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I really need to stop letting this thing get any further back than, like, the second page of this section. Also this is kinda a little shorter than what I would have liked, but whatever.
Keerava didn’t wake up again until noon. Or maybe it was a few hours after noon. Hard to tell, both because there was still no break in the clouds – though the snow had stopped falling – and also because sleeping far longer than normal left her disoriented. Not that it mattered, since it was still quiet downstairs, which meant Keerava had absolutely nothing that she needed to be doing just then. Well, there was one thing, but that would just be more of an inconvenience than anything. That’s why she didn’t take care of it the night before, or just before getting back into bed that morning. Keerava very much preferred the simpler option of just going directly to sleep, so much so that she never actually changed her clothes since morning. Meant she didn’t have to do anything to get ready, too – she only spent as much time in her room as it took to get out of bed and stretch, then she was immediately out the door and downstairs.
Nobody was there save for Talen, who was behind the bar, standing over a pot in the fireplace. Smelled like chicken. Everyone else must have still been out on their adventure, which meant they’d miss out on the food – a real shame, considering the quality of Talen’s soups.
Keerava hurried over to the bar and sat herself down on one of the stools. It took a few moments of shifting around to find the right position for her to get comfortable, and not just because she hardly ever sat on that side of the bar and was not used to the strange perspective. Still, she ended up leaning back against the bar, arms spread across the counter. The only time she moved was when Talen walked up and started talking, and even then, all she did was tilt her head back so she could see him – upside-down, of course, but close enough.
“I was just about to go wake you,” he said, setting two bowls onto the counter and taking a seat for himself. “Perfect timing.” He watched Keerava turn around to face him; she shuffled around a bit more and threw one leg over the other. Talen quickly looked her over and pointed his spoon at her while he spoke. “Are you really…?”
Keerava nodded and took her own spoon out of her mouth. “Yep!”
Talen simply shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?” He was waving his spoon around to replace hand gestures.
“Oh, come on,” was the response. Keerava wiggled seductively – partially so, anyways. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
“Hey, I only do it because it’s part of the job. You just… you go a little overboard with it. Didn’t you just do this yesterday?”
“I sure did.” Keerava leaned forwards and was now drinking her soup straight from the bowl. “And now I’m doing it again today.”
Talen sighed. “You’re gonna hurt yourself doing that, you know.”
A hand wave and a huff was the response. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years. I know what I’m doing. But, yeah, you’re right. After today, I’m gonna go back to normal for, I don’t know, the rest of the week. Maybe even next week.” Keerava shifted a bit as she finished off her soup. “It’s just, I’m kinda, uh, working overtime right now, y’know? Don’t want that to go to waste.”
“Yeah, okay.” Talen rolled his eyes, or as close as he could get considering Argonian physiology. “You do that.”
“Mhmm.” Keerava turned around again – this consisted of, essentially, lifting herself off the stool, turning rather slowly and carefully, then dropping down to her seat, at which point she went back to leaning against the bar. That was followed up by a great deal of shuffling, and her tail subtly twitched a few times, but eventually she settled into a position with one arm on the counter, supporting her head from the side while the other hand rested on her belly. The firmness was rather surprising; it hadn’t really been all that long. Well, it was less than a whole day, anyways. Then again, she also wasn’t at peak performance either, so this was to be expected. The morning tea was really helping, too.
If nothing else, she had a chance to relax for once. No work to do, nobody to feed or listen to, just her and that nice full feeling of hers. And Talen was still hanging around, which was nice too. ‘If only every day could be this quiet,’ she thought. ‘Wait, no, that’d mean I wouldn’t make any money. If only the damn guild would get off my ass, maybe I could afford to not make money for a while.’ That reminded her…
“Talen?” She tipped her head back again to look behind the bar at him – he had put away the excess soup and was now cleaning out the pot he cooked it in. “What’s Maven selling her mead for now?”
Talen looked over at Keerava, who had slid down in her seat to the point where she was more lying on the counter than against it. “Hm? Oh, it’s, uh, 25, last I checked.”
Keerava groaned but didn’t move from her new position. “That’s not unit price, is it? How are we supposed to turn a profit on that?”
“I don’t know.” Talen shrugged. “Maybe we could look for another brand.”
“That isn’t an option.” Keerava groaned quietly and stretched. “Maven sees me selling a competitor’s brand here and we may as well dig our own graves.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got shovels.” Talen pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “If we start now, we might be finished by the time she finds out.”
“Real funny.” Something about the way she dragged out “real” made her sarcasm painfully obvious. “Maybe we could hope for a dragon to fly over in the meantime. Would be a lot safer to piss one of those off.”
“Knowing you, you’d probably piss on one.”
Keerava had never thought of that before. Now she suddenly wanted to try it. But, given that she could not, she simply performed a vulgar Argonian gesture instead. “Don’t you have a pot to clean?”
Talen chuckled. “Yeah, but maybe I shouldn’t, you might need it. Wouldn’t want to have to clean it again.”
“Really? I thought you’d be more than happy to get your hands all over something I’d sat on. You know, naked and everything.”
“Um.” That was all Talen could come up with, and for a few seconds that was all he said, repeatedly, until he finally decided to also say, “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Keerava sat up straight again and tightened the knot her legs were making with each other. “Just thought that’d make a nice image for you, hm?”
“Well, I, uh…”
“Ah, never mind. Get back to… whatever it was you were doing. I’ve got to actually pay attention to this now.” She didn’t wait for the response – which was a simple “right, yeah” – before slowly bringing herself to stand up, but then very nearly regretting that decision as she felt the sudden rush of a leak she was just barely able to suppress. Perhaps she lost a drop or two in the attempt, but nothing major, so she recomposed herself quickly and took to walking around the room. Things really had progressed a lot faster than Keerava had anticipated. She had figured she’d have another few hours, possibly even until sunset, but at the current rate she doubted she’d even be able to last a single hour.
So, essentially, everything was going perfectly. She was wandering around, arms behind her back, the occasional jerk of her tail the only indication of the situation at hand. There wasn’t even any need for subtlety; Keerava simply found it more entertaining. She did have to stop every so often to take back full control over her own body when it tried to defy her, but otherwise she just kept moving, going around in circles. And considering the place was empty, she had lots of time to think, and considering the distraction this provided she was more than happy to take full advantage of it. ‘Why isn’t anyone in here anyways?’ was one such thought. ‘It’s only a few feet of snow, these people are Nords, they see this all the time. Though, I guess it is kind of a lot for this far south.’ She sighed and flicked her tail. ‘I guess it’s for the best, stumbling around drunk in the snow when it’s this cold isn’t the best idea.’
That reminded her of something. Even with several fires going, it was still cold inside. It didn’t much help that Keerava was wearing her regular work clothes and was not outfitted for anything beyond the usual Skyrim weather. Combine that with the fact that Argonians aren’t built for Skyrim in the first place, and Keerava was really feeling the effects of the cold. Or rather, one specific effect. Sure, compared to everything else that was contributing to her situation, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the cold definitely wasn’t making things any easier. Even so, through some miraculous iron will, Keerava was still completely dry – theoretically, considering she actually was slightly wet, though nothing had escaped her bladder just yet. That would no doubt be changing shortly.
There was still a chance to delay it, though. Keerava worked her way over to the nearest fireplace, getting as close as she reasonably could. Then, despite knowing full well that it was a bad idea, she sat on the floor in front of the flames and leaned in closer. Her hands, of course, were planted exactly where one would expect from someone in her situation, and she was practically bouncing in place as she sat. At the same time, though, she had her legs positioned in just the right way to allow her body to apply maximum pressure to that balloon of hers.
Being curled up like that didn’t last very long, though. After bouncing around for a little while, she suddenly sat straight up, put her arms to her sides, and spread her legs out as her strength waned just enough for a quick spurt to add some additional warmth to the equation. Keerava regained control just long enough to stand up, but in doing so briefly lost control again. Once she was standing, she immediately ran back to the kitchen, dripping just a bit along the way.
“Talen, get the thing,” she said as she rushed behind the bar.
Talen was barely paying attention until just then, so could only respond with, “The thing?”
“Ah, never mind.” Keerava made her way over to a counter with a washbasin on it – fortunately, an empty one – and as quickly as she could, she dropped her pants and pulled herself up the counter so that she was above the basin, leaving behind the slightest puddle on the floor as she did so.
As soon as she was relatively close to being in position, Keerava gave up completely. The contents of her bladder rushed out into the large wooden tub she was hovering over, and fairly soon she gave up on doing that as well and dropped herself into the ever-growing puddle beneath her. She didn’t seem to have noticed, though, and simply leaned back as far as she could without tipping anything over, closed her eyes and sighed, losing herself in the moment.
Keerava was only dragged back to reality when she heard someone opening the front door. The front door, which was practically directly across from her current location. A location from which she was unable to move – there was definitely no stopping that waterfall just yet. So she just stared at the door as it opened just enough for a little black Khajiit, practically hidden inside a cloak that was clearly too big for her, to walk in. The Khajiit shook her head and took a few steps into the room before she realized what was happening. She looked over at Keerava, then at Talen, then back to Keerava, who gave what could probably be called a smile, waved, and said, “Hi, Az.” |
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully, and Azhani awoke the next morning to find Keerava once again standing over her with a candle before sunrise – though this time it was barely an hour until then, and the Argonian just walked out of the room without saying anything once she saw that Azhani was awake. Figuring staying in bed would not be the greatest idea, the Khajiit reluctantly got out of bed and went about her normal morning routine, yawning practically the entire time, before heading downstairs for whatever Keerava had planned for today.
As it turned out, the plan was “work”. “I don’t expect we’ll get another day off today,” Keerava had said. “But we should have a while before people start showing up.” Thus, they spent the time with breakfast. Talen had prepared some kind of stew – and also complained about how “this meat is going to go rotten if we don’t do anything with it soon” – and Keerava brewed more of her tea from the day before, so the three of them enjoyed their little feast. It quickly became apparent that there was a problem, however. The food wasn’t disappearing as fast as it should have, and the mead supplies for the day were as of yet untapped. Keerava was the first to speak up about this oddity.
“Anyone seen the Dragonborn?” She waited for the other two to look around and shrug, then spoke again. “Az, you were in the sewers with him, right? Do you know where he went to from there?”
Azhani shrugged again. “No, we went two different directions. He did say something, that he knows how to end the war, but he could be anywhere. Also Lydia mentioned that they were going to rescue some person from the Ratways. Maybe they took that person somewhere.”
“Huh.” Keerava gave a sort of half-nod. “That’s interesting. Well, wherever he went, I hope he comes back. He’s given us more money in the last week than Romlyn has in his entire life. And he’s running a tab now, too, so if he’d pay that off that’d be really nice.”
“He’ll be back,” Talen said. “Sooner or later. After all, I… uh, hm…” He trailed off into some incoherent mumbling and took some quick sips of his tea. Keerava gave him a look but didn’t say anything about it.
She did turn back to Azhani, though. “So, what were you doing yesterday, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Uh, actually,” Azhani said, eyes darting around and tail-tip flicking. “Could we go somewhere private, maybe, to talk about that?”
Keerava leaned back for a moment and raised what passed as an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, right this way.” She picked up her cup of tea and led the way upstairs and over to her own room, where she sat on the edge of her bed while Azhani locked the door. “Alright, what is it?” She took a sip of her tea and then held her cup in her lap with both hands.
“Well, uh…” Azhani’s hands were working mainly at rubbing each other, and she was looking at everything in the room that was not an Argonian. “The, uh… Thi-“ She cut herself off and sighed. “I was told s- I need to collect money that you owe.” She rubbed the back of her head and managed to produce a nervous smile.
Keerava just moved her mug over to a nightstand and looked around for a moment. “You’ll have to be more specific. I owe money to lots of people. Black-briar, half of the woodworkers in town, Maramal even got his way in there somehow…”
“It’s, uh, it’s the Guild,” Azhani said, quietly.
“Guild?” Keerava tilted her head for a moment, but then straightened up again soon after. “Oh, right, that Guild. Well, I don’t know what Brynjolf thinks he’s doing, I already told the fucker I’ve got nothing. And you know that.”
“Yes, yes I do, and I told him that also. I said I couldn’t get you to pay, tried to make him forgive the debt, but he said to try anyways.” Azhani nodded a little bit too enthusiastically.
“Persistent little ass, isn’t he,” was the muttered response. “Well, I do have some money saved up – most of it’s from Bjorn, actually. I was hoping to use it for getting out of this dump, but if the Guild’s sending collection agents, I guess I’d better pay up before they send the real muscle, right?” She chuckled, and Azhani followed along, though half-heartedly and unsure if she was actually supposed to be laughing. “Anyways, I do have one condition. I’ll give you the money Brynjolf wants, but only if you do something for me.”
“Do something?”
“Yeah. It’s, what…” Keerava leaned forward to get a better look out her window. “A little bit after sunrise now. You don’t get any breaks until sunset, and if that all works out, I’ll give you all that money. If not, tell Brynjolf I say he should see if he can fit bread into his oven.”
“What?” Azhani looked over at Keerava with an expression of absolute confoundment.
Keerava started laughing a little bit. “Oh, it’s, uh, it’s from a-“
“What?” It was now the Khajiit’s turn to tilt her head, very soon straightening out again and speaking quickly. “No, no, not that. I’ve heard of- that. Think I saw the play once, few years ago. It was… something. But, no, the first thing.”
“Oh, right.” Keerava’s eyes shifted about and she let out a quick breath of laughter. “Right, no, uh, it’s just, if I’m gonna pay that much money, I want to get a good show out of it, y’know?” She chuckled. “I’d get Talen to do it, but that’d take way too long before anything interesting happened. Fortunately, you’re here, and I want to test you. I’m… fairly confident that you could pull this off, all you have to do is keep yourself dry for a few hours. Not hard, right?”
Azhani held up a finger and opened her mouth to respond but thought better of it and shrugged instead. At the very least, if things went according to plan, she’d get part of the money she delivered. And if they didn’t… She couldn’t really come up with a reason to go through with it if that were to be the outcome, but the potential reward could very well outweigh the rather large chance of failure. She certainly wasn’t making irrational decisions because there was some Elder Scroll somewhere dictating that Riften should be the site of some fetish story, or something. No, that would be absurd.
Justification aside, Azhani shrugged again and said, “Okay, sure.”
“Great,” Keerava said, picking up her mug and getting back on her feet. “Let’s get downstairs, then, we’ve got work to do.”
The first few hours of the “test” weren’t too bad. Azhani was limiting her drinking, as well as she could all things considered, and it took a while for her drinks from breakfast to get through her system. By the time people actually started showing up late in the morning, those drinks were making themselves known, albeit very quietly and certainly entirely manageable.
At the very least, she was having an easier time managing that than the two Argonians were managing their present situation – a situation involving, as expected by quite possibly the entire population of Tamriel, Romlyn Dreth. Except this time there was another Dunmer involved as well. Azhani heard them refer to him as “Indaryn”, and apparently, he was the one running the Black-Briar Meadery for Maven.
Evidently, he’d come to collect Romlyn, who had made himself extremely late for work in his quest to obtain breakfast at the Bee and Barb, and then sit around for a few hours telling stories. He was now trying to explain his situation while the Argonians were now, surprisingly, on his side. Or perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising, considering Indaryn was threatening to fire Romlyn, and this was clearly not a desirable outcome for the innkeepers.
Azhani wasn’t paying too much attention to all that, though. There were only a few people actually in the building at the time, but considering everyone else was preoccupied, she was the one not only bringing food and drinks to customers, but also preparing it herself. She was no expert chef, but fortunately nobody going to an inn run by an Argonian with hardly two spare septims to rub together expected all that much out of their food. And as an added bonus, the little Khajiit was practically unable to focus on anything but her work for the moment. She didn’t need to be distracted just yet, but if this were to keep up, it’d be quite helpful.
Of course, it didn’t keep up. It didn’t take very long for Romlyn to be dragged – literally – out of the inn, at which point Talen took over cooking and Keerava went back to standing around and occasionally pouring drinks, which left Azhani to wander around aimlessly with a broom when she wasn’t taking food to people or clearing tables. That didn’t last too long, either, and fairly soon everyone had left for that brief hour or two of actual work before they came back again for lunch, so now all Azhani had was her broom and her thoughts.
Even her thoughts would be taken away, though – her wandering and sweeping had brought her over by the bar, where Keerava was quick to strike up conversation. “So, how’re you holding up?”
Azhani looked back and forth between Keerava and her own feet for a little bit before answering. “Fine. Don’t know for how long, but fine.” She really was doing fine, which she didn’t quite expect. The pressure from the morning’s drinks was still very slight, now more noticeable than just a half hour ago, but still slight enough to ignore.
Keerava gave a little nod. “Well, that’s good. Hopefully you’re still staying hydrated, though. That’s, you know, fairly important.” As if to accentuate her point, she pulled out a mug that she had been keeping under the bar and took a long drink from it.
“Yeah,” was all Azhani said in response. She was actually getting rather thirsty, but considering they’d all be sitting down for lunch soon, she could deal with that then. No need to add any unnecessary fuel to the fire.
The next hour was incredibly uneventful. Noon came around, a lunch of various things made of chicken was had, and mead flowed a little bit too generously considering the price. There was also a distinct lack of Dragonborn, though as far as Azhani was concerned that was probably for the best – no need to let him see the condition she’d quite soon find herself in. And she was certainly getting there. She’d had a little bit more to drink than she intended, so that pressure was growing faster than she would have liked. It was still tolerable, for now, but getting to be harder to ignore all the same.
Even the little wave of people coming in to get something to eat didn’t provide as much of a distraction as it had that morning – in fact, it was probably getting to the point where all that running around was starting to make things worse. Fortunately, as far as Azhani knew, nobody noticed anything strange about the way she would stand whenever she had to stop running around. She kept her legs close to each other, and every so often she’d squeeze them together very briefly for a little bit of help. Just five hours left, or something in that area. Totally possible. Maybe.
Or maybe not. Hardly two hours later and Azhani was already putting a great deal of effort towards not dancing around. She was fairly sure there was a little bump in her abdomen by now, though that was about the only thing she was actually sure of at the moment. She’d stayed dry, sure, but now she was starting to doubt whether that would last much longer – though being in public and now dealing with a constant stream of people coming in and out of the inn was really helping her stay under control for the moment. It was kind of like Cyrodiil, only not as bad, now that she thought about it. Though, she almost immediately realized she shouldn’t be thinking about it and tried to focus on doing her actual job, which was going well enough, all things considered.
Of course, all her job consisted of just then was running back and forth between the kitchen and some table to get someone some food or refill a drink or something. It was quite tiring, and she found herself drinking a little bit whenever she got the chance, despite her body’s objections. Keerava was right, of course, couldn’t risk dehydration or anything like that. Still didn’t change that Azhani knew exactly what she was getting herself into. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer, or there would start to be some serious problems.
She did eventually get a bit of a break, though – people had stopped coming in, the last few people who were actually eating anything had left, and everyone else was starting to gravitate towards the bar to throw away the rest of their afternoon into a mug, or two, or ten. That was, of course, something Azhani needed to have absolutely no involvement in, so she just grabbed up her broom and started wandering around with it like usual. Of course, there really was dirt that needed removing now, but mostly it gave her an excuse to walk around. If she stood still for too long, she’d either have her legs locked up together or she’d start doing a little dance. Not that she wasn’t still dancing anyways, it just wasn’t as noticeable if she walked around at the same time.
Azhani managed to shuffle over to a window, and looking outside saw that there was still a good deal of daylight out there, which meant she was still hours away from being done with this. It was starting to get darker, of course, as it was getting to be late afternoon, but not quite late enough for it to be near sunset. Azhani hoped nobody could hear the little whine she let out. To her credit, that was all she’d let out just yet – being desperate in public did have one advantage for her, at least. Of course, that advantage could very easily turn into another Cyrodiil, which she was now thinking about again, which was definitely not something she should have done. ‘Focus’, she kept telling herself. That was getting harder to do, though, considering there was only so much entertainment one could get out of a broom. And she was fairly sure that her bulge was visible now; sure felt like it was, and a quick, subtle probe revealed that it was indeed very round, but still had some give to it. Though perhaps pressing on it wasn’t the brightest idea.
Even so, she’d kept herself dry for this long, a little bit of extra pressure wouldn’t break her yet. It certainly wasn’t helping, though, especially considering the internal pressure just kept growing. The sun had to have slowed down since last she checked; surely all this time she’d been waiting had been enough for it to be sunset already. Of course it wasn’t, so she didn’t really have much of a choice but to get back to sweeping. It wasn’t helping as much as it had just a little while ago, but it was better than nothing. Certainly better than sitting around like Keerava was doing just now – though she was clearly not troubled by the same burden Azhani was carrying. In fact, Azhani could have sworn she saw Keerava leaving to go upstairs not too long ago, then coming back down and settling herself right back onto her stool behind the bar. It wasn’t like her to take a break like that, and Azhani couldn’t tell if that was some subtle way of messing with her. Whatever the point was, Azhani was a little jealous – here Keerava was, able to leave to take care of her own business whenever she wanted, all the while leaving her Khajiit employee to suffer through a full bladder all day long. And she was watching, too. Sure, she was trying to be subtle about it, but Azhani could tell that Keerava was looking over every so often to see what was going on. Funny enough, if she hadn’t been doing that Azhani may very well have leaked by now, which is probably what Keerava was actually looking for, but knowing someone was watching was enough to scare her body into submission.
How long, though, would that really help? That pressure just kept growing and getting more distraction, and sooner or later something would need to be done. More likely sooner than later, which was a real problem considering it still wasn’t quite sunset yet. It was starting to get closer and closer, though, but that ultimately just caused more problems – Azhani, of course, was constantly thinking about how much time had passed and how much longer she had to wait, and knowing that she’d be able to get what she needed for the Guild, and more importantly some sorely-needed relief, she couldn’t help but connect the two events. And that meant that as sunset grew closer, Azhani could only imagine the possibility for relief growing closer as well, which was not a very helpful thing to think about. Especially so, considering she was starting to let out little involuntary drips. There wasn’t really much she could do about that, so she just tried to keep moving, until inevitably a little jet of urine forced its way out.
That really set things off. Azhani threw one hand between her legs and pressed them together as tightly as possible in an attempt to stop anything worse from happening – a successful attempt, but now a warning that things really had to be taken care of soon. The only question was if “soon” was even an option. The sun was inching its way closer to the horizon, so it would definitely go under soon, but that kind of soon wasn’t necessarily the same kind Azhani’s body was thinking of. A quick glance at Keerava showed that she was looking out the windows now, too. Considering the amount of money she had on the line, no doubt she was trying to will the sun to slow down. That was a little ray of hope for Azhani, though – if Keerava was getting concerned with how close sunset was, that meant it really would be quite soon. Though, considering her present state, the current question from Azhani wasn’t whether she could keep everything else locked up until then, but how much she’d lose waiting. Hopefully Keerava would be lenient with her definition of “dry”.
As the last few minutes of her wait dragged on, Azhani hobbled over to a fairly-remote corner near enough to the bar to keep an eye on Keerava, but far enough that nobody at the bar would notice her. It was as close as she could get to privacy at the moment – she hadn’t tried it, but she was sure that if she tried to hide behind something or head upstairs Keerava would be running after her to stop her or hover around her to make sure she wasn’t trying to cheat. There was very little traffic near her corner, though, so it was private enough for Azhani to grab herself or wiggle around or do whatever she needed to do without having anyone see her doing it. There was only so much she could do, though, and another spurt found its way into Azhani’s panties, which were already decently soaked from the constant dripping. At least nothing showed on the outside yet, but if things didn’t hurry up that wouldn’t last long at all. Keerava was starting to look a little worried, so hopefully it would last just as long as it needed to.
Azhani managed to get herself lost in her thoughts for a while after that. It was only a few minutes, but still enough time for her to let her guard down enough for yet another spurt to work its way out, this one slightly longer than the rest. Azhani was just barely able to get herself back to reality in time to put an end to it, but not before it left its mark on her pants – that would surely be visible if there was any light at all cast on her. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking all over, watching Keerava intently to see if her time was up yet, or at the very least hoping for something to happen that would stop her from being very gradually drained by those little drops she was losing. Something like Cyrodiil that one time, except also not because she wasn’t thinking about that. She was just about to think about it, though, when she saw Keerava sigh and turn around, looking for Azhani. Once she found her, Keerava subtly waved her over.
On one hand, that meant that everything was over and she could do what she really, definitely needed to do two hours ago. On the other, she had to walk over to the bar. Where there were people. People who would notice her dancing and shaking and everything. Still, she couldn’t really ignore what would be her golden opportunity, so she ran over to the bar as fast as she could without looking like she was running. That caused her to lose a couple more spurts, but by then she didn’t really care.
When she got there, she made a point of standing behind everyone seated at the bar, hoping none of them would turn around to look at her. Keerava grabbed a pouch from under the counter and came out to meet the little increasingly-wet Khajiit, Talen seamlessly replacing her as the barkeep.
“Guess you win,” she said, directing Azhani over to the stairs and handing over the pouch.
“Barely,” was the response – Azhani had both of her hands buried between her legs and it took a great deal of effort to remove one and collect the one thing she’d been doing all this for. Those spurts of hers weren’t slowing down, and there were obvious dark trails down her legs that were gradually growing longer and more numerous.
Keerava looked Azhani over a few times and said, “Just make sure you let Brynjolf know that he’s an ass. Now, I’m sure you have something you’d like to be doing now.”
Azhani gave a quick nod before bolting up the stairs and into her own room. The door slammed shut behind her, and as soon as she was in the room she was already bent down to drag her chamberpot out from under the bed. Her body seemed to think that meant it was time to let go, though, so she didn’t even bother undressing as she felt a stream start and quickly pick up into a rush of wet heat down her legs. All she did was try to seat herself over her pot so that she wouldn’t ruin the floor, and for a few minutes stayed like that, pissing through her clothes into a chamberpot, letting out a sigh of relief. She was otherwise completely unsure how to react – the sigh was involuntary, but now she was thinking about whether or not this turned out well. After all, she did end up wetting herself anyways, but it was also in the privacy of her own room and after an entire day’s wait. She didn’t have very many clothes, but at least she had more than she came into town with, so she had something to change into. Still, she couldn’t believe she’d wet herself again. Third time in a week she’d properly done so, and before then she hadn’t done it at all for years. Things really weren’t working out for her, but at least now she had money, even if it wasn’t exactly a normal way to get some.
--- Just for the record, this is the last chapter before that really big important storyline thing starts happening. You'll still get some nice omo stuff thrown in but expect the next few entries to be focused more on moving things forward than on the fetish. |
The next two weeks passed by without fanfare – without the Dragonborn, everything was just business as usual. For the most part, everyone had forgotten he’d even existed. He was in town for a week, and then he wasn’t. It wasn’t unusual for travelers to show up out of nowhere and then disappear right back into nowhere, and considering the vast majority of Riften’s population had better things to worry about than the whereabouts of the Dragonborn, he’d become just another traveler passing through.
Even at the Bee and Barb, evidently the Dragonborn’s favorite establishment, nobody really seemed to notice anymore that he hadn’t been in town. So, on one cold Tirdas morning, there was a breakfast only just big enough for the three people who were actually there. No pile of meat to satisfy the Dragonborn’s gluttony, no free-flowing mead. Just hot cereal, cheese, and tea.
Azhani didn’t really mind. It was a simple life, but at least she had a roof over her head and food to eat every day. It was better than most of her life before then, even with Keerava’s eccentricities added in. It really was quiet, though. There was only so much to talk about when nobody ever really went any farther outside than the market, and only rarely would some trader get interesting information. Just a day ago, in fact, the Dunmer lady who had set up shop right outside the inn to sell her vegetables reported that the Jarl of Windhelm had been seen travelling through the Rift recently. Considering nobody actually knew where he was headed, that provided a good deal of conversation that morning, and even carried on to the next day, so there was still plenty to discuss on this particular Tirdas.
“I keep telling you, this is a Stormcloak hold, nothing bad is going to happen just because Ulfric decided to come take a look at his land.” Talen had been trying to reassure Keerava ever since they first heard of the Jarl’s travels the day before. Now, he had one hand resting rather awkwardly on her shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s Stormcloak land,” was the response. “But remember, he was captured in this hold once before. And he only got out of that one because a dragon showed up. If they get him again, things might not end so well.”
“Oh, come on.” There was a slight thud as Talen dropped the tip of his tail to the ground. “Stormcloak, Legion, won’t really matter who controls the city, we’ll still be doing just as much work with just as much extortion.” He gave a sideways glance at Azhani, who was trying very hard to not look at either of them right now and just focus on her food.
“Think about it, Talen.” Keerava turned around and pushed his tail aside with her foot. “If the Legion gets the Rift, they’re going to need a new Jarl, right?” He nodded, and she continued. “Well, there’s only one person around here I can think of that has enough influence and ‘leadership skill’ to be their candidate.” She made air quotes with her fingers as she talked.
Talen dipped his head in surrender. “Maven?”
“Fucking Black-Briar.” Keerava nodded aggressively. “I don’t know about you, but considering how she’s already got a hand in everyone’s pocket around here, I’d really like to see that bitch kept as far away from the Jarldom as possible, thank you.”
Talen smiled as well as his facial structure allowed. “Mmh, don’t let her hear you say that. She’s got eyes and ears everywhere, you know. I don’t think she’d appreciate being called mean things.”
Keerava rolled her head around as a substitute for doing so with her eyes. “Shut up.” Then she gave Talen a light kick in the shin. He seemed to get the message, and the room was quiet again.
At least, it was for a little bit, but some big jerk covered in steel plates and wearing a red travelling cloak decided to barge in and interrupt the silence. He quickly scanned the room, before calling Talen over, by name, along with a beckoning wave.
The two women looked over at him while Talen stepped forward, and Keerava was the first to address him. “Hey, Bjorn, where’ve you been?”
The Dragonborn grabbed a small pouch from his belt and put it into Talen’s hands – he looked into it and his eyes lit up for a moment while Bjorn spoke. “Everywhere. I don’t have a lot of time, is, uh – oh.” He’d been looking around the room some more, but stopped once he saw the Khajiit seated across from Keerava. He walked forward a little and held out a hand. “Azhani, come with me, I need your help.”
Azhani looked between him and Keerava for a moment before responding. “What? Why?”
Bjorn was already starting to walk back to the door, and spoke quickly. “Uh, no time, we have to leave now, I can explain on the way. You coming?”
The Khajiit looked over at Keerava again, who just shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, okay, fine, she’ll go,” Azhani said while she stood up.
“Great.” Bjorn tossed her a white cloak. “You can wear that, it’s actually your size, I hope. Come on.”
Azhani stood there a moment and pointed over at the stairs. “But, shouldn’t thi-“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bjorn was making a flurry of nondescript hand motions. “There’ll be time to do everything once we get moving, but we do have to leave, like, now.”
Azhani threw up her hands and followed along. “Alright, fine.”
The two gave a brief wave to the Argonians, and Azhani nearly stopped to say something but was rushed out before she could. So, instead, she spoke to the Dragonborn, as well as she could while trying to keep up with his brisk pace – despite her best efforts she always ended up slightly behind.
“So, what did this one just agree to?”
Bjorn looked over his shoulder but didn’t slow down. “Remember in the sewers a few weeks ago, when you told me to go end the war?”
Azhani raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…”
“Well, I figured out how to do it. Had to go all the fucking way across the country and back, but I can do it – we can do it, which is why you’re coming to Ivarstead with me.”
“And why do you need this one, exactly?” Azhani nearly tripped over her own feet trying to keep up as the two headed towards the town’s southern gate.
“Well, you’re going to be damn near the only person there who’s not some political leader or twenty dragons in a man’s body.” He laughed a bit at that and carried on. “Ulfric and Tullius and Balgruuf and whoever else shows up, they’re only going to care about what they can get for themselves. How they can benefit their side in the war. What you’re coming along for, is-“ He reached out to stop Azhani from falling over, as she had tripped again, but returned to his original stride as soon as she was upright. “You’re coming along so that they can’t ignore what’s happening to real people. Without you, all I’d really get out of them is some half-assed ceasefire that’ll be over as soon as Alduin’s not a threat anymore. But with you there, I may just get them to end this shit entirely.”
He turned around once he got to the gate and waited for Azhani to catch up. They headed through as soon as she did, and found a cart loaded up with supplies a short distance ahead of them. There was a hooded woman who Azhani didn’t recognize already seated up front with the horse.
“And you really think it can work?” Azhani asked.
“I fuckin’ hope so.” He pulled himself up into the cart as soon as he got to it, then turned around and waved for Azhani to sit in the back with the supplies. The woman didn’t acknowledge her, but Bjorn decided to introduce the two anyways. “Azhani, that’s Serana, Serana, that’s Azhani, we’re all acquainted, good, let’s go.” He waited only as long as it took Azhani to get properly seated before he whipped the reins and set off.
Azhani watched behind her as the town walls faded from view, and once they disappeared behind trees and over the horizon, she took to examining their stock for the journey. For the most part, she was seated among boxes of food. There were some blankets, folded up into a pile which she turned into her seat, and some bags filled with potions. There were a few fancy-looking ones that must have been healing potions. They were a very deep, luminous red that Azhani hadn’t seen on any other potions before. Granted, she didn’t handle potions very often, but still. She figured it was probably best that she not mess around with them – they were probably very expensive and rare, so breaking them or drinking them when they weren’t necessary likely wasn’t a good idea.
Something else caught her eye once she put those healing potions back. There was a faint glint of metal coming off of something hidden beneath some clothes and a few more blankets. It wasn’t like Azhani had a habit of trying to take shiny things, or anything, but she still felt compelled to carefully rearrange the pile of clothes so as to better see what was hidden below. She wasn’t really sure what it was, since she’d never seen anything like it before. It was some sort of golden tube, with handles coming out of either end of it. There was a large jewel in the middle of it, and a few smaller ones near the edges. Azhani picked it up, slowly and carefully, and rolled it around in her hands. Below the center jewel, there was something that looked like it could be pulled on to make something happen. Maybe if she just-
“Hey, wait, don’t touch that!” The hooded woman – who Bjorn called Serana – had turned around just in time to see Azhani attempting to open the device. The Khajiit’s hands flew up, and she dropped the thing and let it roll over to the side of the cart.
Bjorn had pulled the horse into a hard stop and turned around to see what had happened once he heard the shout, and saw Azhani just sitting there with her hands up, shaking, looking at the two of them – more at Bjorn than Serana, who she found slightly unnerving, but didn’t really know why. The golden thing was still rolling around a bit without anything to keep it in place. “You didn’t open it, did you?” His question was answered by some rather violent head-shaking, so he sighed and turned back around, setting off once more. “Good. Keep it hidden, and, seriously, don’t touch it.”
Azhani slowly brought her hands down again as she calmed down a bit. Her heart was still going crazy, but that would sort itself out. “What is it?” She shoved the pile of clothes back on top of it.
The Dragonborn and Serana looked at each other, then they both turned to face the road. “Looooooong fuckin’ story,” Bjorn said, taking a deep breath. “That-“ he pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “- is an Elder Scroll. We’re taking it to High Hrothgar. Not for the war meeting, though.”
Azhani moved as far away from the Scroll as she could once it had been covered up again. “Why are we doing that?”
“He needs it so it can teach him some Shout to defeat Alduin,” Serana said, looking over her shoulder just slightly. “Something about going back in time, I think.”
“Yeah, like I said, it’s a really long story. It’ll take us a few days to get there, maybe I could tell it…” Bjorn shrugged. “Doubt you’d believe it, though.”
“Hmph.” Azhani crossed her arms and just stayed seated in the farthest corner from the Elder Scroll. “And who is she?” She pointed at Serana without uncrossing her arms, just lifting a finger and directing towards that general area.
Bjorn and Serana looked at each other and didn’t say anything for several seconds. Bjorn finally gave the answer, “Old friend.” Then he turned around to watch the road again.
Azhani nodded silently, and they continued on for a few minutes without anyone saying anything. In that time, Azhani finally calmed down completely from the Scroll incident. Though, that made her faintly aware of something. “Hey, uh, when do we stop?”
The Dragonborn looked over at her. “I wasn’t planning on it until around noon or so. Why, do you, uh, need us to?”
Azhani quickly turned away from him and looked out over the back of the cart. “N-no, no. Just, just asking.”
Bjorn shrugged. “Alright then.”
Just until noon. That wouldn’t be a problem at all.
For once, she was right. The group had stopped by the banks of the Treva river shortly after noon, and Azhani gladly took the opportunity to run off into the woods and do her business. She didn’t need to, really, but if this was going to be the pacing of the whole trip, it would probably turn out better for her not to risk it. The hardest part would be finding somewhere private enough, especially as they got closer to their destination and the woods inevitably thinned out. But that wouldn’t be a problem for another couple of days yet.
Azhani re-dressed and started working her way back through the undergrowth, and she was suddenly hit by the gravity of their destination only being a few days’ journey away. They’d get to Ivarstead by the end of the week, work their way up to High Hrothgar, and if everything went according to plan, the Civil War would be over for good by the end of the month. She wasn’t really sure what to do with that information – she didn’t really have any home to go back to once the war was over and the dragons were dealt with. Of course, this particular war had only been going on for a few months, so it’s not like it specifically had any major effect on her, but it was still just one more thing out to ruin everyone’s lives. Apparently the last thirty years were really good at doing that. Even when there wasn’t some war going on, there would be some internal strife or some problems rebuilding, and then something else would come along and throw everyone back to where they were before.
Even so, the chance of some reprieve from the endless conflict made Azhani hopeful that she could actually turn her life around. She’d probably have to stay in Riften for a while, and she didn’t really have any marketable skills, but still. There was a chance that she’d become something, and that was enough. She shook her head as she came out of the woods, crossing the road to head back to camp. None of that really mattered right now. They had a job to do, and frankly it was kind of exciting for her to be involved in something so important, even if she had no idea what would come of it.
Azhani returned to camp to see the Dragonborn building a fire a little way’s back from the shoreline, while Serana crawled around in the back of the cart, looking through the various bags. She grabbed one, then jumped out of the cart and sat down with it under a nearby tree. Azhani looked over at her only briefly – it seemed to be the bag with the fancy potions in it, but something about Serana told her she’d be better off minding her own business. So, rather than taking a closer look to find out more, she took a seat by the fire, which Bjorn had lit just by touching it.
“Alright, so, way I figure it, we can only afford to spend maybe an hour here.” He walked over to the cart and pulled out one of the boxes. He brought it over to the fire, opening it to reveal a small assortment of meats. “These are frost-salted,” he explained to Azhani while he skewered them and set them up over the fire. “They’ll last a while, but not the whole trip. Probably just good for today, really, considering I’ve already been hauling them around for a couple days.” He nodded in the direction of Serana’s tree. “Serana’s going to do our hunting, though, so we’ll be fine.”
Azhani nodded, not really paying attention, since she was absorbed in watching the food being cooked right in front of her. As soon as she pulled herself out of it, though, she asked the first thing to come to mind. “Why bring her, anyways? Why not Lydia?”
“Because of the Scroll.” Bjorn didn’t look up from his work. “Serana is the only person I trust to actually handle one, and since we won’t be able to take the cart all the way up to High Hrothgar, she’s got to carry it for us. I’d do it myself, but I don’t really want to take something that valuable to a war summit.”
“So, why is she so special? You never mentioned her.” Azhani looked over her shoulder at Serana, but almost immediately turned around again to stare at what would shortly be lunch.
“Uh…” Bjorn very briefly stopped what he was doing and leaned back a little. “She, uh… has a history guarding Scrolls. Kept one out of the hands of… a, uh… vampire lord, and because of that he didn’t conquer the world. So that’s nice.”
“Vampire lord?”
“Yeah, ever hear of the Volkihars?” He went back to getting their food ready, and Azhani just shook her head. “Well, then, it’s not all that important. Guy was crazy, guy was stopped, not, uh, not much to say about that.” The last few words almost blurred together as Bjorn tried to end the sentence quickly. Azhani didn’t seem to notice.
Neither of them had anything else to say for the next few minutes, until Bjorn decided that the meat was properly cooked and brought it out of the fire. He handed some over to Azhani, keeping the rest for himself.
The Khajiit decided she had something to say, but not before taking a few bites. Or, more accurately, eating half of what she had just been given. “What about her?” She glanced at Serana, who was now looking out over the river and at the wilds beyond the far shore.
“Oh, she’ll be fine.” Bjorn hastily pulled a flask off his belt and drank from it before offering it to Azhani, who reluctantly took it after taking a moment to consider.
She sniffed at the flask’s opening, then took a sip. It was some sort of wine unlike anything she’d known to come out of Skyrim. “This is good.” She took another swig and handed it back. “Where did you get it?”
“It’s from Cyrodiil,” Bjorn said as he set the flask down. “Got it from some Bandaari, actually. Only people who’ll actually risk hauling stuff around between provinces nowadays.”
Azhani nodded. She finished off what food was left in front of her, then spoke again as she started leaning back. “About that. What exactly is your plan?”
“Hm?” Bjorn looked over at her with his mouth full, swallowed, and gave his answer. “Oh, well. I don’t really have an actual plan.” Azhani glared at him, and he rushed to continue speaking. “Eh, I mean, I know what we’re doing, but it all really depends on whether or not these people will listen. Really, the meeting is just so that I can deal with Alduin, but I figured I might as well go one step further.” He took another bite and another drink, then went on. “Basically, what I did was: I took that old guy – Esbern – from the sewers over to some old Blades temple way out in the Reach, and then I was told I’d need to get a dragon to help me get to Alduin. They recommended I go to Whiterun, since Dragonsreach was actually used to trap a dragon once. So I go there, but Balgruuf doesn’t want me to call a dragon to his city unless I can guarantee that nobody’s going to attack it. And then…” He took another drink. “Then I went all the fucking way out to Solitude, asked Tullius to agree to a truce, he said no, so I told him to get his ass to High Hrothgar to negotiate one. Then I went to Windhelm and did the same damn thing with Ulfric. I, uh, picked up Serana right after I left Solitude, and on our way east we stopped by Winterhold, because I left the Scroll with the College.” He sighed. “Then I went back to Riften, and now we’re here. The plan is to get Ulfric and Tullius to stop trying to kill each other. If all goes well, the war will be over for good. At first I just wanted to get them to agree to a temporary peace, and then they’d go right back to burning stuff down. But then I remembered that you gave me the idea to end the fucking war entirely, so now I’ve got to figure out how to do that without giving either Ulfric or Tullius anything they actually want out of a peace deal.” He let himself fall back onto the grass. “We’ve all got more important shit to deal with than their war. There won’t be any better opportunity to end it without letting any more people die.”
“You did all that in two weeks?” Azhani looked over at Bjorn, with an eyebrow raised and her head cocked.
“Yeah, I had Lydia go home once I had Esbern, and we got the fastest horse and most direct route possible to where we were going. That and getting to Windhelm and back to Riften took the most time. I can move really fast when I’m on my own. Only problem is it’s really exhausting, too.” He suddenly jumped up just then. “No time for that, though, time to get moving again.”
He reached out with one arm and snapped his hand shut, causing the flame in front of him to fade away immediately. Then he picked his box back up, tossed it into the cart, and climbed aboard. Apparently, Serana had found her way back while he was explaining everything, so they only had to wait for Azhani to negotiate her way into the back again. As soon as their feline cargo was secure, though, they set off immediately.
It wasn’t until well after sunset that the group stopped to make camp again. Or, at least, Bjorn was setting up camp while Serana made her way into the woods, and Azhani was hurrying along in a similar direction. In hindsight, it probably would have been a good idea to just drink from the river or something last time they stopped. Sure, she didn’t really have all that much wine, and only tapped into their reserves a little bit, but considering the length of the journey, it’d probably be smart to avoid alcohol altogether.
She did have to give Keerava some credit, though, as she found a suitable location and got herself into position just in time. That “training” she had Azhani do was actually helping quite a bit. She probably wouldn’t have been nearly as dry by now if she hadn’t taken part in all that. Granted, her current situation couldn’t strictly be called “dry”, but it was still quite a bit better than what she was capable of at the start of the month. Quite fortunate for her, really, considering she only brought with her what she was wearing, and there didn’t seem to be any extra clothes brought along in her size. And it’d probably be considered rude if she were to ruin her own clothes, then borrow Serana’s and ruin those too. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen.
At the very least, it wouldn’t be happening that night. Sure, that little bit of dampness that was there wouldn’t be particularly comfortable, but it was better than the alternative. It was also a problem for later – for right now, she’d just finished draining herself for a good minute, so it was time to get back to camp and see what Bjorn’s idea of dinner would be. Too bad she had to go so deep into the woods to feel decently private – it took a lot of work to pick her way out again, and even more work to remember what direction she was supposed to be heading in to begin with. If she hadn’t been in such a rush she probably would have remembered the path she took and wouldn’t have had to waste ten minutes wandering around trying to figure out which way was north.
Once Azhani finally did find her way back to camp, she was a little bit surprised to see that the only person there was Bjorn, who had tossed some blankets out of the cart and onto the grass. He’d somehow managed to get all his armor off on his own, and he was sitting by the fire he’d made. If not for the firelight, Azhani might not have even seen him at first, since the padded clothes he was wearing were all completely black – at least, she wouldn’t have seen him if she didn’t have built-in Nighteye.
Non-Khajiit vision problems aside, Azhani grabbed one of the blankets and dragged it over to the fire, lying down on it as soon as she’d gotten it positioned just so. A quick, lazy scan of the area showed that it was just herself and the Dragonborn at camp at the moment. Serana was nowhere to be seen, which meant she never came back from her trip into the woods when they arrived. More importantly, though…
“Where’s the food?” Azhani pulled herself up into an almost-sitting position.
Bjorn pointed over his shoulder at the woods across the road – seriously, if Azhani were any other race, he’d just be a floating head to her right now – and yawned out an answer. “Serana’s getting it.” He reached off to one side and produced a bag. “Some bread here if you want it, though.”
Azhani shrugged, grabbing a piece of bread and nibbling at it. Wasn’t exactly high-quality, but she’d had worse. And there was still the promise of eating something that had only died a few minutes ago. When was the last time she’d gone on a proper hunt for herself, anyways? Months, years ago, maybe, considering she’d been entirely unarmed while wandering around Skyrim recently.
There wasn’t much in the way of conversation in the few minutes it took for Serana to get back – and when she returned, she was hauling a decently-sized buck over to camp, holding it over one shoulder as if it were a barrel, or something. Azhani couldn’t help thinking that that definitely shouldn’t have been possible for a single person to do. But, then again, the Dragonborn was ten feet from her, too, so she really wasn’t in a position to judge what was possible and what wasn’t. Impossibility aside, it was happening, and now a deer had been dropped right by the fire, and a woman Azhani hardly knew was busy skinning it.
Not that her familiarity with Serana really changed anything – the Khajiit was sitting perfectly upright, eyes trained on the deer as skilled hands shaped it into a form suitable for cooking. It must have still been warm, and smelled like it’d be delicious. In fact, she would have just reached over and grabbed a piece if not for the fact that there was a fire and a knife in the way. Azhani was a Khajiit, she could handle a little raw meat. But there were two humans there, and only one of her, so their need to have their food cooked outweighed her impatience. She did manage to tear herself away from what would soon become dinner, and decided to get some water instead. If Azhani were to go do something else, she’d feel less of a need to jump Serana and not bother dealing with the whole preparation process.
That’s what she told herself, anyways, and it was partially true. The other part was that she was really damn sure that keeping some water for herself would be a much better idea than getting into the group’s supplies. Those were mostly beer – great for travelling with, sure… for literally anyone but Azhani on this particular journey. She’d already seen where that would get her, and that’d only get worse later. Fortunately, there was an empty waterskin on the cart, stuck under one of the several piles of cloth concealing the Elder Scroll. Not that she’d been trying to dig the Scroll out or anything – in fact she would have very much preferred to be as far away from it as possible, in case it did something crazy like explode and set everything on fire – but she’d been pretty sure there was interesting stuff stashed into those piles.
She was extremely disappointed to find out that the piles pretty much only contained random cloth and some spare clothes, aside from the waterskin. At least she got something useful out of it. Azhani knelt down once she got to the shore of the Treva. She could still hear the sounds of camp behind her, but if she just focused on the river all she could hear was running water and the occasional owl or some other such creature. Azhani reached out into the river with one hand, letting a little bit pool up before bringing it back out to taste it. She wasn’t quite sure how the water looked just now, considering everything looked a little blue and washed-out thanks to her Nighteye, but it tasted fine. Not the greatest, considering it came out of Riften, but it would do.
With the skin filled, Azhani headed back to camp, where the group’s dinner was already being cooked – the deer had been fairly completely stripped of fur and meat, with the excess meat shoved into a box nearby. Bjorn was keeping watch over the food to make sure it was cooking evenly, and Serana had gotten up to make sure the horse wasn’t getting into trouble – and to grab the bag of potions from the cart. Azhani seated herself on her blanket again and got back to staring at their food. She seriously considered just grabbing some off the fire and eating it right then, but decided that it’d look weird if she were to do that. It’s not like she was starving or anything, but this would be the first fresh meat she’d eaten in a long time. Why ruin that with something as silly as cooking?
In any event, in the time it took Serana to get back to the fire and sit down with those potions, the Dragonborn had apparently become satisfied with the state of the venison in front of him, and distributed what meat had been prepared according to his idea of “even”. Which is to say, he gave himself the bulk of it, Azhani had a respectable slab for herself, and Serana only had enough to feed a child. That struck Azhani as rather odd, considering she hadn’t actually seen Serana eat anything at all since she met her – granted, that was only twelve hours before, but still. Serana didn’t really seem to care about it, which was even weirder. Serana was just sitting there, sipping on a potion. She’d occasionally prod at the food she’d been given and eat a little piece of it, but she seemed way more focused on her drink.
Not that it was any of Azhani’s business, really. According to her understanding of humans, they didn’t strictly need meat. Not the way Khajiit did, anyways – as she understood it, a human could go for quite a while on just plants, especially if they got the right ones, but a Khajiit would starve pretty quickly if one were to try that. Maybe Serana was just one of that kind of human. Azhani had never met one before, though she always thought they were kind of interesting. They were like reverse Bosmer. Though, if those potions were all Serana ever put into her body, then they probably weren’t actually healing potions, and were instead some food-type-thing made specifically for her, and it’d be a good idea for nobody else to touch them. Yep. That made sense. Azhani could now eat comfortably having come to this entirely logical conclusion, though she still couldn’t look Serana in the eye without feeling weird about it. There was something about her that really did make Azhani uncomfortable, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Maybe she was just racist. Maybe it was because Serana never seemed to take that hood off. Or both.
Whatever it was, Azhani knew she didn’t really have any reason to think Serana would do something weird. The Dragonborn trusted her, after all. Azhani didn’t fully trust the Dragonborn, sure, but that was just because of the one little feature he shared with Keerava. He could definitely be trusted to keep people safe otherwise. And, ultimately, her concerns didn’t really matter all that much. Once her meal was finished, Azhani ended up being the first one out of the three to fall asleep. Whatever her concerns were, she could no doubt just ask about them in the morning.
Edited February 20, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
For the record, I think it's really cool that this has 12 followers. 11 if you don't count me. It's really nice to know there are at least 11 people out there who are liking this. Thumbs up to all of you guys.
"Fuck!”
That couldn’t be good.
“Mu alok ahst folaas tiid! Ruth shul… Alok.” Bjorn prodded Azhani with one foot, repeating that word. “Alok, alok.” He’d negotiated his way into his armor and was now running around collecting everything they’d strewn about the campsite the night before.
“What’s going on?” Azhani sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Volost tiid, mu b-buh…“ Bjorn briefly stopped packing and took a deep breath when he saw Azhani’s look of utter confusion. “Krosis, I, uh… This is way later than I’d wanted to wake up, and now we’re kind of in a rush if we want to get there on time. Which I do.” He picked up all the blankets and carried them over to the cart under one arm. “So, uh, get in. We have to move fast to make up for lost time.”
Azhani looked around for a moment, but quickly followed along and hopped up into the cart. Serana had apparently been sitting up front already and was silently waiting for them to leave. Bjorn haphazardly loaded up the cart with whatever was left and got his horse running as fast as physically possible. Azhani took the chance to ask a question. “What’s the rush? It’s a few days of a trip, no? What does it matter if we’re a few hours late?” She splashed her face with some water out of the skin she’d filled the night before.
“And what’s up with the dragon-speak?” Serana chimed in with her own question.
“Be a few hours late one day and we end up getting there two days after everyone else. Time really just goes nuts if you let it start getting away from you.” Bjorn looked over his shoulder just long enough to see Azhani give a slight nod. “And you know how the whole dragon-killing thing goes, Serana. I get their souls, but also their knowledge. That’s how I learn new Shouts – and those are just dragon words. At this point I’ve slaughtered enough of them for their language to be second-nature. Hardly even notice what I’m speaking in anymore.”
“Yeah, but, I mean, why speak in it at all? When is a dragon ever going to want to have a conversation with you?” Serana was looking dead ahead as she spoke.
“Because it’s a really great language for swearing in. It’s pretty much specifically designed for anger.” Bjorn shrugged. “And a dragon conversation is literally a fight anyways, so technically dragons come up trying to talk to me – or, at me, I guess – all the damn time.”
“Uh huh. I’m sure they love you.” Serana folded her arms and bowed her head, as if she were trying to fall asleep sitting there.
Turned out she did end up falling asleep, maybe. She was normally quiet anyways, but, still, she was hardly moving at all. So everyone carried on in silence for a few minutes – a few minutes which Azhani used to shuffle around through bags and piles, looking for something interesting. This, apparently, attracted the Dragonborn’s attention.
“Whatcha doin’ back there?” He looked over his shoulder, and Azhani turned around to look at him as well.
“Did you bring any books, or something like that?”
“Uh, yeah,” Bjorn said. “Old ones, but they should be there somewhere, packed into some corner, maybe.”
Azhani nodded and shoved her hand into a gap between one of the boxes and the side of the cart. Sure enough, she pulled out a worn-out book. The leather on the covers was beaten-up and torn in places, and the pages were brown, several of them seeming to have been slightly burned. The title was illegible, but the author’s name was still clear enough. “Quill-Weave? This one is not familiar.” Azhani settled herself onto the blankets from last night and leaned against the edge of the cart, gingerly flipping through the first few pages.
“She was a writer from Anvil during the Oblivion Crisis. Kinda famous back home, obviously not so much up here.” The Dragonborn was looking at the road now. “I don’t know what happened to her, but I’m pretty sure she survived the invasions.”
“And what about this? The dedications page, it says ‘K. M.’” Azhani pointed to the letters and looked over at the back of Bjorn’s head.
“No fucking clue.” Bjorn threw up a hand and turned just enough to see Azhani. “Could be anyone. All her stuff from the Fourth Era has that person listed, but I don’t know why or who it is, and I doubt anyone but Quill-Weave ever did.”
“Hm.” The Khajiit crossed her legs and leaned back as far as she could without falling out onto the road, and flipped around until she found the first page with an actual story on it. Azhani could tell pretty quickly why this Quill-Weave was so well-known in the Imperial Province, and she could guess where the name came from to begin with. If she wasn’t careful, Azhani could get herself lost in the book for hours. Of course, she had no intention of being careful. The abrupt start to the morning meant she was not in peak condition, which made the book’s distracting powers all the more useful. Only problem being that it’d eventually get to the point where a distraction wouldn’t work, but they’d more than likely have to stop for lunch before then.
Or not. They could just keep following the road as it wound its way through the woods and make a lunch out of what food they had on the cart with them. That would work, too. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing – Azhani got to dig through what was left of the deer from the night before, and if they didn’t stop she’d have more time to read that old book she’d found. But, then again, the meat had already been salted and had dried out, so it wasn’t as good of a meal as Azhani had expected. In fact, it tasted pretty much just like cooked meat at that point, except it was cold and also salty. What a waste of perfectly good food.
Fortunately, this was absolutely the primary concern for Azhani. There was nothing at all that could possibly have been more important than this issue. Salted food was without a doubt the single worst thing to have happened to Azhani that day. Absolutely. Not a single thing was more important or could possibly make things any worse than that. Not one thing. Not even something that needed her immediate attention and would only get worse over time, and also didn’t exist. Nope. That would be ridiculous. What on Nirn could make anyone assume there was such an issue?
Probably the fact that Azhani couldn’t sit still. That would tend to give someone that impression. Of course, being in the back of a cart, surrounded by boxes, sacks of alchemical supplies, piles of fabrics, and the world’s most dangerous sheet of paper meant comfortable seating was hard to come by. Still, though, considering Azhani had been fairly stationary with her book for the past several hours, something was definitely amiss now.
“Holy fucking Tiber.” Fortunately for Azhani, Bjorn wasn’t paying much attention. “Is this woman really still asleep?” He had to grab Serana to make sure she didn’t fall out of the cart. As it turned out, she was indeed still asleep. The Dragonborn sighed and looked over his shoulder once he was sure his companion was properly vertical. “Anyways, how’re you doin’ back there? Quill lived up to her reputation, I hope.”
“What?” Azhani did her best to not move around too much. “Oh, uh… yeah, it’s, uh, it’s a good book.” She shuffled around and presser her legs together as discreetly as possible. “Hey, we’ve, uh, we’ve been on the road a while, yes?”
“Yeah,” Bjorn sighed. “And we’ve still got another… two hours, almost, to make up for lost time today.” He quickly turned to look at something else – nothing in particular, just not at the Khajiit in his cart. “That, uh, that won’t be a problem, will it?”
Azhani gave herself a little squeeze as soon as she was sure she wasn’t being watched. “Nnn-no. No. It’s fine.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the doubt in her voice.
Bjorn responded with a “Hm”, and then the two refused to say anything for several minutes. Azhani couldn’t tell if the silence was making things worse. She was sure that a distraction would be really helpful, though, considering she now needed to add an extra two hours onto what had to be at least twelve by now. It wasn’t helping that the whole being-in-a-cart thing was just making the situation even more like Cyr-
“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Bjorn decided that that exact moment was the right time to strike up a conversation. “Uh, what were you doing before you got to Riften?” Then he hastily threw in, “B-besides, uh, Guild… stuff… I mean.”
“Before Riften?” Azhani shuffled around in a vain attempt to get comfortable. “This one… she, ah, she was wandering the, eh, the Empire. She l-left home as a girl, twelve years old, and just… went from town to town, to make money.” She was now lying down as well as she could in the limited space in the cart, with her tail wrapped around her legs. Only problem was she couldn’t get those to stop moving. “Bravil was closest big city to home that wasn’t… Dominion… so she st-started there.”
Bjorn looked over his shoulder again, which caused Azhani to straighten up again as quickly as she could. “Oh, you’ve been to Cyrodiil? When was that?”
Azhani winced from the effort of sitting up again, and her words blended with a low growl. “Brrrrrravil was… was… ten years ago.”
“Ten years?” Bjorn turned back to the road and took a moment to think, and then he lit up. “Hey, I was in Leyawiin for about a year or two back in the ‘90s. Might have even seen you on the way back north.”
Azhani shook her head. “Doubt it. No- nobody notices Khajiit in rags in the c-city where everyone is in rags.” Then she turned and looked at the back of the Dragonborn’s head. “Wait. You went south of the Jeralls?”
Bjorn looked over at the shaky Khajiit with a confused look on his face. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been all over the homeland. Leyawiin, Cheydinhal… Even been to Kvatch a couple times.”
“Kvatch?” Azhani leaned forward – as well as she could, anyways – and stared intently at Bjorn. She was even surprising herself with how effective a distraction this conversation was, especially considering the country they were discussing. “How is Kvatch? This one heard good things. She’s wanted to live there for years.”
The Dragonborn shook his head. “No, no no no no. You do not want to live in Kvatch. It’s a bunch of touristy bullshit.”
“Touristy?”
“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice place and all, but…” Bjorn took a deep breath. “But there’s fuck all to do there. Sure, looks nice, the people are nice, but it’s pretty much just a town full of shopkeepers trying to cash in on the Oblivion Crisis.” He turned to watch the road again and started using enthusiastic hand gestures while he talked. “Come see the town the Daedra destroyed, come see the house Jiub died in, come see the place Emperor Martin took a shit once.” He shook his head. “They even rebuilt the fucking arena, but it’s all just reenactments of either the liberation of Kvatch, the Battle of Bruma, or the assault on the Temple of the One - or whatever the fuck the Thalmor want us to call it now. Temple of Akatosh? What the fuck ever. Point is, they don’t do anything good there. Yeah, we get it, your town was destroyed two hundred years ago. You can stop making a big deal out of it now.”
Azhani tilted her head. “So, what towns are good there?”
“Honestly?” Bjorn shrugged. “None of them. Cyrodiil’s a terrible place to live. Can’t go more than a week without someone somewhere destroying everything. I mean, sure, I’ve never actually seen a Cyrodiil that’s not reeling from the Great War, but, still… It sucks. It’s home and everything, but with all the shit that’s been going on for the past thousand years, it’s not a great place to live.”
“Oh. W-“
“But!” Bjorn cut Azhani off. “Assuming nothing goes horribly wrong, I deal with the dragons, and the Dominion gets their ass kicked… I’d like to retire to Anvil.”
The Khajiit’s legs crossed, un-crossed, then crossed again. Hopefully subtly. “Why Anvil?”
“It held up really well during the Crisis, and even though it got its ass kicked by the Dominion it’s still pretty rich.” Bjorn reached for his flask and took a sip. “And, anyways, it’s a major port, but apparently it was a calm place with good people before the War came along and fucked everything up.” He shrugged again. “I dunno, it might never get back to the way it was, but it’d be nice. Anyways, you got any plans other than Kvatch?”
Azhani shrugged and bounced her legs absentmindedly. “This one isn’t the plan-making type. Never had money for that. But, uh, she’s from Rimmen…” She shook her head. “No, this one left for a reason. It wouldn’t be home anymore.” Hopefully, Bjorn couldn’t see her eyes watering. It was better than if that moisture were much lower, though, but still. And if she didn’t deal with things soon…
Bjorn looked over his shoulder again, then turned back immediately, realizing it was probably in his best interests to not get too involved. “W-well, there’s still Riften, right? Just stick with Keerava and Talen, things won’t be all bad.”
“Aren’t they trying to get out of Skyrim?”
“Y-yeah, they are. But they’re your friends, aren’t they? I’m sure they’d help you out with something once they don’t have to worry about keeping their lives together.”
Azhani let out another low growl, trying to form it into a word instead while she shifted around. “Rrrrrrreally?” She hesitantly reached for her waterskin and drank a little bit. She didn’t really want to, for obvious reasons, but the one downside to using a conversation as a distraction was that it made her thirsty. And then that ultimately just made things worse.
The Dragonborn nodded. “I don’t see why not.” He turned around just enough to see what was going on in the back of the cart and saw that Azhani had moved herself to be sitting on the floor, with her foot jammed underneath her. “Uh, you sure you’re okay?”
Azhani’s response was to cross her arms and press herself even harder into her foot. “Fine.”
“If you say so.” Bjorn rolled his eyes and turned back to the road.
Of course, Azhani was most certainly not fine, and as soon as the Dragonborn wasn’t looking anymore, she got straight to doing whatever she could do to make herself last just a little longer. And she was definitely not thinking of the fact that the entire conversation they’d just finished could only possibly have taken up twenty minutes at most. That would have bad implications, plus it felt like it had taken more than an hour, so clearly that was the proper thing to believe.
For all the “training” she’d received from Keerava over the past month, the one thing she never prepared for was the possibility that she wouldn’t be able to relieve herself in the morning. After all, why should she? There would always be an opportunity for that. Now she was mentally kicking herself – physically too, to some extent, and with a loose definition of “kicking” – the entire point of the training was to prepare Azhani’s tiny bladder for unforeseen circumstances, especially relating to work. Well, here was an unforeseen circumstance that she hadn’t been prepared for. Keerava would be disappointed. Or maybe just aroused. Either way, Azhani didn’t really want to consider either of those situations. The former was just shameful, and the latter was… weird, to say the least.
The good thing was that Keerava wasn’t there. And, assuming no further Dragonborn interventions, Azhani would have some degree of privacy to do whatever she needed to. Well, not whatever, considering the one thing she actually did need to do was practically impossible. That would be varying degrees of rude and unsanitary. And possibly deadly – were Elder Scrolls waterproof? This was not the time to find out.
So, Azhani sat where she was, rocking back and forth and occasionally shivering, despite the fact that she hadn’t actually taken off the cloak she’d received from Bjorn since putting it on the day before, and it was still just a few hours after noon so the sun still had quite a long way to go before disappearing below the horizon. The fact that the road had just recently turned to run much closer to the banks of the Treva wasn’t helping matters at all. It was close enough to hear – it still was before, but it could be ignored then. Now it couldn’t, and there was the added bonus of not being able to run off somewhere farther away. If she could have done that, she would have a long time ago, but if she were to jump out of the cart somewhere, it’d take her far too long to find her way into a secluded spot in the woods, do what needed to be done, get back, and then find the cart again. It’d probably just waste even more time since the Dragonborn would either stop and wait for her or go back and try to find her once he noticed she was missing. For as much as she really wanted to do that and be done with it, it was not a good solution. She was in this mess because of wasted time, after all.
What made things worse was that that was the only solution, really. Azhani had already pawed through the alchemy bags – for completely unrelated reasons – and found a bunch of little vials just a bit bigger than her hands, several of them stained with the remnants of that vegetarian mixture Serana drank. No big mixing jugs or anything. Nobody even takes those on trips like this anyways, especially not adventurers. Alchemy equipment just weighs them down to the point of immobility if they were to try to take some along and grab a bunch of loot out of whatever Ayleid ruin they were plundering. Plus, these vials were glass, so even if they were big enough to contain the rather excessive amounts of liquid they needed to, they’d make a lot of noise, so they wouldn’t be an option anyways.
She had also given some consideration to grabbing up some of the cloth that was lying around the cart, shoving it all underneath her, and just letting loose then tossing the stuff overboard when she was finished. That idea was quickly dismissed, since everything that would actually be useful in that situation was either a blanket or an article of clothing. In other words, things that were far better off not covered in what was essentially cat piss. Sure, there were some apparently-useless rags and little scraps of cloth, but not only were those used to conceal the Elder Scroll, they also wouldn’t be anywhere near absorbent enough. And “absorbent enough” was becoming a higher and higher bar by the second.
Then there was the much simpler choice, which was also the first one to be ruled out: Azhani could just give up and wet herself right where she sat. That would do by far the most damage, and it’d waste by far the most time. Pretty much anything touching the ground would be soaked to the point of being ruined, everything would need to be cleaned out, all the food would need to be destroyed and replaced… It was clearly the worst idea. Plus, even if she’d wanted to do it, she wasn’t really sure if she could. After all, she was very much in public. Sure, the road was deserted aside from the cart Azhani was riding on, but there were two people within arm’s reach of her that would definitely hear things happening. There would be no way she’d relax enough to let that happen, especially considering she was still extremely uncomfortable with Serana for reasons she still didn’t quite know. She’d forgotten to ask about that, and now was nowhere near a suitable time.
So, having ruled out all possible means by which to relieve herself, Azhani was left with only one thing to do: wait as long as necessary. She knew it was possible, theoretically. As long as there were people around to see, her body would fight itself for her. She learned that in Cyrodiil. She also learned that relying on her bladder-shyness would just end up with her in pain, or worse, so ultimately even her only viable option wasn’t a very good one. What made things even worse was that she was pretty damn sure that her wait now was at least as long as it had been then – which meant it’d end the same way, if the next hour could hurry along and finish. And if it couldn’t, it’d end worse.
If there were literally anything at all Azhani could do about her situation, things would be fine. But as it stood, all she could do was sit around and bounce and shake and just try to not have things end catastrophically. She couldn’t even see properly anymore, and all the sounds around her were starting to blend together into some formless roaring. At least, she sure did hope that was the many hours of urine in her fucking with her head, and not something incredibly inconvenient like a giant, until-recently mythical, carnivorous beast about to fall out of the sky and cut off their path. Knowing her luck…
As far as she could tell, though, she got lucky. She didn’t have to add “escape a dragon attack with an extremely full bladder and also find a place to take care of that problem at the same time” to the list of things she needed to deal with. Not yet, anyways.
Her only real solace was that she was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one on the cart dealing with this problem of hers. She had no idea what kind of machine Bjorn was, but Serana would surely be in a similar position to her by now. At least, if she were awake, she would be. Possibly. Unless she woke up early and took care of it, and that was why she was already waiting on the cart that morning. But even then, enough time had passed for it to become a problem, right? But then, if it had become a problem for Serana, too, surely she would have woken up by now? Maybe Azhani was just doomed to meet only steel-willed, iron-bladdered women in the Rift. After all, that seemed to be the rule so far, given the amazing sample size of two people.
Come to think of it, Azhani hadn’t actually met all that many other Khajiit since leaving home, and she didn’t remember anyone from Anequina other than her own parents and that boy from Riverhold that she liked. Maybe everyone she’d meet would be way better than her, just because all Khajiit were cursed with completely useless bladders. Though, hers wasn’t exactly completely useless – it was doing its job, after all, and it was sticking out in front of her a good deal as if to demonstrate how good of a job it was doing.
Why was she even thinking about that anyways? That was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to have on her mind. But then, she really couldn’t distract herself with anything else either. She couldn’t see or think straight, so she couldn’t read, and salted meat would make things worse, so she couldn’t eat… Azhani was really sure that things were not going to end well for her. In fact, she was ready to give up – wanted to, even, because at least then this whole situation would be over. There was just one small problem with that, and that was the fact that it was completely impossible. This was just Cyrodiil all over again; no matter how much she wanted it to be over, she wouldn’t be able to actually do anything about it until she was able to be alone. Which meant she had to just sit there for who-knows-how-long, waiting for that opportunity. The only good thing about this compared to Cyrodiil was that she at least had some idea of how long she had to keep waiting – not a very good idea, but some vague concept of time passing and time that still needed to pass nonetheless. She knew it was just a little longer, so she kept telling herself that, whispering it as she rocked back and forth on the floor of the cart. The more she repeated it, the more time would pass, so the truer it would become. Flawless.
Eventually, it did come true. She felt the cart stop, felt some boxes bump into her as things settled into place… There was even some mumbling that must have been the Dragonborn saying something, but Azhani was in too much pain to understand anything that was going on around her. All she knew was that right now, she had to stand up.
Just stand up.
It’s not that hard.
All she had to do was one thing.
Just one, simple thing.
Azhani was stuck.
That just made her angry. Here she was, given a perfect opportunity to take care of what was extremely necessary, and she couldn’t get herself to stand up. It’d make sense if she were stuck on something, or under something. But no, she just couldn’t stand, and could barely move at all to begin with. After all that, she couldn’t let it end like this. She heard movement around her but couldn’t pinpoint it. As much as she didn’t want to, Azhani tried asking for help, but she couldn’t make a sound. She heard what sounded like a voice, but it didn’t seem to be talking to her. But then it got closer. Sounded female. Azhani still had no idea what the voice was saying, nor could she see the person it was coming from, but she tried to respond to it.
Azhani managed to lift an arm and was almost immediately dragged to her feet. She then felt her body get pulled along the cart for a bit, then for a brief moment she was in the air, and then she was standing on solid ground again, leaning against something- no, someone else. She felt the weight of a body on one side of her, and what must have been a hand that had been placed on her shoulder on the other side.
The person she was leaning on – Serana, most likely – spoke to her, but Azhani still couldn’t hear exactly what was being said. All she did was make an attempt to walk forwards, and fairly soon she was more or less being dragged along towards what was probably the woods. Her vision was still blurred, but she could see well enough to know what they were headed for. That, and it was the only logical destination.
Azhani and Serana walked for a while, long enough to put the sounds of the river far between a sizeable barrier of trees – at least, that’s probably what happened, since the little roaring sound wasn’t there anymore. Azhani felt herself get propped up against a tree, then apparently was asked a question. She just nodded and waved Serana away, reaching down with trembling hands to undress.
It took a little while, and she almost fell over getting into position, but eventually she was fully prepared to just let everything go.
And yet she couldn’t. Hopefully she didn’t break anything, because she really needed to, but was just completely incapable.
Azhani opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, she was jabbed in the abdomen. When that didn’t accomplish anything other than a single spurt, she felt pressure being gradually applied, and then fairly soon she broke down. Azhani closed her eyes and let herself slide down to sit on the forest floor as she removed what was probably sixteen hours of liquid from her system. Her senses came back to her after a few seconds, and she realized she’d ended up sitting on both her tail and the cloak she was so kindly given. Whoops. Nothing she could do about that now. That could all be washed once she’d finished.
“Gods, I thought we’d left the Treva behind us.”
Azhani opened one eye to look at the source of the voice. Serana was standing nearby, just close enough to help out if need be, but far enough away for it to technically be considered privacy. She didn’t really care at this point. Things had worked out for her, just barely. And, if she was honest, they probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t gotten help. She was… a little bit grateful for that, though it was still really weird that Serana was watching her. Half because it was Serana and half because she was being watched. Though, Azhani had to admit, it was quite a spectacle. She’d never actually seen that much urine come out of her at once, and with such force. Keerava would have approved.
It took a couple of minutes for the torrent to die down to what could reasonably be called a stream, then it took a little while for that to die off, too. Azhani was left sitting in what was now mud, panting, half-naked, and effectively soaked from the waist down. The cloak wasn’t in usable condition, her tail was thoroughly saturated, and her pants had taken lots of collateral damage thanks to her positioning. But at least it was over.
“Need help getting up?” Serana had come closer and was offering a hand, which Azhani took. She was pulled to her feet surprisingly quickly, considering she was making no effort at all to actually stand up. “That’s all pretty much ruined, isn’t it?”
Azhani looked down at herself. “Yeah. All ruined.”
“Well, here.” Serana unhooked a piece of fabric from her shoulders – essentially a miniature cape – and handed it to Azhani. “You can wear that as a skirt, get to camp, and I’ll deal with…” She gestured to the pile of soaked clothes left in the mud. “…this.”
Azhani nodded and wrapped the cape-thing around her waist. It was shorter than she would have liked, and she couldn’t really negotiate her tail into it very well, so just had to wrap the “skirt” over it and have her tail hang straight down, but it was better than walking around half-naked. At least, she felt like it was; a human probably couldn’t see any details, but Azhani still had some degree of dignity. “What about you?” She looked over at Serana and pulled her cloak off, slinging it over one arm.
“What about me?”
“Don’t you need to…”
“No.” Serana was trying to collect Azhani’s discarded clothes without getting her own clothes wet or dirty. It was harder than it sounded. “I’m fine.”
That could not possibly have been true, but it really wasn’t Azhani’s business. So she just shrugged and picked her way through the woods, after being pointed in the proper direction.
Azhani was pretty sure she’d just sleep for the rest of the trip that day. She’d earned it.
Edited February 24, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
The next two days were uneventful. A dragon flew by once, early in the morning on Turdas, but either couldn’t detect the group through the trees they were under, or just didn’t care about them. Thus, for the last leg of the trip, Azhani alternated between being asleep and reading the book she had dug up – it was about some monoliths in Cyrodiil that had constellations carved into them. Azhani had seen some things like that in her travels, but in her experience, the ones in Cyrodiil didn’t do anything at all, unlike their relatives in Skyrim. The book was based on the premise that they did do things, and was written well enough that Azhani generally couldn’t tell what time it was unless the cart stopped or it got dark enough that she had to light a candle.
She did have another tool for sensing the passage of time, but to her surprise it wasn’t very useful until they got to the borders of Ivarstead – there was plenty of tree cover up until then, and by the time they got to the edge of town there was practically no travelling left to do anyways. Still, though, they’d skipped their usual lunch break on the last day because they were too close to town to justify stopping, so now she was hoping they’d get done weaving through the streets soon and stop by some inn or something. Azhani had been wearing Serana’s clothes since the incident on Middas, and they were a much better fit for her than she’d expected, comfortable, and she liked the way the light gray looked on her, so she really didn’t want anything to happen to them.
Of course, given that Ivarstead was a small mining town, and getting smaller by the day, travel through the town was fast enough to not be an inconvenience. The inconvenience would be the time spent renting a place to keep the horse and cart, unloading the cart, and preparing the Elder Scroll for transportation. That was the hardest part. Serana already had a belt she could have attached the Scroll to, so that she’d be able to carry it on her back, but they couldn’t just have a Scroll out in the open for everyone to see and potentially steal. So, they had to spend a good twenty minutes wrapping the Scroll in the cloth they’d hidden it under, making sure that no part of it would be visible to anyone, and that the cloth wouldn’t fly off in the wind. Then they had to make sure that Serana could wear a cloak over it and it wouldn’t be obvious there was something there.
“Because,” the Dragonborn said, after Azhani impatiently questioned him on the purpose of hiding it so thoroughly. “If there’s just this bundle of cloth on her back, it’d look kind of suspicious. And if she were to just wear the Scroll outright, the cloak could easily fly up and reveal it. Considering we still have to go through town, up the mountain, and sit through however long this summit is going to last, I’d prefer if we attract as little attention as possible.” When Azhani glared at him, he added, “I realize that is still a large amount of attention. Even so, it’s best that people don’t know we have a Scroll with us.”
So, all Azhani could do was stand there with her arms crossed, absentmindedly tapping her foot. Sure, technically she had money for once. She got a decent commission on the money she’d “recovered” from Keerava, so she could have just tracked down the inn and rented a room for a little bit of privacy.
She could, if she hadn’t left her coinpurse in Riften. That complicated things, all because she had a habit of not having money that needed to be carried around, and as a result didn’t normally wear a purse that had no practical function. Would have been really nice to have noticed that she didn’t have it with her when they set out. Thus, she could only wait. If nothing else, Azhani at least knew that they’d have to stop by an inn somewhere – it was already a few hours past noon, and the food they’d brought along had either been eaten already or sold off as payment for stable space. Or barn space, in this case, considering they had to store a cart as well. There was no way they’d attempt the 7000 steps without having had lunch.
Sure enough, as soon as the Elder Scroll was hidden to Bjorn’s satisfaction, they set out down the quiet roads to the one place in town that could be called a “major” inn. To Azhani’s great annoyance, the Dragonborn stopped just outside the door.
“So,” he said. “We’ve probably got time for a few hours’ rest, so I’ll buy us a couple of rooms, and we can get some food here too.” He gave a sideways glance at Azhani. “It’s a long way up to High Hrothgar. No sense starting on it unless we’re all fully prepared.”
Azhani rolled her eyes and followed a little behind him and Serana as they all went inside. She even came up to the counter, but only long enough for Bjorn to slide a small pouch of money across the counter and hand her a key. Conveniently, the inn’s rooms were all on the ground floor, so all she needed was a short dash across the dining room to get to privacy. But, of course, things just had to be inconvenient anyways. Azhani whined a little bit as she remembered what she’d been using as a belt.
Serana’s clothes, despite being close enough to Azhani’s size to be wearable, were still too big to not slide off every two seconds. Azhani’s solution to this problem was to grab a rope and tie it up into a complicated knot, thus serving as a tight belt. It did what it needed to do, but right now it was just annoying. She’d only decided on this solution that morning, when she was informed that their destination was near – she figured it would be pretty stupid to try climbing a mountain while also trying to keep her pants from falling off, and then most likely flying away because that’s just the type of thing a mountain would do to her. The makeshift belt did what it needed to, though, albeit a little bit too well. As a result, Azhani couldn’t do anything other than fumble around with it, trying to find the one little part of it that’d get the rest to come loose, and with the work she’d put into tying it that morning, that wasn’t easy.
The fact that Azhani could still hear people talking and the bard singing also wasn’t helping matters. Among other things, it made it harder to concentrate on the one thing she very much did need to focus on. After a couple of minutes with no success, she moved over to the bed and sat down, still prodding at the mess of rope that was getting in the way of her relief. The large pale stain on her cloak was an unpleasant reminder of what would happen if she couldn’t get things figured out in time.
She was rather amused, though. Pretty much any other time, Azhani couldn’t tie a knot to save her life. And now here she was, trapped by a knot she had tied so well that she couldn’t get it untied. Or perhaps not knowing how to tie a knot was the problem, and she’d actually done a really terrible job. After all, a well-tied knot would be secure, but come undone fairly easily. This was extremely secure, but that was about all it had going for it. Her right leg constantly bouncing wasn’t exactly making things any easier, nor was the fact that there was that little metal bowl constantly off to the side of her line of sight. Probably best if she were to just… slide that back under the bed for now.
It took another couple of very annoying minutes for Azhani’s prodding at her makeshift belt to loosen it up enough to come apart. She wasn’t quite sure what she did, or how she managed to avoid breaking a claw doing it, but that wasn’t really all that important if it meant she could unwrap the unholy abomination of rope she’d created. Perfect timing, too – right as Azhani got her belt off and her pants a little bit down, she’d inadvertently let out just enough to create a little puddle on the bed, which was almost immediately absorbed into the sheets. Wasting no time, she turned around and dropped into a squat directly over where she was sure she’d seen the chamberpot last and started to release.
Except that sounded more like wood than metal.
It had only been for a few seconds, and her stream hadn’t quite had enough time to get to full strength, but it still took some effort for Azhani to stop herself. She knew exactly what she’d find if she were to look down, so shoved one hand between her legs to make sure she didn’t start up again, while the other hand fished around under the bed. After a moment that was just long enough to feel an unpleasant warmth on her fingers, she’d dragged the pot out and under herself. Her hand got out of the way just in time for her stream to start again in force. She was certain that everyone outside could hear, and she knew someone would end up paying for the damage to the bed and floor – it wasn’t much, but, still, they’d find a way to charge for it. Especially since the puddle on the floor would, sooner or later, soak into the boards and leave them marked fairly permanently. Azhani made a mental note to do what she could to not get the same room on the way back from the Greybeards’ temple. Or, ever again, really.
About a minute later, Azhani stood up and dressed herself up again, this time making sure her belt would be much simpler, while still being effective enough to actually be a belt. It mostly did what it had to do, so she slid the chamberpot back underneath the bed with one foot – still not looking down; she didn’t need to to know that the puddle she’d left had found a way to get her feet wet – and then headed out into the main room as if nothing had happened.
Though, apparently, in the time she’d been gone, something interesting had indeed happened. The Dragonborn and Serana were sat at a table with a large assortment of meats and other foods laid out on it, and there was a golden-haired man in very expensive-looking furs seated across from the Dragonborn. He had a Dunmer lady behind him and a balding (Imperial, as far as Azhani could tell, but that was only because all the balding men she’d seen had been Imperials) man seated at his side. There was also a handful of yellow-cloaked soldiers standing around, some of them carrying shields with a horse-head motif painted on them.
They’d only recently arrived, apparently, since the innkeeper was just now handing out drinks to the well-dressed man and his companions, and Bjorn already had a few bottles scattered around on his side of the table. As Azhani got closer, she heard the Dragonborn trying to strike up a conversation in the brief moments there wasn’t either a slab of meat or a mug in his face.
“So,” he said when he got a chance, “Have you heard anything from the others?” Bjorn gave a little nod of acknowledgement to Azhani as she took a seat at his side, but neither of them said anything. The Dragonborn was already getting back to work at the food he had in front of him, though, so at least he had an excuse for being quiet.
“They say Ulfric should be here soon. No news about Tullius or those Blades of yours.” Now that she was close enough to get a good look at him, Azhani could identify the man as Balgruuf the Greater. She tried not to make eye contact, but he’d noticed her anyways. “Do I know you, little lady?” His Dunmer companion was looking at her, too, with an eyebrow raised and her arms folded.
Azhani’s response was to quickly grab the closest edible thing to her and shove it into her mouth, shaking her head fervently. Bjorn gave her a sideways glance and turned to the Jarl as soon as he could actually speak. “Uh, no?” He had no idea what he was doing. He knew it, Azhani knew it, Serana knew it. That Dunmer probably knew it too. “Her name is Azhani. She came here with me from Riften.”
Balgruuf kept looking at the Khajiit for a little bit, but then took a swig of his drink and turned to the elf behind him. “Irileth,” he said, before trailing off into some quiet instructions. Irileth just nodded and disappeared into one of the inn rooms, and the Jarl turned back to Azhani. “Nice to meet you, then.”
Azhani gave a little nod and got back to eating to guarantee that she wouldn’t have to make conversation. Plus, it was good food. She wasn’t exactly big on cooking meat most of the time, but the sausages at this particular inn were made exactly the right way with exactly the right seasoning. They were making her thirsty, though, so the first chance she got she managed to direct the innkeeper to get her some mead.
“I don’t suppose,” Balgruuf said, leaning forward with a hand over the top of his mug, “that there’s any way at all to convince you to not bring a dragon to my home.”
“Nope.” The Dragonborn seemed a little bit too happy about that, considering he was suggesting that a giant winged death machine should be lured directly into Skyrim’s center of trade. “You wouldn’t have come all the way out here if there were any other way to get rid of Alduin.” He finished off his current mug of whatever and waved the innkeeper over for another bottle or dozen.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, then.” Balgruuf sat back and brought his mug halfway up, then stopped and went on talking. “You… do have a plan, don’t you?”
Bjorn and Serana looked at each other, and Azhani looked around the room, not entirely sure what was going on. “I’m not going to lie to you, Balgruuf.” Bjorn leaned forward with both arms on the table, hands folded in front of his face. “I have no fucking idea what in Oblivion I’m supposed to be doing. I was hoping the Greybeards would tell me.”
“So, what you’re saying is…” The Jarl calmly took a sip from his mug and flagged down the innkeeper for more. “… that you had me come all the way out here, to discuss a truce, so that you can execute a plan in my city that you don’t have yet.”
“Well, yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Bjorn said, “but you’re missing the real point here. There are more important things right now. This whole dragon thing? Honestly, I can deal with that shit when the fuck ever I want. I could probably even go catch a dragon literally anywhere. It just so happens that your nice little castle was built specifically for that. But that’s not the point.” He filled up his mug with one of the bottles he’d been given, took a swig, and continued. “What is the point, is that I’ve got this amazing opportunity just handed to me right here, all because you just happen to be the most convenient way to get one of the things that I need. I’m not going to throw that away on some fucking dragons that I can yell at until they die no matter what you do.” He gave a little hand wave and drank some more. “No, I’ve got the chance to do something really important for everyone. Do you really think I’d go through all this effort just to get Tullius and Ulfric to stop fighting for just as long as it takes them to get back home?”
Balgruuf shook his head. “I see what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. Ulfric is too stubborn. You think he’d agree to give up on his quest to become High King? As long as he’s alive, he’s going to be fighting the Empire.”
“He will give up, if I can pound into his head that the Empire isn’t the real enemy.” Bjorn tapped the table in time with the last four words. “I’ll have to see what kind of terms I can get for the end of the war, but if things work out, one way or another he won’t be a problem. More importantly, when the time comes, he’ll be a valuable tool in the real war. And I know he won’t turn his back on that opportunity.”
The Jarl of Whiterun leaned back as far as he could as his eyes widened. “Are you suggesting…” He shook his head again. “You’re completely insane.”
Bjorn chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.” Then he raised his mug as a toast. “To Tiber Septim,” he said, perhaps a little too loud. “To the Nine.” He downed whatever drink he had left and poured himself some more. Serana and Azhani quietly raised their own drinks – Serana’s being in a cheap goblet as opposed to the mugs and tankards everyone else was drinking out of – while Balgruuf muttered something under his breath. Azhani didn’t really know why she was joining in on the toast, but twelve years with the Dominion was enough experience to know that it was her chance to stick it to them. In spirit, anyways.
After that, the meal carried on in relative silence, and once everyone had finished eating they just lounged around at the table instead of actually going anywhere.
“Should be almost sunset,” Serana commented, with her feet on the table and her chair looking as if it could fall back at any moment.
“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” Bjorn got up and stretched. “We should be going soon, then.”
Balgruuf leaned forward. “You’re going to climb the tallest mountain the world, and one of the most dangerous, at night?”
The Dragonborn shrugged. “Yeah. I want to get there first, and really, it’s not like it’ll be any different than climbing during the day.” He pointed at each of his companions. “Everyone’s got darksight. No big deal.” His eyes glowed blue for a moment as a demonstration.
“Fair point.” The Jarl nodded. “I suppose I’ll meet you up there, then.”
“Yep. You two ready?” He looked over at Serana, who worked her way out of her chair without knocking anything over or getting the Scroll out of position, and at Azhani, who gave a shrug and a little nod before getting up. “Alright, I’m gonna grab us some supplies for the climb, we can meet out where the steps start.”
Serana nodded and quietly left the inn, but Azhani stayed behind for a moment. “Uhh…” she started, lifting one foot off the ground and wiggling it around a bit to demonstrate that it was, indeed, a foot. Problem being it was just a foot, and bare feet were not optimal for mountain-climbing.
Bjorn looked over, raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, right, I’ll get you some boots too. Don’t know if anyone around here actually makes Khajiit shoes, but I’ll find something. Just, uh, go wait with Serana, I’ll be right there.”
Azhani nodded and turned to leave, walking past way more city guards than she was comfortable with. Once she’d left the building, she took a moment to look around and see which direction she was supposed to be heading in. Down one road there was a cart loaded with more city guards, these ones wearing blue. Or, it looked like blue, anyways. It wasn’t quite dark enough yet to justify using Nighteye, but it was still pretty hard to make out colors at a distance. Whatever they were wearing, they must have been one of the other delegations that the Dragonborn had invited.
That wasn’t exactly any of her business, though, and Azhani figured it’d be a good idea for her to leave before someone who did recognize her showed up. She heard someone behind her shout “Death to the Stormcloaks” as she walked away, and that only made her walk faster. That was something she definitely didn’t want to get caught up in. Fortunately, that wouldn’t be a concern, and soon enough she found herself at the bridge leading directly to the foot of the Throat. Serana was sitting on the stone railing, looking up at the sky and watching the moons come into view as the sky grew darker. She didn’t acknowledge Azhani until the Khajiit came over and sat next to her.
“Never done this before, have you?” Serana continued looking up at the sky as she spoke.
Azhani looked over at her, and then up at the moons. “Nope. First time.” She still felt weird in Serana’s presence, but considering they’d been stuck in a cart for the past four days and nothing bad happened, she couldn’t be that bad.
Serana looked over at the Khajiit without moving her head. “It’s… a bit of an experience. You should be fine, though. Just hang back and we’ll take care of everything.”
“You don’t have a weapon, though.”
Serana didn’t say anything. She just held out her left hand, palm up, and a block of ice soon appeared. She moved her arm across the front of her body and the block turned into something that could be called a spear. Then she brought the ice-spear back and casually tossed it away over the bridge. “You were saying?”
Azhani just nodded.
“Y’know, it would help if you were to get yourself a knife or something.” Serana turned to look at Azhani. “Learn some magic, whatever. Running around defenseless is… kind of a bad idea.”
“This one never learned how to fight,” Azhani said. “A knife would be useless in real danger.”
“True.” Serana jumped off the edge of the bridge, reaching back and adjusting the Scroll to keep it properly positioned. “Tell you what, once we get done here, I can show you how. Or the Dragonborn could if he ever gets time. Either way, good skills to learn.” She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Bjorn approaching, with a pair of boots in hand and a bag slung over his shoulder. He’d even brought his sword from the cart and had it hanging off his belt. “Until then, though, just stay out of the way, alright?”
Azhani nodded and hopped to the ground just in time to have those boots thrown at her.
“Try those on,” the Dragonborn said. “They didn’t have any made special for Khajiit, but they should still fit well enough. Better than nothing, anyways.”
Sure enough, the boots were a decent fit. Azhani slid them on without too much issue, and they fit around her legs nicely, and they were warm. They were completely the wrong shape for her feet though, and that would be mildly uncomfortable, but there was enough space there for it to not be too big of an issue. At the very least, she wouldn’t need to wear them very long, and could just take them off once they got to the temple. She walked back and forth for a bit to confirm that they were usable, then just shrugged.
Bjorn took that as confirmation, so he set off towards the mountain. “Alright then, let’s get going.”
Serana followed close behind, and Azhani took up the rear, making sure to keep her distance in case anything were to happen. There was still just enough light to see without Nighteye, and Azhani’s cloak, despite its damage, was warm enough combined with Serana’s clothes that the temperature wouldn’t be a concern. Bjorn had surely packed food and drink, so all they had to do was get to High Hrothgar.
Still, Azhani couldn’t help but feel that there was something missing. Like she’d forgotten something.
It didn’t take long to figure out what she’d forgotten. It took longer to figure out why, but even then, the answer was surprisingly simple, if a little contradictory.
It was the alcohol. That was both the cause of this problem and the reason it hadn’t been dealt with earlier. Sure, Azhani hadn’t gotten drunk or anything, but she still knew it wouldn’t be the greatest idea to break the seal in town when she still had to climb up a mountain with no certain cover. She wasn’t entirely sure if that would even be a problem, but she still figured that holding on and taking care of the problem just once would be much better than the chance of having to deal with it constantly.
Plus, in her own defense, she actually didn’t really need to go until they were already working their way up the mountain. She could have, but somehow, she managed to not feel it. And even if she had needed to, she wasn’t too keen on returning to her room, so odds are she would have been stubborn and tried to wait it out anyways.
Fortunately for Azhani, that hadn’t been the case, and she wasn’t actually in terrible shape just yet – surely, she would have been by if she actually had noticed the need back at the inn – so she was fairly confident she’d be able to wait a while longer.
The one problem with that was she had no idea how far they had to climb, it was fairly steep, and Nighteye was just making things blur together, so anything other than the path forward was practically invisible. At the very least, Azhani didn’t have to deal with any of the various things that were attacking the group on the way up. There’d be an ice wraith or some troll every so often, but Bjorn would Shout fire at it or Serana would skewer it and it’d be dealt with. It was slowing things down, though. Nature was putting her in this situation in the first place, it didn’t have to make things harder for her on top of everything else.
Azhani was fairly sure they’d have to take a break somewhere along the line, though. They’d already been climbing for a couple of hours and they still didn’t really seem to be making much progress – though that could easily have been the Nighteye playing tricks on her. Even the Dragonborn couldn’t march on forever. Only problem would be finding somewhere to hide once they did stop. If the constant blue blur of what had to be a cliff face off to Azhani’s right was any indication, the mountain was rather unforgiving in that regard. She could potentially just go back down a bit, but she’d still be very much exposed, and still very much visible to her companions unless she were to find a part of the path that curved around, so she could use the mountain itself for cover. And by that point she’d end up alone and defenseless, so she’d have to bring Serana along to protect her, and that’d defeat the entire damn purpose.
There was also the chance that, actually, they were already close and could make it all the way up to the monastery in one go. But considering the size of the bag the Dragonborn was carrying, that wasn’t all too likely. And even then, she wasn’t sure what sort of facilities the Greybeards would have. Plus, if their name was any indication, they were a group composed entirely of elderly men. That would make things weird, to say the least.
The thunderous, earth-shaking boom of the Dragonborn Shouting a troll off the edge of the mountain brought Azhani back to reality, and it helped her realize two things. The first was that Unrelenting Force was not helping her situation at all. The second was that she was actually making things seem way worse than they actually were. Sure, it was taking a while, and sure, there was still that constant feeling that something needed to be done. But Azhani had been through far worse just that week. Getting to that point again wasn’t high on Azhani’s list of priorities, but, still, until it actually got to that point, her situation could always get worse. And, technically, even at that point it could still get worse, but then she’d end up permanently damaged for it. That wasn’t something to look forward to.
For now, all she could do was hope that they’d stop and eat soon, and that there would also be a bush or a cave nearby. Or just a big rock. Anything, really, as long as she could see it. For all she knew, she’d already passed by some perfectly valid cover, but she hadn’t seen it because it was too similar to the cliff face backdrop for it to get through the Nighteye filter. But then, if she couldn’t see it through Nighteye she wouldn’t be able to see it at all. At least, unless someone were to cast Light, but Azhani didn’t know any spells, Serana didn’t seem like the type that would use a spell like that, and the Dragonborn’s capabilities must have made something as crude and simple as Light seem like the kind of parlor trick one would perform at a child’s birthday party. And considering all three of them could see perfectly well in the dark, Light was, logically, entirely redundant. Come to think of it, this was a good lesson on the importance of redundancy.
A lesson for next time.
An hour passed and Azhani was really wishing that someone had learned that lesson sooner. It was cold, even with her warm clothes and cloak, and her attention had to be divided between climbing the mountain and… dealing with her other situation. And she would have greatly preferred being able to pay maximum attention to that. As it was, her need had escalated far quicker in the past hour than she’d anticipated, and considering there was still no indication that they’d be stopping any time soon, Azhani had to put some serious thought into giving up and just finding somewhere to hide. She could catch up to the others again when she’d finished.
The only problem with that idea was that, if the number of trolls and bears that had been Shouted over the edge of the mountain so far was any indication, she really didn’t stand much of a chance going out into some dark corner alone and unarmed.
Azhani shivered and put a hand between her legs. She really didn’t want to ask for help, but she also didn’t want to take the risk. It was cold, she really had to pee, and that would only get worse over time. Plus, even if they did stop she’d have to get an escort anyways to get somewhere private enough.
She didn’t really have much of a choice, so she sped up enough to get closer to Serana. After taking quite a while to confer with herself to determine that this was, indeed, the only valid option, Azhani quickly and lightly tapped Serana on the shoulder to get her attention. She tried to say something, but only managed to get out “Uh…”
Serana turned to look at the Khajiit. “Hm?” A quick glance at the little dance that was going on there was enough to determine the problem, so she just nodded and stopped. “Hey, you go on ahead, we’ll catch up with you, alright?”
Bjorn turned around – completely around, in fact, and he was now walking backwards along the trail. “Uh, sure, alright, don’t go too far.” Then he turned back to face the proper direction, and Serana set off back down the mountain, signaling for Azhani to follow.
It seemed to Azhani like they’d just spent a few minutes wandering in circles, and for all she knew that really was what they did, but they did eventually find a dead tree with some thin foliage trying to reach through the snow around it. Serana gestured at the tree then turned so that she was facing away from it, and Azhani hurried over and found what she was pretty sure was the most well-covered location.
There, she removed her pants just enough for them to not get in the way, dropped into a squat, and tried to relax. That wasn’t the easiest task, considering it was cold and there was someone standing just ten feet away. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes again, her Nighteye had turned off and there was the sound of a weak stream of liquid hitting the ground beneath her. The light from the moons was just enough to see rudimentary shapes, but other than that it was completely dark and Serana wasn’t particularly visible anymore. It was the illusion of being alone, at least.
After merely a few moments, though, the illusion was shattered all at once. Things happened too quickly for Azhani to keep track, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the shrieks some troll and saw Serana jump in front of her. Azhani couldn’t actually see the troll, but she did see a lot more of Serana than she would have liked – there was a red glow to her eyes she hadn’t noticed before, and in an instant a stream of red magical something flowing from who-knew-where into Serana’s hand lit up her face. She was very clearly angry, and her mouth was hanging open just enough for Azhani to see a set of teeth she’d only ever seen on other Khajiit.
Azhani didn’t even bother trying to stop her stream, she just pulled her clothes back up and ran. She didn’t know where she was running to, and she tripped over her own feet and more than a few roots and stones in the process, but she did know that was not a place she wanted to be. Azhani practically crashed face-first into the cliff wall, and as soon as she recovered she worked her way along the wall, keeping her hands against it to feel for any changes. Turning Nighteye back on hadn’t really come to mind just yet, and that uncomfortable warmth down below was pretty low-priority as well.
After a few seconds of blindly shuffling around the side of the mountain, Azhani felt the rock curve around into some recession or cave. A quick look at it showed that, according to what little was visible, it was just a small alcove that dug a few feet into the cliff wall. Azhani followed the curve of the cliff face until she came to a corner, then put her back to the wall and slid down to the floor. She sat there for a bit, trying to get her breathing under control, and once she’d calmed down enough to think straight, she looked out towards the sky, just staring at it for a little while. Tears filled her eyes as she watched the sky-lights dance, and soon enough her head was in her hands. For the next few minutes, all she could do was sit in her corner and cry.
Azhani didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, nor did she notice that she wasn’t alone anymore until she heard a voice.
“Hey. You okay?”
Azhani looked up and, through a haze of her own making, saw the faint shape of a body resting against the wall opposite her. The form included two faint red lights. Azhani just pulled her knees up to her chest and pressed back against her own wall.
“Yeah, I get it.” The lights lowered as Serana slid down to a sitting position. “I don’t suppose you’re going to talk, are you?”
Azhani sniffled in response.
“Alright. Sure.” There was the sound of fabric shifting around, but Azhani couldn’t tell what was happening. “We’ll just sit here for a while, then. But, uh, I don’t imagine it’d be all that great for you to stay here for too long.”
Azhani grunted. She didn’t really want to acknowledge that Serana was right – just a couple of minutes ago, Azhani was warm and wet. She was still wet now, but she was getting cold, too.
“Fine. Guess we’re sitting here until you’re ready to do something.”
The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching each other and not moving. Unsurprisingly, Serana was the first to speak.
“You know,” she said, “there are worse things you could have seen.”
“What?” Azhani’s voice was hoarse when she finally spoke, and even drier than normal. “What are you, exactly?”
Serana shook her head. “That’s not something you want to know the answer to.”
”No.” Azhani growled. “No more secrets.”
“Fine, fine.” The glow from Serana’s eyes vanished for a moment as she took a deep breath, then returned as she started to speak. “I was the daughter of Harkon Volkihar. Bjorn mentioned him. We had to kill him because he was trying to destroy the sun or… something.”
“What, not who.”
Serana sighed. “I was getting to that.” She looked over to the sky and continued. “The term for it is, uh, ‘Daughter of Coldharbour’, I think. Cursed by Molag Bal himself.”
“Cursed?” Azhani raised an eyebrow. “Don’t vampires call it a gift?”
“Oh, yeah, the ones who were lucky enough to get the disease, they call it a gift.” She shook her head. “But they don’t know…”
“Are you trying to get this one to feel bad for you?”
“What?” Serana’s head jerked over to look at Azhani. “No, no. You’ve got every reason to hate what I am. I know I hate what my father did to me.” She sighed. “But, really, it’s just who I am now. And I’m still the same person you met in Riften a few days ago.”
Azhani loosened up a bit, keeping her legs pulled in close. “If you hate it, why not get cured?”
Serana shrugged. At least, it looked like she was shrugging. Azhani still hadn’t turned her Night-eye back on. “I never really thought about it. And, like I said, it’s been part of me for so long that it’s just… me. Wouldn’t feel right to change it.”
Azhani took a moment to look around, then went back to growling again. “What else are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Yes, you are!” Azhani’s tail fluffed out. “What about the Scroll? When you met the Dragonborn.”
Another sigh, and the red lights disappeared for a second again. “You want to know about that? Really?” Azhani just nodded at her, so Serana continued. “Alright, well. That was my mother’s idea. My father had that plan of his to block out the sun and conquer the world. There was an Elder Scroll he needed for that, so I ended up sealed away with it. Dragonborn found me and we dealt with Harkon.”
“When did all this happen?”
Serana looked around before muttering something. Apparently, Azhani couldn’t hear, and when the question was asked again, another, louder answer was given. “It was… uh, according to the Dragonborn…” She put a hand to her mouth and spoke around it. “…a thousand years, at least.”
Azhani shivered. That wet sensation was kind of comforting a while ago, but now it was just cold, and things were sticking and freezing. “H-how old are you, then?”
“No idea.” Serana shrugged. “On top of the thousand years I was stuck looking at the inside of a box, I don’t really know how these last couple of eras work. Could be two, three thousand years. But, look, you’re fucking freezing to death here.” She stood up. “If you really want to keep talking, we can do it once we get out of here and find the Dragonborn, alright?” She extended a hand to help Azhani up, but the Khajiit just growled at her and pushed herself up off the floor. “You don’t trust me at all anymore, do you?”
“Nope. But we’re stuck together for now, hm?”
“Guess so.” She shrugged and pointed at Azhani. “But, you know, you’re gonna have to do something about that.”
Azhani shifted around uncomfortably to acknowledge her current state. “Sure, but what solution is there here?”
“Well, you’re wearing my clothes, aren’t you?”
Azhani wrapped her tail around her legs and pulled her cloak tighter around her body. “What?”
“It’d be really stupid for you to go out there wearing those. You’re soaked through. But…” Serana looked around at nothing in particular.
“Are you serious?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t see any other clean clothes around here, do you?”
Azhani sighed and knelt to work her way out of her boots. She finally had to turn her Night-eye on again to see what she was doing. “Fine. But make it quick.”
It took her a while to maneuver the ill-fitted boots off of her feet, and by the time she’d gotten them off and stood up, Serana was already naked from the waist down, holding her pants out in front of her with one hand and using the other to pull her cloak around for some semblance of cover. Azhani spent the next minute hopping from one foot to the other, trying simultaneously not to stand too long on the cold stone ground and also remove her own pants. Fortunately for her, at least, the latter task wasn’t particularly complicated, as they were glad to fall to the ground on their own once her belt was removed. Then she held out her hand and kicked her soiled clothes over in Serana’s general direction, moving her tail between her legs for whatever privacy was possible in such a situation.
Serana dropped her clothes into Azhani’s hands and carefully picked up what was on the ground. Azhani had no problem dressing, but Serana had to inspect what she was to wear before sliding her panties on, and then stepping into and pulling the pants up over them. “Gods,” she said. “This just isn’t right.” She moved her legs around in some attempt to find a position where the cold wetness was comfortable, but unfortunately for her there was no such thing. After Azhani had worked her way back into her boots, Serana sighed. “Well, let’s go then.”
“This doesn’t change anything, you know.” Azhani was trying not to look over at Serana and just stayed by her side as they worked their way up the mountain again.
“Yeah, I know.” Serana rolled her eyes.
By the time the two got back to the Dragonborn, he’d already found himself a shallow cave and lit a fire, already roasting some meat over it. He hailed his companions over as soon as he saw them. “Hey. What took you so long?” Then he got a closer look at them – Serana’s red top and thoroughly stained gray pants, and Azhani’s gray top and pristine red pants. “And, uh, what happened there?”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Serana said, immediately rummaging through the bag of supplies Bjorn had tossed aside. She pulled out one of her bottles and a clean set of clothes, then went into the cave.
“So.” The Dragonborn turned to Azhani, who had taken a seat as close to the fire as possible. “That seems like it was a bit of an adventure.”
“Cut the crap, Dragonborn.” Azhani pulled her ears back, flattening them. “Why didn’t you say anything about her?” She pointed in the general direction of where Serana disappeared to.
Bjorn folded his hands and brought them up to his chin, then took a deep breath. “So you found out, huh? Look, I’m sorry for not telling you anything, but I need you here. Would you honestly have come along if I told you we’d be travelling with a millennia-old Daughter of Coldharbour for a week?”
Azhani shrugged. “That’s… not the point. Don’t treat this one like some child that needs to be protected from every little thing. This one is… not sure whether to trust you, but it’d be easier to decide if you stopped keeping secrets.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” Bjorn gave a little nod. “I just couldn’t risk having you stay in Riften. I told you already, you’re my one chance at making this thing work. If Serana’s just some friend, some person, there’s nothing stopping you from coming along. And I mean, really, she is just a normal person. She hasn’t actually done anything, right?”
“Guess not.” Azhani pulled her shirt collar up around her neck as far as it would go.
“See? I wouldn’t have brought Serana along if I thought she’d do anything to hurt you. What kind of hero would I be then?” He sighed and grabbed the meat he was cooking from the fire, handing a piece over to Azhani. “I may have a dragon soul, but I’m not so much like them that I’m going to put innocent people in danger to get what I want.”
“You still should have said something.” Azhani already had her mouth full as she spoke.
“Yeah, probably.” The Dragonborn pulled his flask from his belt and took a drink. “But, I mean, you’re not really going to have any major problems with Serana, right? Like, you can still tolerate her?”
Azhani shrugged, gave a little nod, and kept eating.
“That’s good, I guess. So really all that happened was she scared you.” The answer was another little nod, so he continued. “Well, I’m a lot more dangerous and scary than she is. You’ll be fine.”
“You know,” Azhani said, having finished her food entirely. She spoke while looking around for her waterskin. “She said something about how there were worse things to see. What was she talking about?”
Bjorn looked behind him into the cave and at the very faint red glow in the distance that indicated he was being watched. “Uh…”
“Bjorn.” Azhani had her arms folded.
“Right, right.” He turned back around and sighed. “She’s not strictly… uh, human.” Another swig from his flask and he continued. “That whole family, they can turn into these big vampiric monsters. Serana doesn’t do it – at least, I’ve never seen her do it – but I know she could. I don’t know if it’s anything like lycanthropy where you’re not fully in control of yourself while you’re transformed, but if anything, I’d guess that’s why she sticks to human form.”
“Knowing she can do that doesn’t really make things any better…”
“No, but you asked about it.” Bjorn shrugged. “Just consider yourself lucky that, whatever happened out there, you weren’t actually in any real danger. No more than you are with me, at least.” He stood up and stretched. “Anyways, you should try to get some rest. We’re going to start moving again in a few hours.”
Azhani woke up just before sunrise to Bjorn’s prodding. Or, whatever the equivalent of waking up would be, considering she didn’t really fall asleep. She tried, but in hindsight she probably shouldn’t have asked about Serana’s transformation. That wasn’t exactly a relaxing concept. So, instead she was just lying on the floor of the cave with a blanket for a while. Breakfast was had, and there was an unusual lack of conversation, and then the group continued up the mountain in silence. Azhani was hanging around a little farther behind than she had the previous night, only partially because of how tired she was.
By late morning, they’d arrived at what almost looked like a fortress built into the side of the mountain. The Dragonborn said it was High Hrothgar, and when they went inside, they were apparently the first to get there. Not a surprise to anyone, of course.
“Dragonborn.” An old man in loose, dark robes approached, and Azhani could tell why they were called Greybeards. “Is there something we can do for you?”
“There sure is, Arngeir.” Bjorn set down the bag of supplies by the door. “I would have stopped by earlier, but that would have just taken way too long. Basically, I told a bunch of people there would be a meeting here to discuss a way to end the civil war. You guys are cool with that, right?”
“Why would you tell them that? We don’t get involved with Skyrim’s politics.”
“Exactly.” Bjorn pointed at Arngeir with both hands. “That’s why this is the perfect place for it. You guys don’t care, you don’t even have to do anything. We just need a big table, and I know there’s one right in there.” He pointed at a door behind Arngeir, who just sighed.
“Fine. But I have to be there to keep the peace.”
“Of course.”
Arngeir turned to Serana and looked her up and down. “What did you bring the vampire for?”
“Show him.” Bjorn nodded at Serana, who took the Scroll off her back and unwrapped it. Arngeir grabbed it and rolled it around in his hands.
“I don’t suppose there is any way at all to convince you not to do what you’re planning?”
“There is not.”
“Then at least listen to my advice, Dragonborn.” He handed the Scroll over to Bjorn. “Alduin is the World-Eater. I told you this already. What you plan to do was done once before, and it only delayed him. He is an unstoppable force. When it is time for him to end this world, it will end, and a new one will be born in its place. Do not use this Scroll lightly. What you do with it may just postpone the doom again, not stop it. And if you do stop it, it may be worse than if you hadn’t.”
“As long as I have anything to say about it,” Bjorn said, tucking the Scroll under one arm. “This won’t be the end.”
Arngeir shrugged and walked away. The Dragonborn turned to his two followers.
“Well then. We should have a few hours before anyone else gets here. There are some spare beds this way.” He pointed with his thumb and took off in that direction, so Azhani and Serana followed along. There were a few identical bedrooms all along one hall in the monastery, and every so often there would be a monk kneeling under a window as well. They stopped when they came to the end of the hall, and Bjorn pointed at two doors. “These should be empty. You take this-“ he gave Serana the Elder Scroll again. “-and I’ll go back outside and wait for everyone else.”
Azhani went into one room and closed the door behind her as Bjorn walked away. It was a small room, and everything in it was dark. There was a sizeable window, sure, but the walls were the black stone the rest of the monastery was made of, the floor was made of the same thing, and what little furniture there was was either carved from stone as well or was made of dark wood. There was a simple bed stuffed in one corner, with a few pelts over it but nothing particularly noteworthy.
At the very least, to Azhani’s satisfaction, the room was properly-stocked. Which, essentially, meant that when she bent down and searched under the bed she found what she was looking for and was able to make use of it. And this time, her belt was loose enough to not be a problem.
That taken care of, Azhani then kicked off her boots and crawled under the furs on the bed to get some degree of rest. It helped that it was much warmer than she’d expected of a bed in a monastery. Comfortable enough that she was almost drifting off to sleep…
At least, she was until she heard some commotion going on outside. She couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, but it sounded like yelling. Serana seemed to have heard it, too, since by the time Azhani got out of bed, worked her way into her boots again, and looked out the door, Serana was already halfway down the hall and headed for the main door. Azhani followed along quietly, and when the two got outside, they saw that practically every delegation had arrived. Everyone was watching an argument between the Dragonborn and some Altmer lady. They were being backed up by someone who must have been a Jarl, judging by his fur coat, and an old man in Imperial armor, respectively.
“I have every right to be at this negotiation,” the Altmer said, far too calmly for someone being accosted by the Dragonborn. “I need to ensure that nothing is agreed to here that violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat.”
“She's part of the Imperial delegation.” The Imperial tried to defend her. “You can't dictate who I bring to this council.”
“Do you really think that we would sit down with that... Thalmor bitch?” The Jarl spoke directly to the Imperial soldier. “Either she walks, or I do.”
“We’re not going to let you dictate terms to us before the negotiations even start, Ulfric.” The Imperial folded his arms and glared at the Jarl.
There was a deep, low rumbling as the Dragonborn spoke. “That’s enough!” He looked back and forth at each of the men. “Both of you. Shut the fuck up.” He turned to the Altmer. “As for you... You have a lot of nerve showing up here. This is an insult. A mockery of everything we’re trying to do here. Get the fuck out of here. You don’t belong here.”
“She’s staying wit-“ the Imperial tried to say something.
“Quiet, Tullius!” The Dragonborn pointed at him and got in his face. “You knew what you were doing when you brought her here. How dare you? We are not negotiating with the Dominion!” He turned back to the Altmer. “You’re leaving. Now.”
“No, I am not.” The Altmer crossed her arms. “The Empire agreed to the Concordat. Skyrim is part of the Empire. I cannot allow this negotiation to end with a violation of the Concordat.”
“The Thalmor doesn’t rule in the Empire. This is an internal Skyrim matter.” Bjorn spoke in a low, harsh voice, almost like a growl. “Your government needs to learn its place, black-cloak bitch. You have no power here. You have no business here.”
“I must-“
“What you must do is leave!” Bjorn pointed past her, down the mountain. “This is not your concern. You have no voice here. You were not invited here. You have no right to be here. You’re not going to sit around and report back to your superiors in their glass towers about what Skyrim is doing.”
“You’re going to regret this.” The Altmer tried to sound threatening.
“No, you’re going to regret it, Elenwen.” Bjorn stood up as tall as he could make himself and stretched out his arms. “Do you know who you’re dealing with?” He was shouting. “I am the Dragonborn! You’re making a very powerful enemy! Leave now, or when I’m done here I will go to your Embassy and slaughter every last Thalmor agent in it, starting with you!”
“Fine. But they will hear of this in Summerset.” Elenwen turned around to leave.
“Good! Tell them their time is up. Tell them the dragons are back, and they’ll be coming for Alinor.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No.” The Dragonborn said. “If you want to see a threat, I’ll gladly help you find your way down the mountain the fast way.”
Elenwen gave a contemptuous snort as she turned around and left without saying another word.
Bjorn turned to the Imperial delegation. “Watch yourself, Tullius. This is not a game. You try something like that again, I won’t give you the choice of taking the long route, you understand?” Then he turned around, took a deep breath, and addressed everyone. “Camp out here if you like. Meeting starts tomorrow morning.”
If all goes well, there should only be two chapters left in Season Unending, then we're going back to our regularly-scheduled programming of omo nonsense in Riften.
Edited March 6, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
This one took longer than expected, but here it is. The next chapter should be the last part of Season Unending, then we get back to our regular nonsense for a while. I already have plans for four more story-based super-chapters like this one, and I'm sure we'll all have a lot of fun with them.
That said, though, the next piece of content I put out will be another Dark Souls one-off (with what I hope ends up being an interesting perspective and not a total flop), so I actually have a valid reason for the next chapter of B&B taking a while now.
“Is this everyone?” The Dragonborn was standing with his hands on the large, round table, just in front of an ornate stone chair with furs draped over it. It was late morning, and people were slowly filing into the room, including a Greybeard or two. Azhani was already seated just to Bjorn’s right, and to her right there was Serana. They were wearing matching outfits, since the only clean clothes that fit either of them were gray – though, at the very least, Azhani had dug up a proper belt. The Dragonborn himself was dressed in long black robes lined with fur, including a large collar wider than his head. Perhaps a little excessively formal, considering several other attendees were wearing armor.
Azhani yawned while everyone else found a seat. She’d only woken up an hour beforehand, and wasn’t looking forward to sitting around all day listening to people argue about nothing. Unfortunately, Bjorn took his seat once everyone else had settled down, then waved a hand in the general direction of the Imperial delegation.
“Our terms are simple.” Tullius stood up as he started to speak. “Riften must be returned to Imperial control. That’s our price for agreeing to a truce.”
He sat down again, and Ulfric’s lieutenant – who apparently refused to stop wearing his bear-hat – immediately launched an assault on the General. “By Talos, the stones on this one!” He took a moment to laugh and went on. “You’re in no position to dictate terms to us, Tullius!”
The Jarl of Windhelm leaned forward and nodded. “That’s quite an opening demand, Tullius.”
“Ulfric, you can’t be taking this demand seriously?” His lieutenant turned to face him. “We can hold Riften against anything the Empire can throw at it. Besides, Jarl Laila will never agree to-“
“Galmar.” Ulfric held up a hand. “We will do whatever I decide is in the best interests of Skyrim. Are we clear?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Azhani bent over and rested her head on the table as Ulfric turned back to look at the Imperials. “Come on, Tullius,” he said. “You can’t seriously expect us to just hand over Riften at the negotiating table.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “You haven’t been able to take it back yet. Why should we give it up now?”
“Because,” Tullius started, holding up a finger. “Because… the Empire will offer you-“
“Stop!” An old man at the far side of the table slammed his fist and stood up. “Are you so blind to our danger that you can’t see past your petty disagreements? Here you sit arguing about… nothing!” Azhani had to agree with him there. Currently, her tail was swaying around idly so she could pretend she had something to do. “While the fate of the land hangs in the balance!”
“Is he with you, Delphine?” Ulfric turned to address the woman sitting next to the old man. “If so, I advise you to tell him to watch his tongue.”
“He is with me,” she answered. “And I advise you both-“ Delphine pointed at Ulfric, then at Tullius. “-to listen to what he has to say, before you do anything rash.”
The old man waved his hands around like a preacher. “Don’t you understand the danger? Don’t you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The Wo-“
“Alright, wait, hold on right there.” Bjorn stood and held up a hand, and Azhani straightened out and rubbed her eyes. “You talk about understanding danger, Esbern, but it’s clear you don’t know what this is really about. I doubt anyone here really does.”
“What are you talking about? Alduin will kill us all if we sit around here doing nothing.”
The Dragonborn leaned slightly forward. “Yeah, no, see, that’s what I’m talking about.” He folded his hands together and pointed across the table. “Alduin seems like a threat now, but very soon I’ll have the tools I need to defeat him. I even came up with a great plan to get to wherever in Oblivion he’s hiding out.” He looked over at Balgruuf for a moment then continued. “Ultimately, the whole dragon… thing… It’s not an issue, really. A divided Skyrim can still fight back against the dragons. A broken Empire can fight off the dragons for as long as they need to. There’s one enemy – the real enemy – that we can only fight together.” Bjorn shook his head. “I’m not going to deal with any of your bullshit political games. Nobody’s going to give up any land, because this war isn’t going to start up again once we’re done here. You’re not here to come up with your own terms for peace, you’re here so I can slap some sense into you until you agree to my terms.”
Ulfric leaned forward in his seat. “And those terms would be…”
“Well,” Bjorn started, “First of all, Skyrim will become an independent nation.” He carried on through the complaints from the Imperial camp. “The Empire will recall all Legions back to Cyrodiil and all Imperial diplomatic missions in Skyrim – including the Thalmor Embassy, since their agreement is with the Empire – will be shut down.”
Tullius stood up immediately once the Dragonborn finished speaking. “Grant Skyrim independence? What, so that this lout can become High King?” He gave a dismissive wave towards Ulfric, whose response was calm.
“It would be up to the Jarls to elect a High King.”
“Even so,” Tullius said, “The Empire isn’t going to give independence to Skyrim for as long as he is a Jarl.”
Bjorn pointed at Tullius. “What did I tell you about games, Tullius? Enough with your politics. Ulfric will stay Jarl, unless he gives up the office on his own.” He crossed his arms. “Anyways, the second term is that, when the real war begins, Skyrim, no matter who the High King becomes, will fight alongside the Empire.”
Galmar muttered something to Ulfric, who turned to address the Dragonborn. “What’s the point of independence, then, if we still have to die for the Empire?”
“Because, Ulfric,” the Dragonborn said, “You won’t be fighting for the Empire. You’ll be fighting for Tamriel. Independent or not, Skyrim’s going to be part of the war to come regardless of what you want. The real enemy is too big of a threat, to everyone, for us to pretend any one country can take them on alone. We’re all going to be fighting for our own freedom, and if we lose because we were too blind and stubborn to fight together, there won’t be a Skyrim anymore. There won’t be a Cyrodiil. There won’t be anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Tullius had a look on his face that made him seem like he didn’t even know where he was.
Bjorn shook his head. “You, of all people, Tullius, I would have expected to understand. You were there, thirty years ago. You fought them then. You know how dangerous the Dominion is.”
“What?” The General seemed taken aback. “I do understand the threat from the Dominion. That’s why I’m fighting this rebellion, so we can get the Empire back together as soon as possible, and stop wasting men on a fight with ourselves when we should be trying to protect ourselves.” He slammed a fist on the table, and the sound it made reminded Azhani that the tabletop was made of stone and uncovered. “But giving up Skyrim entirely? Are you mad? Skyrim is a military asset, how is the Empire meant to defend itself with just Cyrodiil and High Rock?”
The Dragonborn shrugged. “Well, that’s why part of the agreement is that an independent Skyrim would contribute forces to the war to come. Skyrim has been one of the most important provinces in the entire Empire, I get that. But if we’re going to wage a proper war on the Dominion, we can’t have internal divisions getting in the way of it.”
The conversation went on like this for some time, with Bjorn trying to convince Tullius that an independent Skyrim would be more of an asset than a subjugated one. Or, at least, that was what Azhani had gathered that the conversation was about. She wasn’t really listening, and her head was on the table again. Just to make things worse, her chair was cold stone, her back was hurting just from sitting down like that for so long, and she was starting to feel a familiar discomfort. She tried to listen in on the conversation as a distraction.
“… we’re going to have to take the fight to them,” the Dragonborn was saying in a grave tone. “If we sit around and wait for them to attack us, we’re going to have another sack of the Imperial City. Now, I was born just before the war started, so I have no idea what life was like back then, but even I know that’s not something we want to have happen again.”
“How do you suggest we fight them, Ironside?” Ulfric was leaning back as far as his chair would allow, one hand on his chin. “We don’t have the manpower. We lost the last war.”
“Correction,” Bjorn said. “The Empire surrendered in a war they were winning. All we ha-“
“Wait, wait, wait, did you just say we were winning the Great War?” Tullius butted in. “What nonsense is that?”
“Yeah,” Bjorn said with a shrug, ignoring the General’s rudeness. “Like I said, I was barely a child then, but if my understanding is correct, Hammerfell fought what was left of the Dominion to a stalemate after we left the War, and that was just one province. If Titus weren’t such an idiot, he could have fought back and won.”
“What, so this is all the Emperor’s fault? Are you a damn Stormcloak? Emperor Titus acted in the best interests of his men – those Legions were shattered and exhausted, they wouldn’t have stood up in a fight anymore.”
“Yeah, but we had more than just the Legions, didn’t we? Hammerfell, again.” Bjorn took a seat and tented his hands. “High Rock. Skyrim. They all had fresh meat. After Red Ring - again, accounting for the fact that this is all just from books - pretty much the entire Dominion force was destroyed, right? Hammerfell fought against what little was left over, and if we sent in the Nords or the Bretons against that, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.” The Dragonborn leaned forward and set his elbows on the table. “Titus was blind, and he threw away his Empire. Hammerfell left because of the surrender and then immediately proved the Concordat was idiotic, and now Skyrim is lost for the same damn reason.”
“So, wait, what good are we supposed to be able to do against the Dominion?” To the surprise of most of the room, it was Ulfric’s voice ringing out with the question. “This Empire would be the same one it was at the end of the War – that Empire can’t beat the Thalmor.”
Bjorn nodded quietly, then said, “Mm, yeah, that’s the hard part. To destroy the Aldmeri Dominion, we need to bring Tamriel back together. I reckon we need, at the very least, Hammerfell and Elsweyr.”
“How do you propose we get… either of those? Hammerfell isn’t going to cooperate with the Empire anymore, and Elsweyr is Dominion-controlled.” Tullius spoke up and voices on both sides of the table muttered in agreement.
“Well, I’m still working out a plan for Hammerfell, and I’m sure the leaders in the Empire could come up with one too, but, uh…” Bjorn nudged Azhani, who looked up at him. He spoke quietly to her, “You should say something; this is why I brought you here.”
“What? This one was only a child when she left, she doesn’t know anything about these politics.”
“No, but you left for a reason, right?” Azhani looked away from him as he spoke. “I’m not gonna make you tell me or anyone here what that was if you don’t want to, but surely you can come up with some reason the Khajiit would fight the Thalmor, right?”
Azhani looked around the room – practically everyone was looking in her direction. She shuffled around in her seat for a bit before shrugging and standing up. Her heart was racing, and her bladder was starting to feel heavy, but she worked out a little speech anyways.
“Anequina and Pellitine,” she started, “w-will fight for the Empire, i-i-if they’re liberated. Maybe. The Dominion…” Azhani took a deep breath and subtly pressed her legs together. “The Dominion is… the Thalmor… the Thalmor are cruel to the people there. People d-disappear, a-a-and if they come back they’re different.” She started speaking faster and pulled the little cape she was wearing around her as much as she could. “Nobody there likes the Dominion, but nobody fights back because they’re scared of them. The Thalmor hide behind the few people that worship them for bringing the Moons back, and everyone else has heard rumors of what happened to thi- to people who rebel…”
Bjorn put a hand on her shoulder, and she sat back down as he finished for her. “The Khajiit are practically waiting for a foreign force to come in and show them that they can throw the Dominion out. They’ve been loyal subjects to the Thalmor for a century, and there are only so many times they can be told ‘but we ended the Void Nights’ before people start to see what’s really going on. If not to be rid of the Dominion, we have to at least liberate the Khajiit and the Wood Elves from this tyranny they’re living under. They were part of us once, for longer than most of our ancestors can remember, and more than that, we can’t let living people be treated worse than animals.”
“So, basically, you’re suggesting that we go to war with a vastly superior force because of some silly sense of righteousness that means we have to save these people?” The armored lady accompanying Tullius, who Azhani heard be called Rikke, spoke up this time. “I mean, I’m all for helping people out, but is it worth all the resources and men we’ll have to throw at them?”
“They’ll make it worth it if you rescue them,” Azhani said quietly, shifting around a little bit.
Rikke crossed her arms. “That’s… hardly a reason.”
“Oh, come on, Rikke.” Bjorn waved a hand at her. “If the Dominion invaded Skyrim right now, I guarantee you the Stormcloaks and the Imperials would drop everything to fight them. If the occupied lands are as bad as… well, we’ve all heard the rumors, and we’ve got a first-hand account right here.” He gestured to his right, and the Khajiit tried to shrink into her own clothes. “If they’re that bad, we just have to show up and they’ll immediately turn around and take down the Thalmor.”
Rikke shrugged, and for a little while nobody said anything, so Bjorn spoke again.
“So, is that it? We can all agree on an end to the war now? All hostilities cease as soon as the soldiers get word, Skyrim becomes independent, the Jarls will convene and elect a High King as soon as we give them the news, the High King will answer a call-to-arms when it’s time to fight the Dominion, the Thalmor will be evicted from their embassy in Haafingar and anywhere else they’re hanging around, and the Legions will go back home.” The Dragonborn crossed his arms and sighed. “I’m not forgetting anything, am I?”
“Well, there’s one thing, but it’s not all that important.” Tullius spoke up. “You know of Vittoria Vici? Emperor’s cousin? Her wedding was meant to be in Solitude, and the Emperor himself was supposed to show up. It’s been planned for months.”
“Bah, just treat the Emperor like a foreign diplomat and it’ll go fine.” Bjorn gave a dismissive wave. “Throw in some armed guards and make sure they aren’t just going to let some idiot into the kitchens, just because the dude’s wearing an apron and says he’s the Gourmet or Saint Vehk reincarnated or whatever. Typical foreign dignitary stuff, y’know how it goes.”
Tullius shrugged, and everyone except the Dragonborn and his friends stood up to leave. Bjorn quickly called out to Balgruuf before the Jarl left and asked for Lydia to be sent to Riften, and then he rubbed the sides of his head and sighed.
“By the fucking Nine,” he said. “I just did that, didn’t I? Fuck, I need a beer. Or three. Or ten. And some food. You hungry, Azzy?” He looked over at Azhani, who nodded enthusiastically. She’d only had a little bit of breakfast and had just gotten done sitting around doing nothing for several hours. Of course, she’d be hungry. Well, and there was that other problem, but that wasn’t quite as important as she’d expected it to be. Still, she did feel the need to shuffle around a little bit every now and then.
Bjorn stretched and headed for some other part of the temple. “Alright, you stay here, I’ll be back with food.”
Once the Dragonborn left, Azhani and Serana were left sitting at the table, together alone in the room aside from the occasional Greybeard passing through.
“So,” Serana started after several awkwardly-silent minutes. “You okay?”
Azhani raised an eyebrow and shifted around again. “Fine. Why?”
“Oh, nothing.” Serana shrugged. “It just seemed like, with the things you were saying about, uh…”
“It is the past,” Azhani said. “No more talking about it. Not with you, anyways.”
Serana nodded. “Fair enough.” After another quiet minute, she spoke again. “What about the future? Now that the war is over, what are you going to do?”
Azhani shook her head. “Don’t know. Can’t do much without money. Riften is always an option, though. Might just stay there.”
“Eh, well, a simple life is always a fine idea. And, hey, I imagine it’d be more stable than you’re used to, right?”
“Past,” Azhani said, glaring over at Serana.
“Right, right, sorry.”
Thus, the two sat in silence for several more minutes, before the Dragonborn returned carrying a tray loaded with meat, cheese, and a large jug of beer. As loaded as one would expect from monastery provisions, at least.
Azhani immediately dug into a piece of meat, while the Dragonborn served himself a generously-portioned drink. He downed a quarter of what he had straightaway, then spoke between additional sips. “So, the plan now is… Tomorrow, we go up to the top of the mountain… I use the Scroll, learn what I need to learn… Then, we get back down the mountain, Serana finds her way home… We go back to Riften and rest for a few days, then I get over to Whiterun and end this whole dragon thing.” His mug was empty by the time he’d finished speaking, so he refilled it and grabbed himself some food.
“What will you do after that?” Azhani found time to ask a question after finding a moment where she wasn’t either eating or drinking in between rounds of eating.
“I dunno.” Bjorn shrugged. “Go home, maybe. Help prepare for the war with the Dominion. I’ve only been away a few months, but it already feels like it’s been ages.”
“So you’re… you’re actually going to do it? Fight the Thalmor?” Azhani looked over at the Dragonborn, took a sip of beer, and shuffled around.
He nodded in response. “Well, I’d hope it’s not necessary, but it’ll come to it one way or another.”
“Well, when you go to Anequina, could you, eh…” Azhani twitched her ears and looked down at her drink, saying nothing more.
“You want to come with me?”
Azhani nodded and took another drink to avoid saying anything. She got the feeling that it would have been a better idea to eat something instead, considering that need of hers had escalated quite a bit recently.
The Dragonborn chuckled. “Ah, well, learn to fight and we’ve got a deal.”
“You could teach, no?”
“Yeah, yeah I could.” Bjorn raised his mug. “Once we get back to Riften, we’ll see what we can do, eh?”
Azhani gave a little smile and flicked her tail, then got to work on the cheese that had been brought out. For the first time since leaving Riften, she even engaged in pointless smalltalk with the Dragonborn – and Serana, though she didn’t particularly want to have a conversation with her just then – and over the next hour she was able to put more thought into what would come next for her.
She’d already thought about it on the way over, of course, but now the war really was over. That was a real thing, and frankly Azhani couldn’t quite believe it. She’d sat through the whole debate about it, but it still seemed too good to be true. For once, at least for a little while, she didn’t have to keep packing up to move from one war-torn city to another every couple of weeks. Though, come to think of it, she had spent quite a long time in Riften. She could see living there for much longer, even if Keerava was… eccentric. And that reminded her of that slight problem – it had become quite important by now, and it’d need to be dealt with soon. Right after this beer, she told herself.
Of course, she just ended up pouring herself another once the one she was holding ran out, and her thoughts moved to the planned invasion. She knew her home wouldn’t be anywhere close to what it was when she left. She wasn’t even sure if anyone she had known would still be there. Her sister would be floating around somewhere or other, if she’d survived so far, but beyond that… what was there for her in Anequina? Perhaps that was why she wanted to go back, to confirm beyond any doubt that it was no place for her anymore. To confirm that she was right to leave when she did. There was a part of her that wanted to find a reason to stay, too – a reason to doubt everything she’d believed for twenty-two years. It would be a much better world if none of that were true, after all. But then, if it weren’t true, what reason did she have for fleeing to Cyrodiil?
That was the sort of question that kept up her pattern of telling herself “just one more” until, with the Dragonborn’s help, the beer had run out. Fine timing, too, considering she couldn’t ignore what her body had been telling her for the past several hours anymore. And considering what she’d been doing for two of those hours…
Azhani stood up and stretched, the weight of her bladder now making itself fully-known. She had to bend over for a second to maintain control.
“Going to bed now,” she said, not waiting for a response before leaving the room and heading off towards what was, for now, her room.
When she got inside, she managed to surprise herself by first checking the little window to see the time – still before sunset, but not all that long. Apparently relief wasn’t a top priority, even though her need had gotten far worse just by walking into the room. She did almost immediately turn around and head for her bed, though, once she had confirmed that there was still daylight out. She bent down and reached under the bed, finding nothing.
‘What? It was here this morning…’ She stood up and looked around the room, one leg bouncing. She figured Bjorn might have tried to pull some trick, but he never had any time to get into the room while she wasn’t there. Odds were, some Greybeard came in to clean things up and forgot to put things back.
How very convenient for Azhani. She had to question why stuff like this kept happening to her. Sure, it was normal for her to be in situations like this, but not all the time. At the very least, normally there’d be some dark alley she’d be able to hide in, and that would solve everything because literally everyone does that at some point.
What made things worse was that she really didn’t have any options – she could go to another room, but there was no guarantee that any of them would be vacant, and if her room was missing a pot, odds were good the others were too. She couldn’t exactly go outside; it was quite the small space, and there were people everywhere. Plus, it was a mountain so there was no cover, unless she went downhill and found somewhere, but she was certain she wouldn’t be able to wait long enough for that.
She lashed her tail in frustration. The gods really didn’t like her, did they? Especially considering there was now someone knocking on her door. Couldn’t even let her piss her pants in private, could they? Either way, she kicked off her shoes and jumped into bed, and then reluctantly answered, “Come in?”
It was the Dragonborn who entered, closing the door behind him and pulling over a chair for himself. The last thing Azhani needed right now.
“So, uh, that stuff you said about the Thalmor…” He rubbed the back of his head.
Azhani grunted, rolled over onto her side and stuffed her tail between her legs as she felt a warm spot appear. “Not a good time.”
“Oh, it won’t take long, I just have a question or two.” Bjorn leaned forward, resting an elbow on one knee.
Azhani responded with a groan and rolled over onto her other side to face the Dragonborn. “You’re not going to leave until you get an answer, are you?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Fine,” Azhani said with a sigh. “What is it?”
“So.” Bjorn folded his hands. “How much do you know about what the Thalmor are doing?”
Azhani knotted her legs as the warm spot grew. “Nothing. People vanish, what happens then, only they know. Sometimes they come back, always as Thalmor.”
“They have Khajiit Thalmor?”
“Rarely.” Azhani grabbed her tail and pulled it farther up between her legs. “Mostly elf, Khajiit only if they need to. For… propaganda, things like that. We’re not technically part of the Dominion, but still they take our own people and send them back to make us wish we were.”
“They haven’t… openly, uh, done… anything, have they? I heard what they did in Valenwood…”
Azhani shook her head vehemently. “No, always secrets, always just… disappearing. Is… is that all?” This wasn’t exactly the best of topics for her to discuss on a good day, and this was surely not a good day.
“Yeah, yeah, I just…” Bjorn looked around the room for a moment, then stood and walked to the door. “I just needed to know what kind of people we’re dealing with. Thanks.” Then he left.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Azhani rolled over onto her back and groaned again. She had things under control for now, but something would have to be done. She did have one idea that hadn’t been totally ruled out for being utterly insane. It still wasn’t the best idea, but it was all she had.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her rear off the bed and slid out of her lower clothes, throwing them to the floor. She did the same to her shirt, then rolled over onto her front and held herself up on her forearms. The blankets weren’t quite covering her, and her chest was clearly exposed, but that didn’t matter right now – not like anyone could see anything through all the fur anyways. With her front half lifted up above the bed, she positioned herself so she was sitting on her knees, then spread her legs apart so her rear half was as low down as possible. She picked up her tail and wrapped it around one leg, then sighed as she let go.
There was a faint pattering sound as her stream immediately hit the bed’s material and absorbed into it, but, being a monastery, the beds at High Hrothgar weren’t terribly high-quality. It took almost no time at all for the sounds to turn to the splashing of a puddle being made. Not that Azhani really cared, even if the puddle very quickly started to reach her feet. No, all she did was relax and slide down even further so that she ended up lying directly in it rather than avoiding it. As a bonus, she was able to press her face into the pillow to muffle any sounds she might make – and there were plenty of those.
It took a minute for her to finish this time, at which point Azhani simply continued to lie around in her puddle for a while, not fully realizing where she was or what had just happened. When she did become aware again, she immediately moved the blankets out of the way and rolled over to her front to expect the damages. The fur on her belly was soaked, and there was a large pool of urine on the bed that wouldn’t be absorbed into anything any time soon. She sighed again, and gingerly worked her way out of bed, wiping herself off with the blankets as well as she could on the way.
As she bent down to retrieve her clothes, she noticed something.
A Greybeard had dropped off her chamberpot in the meantime, and no doubt saw what was going on.
Azhani covered her face with both hands and screamed internally.
‘At the very least,’ she thought, ’please let him think it was something else. By Azurah…’
Edited March 24, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
So there are a few problems with this update, from my point of view. One, it's extremely late. Two, it's too short for how late it is. Three, there's no omo in it. Like, none at all. It's purely a fight scene and plot development. If you don't care about that at all, then go read Blackflame or A Cold and Lonely Painted World in the meantime. Next update isn't going to take anywhere near this long, and this only took as long as it did because of all the (frankly, unnecessary) translation into Dragon and because I'm trash at fight choreography. In any case, this is the last part of Season Unending, which means the next update returns the story to the normal schedule of essentially a constant stream (pun intended) of lewds with barely any plot. For the next few updates, there will be no brakes on the lewd train. I promise.
When morning came the day after the war summit, High Hrothgar was quiet. The dignitaries from the day before had already started making their way home, and the only sound within the monastery itself was that of a body covered in plate armor walking the halls. Of course, there was another set of feet moving behind him, but through either great skill or unnatural ability, they were inaudible even on the Greybeard’s polished stone floors. The two came to one particular room in the residential wing of the monastery, and on entering found a small black Khajiit on the bed, pressed against the wall and lying on top of the sheets as if to take up as little space as possible.
Still half-asleep, she gave a slurred protest upon being prodded by the Dragonborn: “Nnnnn- Ten more minutes? There’s nothing to do today.” Then she curled up tighter.
Bjorn stared blankly at her for a moment, looked over at Serana, then addressed Azhani again with a chuckle. “I don’t need to understand it to know what that meant. Come on, get up, we’ve gotta get the Scroll up to the top of the mountain, and I think you might like to meet… uh… the leader of the Greybeards.”
Azhani rolled over to look at the source of the disturbance with half-opened eyes. “Isn’t that Arngeir?”
“See?” Bjorn just pointed at her. “Now you’re interested. Get yourself ready and meet us out back.”
The Dragonborn turned and left without another word, leaving one barely-awake, half-naked Azhani lying in bed trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. On the other hand, why was this even a problem? By the looks of it, it was late morning already – Azhani would normally have been awake hours ago, unless something had kept her awake far too long the night before. Sure, the previous night wasn’t exactly the best – a quick prod determined that the bed was still cold and, somehow, still slightly damp – but that wasn’t enough to keep her sleeping for hours longer than usual.
Then again, she did spend the last month in the same inn doing the same work day in and day out. She took a moment to consider that while she ran through her daily routine – staying in one place for more than a week was highly unusual for her, especially since she tended to get herself into trouble if she stuck around for more than a week. But then, considering the events of the past month, she still technically was getting herself into trouble, just a different kind of trouble and a lot more of it. She couldn’t help but think, again, that there was some god somewhere planning everything just to mess with her. A ridiculous notion, to be sure – perhaps only Sheggorath could be responsible, and Azhani had done nothing to anger him recently – but an entertaining thought nonetheless. It was an explanation, if nothing else.
In any event, staying in one place for so long had made Azhani lazy. The trip to High Hrothgar had been a well-needed change of pace, and if the goal now was to go to the very top, it would be that much better. What are the odds that she’d ever get another opportunity like this?
It took a little under an hour for Azhani to appear in the monastery’s rear courtyard. She’d been sidetracked by the food someone had left out in the open, and then she had to return to her room to make sure there wouldn’t be any problems. She was already wearing borrowed clothes, no need to make it any worse.
The Dragonborn gave her a curt nod as a greeting, then set off immediately, Serana at his heels, leaving Azhani to run after them to keep up. From her position at the back of the group, Azhani couldn’t help but notice that everyone was travelling very light – Bjorn had only what pouches he could fit around his belt, plus his sword and a dagger, and Serana was carrying only the Elder Scroll, now not bothering to wear the cloak she had brought it up the mountain with.
No doubt it would be a short climb, and a quiet one too; Bjorn had started telling a story about how this particular path used to be shrouded in magical clouds that he had to Shout away, so there wouldn’t be anything to disturb them. “Quite a good thing for us,” he’d said. “Means we can just get up there, I read the Scroll, then we go home.”
“About time for something to be simple for you,” Serana had joked in response. “I’ve only known you for a few months and you never seem to be able to go more than two seconds without getting into a fight.”
“I know, it’s getting annoying. I just want one thing to happen the way it’s supposed to. Is that so much to ask for?”
Sure enough, things really were going the Dragonborn’s way. Nothing had attacked any of the group on the entire trip to the peak, the Scroll hadn’t been carried off by some bird of prey for no reason, it didn’t spontaneously explode, nothing. Thus, when the land flattened out, Bjorn took the Scroll from Serana and held it up above his head, walking towards a strange-looking wall a short distance ahead of them.
“Paarthurnax?” He looked around and called out. “Het nii, ol laanaan.” The Dragonborn looked around some more, and just as he was turning to walk back to Serana and Azhani, there was a distant roar. Then the mountain started to shake, and a dark shape appeared overhead, spiraling in until there was a massive, battered dragon close enough to the ground that the beating of his wings was enough to knock Azhani over – not that she minded, she’d much rather be safely on the floor if there was going to be a dragon to deal with. She didn’t get a good look at anyone else in the time it took her to fall down, but it seemed like neither the Dragonborn or Serana seemed to care that there was a dragon directly above.
She only got up again when the lack of wind indicated the dragon had settled down, and the lack of any other type of noise indicated nobody was currently trying to kill anyone else. Instead, the dragon was having a conversation with Bjorn.
“Lost nii. Fin Kel. Tiid kreh... qalos,” it said, “Kos nid motmahus morah. Hi kos daanshaan. Kogaan Akatosh. Qethsegolle kos ahst him uth. Amativ.” The dragon lifted a wing as if to point in one direction, apparently towards nothing at all – though, looking a little closer it did seem like the air was a bit distorted. “Krongah qostiid. Drun fin Kel kotin fin Tiid-ahraan. Ni lingrah-tiid. Alduin fen meyz. Rok nis voskoraav fin grah meyz...” Now it was looking directly at Azhani, who was staring back at it, unsure of what to do and unable to bring herself to move at all. Thankfully, it turned back to the Dragonborn. “Wo kos fin Kaaz?”
“Huh?” Bjorn seemed to have been caught off-guard by the question and looked back and forth between Azhani and the dragon for a few seconds before answering. “Oh, rek kos, uh… aan fahdon, hey,” he said as he walked up to Azhani, put a hand on her shoulder, and pointed up at the dragon with his other arm. “Azhani, that’s Paarthurnax, leader of the Greybeards.”
Azhani gave a nervous wave and squeaked out a quiet, “Hello,” which seemed to be enough to get both Paarthurnax and the Dragonborn to leave her alone. Indeed, Paarthurnax merely dipped his head at her as a greeting, then immediately returned to his conversation with Bjorn.
“Dovahkiin,” he said with what seemed to be a hint of impatience.
“Geh, geh, amativ.” Bjorn gave a dismissive hand wave as he walked with the Scroll over to the ripple Paarthurnax had indicated earlier. He got himself into a fighting stance, putting the Scroll in front of his face with one hand poised to open it. “Here we go,” he said, pulling on the tab on the bottom of the Elder Scroll. There was a flash of light from the Scroll – blinding even under the midday sun – and in an instant the Scroll closed itself again and Bjorn had been brought to his knees, falling over onto his side where he remained motionless.
Azhani started towards him to do… something. She wasn’t sure what, just something, but before she could make any significant progress, Serana had stuck out an arm to stop her and Paarthurnax had turned to address them both.
“Do not touch him,” he warned. “He is through the Tiid-ahraan, the Time-Wound, in a vision. Move him and he may be forced out.”
“And that would mean what exactly?” Azhani relaxed only slightly and backed away from Serana’s arm.
Paarthurnax tilted his head. “I don’t know. The Kelle are unpredictable. It could do nothing, it could destroy his mind. Best to not find out.”
Azhani looked over at the Dragonborn – he was hardly even breathing, though perhaps that was just hard to see under all the armor. “When will the vision end?”
The distant call of a dragon rang out, and Paarthurnax’s head immediately sprung up to find the source of the sound. Serana had gotten herself into a combat stance as well, scanning the skies and maintaining little balls of frost in either hand. “Hopefully soon,” she said.
The calls only got louder as time went on, and the Dragonborn still did not respond. Not until the mountaintop went dark from the shadow of a massive dragon circling overhead did he wake up. He pushed himself off the ground and staggered about for a moment with a hand on his head. As soon as he could properly function, he took a quick look around, then looked up, and immediately pulled both his sword and dagger from his belt.
Evidently, the dragon overhead figured that was his opportunity to attack, so he dove until he was just barely above the ground, the wind from his wings nearly blowing all the snow off the mountain as he hovered there and accosted the Dragonborn.
“Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor, Dovahkiin,” he yelled. “Dir nu ahrk saraan dez ko Sovngarde!”
Bjorn just brought his dagger in front of him and widened his stance; Paarthurnax was the one to respond.
“Lost funt. Lingrah tiid, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Zaan Dragonrend, aal mindok!” Once he’d finished speaking, whatever he was saying – Azhani wished they would speak Cyrodiilic so she could follow along – he took off and immediately engaged Alduin.
The two dragons flew far above the peak of the mountain, locked in a vicious melee with each other the entire time, and the Dragonborn took the chance to run back to the rest of the group. Serana was throwing icicles up into the air, mostly at random, and Azhani had taken to sitting behind a rock where hopefully nothing would hurt her.
Bjorn looked up with arms out by his sides, trying to make sense of the serpentine mass overhead. He would flinch occasionally when the shockwave from one of the dragons’ thunderous Shouts hit him, but otherwise maintained focus. It took quite a while, but as soon as the dragons overhead separated enough to tell one from the other, he took a deep breath, and Shouted into the sky above:
“JOOR, ZAH FRUL.”
The full force of the Shout took a few seconds to reach its target, and when it did the residual power of it was enough to blast Paarthurnax away and stun him, though he regained control after a few seconds and was back to circling overhead, waiting for a good chance to attack.
The same could not be said for Alduin, who was covered in a blue aura and immediately crashed down to the mountaintop like a rock. “Fen naak him sil ko Sovngarde!” Alduin yelled and reared his head, unleashing a Shout as he came forward again: “Yol!” But nothing happened. He tried again, then a third time, and still nothing happened.
“Hah! I didn’t know it would do that!” The Dragonborn stepped forward, and when Alduin moved to bite at him, he unleashed a brief Shout – the single word he used was inaudible through the blast, but Alduin’s head was thrown back long enough for Bjorn to deliver a mighty strike with his left hand, driving the dagger into Alduin’s neck. When it was pulled out, it took several scales with it, but Bjorn had to retreat before he could take advantage of the opening – Serana had instead thrown some icicles in that general direction, a handful of which had hit the small spot of exposed flesh.
There was a cry of “-SHUUUUUUUUUUUL” from overhead as Alduin moved to attack again, only to be covered in flame. He looked up and tried in vain to Shout Paarthurnax out of the sky, but this only resulted in him having a sword plunged into his neck. The Dragonborn had to put a foot on Alduin to retrieve his sword, which now bore a healthy coating of black blood, and received a claw to his side as a bonus. When he stepped back, his armor looked as though it had been punched through, and yet the Dragonborn didn’t seem to notice.
Indeed, he just lashed out again with his sword, and with the help of a distraction from Paarthurnax, he drove his dagger into Alduin’s muzzle, ripping out yet more scales. Alduin tried to take a bite out of Bjorn in response but got a sword to the mouth instead.
Bjorn suddenly backed off just after that, and prepared a Shout:
“KRII LUN A-aaaugh!“ His Shout went off unfinished and into the air just above Alduin as the dragon spun around and hit the Dragonborn with his tail, causing him to fly back and crash into the wall Paarthurnax had been resting on just minutes before. The aura around Alduin faded, and he jumped into the air and prepared a Shout of his own.
“YOL T-“
“FUS-“
There was the sound of a great metallic explosion from above as Alduin came crashing back to the ground – his own Shout had amounted to little more than a puff of fire that was gone as soon as it had been summoned.
The Dragonborn had worked himself to his feet in the meantime, and with a deep breath he added his own Shout to the mix.
“JOOR ZAH FRUL!”
There was a spray of blood included with the Shout, but Bjorn didn’t seem to notice. Alduin seemed to writhe in pain as the aura returned, and even Paarthurnax recoiled from the effects of the Shout, though he was in an entirely different direction. Serana took the opportunity to send a few icicles into the exposed flesh on Alduin’s nose, and the Dragonborn delivered a blow to the opening on Alduin’s neck.
“Paarthurnax kos sahlo. Zu’u mul,” Alduin yelled as he lashed out at the Dragonborn with the claws on his wing-hands. Each strike pierced the plate like it was hardly there, and though Bjorn tried to maintain his stoic appearance, he had to turn aside and spit out blood before delivering a strike with his dagger. His stance faltered, and he stumbled backwards when the attack was done – Alduin took the opening and swatted at Bjorn again, creating a massive crack on the Dragonborn’s chestplate and forcing him even farther back. His reward for this initiative was an icicle to the eye and a blast of fire from above. He didn’t seem to care about either, though, and marched back into range of the Dragonborn. “Mar saraan ko Sovngarde,” he said, leaving his jaw open as he lunged forward for a bite.
Bjorn rolled out of the way as well as he could and Shouted in retaliation.
“Fus… ro daahhh.” Though his voice was soft, Alduin was still forced aside, and the Dragonborn himself was knocked back as well, leaving several bits of armor behind as he was forcibly rolled away.
And yet he still stood up – his feet couldn’t seem to find a place to stay, and his breathing had become labored, but still he was standing.
Alduin simply looked at this, then at Paarthurnax and Serana, and as the aura faded again, he yelled out: “Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. Nuz zu'u kos Al-Du-In, Saraaniin se Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! Nis kos kriiaan het, naal hi uv naan joor! Hi nis viik zu'u.” He took off, and as he left he taunted the Dragonborn. “Fen saraan fah ul... joor!”
Paarthurnax flew off as well, and as soon as they were sure Alduin was gone, Serana and Azhani rushed to the Dragonborn’s side. He said nothing, and tried to limp over to Paarthurnax’s wall, though almost immediately had to resort to leaning on Serana.
He left a trail of blood as he walked, and when they reached the wall he practically collapsed against it, leaning back and looking blankly up at the sky. He slowly raised his left hand and brought it to his chest, at which point it was engulfed in a golden light. Then the Dragonborn closed his eyes, only opening them again when Paarthurnax returned and took his place atop the wall.
Azhani was the first to speak. “Are you going to be okay?”
The Dragonborn stared at her for a moment, then answered slowly and quietly. “Haaah. He forgot to kill me. He’s just made me angrier.” Blood dripped from his mouth as he spoke, and he raised up his right hand to wipe it away. “Hey, where did the bastard go anyways?” He looked up at Paarthurnax.
“I would not know. I followed him only as far as to know that he is gone from here,” the dragon responded. “One of his allies could tell us… Motmahus. It will not be easy to… convince one of them to betray him. Perhaps the hofkahsejun…”
“You mean Dragonsreach?” Bjorn coughed, sending more blood onto the snow. “I’ve already got everything sorted out to lure a dragon there and trap him. Turns out the Blades were right for once.” He tried to laugh but ended up coughing again instead. “I don’t suppose you have a particular name in mind?”
Azhani’s ears perked up. “Name? What would you need a name for?”
“Dragon names are Shouts,” Bjorn replied. “Paar-Thur-Nax, for example, is a Shout. Shout a name, and you call a dragon. It’s, eh, a challenge of sorts.”
“The dovve are prideful by nature, so many consider it to be shameful to refuse a challenge,” Paarthurnax added. “Especially from the Dovahkiin. And this particular Dov, he is… boziik. What is it? Like brave, but he does not think first.” He turned to Bjorn, who gave the translation as “reckless”, then continued. “He is reckless. Even among dovve, he was known for this. He would not refuse a call from anyone, much less Dovahkiin.”
“So what’s his name?”
“His name, Dovahkiin, is Od-Ah-Viing. Make the words your own: Od-Ah-Viing.”
The Dragonborn rolled his head back and closed his eyes, and after a moment leaned forward again. “Odahviing. Understood.” He shook his left hand to shut off the healing magic and raised an arm for Serana to pull him up by. “Everything is ready. We have the trap, we can get the dragon.”
“You’re not ready for anything in this state, tough guy,” Serana chided.
“Heh, you’re right. So not everything.” Bjorn turned to look at Azhani. “We’ve got to back to Riften anyways. Might as well stay there until I’m in fighting shape again. And Lydia should be there by the time we get back, or a little after… I don’t suppose we could get a dragon ride there?”
“I am needed here. I cannot be your personal transportation,” Paarthurnax said. He sounded annoyed, but Azhani couldn’t be totally sure since dragons seemed to always sound angry.
“Ah, it’s just a joke, lighten up. Getting down the mountain is going to suck, though…”
“Deal with it,” Serana told him, leading him back down towards the monastery.
Edited April 26, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
Only a little bit of omo in this chapter since this is basically just a transition back to normal - next one should be much more focused on literally the entire reason this story exists in the first place.
It took little over a week to return to Riften – twice as long as it took to get to High Hrothgar in the first place – though with no more need to move quickly, the slower pace and more-frequent stops wouldn’t cause any problems. The Dragonborn seemed to think so, at least, for he had explained as soon as he could speak properly that Alduin was unlikely to leave his hiding place for quite some time, if ever again.
“We got each other good anyways,” he’d said. “Neither of us are going to be going anywhere any time soon.”
Thus, Bjorn and Azhani had returned to the Bee and Barb without any sense of urgency, having left Serana and the Elder Scroll in Ivarstead at her own recommendation. The place was, as usual, quiet, though several chairs and tables were displaced and the stock behind the counter was far too low for an establishment frequented almost exclusively by a small handful of regulars, none of whom were there just then.
Instead, there was only Talen, aimlessly sweeping around, and Keerava with her head down on the bar, though she straightened up when the door opened and the Dragonborn walked in leaning into a staff.
“What in Oblivion happened to you?” she asked, grabbing several mugs and a bottle from under the counter. “You fall off the mountain or something?”
Bjorn gave a light laugh as he sat down and grabbed the drink that had been put in front of him. “Yeah, almost. No but seriously, Alduin was there. Scared him off, but broke a whole lot of bones in the process. Probably won’t even be able to Shout safely again for another week.”
“Damn, that’s rough.” Keerava had pulled out another bottle just for herself and was drinking from it while they spoke. “You’re still gonna recover enough to actually deal with him for good, though, right? We’re not all screwed for ever or anything, are we?”
“No, no, it’ll be fine.” He waved one hand dismissively and drank deep with the other before trying to speak again a little too soon. “Mmmh. Most annoying part is that all my armor is entirely destroyed. I’ve got bits of it that I can sell as scrap, but I’m still gonna have to get a new set tailored. I’ve got the money and all, but-“ Bjorn shook his head. “That is not cheap. I only got fitted for that set five years ago, and it was supposed to last at least thirty before it started to need major work done.”
Keerava leaned back as far as she could in a stool with no back, using her tail as support. “Somehow I don’t imagine these smiths account for dragon attacks when they figure how good their stuff is.”
“Apparently not.” Bjorn finished off the rest of the mug and filled it up again – Azhani, meanwhile, had barely gotten through half of her drink. “But, anyways, what’ve you been up to? You didn’t kill the joint or anything, did you? Looks emptier than normal in here.”
Keerava shot forward and stuck a finger in the Dragonborn’s face. “Hey, don’t you make fun of my shitty business tactics.” Leaning back again, she grabbed her bottle and continued drinking. “Ah, really though, you just missed New Life. All the free booze really puts me in the hole, but after everyone shakes off their hangover, business is a little better than normal for a few weeks. Pays for itself if they start buying Talen’s specialties.”
“Aw, I missed New Life? How’d I let that happen?”
“Don’t start complaining now.” Keerava waved her bottle at the Dragonborn. “You already drink free here year-round anyways.”
“Really? I thought you were running a tab.”
“Well, I was. Is it too late to say I still am?”
Bjorn just nodded and drank more.
“Damn.” Then Keerava turned to Azhani instead. “So, how’d that trip go for you? I don’t imagine that’s the sort of thing you do regularly.”
Azhani took a little sip, then leaned forward with one elbow on the bar. “One thing I learned,” she said, “is never to wear flat-foot shoes again.”
“You actually wore human shoes?” Talen had appeared at the far end of the bar, leaning against it with his broom hanging by his side. “How did that happen?”
“Well, you can’t exactly climb a mountain barefoot, can you?” Bjorn interjected, then looked over at Talen. “Well, maybe you can, with those scales everywhere, but I don’t figure that’d work out too great for a Khajiit.” He took a swig and continued. “And I’ve never actually seen her wear shoes, so I had to get her some – as it turns out, they don’t actually make anything for that kind of foot around here, so I just got her something. Better’n nothing.”
“And now I can go right back to nothing,” Azhani said with a flick of her tail. “It was, uh, an interesting experience, though.”
“Damn straight,” the Dragonborn said, lifting his mug, then turning to look down the bar. “Oh, uh, hey Talen, how’d that… thing… I gave you turn out?”
Talen tried to speak, but Keerava answered first. “Oh, right, how’d I forget about that?” She held out one hand over the bar and waved her fingers around, showing off an elegant ring fitted with three expertly-cut deep purple gems. “Almost murdered Talen when he showed this to me, ‘cause I thought he’d gone out and blown all our money on something so silly, but then he told me you gave him the stones for it.”
“I think the best part is that she still would have agreed if I’d just gone up to her empty-handed and asked,” Talen added, “but leading with a ring just makes it a lot less awkward. And the ring is tradition anyways.”
“Speaking of tradition…” Keerava was now leaning forward onto the bar with her arms folded. “I was actually waiting for you two to get back. Talen insists on a traditional ceremony, so we’ve got to go out to a Hist. Of course, I can’t just close down – ‘operating expenses’ are the same whether we’re open or not – so someone’s gonna have to watch over the place while we’re gone.”
“Ah, how convenient for you that I have nowhere to go for a couple of weeks,” Bjorn said, twirling his staff. “Where are you headed?”
“As far as I know there’s only one Hist tree in Skyrim,” Talen said, “and that might not actually be a Hist at all. I’m… kind of willing to overlook that, since we can’t spare the time or money right now to go to Black Marsh and back, just so we can get married, but it’s still going to be a while for us to get over to the middle of nowhere in Whiterun and then come home.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you know us.” Bjorn lightly prodded Azhani in the side with his elbow, prompting her to growl at him. “We’ll keep everything in working order for ya.”
“Great.” Keerava stood up and put a key she had pulled from her pocket onto the counter. “Here’s the key, I’ve got an order of mead coming in already. If you manage to drink all of it before we get back, find a Black-Briar and buy more. Don’t even look at any other meadery, Maven will have my ass if she finds out this place is serving anything but her booze.”
“Ah, too bad for her she’ll have to wait in line, eh?” Bjorn looked over at Talen with a stupid grin, and Talen tried to suppress a laugh while Keerava glared at the both of them. “Really though, it’s great that you two are actually doing this. Oh, and uh, if you don’t mind, could you take this along with you? I had it written up at the meeting, just show it to any Legion or Stormcloak guys you find.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment, which he handed to Keerava, who then opened it and read it aloud:
By authority of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Tamriel Titus II Mede
On this day the Twenty-First of Evening Star in the Two Hundred and First year of the Fourth Era of Tamriel
By the order of
General Tullius of the Forty-Second Legion, Military Governor of the Imperial Province of Skyrim
The Empire of Tamriel recognizes that
The High Kingdom of Skyrim
Has departed the Empire and is no longer an Imperial Province, and shall henceforth not be subject to the Laws of the Imperial Emperor
And therefore the War against the Rebellion led by Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm has ended
The Forty-Second Legion is hereby ordered to report to General Tullius in Solitude for reassignment, and any other Legion is to stand down and await further instruction from a superior officer
Citizenship in the Empire of Tamriel is hereby revoked from all residents of Skyrim not members of the Imperial Legion nor Citizens of the Imperial Province of Cyrodiil nor of the Imperial Province of High Rock
On behalf of His Imperial Majesty,
Tullius
“Wow. So that’s what you were doing.” Keerava folded the order and pocketed it. “How in Oblivion did you manage that?”
Bjorn shrugged. “In my experience, negotiations tend to go a little smoother when you’re literally twenty dragons.” He paused, and when nobody reacted to his joke he went on. “And, really, these people were stubborn. Ulfric was satisfied just with independence, but Tullius of course didn’t want to let Skyrim go just like that. So I made a deal there: whoever becomes High King will pledge Skyrim’s armies to the defense of the Empire.”
“Doesn’t sound very independent to me,” Talen said.
“Oh, but it is. Sure, Skyrim still has to lend its armies to the Empire, but the important thing is that the laws of the Empire don’t apply up here anymore. No more Concordat, the Thalmor are getting kicked out, so the Stormcloaks are placated.”
Keerava leaned onto the bar and posed a question. “Alright, but that sounds like a whole lot of concessions on the Empire’s part, how’d you convince Tullius to go along with it?”
“Honestly, the promise of armies was enough.” Bjorn paused briefly and went on. “Well, sort of enough. I had to convince everyone that the Dominion is the real threat – and they are. The Empire can’t afford to fight stupid little wars up in Skyrim when it’s supposed to be fortifying the border with Elsweyr and that part of Hammerfell the Dominion grabbed.” He tried to take a drink from his mug, but found it empty, so went back to talking. “Tullius isn’t an idiot, he knows that. Ulfric’s not an idiot either. They both know who the enemy actually is, and they know neither of them can do it alone. Skyrim could maybe hold out in an assault a little longer than Cyrodiil could, ‘cause of all the mountains, but on their own they’d be fucked one way or another.”
Azhani was listening in absent-mindedly, sipping at her drink that seemed to refill itself. She was paying only enough attention to find an opportunity to join in. “Independent Skyrim is a better asset anyways,” she said. “If they willingly side with the Empire, they’ll fight better. Especially against Dominion armies that don’t want to be there.” Speaking of not wanting to be places, Azhani could tell she’d want to be elsewhere quite soon. How long had she been drinking anyways? How many times had she finished this one mug?
“Exactly. It’d still be better if we had the Redguards on our side, but when this war with the Dominion starts, I guarantee you’ll see Nords lining up for a chance to burn down Alinor in the name of their High King.”
“Their High King? Not ours?” Keerava cocked her head.
The Dragonborn shrugged. “Yeah. Didn’t I explain it to you? I’m from Cyrodiil. May be a Nord but I’m one hundred percent Imperial. Sure, I kinda… crossed the border into Skyrim illegally because Cyrodiil is a shitheap and I almost lost my head for it, but things actually might start looking up enough for me to go home when this is all over.”
“Huh.” Keerava walked out from behind the bar and headed for the stairs, followed closely by Talen. “Well, I’m going to go pack. Don’t burn the place down while we’re gone.”
“I’ll try.”
A few hours passed and the Argonian proprietors had set out with meager supplies for their trip – Azhani couldn’t tell exactly what they had, but it smelled like meat and there was a lot of clattering of glass bottles. Way more bottles than any sane person would be expected to need on a voyage that would take two weeks at most. Almost reminded her of how she’d been sitting in the same place for a while, slowly but surely working through the remaining stock of mead.
Of course, she was presently engaged in a conversation with the Dragonborn, so leaving to deal with the implications of her activities for the past several hours would be rude and, frankly, embarrassing.
“Never tried, no,” she said to the Dragonborn who had moved to Keerava’s usual seat.
“Really?” He leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Never even considered learning magic?”
“It never really came up.” Azhani shrugged and watched her drink be refilled for the billionth time today. “Not much of a Khajiit thing anyways.”
“Yeah, sure, but how much of that is because you guys just don’t want to do magic?”
“Growing up, the only thing close to magic was the sugar rituals at the temples.” Azhani folded her arms. “And I’m pretty sure now that we were just getting high on the fumes and none of it was magic.”
“Alright, yeah, fair enough.” Bjorn stroked his chin. “But how about this: if you were born at the right time, you could have a lot of potential for magic no matter what. Do you know what constellation you were born under?”
Azhani shrugged and adjusted herself on her stool – sitting around for hours on end was getting rather uncomfortable, for several reasons. “We don’t really keep track of the stars. I know it was winter, but we track the moons more than anything.”
The Dragonborn shuffled through one of the pouches he carried with him and pulled out a small book, then flipped through to a page with a diagram of the moons. “Might still be able to figure it out. I assume you would know what the moons were when you were born.”
“Well, yes… is that the Firmament?” The Khajiit’s head was at an awkward angle to allow her to read the title printed along the spine – the cover had no information on it but a picture of one of the moons with a constellation drawn on top.
“A slightly more advanced, pocket-sized version of it, yeah.” Bjorn tapped the page he had opened to. “So, your moons?”
Azhani pulled herself into a more comfortable position. “Right. It was, uh, two dark moons.”
“Mhm. Give me a second.”
For a little while, the only sound was the flipping of pages, and then charcoal rubbing on parchment once the Dragonborn had procured those. Azhani shuffled around a little more while he worked – she’d definitely need to leave soon, but this was interesting. She could, of course, just head upstairs while nothing was actually happening, but knowing her luck that would be the exact moment the inn would fill up with customers and she’d be needed for work. Now that she was thinking about it, that sort of reasoning was exactly what kept getting her into unfortunate situations. All logic would dictate she should just leave, deal with the problem, then come back. And yet…
“So what exactly are you doing?”
The Dragonborn didn’t look up. “The lunar cycle doesn’t line up exactly with the actual months, but it’s still fairly predictable. You’re, what, twenty…”
“Two.”
“179, right?” When Azhani nodded, he continued. “Hey, ‘70s kids, nice.” Then he cleared his throat – or tried to, anyways, and just ended up coughing instead. “Gah. Well, anyways, you can sort of predict where a particular lunar phase is going to land in any given month, since there’s always a pattern to the way they drift through the months. This book has information on every time each moon was full and new for the first fifteen years of the era, so I’ve got to just kinda… drag that along for a century and a half until we get to winter of 179 and see what comes up for two new moons.”
“I barely understood half of that but okay.” She leaned forward a bit. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“Well,” Bjorn looked up briefly then returned to his work. “Winter is three months, right, so that’s three possible dominant constellations. Atronach, Tower, and Thief. Plus, I guess, the Serpent, but I have no idea how that works. Anyways, out of those, only the Atronach does anything to magical ability, so if that’s actually what you were born under, that’s pretty great for you because it’d mean you’ve got a fuckton of magical potential.”
Azhani put one leg over the other. “There’s a catch there, yes?”
“Yeah, unfortunately, Atronach would mean you don’t make your own magicka, you’d have to get spells shot at you to get some or you’d just have to drink a potion or something. I mean sure odds are you just flat out can’t do magic, but if you were an Atronach the whole time, there’s your reason for it.”
“Great.” Azhani rolled her eyes.
A few minutes passed in silence, with the Dragonborn drawing his diagrams and various numbers. Azhani had just decided to get up and go upstairs when he’d finished.
“Alright, I’ve got something here,” he said. “There’s one double-new-moon at the start of Sun’s Dusk.”
Azhani dropped back into her seat. “Not that early into winter.”
“Then I’ve got another one in the middle of Frostfall? That sound about right?”
“I… guess? It wasn’t at the end of winter either so that must be it.”
Bjorn closed the book and put it away, followed by the absolute atrocity of a calculation he’d just finished working on. “Then if all that’s accurate, that’d make you a Tower. So, by all means, you should be perfectly capable of magic.”
“You say that now…”
“Hey,” the Dragonborn said, pointing across the bar. “How would you know if you’ve never tried, huh?” He opened up the hand he had pointed with and laid it palm-up on the bar. “Here, just try this, really simple.” Then he lifted his hand slightly, made a fist, and when his hand flew open again, there was a little ball of fire floating there. “See? Doesn’t take much, you just have to learn how to feel the magicka in your body and move it out. Ah.” Bjorn shook his hand, dismissing the flame. “Just don’t let fire sit in your hand like that, you’ll get burned.”
Azhani sighed and held out one hand in front of her. “Fine, I’ll try it.” She closed her eyes and tried to focus on… whatever the Dragonborn had told her to do. Though, she was shocked into opening up again when she felt the results of being a little bit too focused.
‘Just get this done with and then go’, she told herself. Then she sighed again and tried again to focus, this time with her legs pressed together.
“Remember, just focus on your energy and feel it moving to your hand.”
“Maybe I could focus if you shut up.”
Azhani, of course, couldn’t see Bjorn’s response, but she had a feeling he’d done something with his hands.
She focused on her hand until she could have sworn it got warmer, then threw her hand open and looked at what she’d done. Or, the lack of things she’d done.
“One more try?” The Dragonborn was leaning into the bar a little bit, angled so that his injured side was facing the kitchen.
Azhani nodded and closed her hand and eyes again, again trying to focus on making something happen. After a little while and more than a single distraction from elsewhere in her body, she was sure her hand had warmed up again, and again she tried to cast… whatever it would be.
It turned out to be a spark and a puff of smoke, but considering Azhani was expecting literally nothing, she nearly fell off her barstool with a surprised squeak. When she recovered, she felt the secondary result of that incident, and immediately stood up with legs crossed.
“Hey, that was something,” Bjorn said, but Azhani was barely listening.
“Mmh, yeah, uh, I’ll be right back.” Azhani spoke quickly and rushed up the stairs before the Dragonborn could figure out what had just happened. Standing had made her situation quite a bit worse, and considering it had been several hours since she’d done anything about it, she didn’t have much time left.
By some miracle, though, she’d made it to her room without releasing anything she hadn’t already. Of course, Azhani was not going to take any chances, so as soon as the door was closed, her pants were on the ground and her chamberpot had been dragged out from under her bed.
She got herself into position immediately, and her body took care of the rest on its own. She was fairly sure it was loud enough to be heard downstairs, but then that was always something she was afraid of and it never seemed to actually be true. Except that one time…
Azhani sighed and flicked her tail. Whatever. None of that mattered. What did matter was that she kept getting herself into these situations, and that needed to stop. It did feel good though, so perhaps some deep part of her actually wanted her to end up like this. But that was silly, right? Surely.
Or maybe it wasn’t all that absurd. It was Keerava’s “thing”, after all. Then again, Azhani only took any pleasure in the release, as anyone would, not everything leading up to it as Keerava apparently enjoyed. Still, there had to be some reason she kept getting herself into trouble like that…
That would be something to determine some other time, though – it had been a good two minutes and now nothing more was happening, so Azhani dressed herself up again and headed back downstairs.
As a side-note here, if the discussion about Azhani and shoes seems weird, it's because she's actually the type of digitrade Khajiit that was in Morrowind, not the plantigrade ones from the later games - that was never established well before, because before Season Unending it didn't really matter. Because it didn't really matter before, there may be some things in earlier chapters that would give her more human legs and feet and whatever else, and once the blogging system opens up I'll have a cleaned-up version there that gets rid of any inconsistencies like that.
Edited May 5, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
16 people following a series that updates this rarely is some serious dedication, I tell you what. Y'all're a great audience. I just wish more of you would comment.
“I really don’t want to hear what Valen Dreth would have done.” The Dragonborn waved a piece of bacon across the counter. “I’m sure it’s something asinine like half of the other shit you say he did.”
Romlyn Dreth held up a finger as he took a spoonful of oatmeal. “Ah, well,” he said when the spoon returned to the bowl. “How would you know if you won’t listen, eh?”
“Sure, but, how about I tell you a story for once instead?” Bjorn tapped his free hand on the bar. “I’ve got all of Keerava’s records back here, I bet I can tell you the story of all the money you owe her.” He held another piece of bacon in his mouth momentarily and pulled out a small stack of books from his side of the bar. “Better yet, I could tell you the story of how all the money I owe her for food and board ended up on your tab instead.”
“You wouldn’t.” Romlyn shot a dirty look across the bar and went back to eating.
The Dragonborn just shrugged. “Nah, you’re right.” Flipping through one of the books, he continued. “Though, while I’ve got you here… Ah, here we are, ‘Motherfucking Romlyn Fucking Dreth’ – mm, she likes you, eh? Aaaaaand that’ll be two hund-“
“YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE A JOB.” Romlyn suddenly shot up and yelled extremely quickly. “I’m going to go do that now goodbye thank you such a shame you can’t tell me more about that debt right now…” He spoke as he backed away to the door, and kept talking even on his way out, but whatever he was saying trailed off into incomprehensible muttering by the time he was in the street.
At the same time, Azhani came downstairs, just in time to see Romlyn run out the door. She made her way over to the counter, rubbing her eyes. “What was that about?”
“Eh, just Romlyn Dreth things,” Bjorn said, dragging his plate to a more convenient location – which, of course, Azhani promptly sat directly in front of. “Looks like you slept well. Figure you’d be ready to try magic again today?”
Azhani licked her hand and ran it through her hair, which she hadn’t yet bothered to braid like she normally would. “Maybe something that isn’t going to explode in my face every time I try it.”
“Hey, that last one was almost not an explosion.” He took a sip of the drink he’d prepared himself, tried not to react to the bitterness, and went on speaking. “But, no, there’s plenty of other stuff for you to learn. Even other kinds of magic, but I’m pretty sure the only kind that can’t explode is the kind where you can accidentally summon a Daedroth that destroys the entire town instead.” He drank some more and stuffed some bacon into his mouth right after. “S’I’guess tha’s worse’n ‘splodin’.”
“Uh yeah maybe let’s not do that.” Azhani grabbed herself a handful of bacon, then turned her attention to Bjorn’s drink. “What is that? Smells familiar.”
Bjorn lifted his mug and shrugged. “What, this? I think it’s Argonian coffee or something. Way stronger than any of the stuff I’ve known to come out of southern Nibenay, anyways. I wonder how they can afford stuff like this.”
Azhani simply put her elbow on the bar, held out her hand, and made a beckoning motion, and Bjorn slid the mug over to her. She picked it up, sniffed at it for a bit, then repeatedly dipped her tongue into it. “Okay, I don’t know what humans think coffee is but if you think this is strong, you clearly have never seen the real thing.” She handed the mug back to Bjorn, who set it aside. “It is a bit different than traditional Khajiiti stuff, though – I guess Argonians have different taste.”
Bjorn leaned forward onto the bar, careful not to let his body touch the counter. “Weren’t you a kid when you left? I find it hard to believe a little girl would drink enough coffee to know quality, much less be able to tell the difference between stuff grown in Elsweyr and Black Marsh just by taste.”
“Well, not when I lived in Anequina, no, but the Baandari would always have some, and they always brought it from home. And of course whenever I had any it would be theirs.” Azhani shrugged. “I never did get as attached to it as they did, though, because I never needed to stay awake like they do.”
“And then drinking enough to stay awake would just cause more problems, eh?”
Bjorn chuckled, and Azhani glared at him. “Don’t go there,” she said.
“Heh. Sorry.” The Dragonborn grimaced as he drank more of his coffee. “Gah. A-anyways, been meaning to ask… What’s up with the way you speak now? It’s, eh, more… human now, I guess.”
“Hm? Oh, you mean the ‘this one’ thing? That’s… that’s a cultural thing. We don’t really… have the same kind of pronouns in Ta’agra as you do, so our «this one»-“ Azhani made quotes with her fingers, saying the phrase first in her native tongue then repeating it in Cyrodiilic. “- is… I guess you’d call it formal? For people you don’t know, or you need to impress. The rest is more personal, for friends.”
“So, what, am I your friend now? I thought I you were still treating me like some crazy pervert.”
“Hey, I never said you weren’t. But I mean, I did kind of watch you almost get yourself killed, so that builds trust a little bit, no?”
“I guess so.” Bjorn leaned back as far as he could, reaching out behind him with his staff for more support. “And, uh, maybe not a good time to mention it but you… probably shouldn’t be leaning on the bar like that.”
Azhani looked down without a word, then after a second straightened up, pulling her shirt collar up to her neck.
“Though, I guess there’s not a whole lot to see there anyways…” The Dragonborn’s thoughts trailed off and turned into frantic stuttering as Azhani glared at him with a hand on her chest and a look on her face like he’d just killed her entire family. “Wait, no, I didn’t- that’s not- I meant- they- you don’t- but- the- ah, shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Uh, yeah, you did.” Azhani sighed, then got up and started for the stairs. “Right, so, uh, I’m going to go… change into something better.”
She wasn’t quite sure why she’d said that – she’d truly intended to wear what she’d come downstairs in, since she always wore an apron that would make it harder to tell she was wearing rags underneath. She couldn’t even remember if she had other clothes, since for most of her life even a second pair of pants would have been considered a luxury. Unfortunate, considering that same part of her life was when hauling around a second pair of pants would have made things significantly easier.
Of course, if Azhani’s current living conditions were any indication of what would have happened had she had such a convenience, she wouldn’t have known what to do with extra pants. The first thing she saw on returning to her room, after all, was a variety of pieces of what few outfits she had strewn about the room essentially at random. The room had a dresser in it as a matter of course but considering she’d never had any reason to use one before, she’d just end up forgetting anything she left there and be right back at square one.
Naturally, Azhani’s traditional rags joined the mess, ending up thrown in the general direction of the bed while the Khajiit seated herself on a stool facing a little mirror on the wall. While ostensibly there to get her hair in order, she couldn’t help but bring a hand to her chest, pushing up on her breasts one at a time and frowning at her reflection. Sure, Azhani had never needed to use support or anything, but they weren’t really that small. That’s what she’d keep telling herself anyways, even through the years where there were far more important things to worry about. Even so, for all her attempts to convince herself she didn’t care, it still kinda hurt to have someone joke about them.
A joke in bad taste wasn’t about to kill her good mood, though. She had a job and a place to live, after all. And as she got up from the stool with her hair properly tied up, she found several pieces of a simple outfit she wouldn’t even have if not for Keerava’s generosity. With a very lenient definition of “generosity”, anyways, considering Keerava probably wouldn’t have even offered the arrangement if not for the fact that it was apparently very easy for her to get her kicks out of her Khajiiti tenant’s… misadventures, but it was better than nothing. Though, Azhani did feel a little strange knowing that her situation was, albeit indirectly, being used for someone else’s sexual pleasure again. At least she wasn’t expected to do anything in that regard anymore.
And, really, she was barely expected to do anything to cover the actual business arrangement. Keerava and Talen normally covered all the necessary work well enough on their own, and even though they were away, Azhani would no doubt still be doing very little with the help of a legendary super-human like Bjorn, injured though he was. Assuming, of course, he didn’t decide to sit on the sidelines and let Azhani work constantly all day so that he could be entertained just the same as Keerava would be. With any luck he’d be smart enough to know better than to try that on someone with claws. A wet cat is a very dangerous thing indeed.
He wouldn’t be getting that opportunity, unfortunately. Not today, anyways. After throwing on whatever it was she’d picked up off the floor, Azhani went back downstairs and up to the bar, where the Dragonborn was clearing dishes and wiping down counters. All with one arm, even, as the other was still occupied by the staff he was leaning into.
“Hey,” she called out to him. “Would you be alright alone today?”
Bjorn turned to look at her and shrugged. “Eh. Probably won’t be that hard, doesn’t seem like there’ll be much noise.” He put his staff in front of himself and leaned forward onto it, one foot slightly off the ground to make up for it. “Why, going somewhere?”
“Just around town. Probably won’t get a chance when Keerava gets back.”
“Yeah somehow I can’t imagine she’d want to let you out of her sight.” The Dragonborn coughed then went on. “Anyways, you’re not planning on going outside of town or anything, are you? Really shouldn’t do that without, like, a knife or something.”
“No, wasn’t going to leave town. There some specific reason I shouldn’t or…?”
“What, other than the dragons? Just the usual bandits and wild animals. Normally I wouldn’t be too concerned about getting mugged but the Rift, eh… reminds me of Bravil. And you’re pretty much the ideal target for a bandit. A woman, unarmed, with a nice ass, in some shady backwater part of the country is a very easy mark.” Bjorn coughed again, moving his staff back to his side for proper support.
“Wait, what was that after unarmed?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh huh.” Azhani raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue further. “Well, no, I’m not going to leave town, but I do have money-“ She tapped the pouch at her side, mostly to assure herself that she hadn’t forgotten her coinpurse again. “-so why not go out and see what people are selling?”
Bjorn just nodded along and shrugged. “Yeah, alright, you have fun then. I should be fine here, nobody’s going to try anything when they see who’s in charge today. I might even be able to scare some of them into paying off what they owe.” He chuckled for just a moment, having stopped abruptly and put a hand across his chest. “Ah… They don’t need to know I still can’t Shout just yet.”
“Don’t anger the dragon, right?” Azhani twitched her nose as if silently enjoying her own joke. “Eh, anyways, I should be back by sunset. If you scare all the customers away by then and Keerava blames me for it, I’m going to kill you.”
“Sure, that sounds fair to me.” The Dragonborn gave a two-fingered salute with his free hand while Azhani just rolled her eyes and headed for the door. “I’ll be sure to only scare Romlyn away.”
Azhani’s only response was a little wave as she left, and when the door closed behind her she took a moment to just stand there. She looked out at the little bit of town she could see from in front of the inn, admiring the sun’s early glow reflected in the canals and the lake, and feeling the crisp morning breeze run through her fur. It was going to be a good day. Or, Azhani hoped it would be. That other feeling that was just making itself known, though very faintly, wasn’t a concern. Must have just been the cold.
Indeed it was, as the slight twinge had faded away entirely once Azhani stepped into a well-insulated store – a shoemaker’s shop, more specifically, as Skyrim’s ground was decidedly hostile to bare feet, especially sensitive Khajiiti pads. How did she ever get by before? At best she’d have her feet wrapped up in crude bandages for a modicum of protection. That may have worked in the sands and savannahs of Anequina but the rugged terrain of the far north meant she needed something better.
There was the light tinkling of quaint little chimes overhead as Azhani entered, and she was immediately greeted by the man behind the counter before she’d even crossed the floor.
“Mornin’, miss. What can I do for ya?” He wiped his hands on a towel slung over his shoulder, then crossed his arms.
Azhani hesitantly approached the counter, looking back at her own feet and grabbing at the pouch on her belt to feel its weight. “Yeah, uh, this one needs… eh, unusual shoes. What would it take to have a pair made?”
The shopkeeper leaned forward slightly and looked down at the floor, where one of Azhani’s feet was idly pawing at the ground. “Well, can’t say I’ve ever worked with someone like you before. Had a few Khajiit in, of course, but they were all… uh, normal. No offense.” He moved on when Azhani just shrugged at him. “Anyways, I’ve got no idea what it’d cost. How high up your leg you gonna need ‘em?”
Azhani took a step back and turned slightly to give the shopkeeper a better view of her leg. “Half way to the knee, yes? So, right about here.” Then she bent over and indicated with her hand a space between her knee and her ankle, presumably because a human wouldn’t be able to tell one joint from the other.
“Uh huh.” The cobbler stroked his chin for a while. “Hm, I suppose I could have it done in a few days, if you just stick around here for a little while so I can get proper measurements. Or, if it doesn’t get too busy – and it never does, people around here will hold onto their shoes ‘til they turn to dust – I could be done by closing tonight, but you’d have to stay here the whole time, and that’s a good… twelve hours. Probably would be cheaper for both of us that way since I could be more precise with how much stuff I’m using, but it’s up to you if sitting around here all day is worth it.”
“Would it be alright if this one had measurements taken now, then she could come back later for all the rest?”
“Sure,” was the response as the shopkeeper produced a tape measure and perhaps far more paper than necessary. “It’ll take an hour or two to figure out what in Oblivion I’m supposed to be doing anyways. Just, uh, sit down right over there-“ He gestured to a bench off to the side, and followed Azhani over to it as the Khajiit took a seat.
Azhani shuffled around a bit while the shopkeeper did his work – he was being very professional, sure, but she was glad he wouldn’t be doing anything higher up all the same. Even given the limited area he was working with, though, she was still uncomfortable. She never let anyone touch her legs – only her sister, and only to wrap them for long journeys. Considering this man was most certainly not a Khajiiti lady, Azhani really would have preferred to not be in such a situation. It was a necessary evil.
Thus she sat there in silence, and after far too many awkward minutes, she was able to get up and leave. She gave a curt nod to the shopkeeper, who said something in response that Azhani didn’t hear in her hurry to go do something else.
It was still cold when Azhani stepped outside again, though the sun had risen to a more respectable height. The Khajiit looked around for a moment, bringing her arms and legs closer together for a little bit of warmth, and eventually decided on heading in the general direction of the important-looking buildings over by the city wall. There weren’t very many people out just yet, but Azhani still made sure to weave her way around the few that were in the streets, still using her old techniques for passing unnoticed through a crowd. Of course, given there was hardly a crowd at all to begin with, Azhani just ended up disorienting herself.
She took a moment to figure out what she was looking at. Seemed like some sort of temple, or at the very least some incredibly rich person’s massive house. What a silly idea. Nobody in Riften could afford something like that. Except maybe the thieves, but Azhani knew from experience they wouldn’t flaunt their wealth like that. Plus there were banners outside that had what was probably a religious symbol on them, and these people didn’t exactly seem like they’d be that fanatical.
Azhani shrugged to herself and headed towards the temple – no doubt she could learn something, and she’d never actually been inside a temple dedicated to the proper Imperial Divines before. Sure, there had been plenty of Khajiiti temples with shrines to similar gods in her youth, but they were always overshadowed by the Moons. Humans didn’t seem to be all that big on ritual either, she realized upon entering, as there didn’t seem to be much of note inside the temple other than a massive statue to some god and a lot of benches. She could remember the occasional sermon by the Moon Priests, but nothing was ever so formal as this – seemed like the entire purpose of these temples was to come in, sit down, and listen to someone talk for a few hours. Silly human traditions. Sad, too, because Azhani knew that humans would get utterly wasted on moon sugar, so they’d never get to experience its proper spiritual – and delicious – effects.
She was shaken from her thoughts by a voice – a Redguard in simple robes was talking to her. “Help you with anything?”
“Uh, yeah, actually. Two things. First, is there any kind of magic you could teach someone?”
“You want to learn magic?” The priest gave her a weird look for a second. “Uh, well, I couldn’t tell you any better than the absolute basics. And aren’t you the Dragonborn’s friend? He’s probably your best bet for miles.”
“Yeah, that’s what this one thought.” Azhani shook her head. “And, uh, you can explain the gods here, yes?”
“Of course, that’s my job.” The priest turned to sit on one of the benches, no doubt preparing some immense speech. “Well, first off I don’t know much about Nordic tradition – I mostly know the Imperial pantheon. ‘Course, they’ve still got the Eight up here. Or, I guess pretty soon it’ll be the Nine again won’t it?” The priest was thinking with his hands, pointing in various directions at absolutely nothing. “Anyways, everyone’s got the same basic Eight, I’m sure you know them under slightly different names.” He threw up his hands for a bit. “Now, I’m not going to pretend I know anything about how religion in Elsweyr works so I won’t even try to tell you how your names for gods translate to the Imperial names, but they’re the same gods in the end. Discounting, of course, all the extra ones beyond the Eight that your people have.” The priest started stroking his chin, ignoring Azhani’s glare – he was right to assume she was raised on the old pantheon of course, but that was still mildly racist. Plenty of Khajiit were being brought up on Auri-El instead of Alkosh, after all. “Anyways, the Nords have the Eight, and Talos, then… well, there’s Alduin, as much as I’m sure we’d all prefer that he weren’t a god. Then there’s Shor. I’m not exactly sure what he is, but I think he’s supposed to be some heroic warrior-god who fought for humanity. Far as I know they say he’s dead now.” Azhani shuffled around a little bit. She recognized the concept of a dead god – a Missing God back home – but she was always taught that he was an evil trickster. “There are Tsun and Stuhn, but I think they’re just versions of some of the Eight. Then there’s also Herma-Mora and Orkey. Orkey’s a villain like Alduin, I think. You’d have to ask someone more knowledgeable about him. I know Herma-Mora is just the Daedra Lord, I’m sure you’ve at least heard of him.”
“Is that it? What about Azurah, or Y’ffer?”
The priest raised an eyebrow at Azhani. “I don’t know anything about Y’ffer. I would assume it’s the same thing as Y’ffre, like the wood elves have. Empire doesn’t have a version of him, I don’t think. And, well, Azura’s a Daedra.” He crossed his arms. “Elsewhere in th- er, in the Empire, Daedra worship is… eh, it’s around, but to say it’s frowned upon is a bit of an understatement.” Then he hastily added, “Not that anyone would judge you for it, of course, as long as you keep everything clean. Uh, Azura’s normally considered one of the more acceptable ones anyways.”
Azhani crossed her arms. “Uh huh. Oh, and, uh, one more thing. Where could this one get something to help keep track of what month it is?”
“I suppose any bookstore would sell you a calendar.” The priest shrugged. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that wasn’t obvious. But then, plenty of people think star charts are obvious.”
“Our ‘months’ go by what phase the moons are in.” This guy was either incredibly socially inept or a closeted racist – sure he’d tried to save face, but still. Azhani wouldn’t have been surprised if it were the latter, considering Skyrim’s general isolation from anything not human. “We don’t really have names for any of those time periods beyond just describing what the moons look like.”
“Fair enough. If that’s all, I’m going to get back to work. You’re more than welcome to come back if you like, even if it’s just to be somewhere quiet for a while.” He stood up and waved, and Azhani gave an awkward little wave in return as she left.
A while later, perhaps a couple of hours, Azhani found herself wandering back to the shoe store. She’d found a place selling calendars and picked one up, but almost immediately regretted making the purchase once she realized not knowing what month or day it even was to begin with meant the whole thing was useless. Perhaps she’d have to ask Bjorn about it, since it would be useful being able to keep track of time like a human. It’d also help if she could track the passage of hours in a way that didn’t rely on her fluid intake – she’d be fine for a while yet, since she’d only just dealt with her annoying internal clock by finding a quiet place behind the temple, but she’d feel a lot better if her body sending warning signals wasn’t the only way to know that six hours had passed.
At least for right now it was a good enough system – she’d be in one place for who-knows-how-long, probably expected to either not leave or not go far, so it was good that she’d be going into it fresh. In any case, upon entering the store she went silently to the same bench she’d been seated at that morning. The shopkeeper took notice soon enough and approached with what was perhaps far too much leather and a good deal of peculiar tools – doubtless everyday objects to him, but aside from a few needles, knives, and shears, Azhani recognized nothing. Measuring tools, perhaps.
The shopkeeper tried to engage in conversation while he worked, but Azhani either ignored him or gave the absolute minimum responses, so he eventually stopped talking. It was weird enough having someone working with her feet, she really didn’t need them to talk to her too.
She was too tired for a conversation anyways. She couldn’t tell if that was because she’d been out since morning, or because she still hadn’t gotten used to getting proper amounts of sleep and her body was trying to force her to make up for ten restless years. Perhaps both.
It didn’t really matter why anyways. As uncomfortable as the situation was, Azhani still found herself drifting off to the sounds of shears working leather, only to be suddenly awoken by something poking her shoulder. It felt like no time had passed at all, but her slurred response and the lack of other noise proved it had been a few hours.
«Uhrrr… Nari? What are you doing…?» She couldn’t even remember any dreams, but clearly she had been pulled out of one, and it took her a while to readjust to the real world. And then she almost jumped off the bench before remembering where she was and why. Then she was awake enough to register that she wasn’t alone, and she was pretty sure she’d just said something. Something this man would have heard.
“You, uh, you heard that didn’t you?”
The shopkeeper nodded, having returned behind his counter after presumably prodding Azhani to awaken her. “Yeah, you’ve been talking in your sleep for a few hours. It all just kinda sounded like cat noises to me though. No offense.” He looked over at Azhani only briefly, now intently focused on his work, trying and failing to get a sole properly nailed to the shoes he’d made. “Didn’t really want to wake you anyways, but I’m almost done here…” He managed to get one of the shoes at the perfect angle and everything fell into place, but he still had to figure out the puzzle of the other one. “And, y’know, I’d quite like to get paid.”
Azhani rolled her eyes and stretched. “Mmm. Of course you would. How much?” She stood up and headed for the counter, a hand reaching for the pouch on her belt, though her weight having shifted meant something deep within her body was calling out to her. As if she needed any more evidence that she’d been there for several hours already.
“Let’s say… sixty-five, for the pair?” The shopkeeper seemed to be bending in impossible directions to get the second shoe to assemble properly.
“Sixty-five, you say?” Azhani looked through her coinpurse for a little while, subtly pressing her legs together, then just dropped the entire purse onto the counter. “This one has fifty.”
“Eh, fifty works too.” There was a shrug from behind the counter as the last shoe come together, then the pair was dropped onto the counter next to Azhani’s coinpurse. “There. If those don’t fit, then someone came in and used magic on them, because I made them perfect. Or, as close to as I can get for a first time with that shape.”
Azhani grabbed her new shoes from the counter and held them out in front of her. They looked almost like those weird high-heeled contraptions she’d seen on the rich elves and nobles in the Imperial City. “Pompous bitch” was the best way she was able to describe that sort of person in her youth and as far as she was concerned it was still the best way to describe what her shoes reminded her of. It was a reasonable comparison, of course. Seemed like the point of those monstrosities was to have a woman walk mainly on her toes and have the rest of her foot supported by a spike. Azhani always thought it was humorous that they’d want to emulate her walk, couldn’t even do that right, then would go on for hours about how the Khajiiti beggar in the corner had done everything in life wrong.
Now here was Azhani with shoes made specifically for someone who already did walk on her toes. And these were simple and functional, not some ostentatious mess built purely for the sake of whatever the current year’s Imperial fashion was to be. No, these shoes merely had simple laces up the sides, steel caps over the toes, and were made of good thick leather. They’d do exactly what she needed them to.
They fit well enough, too, which was to be expected of something that necessitated sitting around for who-knows-how-long. Of course, a high-quality product was not the only result of that time spent, and bending down to put them on made sure Azhani was well aware of that. She gave a little nod to the shopkeeper before leaving, taking a moment to look around right outside the shop’s door. It was quite a bit warmer than it had been earlier, and it seemed like it’d be sunset soon – still bright and warm, but people filled the streets and their shadows were getting longer. Very good for Azhani, as there were still some places she’d been meaning to see and she had every intention of returning to the inn by sunset as promised. That, and she had to deal with her own personal problems, and if she went back to the inn to do that she wouldn’t want to leave again.
Azhani’s current plan, then, consisted of wandering around in the general direction of the places she’d been meaning to visit and keeping an eye out for quiet, isolated alleys or some other such place. That was a bit of a skill of hers, as much as she’d rather not call it one. Years living on the streets had taught her how to identify from miles away quiet places wherein she could do her business in peace.
As it turned out, those skills weren’t very applicable in Riften. Now that people were actually out doing things, there was a considerable lack of quiet space in town. It seemed as if the back alleys in Riften were all designed for criminal undertakings – which, come to think of it, wouldn’t be very surprising for the home of the Thieves Guild.
On that note, perhaps the original idea wasn’t exactly ideal either. The flaws in a plan that consisted of hiding out in a confined space with one exit while being very much exposed were quite obvious. No, perhaps the best option would be to leave town. Only a little bit, enough to find some bush or something. And so she found her feet carrying her to the nearest exit, the south gate. Every so often she’d look over her shoulder, the sound of her own footsteps on the cobbled roads so completely foreign that she was sure someone was following her.
That wouldn’t have been all that much of a problem if not for the fact that the possibility of being followed – even if she’d repeatedly confirmed that was not actually the case – would very much throw off her plans. And, if she was honest with herself, it was making her condition worse, her need increasing by mere virtue of the possibility that she would be denied.
It would be alright if she could just get out of town, though, she’d keep telling herself. That was all she needed to do. Didn’t need to go far. She could probably even find a nice spot against the city wall if she really wanted to.
The closer she got to the city gate, though, the more Azhani thought the world had found yet another way to make one of her plans go completely wrong. The guards looked to be acting a little strange from a distance, but at first she’d just figured they’d been standing there all day. In their shaking she saw a bit of herself.
Alas, it wouldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t be, because the world seemed to love messing with Azhani. It turned out the guards each had a hand on their swords, and were looking at each other and back out down the road. One of them jumped when Azhani came up from behind, but then immediately resumed looking at whatever had frightened them so.
Azhani needed only look around the guard to see what the problem was. A little way down the road, there was what seemed to be a large snake stretched out, twitching slightly ever so often. Looking just to the right, towards the river, revealed that it was actually the tail of something much worse.
Oh, sure, the dragon wasn’t doing anything – seemed to just be drinking – and it wasn’t all that large, for a dragon, but it was still there. Right next to a town. It had to have some reason to have been there specifically, and whatever that reason was it couldn’t be good.
They were only a minimal concern, but it wasn’t good for Azhani’s pants either. The little warm patch that had just appeared didn’t bode well, especially since both of Azhani’s plans were now out the window, and there was little chance she’d be able to get back to the inn on time – not that she’d want to show up there in her present state anyways. No doubt the Dragonborn would have devised some way to complicate things for her.
No, that wasn’t an option. But perhaps she still had a chance of sneaking out of town and into the woods, where hopefully the dragon wouldn’t see her? Well, the dragon itself defeated that plan fairly quickly. Still it wasn’t doing much, all it had done was stretch its wings and look over to the city gate, but even so, it knew Azhani was there, and it meant there was no way for her to leave town now.
So she did the only thing she knew she could do and ran off, plowing through more than a few people who had gathered to see what was happening. Azhani wasn’t sure where she was going, but she now had the strangest feeling that whatever could happen to her inside the city walls was much better than what the dragon could do. She found herself rounding a corner into the one alley she’d seen that didn’t have anyone in it, and pressed her back against one of the walls. The warmth had replenished itself and spread, and it seemed to only be getting warmer.
Naturally, that just sent Azhani into even more of a panic, and she started trying to claw her way out of the belt she’d been wearing while the wall she was leaning on grew darker. She eventually managed to get it undone, but by then it was too late for her and she slid down to the ground. The only effort on her part was to move her legs to make sure her new shoes would be spared from the flood she’d surrendered herself to. It was actually a bit of a disappointing flood, especially considering Azhani now just wanted it to be over as soon as possible – she was still in panic mode, heart racing and breathing fast and shallow, so the best she could do was a weak, slow stream that warmed her own rear more than it stained the ground.
Azhani could only sit there for the several minutes it would take to finish, occasionally pawing at herself as if she still had some hope of stopping. Only a trickle made its way through the fabric of her pants and out onto the street, so the puddle was mediocre and nowhere near a threat to her shoes, so her legs came closer to the rest of her body until she could grab at her knees. Her head was tipped upwards, resting against the wall and watching the light fade from the sky. Only now did she realize what had been happening earlier and why the wall was warmer than anything outside in Skyrim had any right to be, but there wasn’t anything to be done about that anymore.
When she finally finished and stood up, her pants nearly pulled themselves off with the weight of her waters, but she kept a hold on them and was subjected to another minute of waiting for them to stop dripping. That managed to create streams down her legs, finally allowing her to experience a sensation she never imagined she’d be able to experience nor did she ever want to. And these were brand-new shoes, too.
Eventually Azhani decided she’d been dripping long enough to be able to get moving, so she headed immediately for the inn – sure, she’d had plans, but there was no way she was going to get to them now. She walked as quickly as she could while also being careful enough to not get too much of the sensation of urine against her feet. As it turned out, that wasn’t actually all that quick, so Azhani felt another wave of relief as she pressed up against the inn door, finally home and just working herself up to actually getting inside. The inn was about as empty as it was in the morning, except for a few regulars at the bar who didn’t acknowledge Azhani’s presence when she did get herself inside.
Bjorn did give her a look, though, and he opened his mouth to make some comment, but was quickly silenced by a hiss as Azhani went upstairs. |
Let me just ignore how late this is.
“Anyways , it’s not terribly complicated. Just gotta remember what day it is, is all. Might help to mark off days that already passed, so you don’t think it’s last week, y’know?”
“Right, but I still do not understand why it has nothing to do with the moons.” Azhani had brought her new calendar to the Dragonborn so he could explain it to her – she learned quickly enough, and was now working on a cup of tea and waiting for people to show up. It was her turn to do all the work after her little adventure the day before, so she really needed to wake up as much as possible.
“Yeah, beats me.” Bjorn shrugged and took a bite out of whatever monstrous sandwich he’d prepared himself. “Must be some Alessian or Ayleid thing. I ‘unno. Kinda weird, ‘specially since Sun’s Dawn has like two fewer days than normal for no reason at all.” He paused for a moment and briefly looked off into the distance. “Though, now that I think about it, that sort of nonsense does seem like some shit elves would pull… Must be Ayleid.”
Azhani’s nose twitched in amusement. “Yes, that’s flawless reasoning there.” She looked down into her cup, now half-empty. Seemed like just two seconds ago it was full. However that all disappeared, it was delicious, and Azhani needed more, so she held out her hand and shook the cup. “Hm?”
Bjorn grabbed the pitcher they’d been drinking from, but stopped and raised an eyebrow just before bringing it over. “You sure ‘bout that? I mean, with all the…” He gestured in the Khajiit’s direction and made a vague sound.
Her response was to flatten her ears and growl at him. “Do not mention that.”
The Dragonborn threw up his free hand and said, “Alright, alright. But, uh… what specific incident is it that we’re not talking ab-“ He cut himself off when he noticed Azhani extending her claws. “Uh, okay, yeah, all of them, alright, sure. Here you go.”
Azhani perked up instantly when her tea was refilled, and she gave an exaggerated purr. “Thank you, Dragonborn.”
“Uh-huh.” Bjorn leaned forward on the counter just enough to be at Azhani’s eye level. “Man, this is all wrong. I’m a dragon, I shouldn’t be afraid of some cat, eh?” He let his last few words trail off into a chuckle.
“Cats have claws, Bjorn.” Azhani tipped her head a little to the side, tripping up on the unfamiliar pronunciation of his name. “Can’t be a dragon with no throat to Shout with.”
“Oh, hey, you know, funny thing about that is that, uh…“ His attention was drawn away from the conversation when the inn’s doors opened. “Uh, hey, take over, will you?” He didn’t wait for a response before running off to greet his returning housecarl.
Azhani shrugged and looked over to the door, giving a little wave to Lydia and watching as the Dragonborn directed her to a table. Then she hopped over the counter and planted herself in the stool that would have usually been occupied by Keerava. She watched in silence, sipping at her tea while the two Nords had what looked to be a fairly energetic conversation. They were audible enough with how close they were to the bar, but Azhani wasn’t terribly interested, instead focusing on her tea and some of the things she’d brought down with her – her calendar and another book by Quill-Weave, once again borrowed from the Dragonborn.
After a few minutes of absentminded calendar-flipping and half-hearted reading, Bjorn got her attention again, speaking right to her. When Azhani looked over at him, he and Lydia had both stood up, Lydia headed for the stairs. “Hey, we’ve got, uh, some stuff to do today,” the Dragonborn said. “So you’re gonna be on your own all day. That gonna be alright?”
Azhani nodded and turned back to her book with a weak thumbs-up from the hand carrying her tea. She could hear the sound of his heavy feet taking the stairs, then several minutes later two sets of feet came down and over to the door. The Khajiit looked over and waved at them, the Dragonborn giving his typical half-assed salute in response– though now it looked out-of-place, as he was dressed in the same robes he’d worn at the summit at High Hrothgar, and Lydia was wearing formals of her own.
“You know you are going to be robbed wearing clothes like that, yes?” She couldn’t help it – she knew more than enough about that sort of lifestyle to tell that wearing fancy clothes in Riften meant you were either Maven Black-Briar or a mark. Considering Bjorn and his housecarl were definitely not Maven Black-Briar…
“Eh, if I were anyone else, yeah, I probably would. But nobody’s gonna fuck with the Dragonborn. See you later.” He gave another one of those salutes and followed Lydia outside. When the door closed, Azhani shrugged and turned back to her book, taking another sip of her tea as she did.
It must have been an hour or two before anyone started coming in, and for the most part Azhani didn’t have to pay much attention to them. Reach under the counter, grab a bottle, hand it over, get back to reading. Nobody had ordered any food, so aside from brewing more tea for herself there wasn’t anything all that complicated to do – for some reason people didn’t seem to be very interested in having someone covered in fur cook for them.
Nothing complicated until some very oddly-dressed men came in, anyways. A group of four had found their way into the inn and grabbed seats together at the bar, attracting Azhani’s attention just with how they looked. Their apparent leader – or at least, the first among them to take his seat – was mostly wearing the chitinous armor the Dunmer had made a tradition of, and the other three had bits of leather and steel. What was peculiar about him and his friends, though, was that they were all wearing various bits and pieces of Dwarven make, clearly worked on and polished up after they’d been collected. The leader wore the most of this old brass gear; his whole right arm was covered in Dwarven armor, he had a brass plate serving as a collar that attached to a piece for his left shoulder, and if his armor continued under his little kilt, his legs were covered in brass as well.
Three of the men had taken off their helmets; only their leader kept his, and it would have matched with the traditional style of what the Dunmer called “bonemold”, if not for the fact that the bottom of the helmet had been cut off so that the leader’s mouth was exposed. That blue chin of his was the only indication of the leader’s race while he remained silent – his companions included a Redguard, another Dunmer, and some lighter human that Azhani wasn’t sure of.
The lead Dunmer only spoke when his friends had settled down, and when he did speak his voice was deep, rough even for a Dunmer, and tinted with age. “Muthsera,” he started with a bow of his head, “you wouldn’t happen to have flin, would you?”
Azhani took a moment to process the appearance of these adventurers, speaking quickly once she realized she had to answer a question. “Oh, uh, sorry, yes, somewhere around here, yes.” Then she got up, turned around, and went to looking through shelves while the faceless Dunmer called out to her again.
“Two of those then, and two of whatever beer you have, please, sera.”
“Anything?” Azhani paused for a moment and looked over at the adventurer, who nodded silently. “Yes, just a minute.”
It took a little bit of rummaging to find Talen’s stash of foreign liquors – Azhani didn’t recognize half of them, and only even managed to find flin because she happened to recognize the Daedric F on the label. She grabbed a bottle of that and a pair of tall glasses, handing both off to the lead explorer, then reached under the counter for a bottle of whatever – smelled like beer, so good enough – and some mugs. The leader distributed the drinks and the adventurers gave a toast, then started talking amongst themselves.
Except the leader. The leader, drink in hand, was ignoring his friends in favor of the Khajiiti barmaid.
“So,” he said. “Been hearing a lot about the Dragonborn since I got to Skyrim. Know anything about that, sera?”
“Hmmn?” Azhani looked over at him and nearly choked on her tea – she wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to her about something other than drinks, and she’d just settled down again to relax in relative quiet. “Aahn, sorry. Um, the Dragonborn, you said? Yes, he actually lives here.”
The adventurer’s helmet hid his expression, but his voice indicated his shock just as well. “Wha-? Th- the- what? The Dragonborn? Lives here?”
The Khajiit gave a little nod. “Yes, for the last maybe, two, three months, perhaps? He is busy today, though. This one thinks he will be very busy for a while after today, too.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“For the past couple of weeks he was recovering from a fight with… what, Alduin? He is just waiting until he is healthy enough to fight Alduin again, and that is probably soon.”
“I see.” The Dunmer put his free arm up on the counter and rested his head in his hand. “I was hoping to meet him, actually, but that’ll have to wait, it seems. Wouldn’t want to delay a Hero any longer than necessary, after all.”
Azhani’s head found its way to a slight angle. “You could stay here until he has time, if you can afford it. Plenty of rooms open.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine, I was- well, we were just passing through, never planned on staying. My friend here-“ The adventurer grabbed the shoulder of the Redguard next to him. “-suggested we stop in for a drink, but we’re heading right back out afterwards.”
“Mhm.” Azhani made some vaguely-affirmative noise through a mouthful of tea from the cup she’d just refilled. “So, you are adventurers, yes? Going anywhere good?”
“Adventurer is… yeah, sure, you could say that. The Breton over there is more of a tomb raider than anything, but yeah. I’m actually on my way out to the shrine to Azura over in Haafingar, for right now. No idea how far these guys are going to follow, but that’s where I’m headed.”
The Khajiit shrugged while the adventurer topped off his own drink. “Azurah is as good a reason as any to go that far.”
“Yeah, she’s… she’s pretty important to the Khajiit religion, isn’t she?” Azhani nodded, and the adventurer continued. “Quite important to me, too, though I admit I haven’t been acting like it. Hopefully, if I go to her shrine, she’ll see I’m still here, still dedicated to her. And hopefully she’ll share just a little bit of her wisdom.”
Azhani shuffled around a bit in her seat and looked into the pitcher of tea. Empty. “Then good luck with that. This one has not known Azurah to talk to people very often.”
The other, younger dark elf chimed in at this point. “Some of the Daedra are more than happy to speak to the Dunmer, especially once we nixed the Tribunal.” He finished off his own drink and looked over to the more heavily-armored one. “Anyways, about time we head out again, isn’t it?”
The leader looked back at him. “Yes, we should be going. You guys set?” The two humans with him broke away from their own conversation and nodded at him, then the group stood and replaced their helmets while the leader slid a handful of coins across the counter. It was far too much for the little they’d bought, and Azhani was about to mention it when the lead adventurer addressed it himself. “I trust that’ll cover everything, and a little something for yourself, right?” He stood up himself and bowed his head, then turned to lead the other three out. “Thank you, sera.”
“Uh, no problem…” Azhani pawed through the money she’d been given while the adventurers made their way outside. Most of the coins seemed to be fairly old, and the images on them were different from what Azhani had seen throughout the Empire. The head-side had a picture of some elf instead of the Emperor, and the tail-side had replaced the Imperial Dragon with a depiction of Azurah’s Star. “Money is still money,” she muttered, sliding the coins into a little box under the counter.
With nobody else at the bar, Azhani got up with a sigh and went to grab a broom. With it, she headed into the dining area and went about cleaning up after the few people who had come in and taken seats at proper tables, still not ordering anything that needed to be cooked. Fortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot to get at – on top of the fact that everyone seemed to have a craving for bread and cheese today, either the regular clientele knew not to screw around with the Argonians, or they’d come to fear the Dragonborn and what he’d do if they didn’t leave the place in good shape. Whatever the reason, those still present started to hurry up once they noticed Azhani’s approach, and the few other tables that showed any signs of sentient activity were largely only marked by plates and bowls and a handful of gold.
Azhani first went around and collected all the payment that had been left behind, dropping it all into the large pocket of her apron. Then all the dishes were piled up onto an unoccupied table, and she got to work on the floors – which really amounted to absentmindedly pushing the broom around and waiting for something to happen, as there wasn’t a whole lot to clean up other than dust from overnight, and when the last few patrons who’d decided to take tables cleared out, they hardly even left crumbs behind.
That left Azhani alone in the bar with only her thoughts for company, at least until lunchtime proper came around. Of course, her thoughts right now weren’t the best friends – with no distractions, she found herself ever so slightly pressing her legs together and mentally berating herself: ‘That was a lot of tea, dumbass, of course this was going to happen’, and other such lovely mental notes.
Rude though her mind may have been, it was right. She should have known better. Things were going to get very bad very quickly, and it was her damn fault. Azhani groaned, speaking a drawn-out swear in Ta’agra. It wasn’t too bad yet, at least, but just knowing she couldn’t do anything about it was already making it worse.
Theoretically she could run upstairs, take care of herself, and be back down in five minutes or less, but both Keerava and the Dragonborn had put their trust in her to run the inn like a professional. And a professional wouldn’t run off and leave the bar unattended just because she had to take a leak. On the other hand, the place was totally empty, and there was very little chance of anyone save for the handful of regulars showing up, so odds were good she’d have plenty of time to sneak off. But what if someone did come in? She didn’t want to be responsible for turning away customers that thought the place was closed; or worse, her absence from behind the counter could very well mean anyone who came in would steal drinks or money and be out before Azhani knew they were even there.
So, realistically, she had no options. She could only hope Bjorn would return in time – and for all she knew he and Lydia had already finished whatever they’d gone out to do, and the Dragonborn was just stalling for time because he wanted a nice show when he got back. The more she thought about that, the more it made sense, but he wouldn’t really do that, would he?
‘Sure, he’s an insufferable pervert,’ she thought, ‘but he’s not really a bad guy. He’ll be back and everything will be fine, I’m sure … I hope.’
For now, she needed a distraction, and she’d quite fortunately brought one with her. Taking her seat behind the bar, she picked up her book and flipped through it to find where she’d left off, pausing just for a moment on the very first page. This book, like the one she’d read on the way to and from the war meeting, was also apparently from the nascent Fourth Era – dedicated again to “K M”, with no other indication, as the Dragonborn said to expect.
It still made just as much sense as it did last time – none – so Azhani quickly moved on to where she was, shuffling around a bit to forget why she needed the distraction, eventually getting comfortable enough to lose track of time…
… until people started to come in and order drinks, meaning she had to pay attention to liquids again. For the most part it was a fairly easy task of simply handing out bottles and mugs, and glaring at Romlyn Dreth to silence him for once, but even so, the sounds of people pouring their own drinks from the bottles she’d given them weren’t doing her any favors. Azhani crossed her legs and draped her tail over her lap, hoping nobody would think anything of it while she tried to focus at least a little bit on her book. She was still well aware of the peculiar looks she was getting from people who came up to the bar, but it was more likely that they weren’t expecting a Khajiit to be serving them drinks – and not at all related to the fact that Azhani could just barely keep still, subconsciously and constantly jiggling one leg or twitching her tail.
Couldn’t be that much longer. By now her book was essentially just a request not to talk to her – she’d been on the same page for who-knows-how-long, and it was obvious that she wasn’t even looking at it, focusing instead on the door and the people coming in and out.
More accurately, on the occasional person. This was the Bee and Barb, after all. It was one of the better establishments in town, but that wasn’t saying much, and it still wasn’t terribly popular. But that didn’t much matter. Azhani wasn’t looking for customers; they’d just walk up to her anyways, and she’d tune in just enough to hear what they wanted, then try to tune back out again to save herself from the sounds. If she did everything right, she wouldn’t have to pay attention to them at that point, and she really didn’t want them to pay attention to her either. She’d managed to get her leg under control and stop it from bouncing, but her tail and ears were still twitching, ideally in a way that looked normal.
Azhani had no idea how much time had passed by the time she finally tore her eyes away from the door. Staring at it wouldn’t do her any favors – though she’d definitely keep her ears focused on it. Instead, she lowered her eyes to her seat, pretending like she’d gone back to reading. The Khajiit’s lower belly was visibly rounded and she didn’t dare touch it, for if she was full enough to get her tiny frame to bulge then she was also full enough to lose it if that delicate system were to be disturbed. In theory, anyways, considering in reality her body wouldn’t allow her to release her waters somewhere she might be seen. For a moment she glanced over her shoulder at the little patch of floor that opened up to lead far below the ground to the dungeon under the basement, looking away again almost immediately. It was tempting, sure, but disappearing like that would be incredibly conspicuous, and that would be just as bad as being in public.
So she just looked at her legs. They were locked together, constantly rubbing against each other, but if Azhani wanted to do more to help the pressure, that had to stop for a moment. She promised herself it would only be for a second, summoning with a quiet growl the strength to hold her legs still and spread them ever so slightly apart. Then she gingerly raised herself up off the barstool just far enough to fold her tail beneath her and pull it up between her legs, immediately dropping back to her seat and snapping her legs together again as soon as that was done. At any other time, Azhani would certainly have been bothered by the pain of her whole body weight resting on such a delicate instrument, but given her situation it was the more tolerable alternative.
Azhani then slowly brought a hand down to grab her tail once she was sure nobody was paying attention, carefully pulling on it so that it could apply a little more pressure for just a little while – she’d have to let go eventually and dedicate both hands to her job, but what little her tail was doing for her made her feel a lot better. And of course it didn’t seem like even remotely long enough when she had to release her grip as someone she vaguely recognized as a regular ordered a new drink.
Just her luck that it was something that wasn’t kept under the counter, so she’d need to go stand up to get. There was no way she’d be able to stand straight in her current condition – in fact, if not for the fact that she was in public, she was certain that she’d explode as soon as she got up – and she wouldn’t be able to move as slowly as she’d need to, but she had to try anyways. Once again she pried her legs apart and forced herself to her feet, leaning forward with her hands on the counter as the change of position caused a great surge of need to assault her, though only for a moment.
When it passed, Azhani’s tail flew back to its normal position and she turned around as casually as possible, taking weak strides that would have looked like a human trying to emulate the way she walked normally – a comparison she’d only even been made aware of when her sister had teased her for her posture on their way through town after a long day out together, as if she hadn’t been waddling along herself. But why was she thinking about that? She really hoped the Dragonborn would get back soon; it was no good if she was desperate enough for it to mess with her head. At least she was still clear enough to know what she was looking for and where to find it.
More excellent fortune for her that this particular drink was found in one of the lower cabinets. As sure as she was that her body wouldn’t let her break just yet, she really would have preferred not to tempt fate, but alas. It was the only way, so she forced herself into a squat as she pawed through the various bottles and tools in the cabinet to find what she needed. And though she tried to stay composed, her legs shook constantly again and her tail was absolutely furious. What Azhani really needed wasn’t in this cabinet, but right now she had to take things one step at a time. Get the booze and stand up again. She had to rid herself of that horrible feeling that her ocean of what once was tea was right on the border between in her body and in her pants, and for as long as she was in a squatting position her body would be trying to tell her that it was time to let loose.
Perhaps the only real bit of good luck for Azhani was that it didn’t take long to locate the requested drink, and as soon as it was in hand she worked her way back up to a standing position, knocking the cabinet doors closed with a foot once she’d composed herself. Then she walked back to the bar with that same silly stride as before, setting the bottle down on the counter and leaning against it with one hand. The other pulled out a glass from one of the shelves below, and when that joined the bottle she was tempted to let that hand help out between her legs.
But, no, this was one of those drinks where it was for whatever reason universally considered good form to never under any circumstances allow the guest to pour for themselves. Azhani didn’t really have much of a choice but to tear open the bottle in what was absolutely the incorrect manner, then subject herself to the deepest and foulest realm of Oblivion: pouring something into something else. Realm of the Daedric Prince of full bladders, of course. Sangiin, perhaps?
Azhani tried very hard to not listen to what she was doing, but had to force herself to look directly at it to ensure it was done right. It was really only a few seconds she was standing there with her legs knotted and ears conspicuously flattened, and Azhani knew that, but refused to accept that it was anything short of an eternity before she got to slide the glass over. Her tail went right back between her legs as she prepared to sit down again, but she was distracted by the door opening.
In came a very large, very loud man with his arms around a rather mundane-looking Nord lady. The man released his partner and waved her off in the direction of the stairs before quickly approaching the bar.
The Dragonborn spoke quickly, starting to back away almost as soon as he came close enough for Azhani to hear. “Hey, do you think you’d be alright for another hour or two?”
“Uh…” Technically, she’d be able to last until she broke something. She wasn’t near that point yet, so, sure, she could take another two hours. “Ah, well, I think s-”
“Great, I’ll try not to take too long.” He didn’t let her finish his statement and was already headed to the stairs when she tried to respond.
“W-wait, but I-“ But he was already gone, so Azhani just trailed off and muttered the rest to herself. “But I have to… nnn…” She straightened up and had her hands in tight fists at her sides. Her legs were inseparable and shaking as always while her tail was forced to keep down. People were looking at her, that much was certain, but perhaps they were merely brief looks of concern before they went back to their business. No doubt these people had seen Keerava in similar situations millions of times, no reason to act like this was any different. Staring wouldn’t accomplish anything anyways, and there was nothing any of them could do to help. Well, aside from all of them instantly leaving the bar so Azhani could run upstairs – or more likely to one of those washtubs in the kitchen area, at the rate things were going. And they just looked more and more appealing as time went on…
When the present wave of desperation passed, Azhani threw herself into her seat again, back in that same position as before, legs locked together with her tail firmly between them. Nothing she could do now, and now she’d definitely attracted the attention of at least everyone at the bar proper. Preferring very much to not deal with whatever they’d say or think of her, she grabbed her book again to at least pretend to be distracted. At this point it wasn’t likely that distractions would even work anyways. The only thing she could think of was how badly she needed to pee and how she’d just missed her opportunity to deal with it. All she had to do was say “No”, just say she wouldn’t be able to wait, and she’d be upstairs by now. But then that wasn’t true, and even with the state she was in she couldn’t bring herself to lie to someone she tentatively considered something resembling a friend. It was likely only late afternoon, so Azhani was sure she’d waited much longer in the past – like that one instance in that one province with the big white tower that she didn’t want to think about – so there was no doubt that she could wait this time too.
But of course, just because she could didn’t mean she should. Not like she had a choice, though, not with people around, but she really should have known better than to keep getting herself into these situations. She was twenty-two, for gods’ sakes, there was no excuse for the fact that it was easier for her to count the number of times it wasn’t her fault she either outright pissed herself or came close to it in the past three months. She could do it on one hand, even, which really only made it worse. And as much as she would have loved to blame the tea for being delicious and not herself for drinking way too much of it, this was definitely not going to increase that count.
All that was left was to hope that the Dragonborn would be done with whatever he was doing before Azhani ended up in real pain. But if he was doing what she thought he was doing – and he was, surely; no way would he be that excited for anything else – there was no way to predict when that would be. Azhani shoved a hand to her mouth to suppress a groan while she leaned a little bit backwards. It was bad enough knowing she’d gotten herself into this situation. What made it worse was that this wasn’t something she could get herself out of. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and she couldn’t even rely on her body giving out on its own without doing real damage. Even as a kid she never felt so out of control, and that was when she lived under the Thalmor dictators. She didn’t have a choice, and she hated it. Nothing she could do but wait.
Wait and give this guy a drink. Why did this guy ask her for a drink? Couldn’t he see she was not in the mood to deal with people right now? At least it was something simple, but even the little bit of leaning forward she’d have to do to reach under the counter felt like it added too much pressure. Pressure that wasn’t going to go anywhere – at least if she could wet herself just a little bit it’d be more tolerable, but that wasn’t about to happen, and her only hint of relief was when she sat back up again with a bottle in her hand and the extra pressure was gone, leaving behind the pressure of the entire Abecean Sea inside her. A marked improvement, truly. She slid the bottle over to whoever it was that had asked for it, and got money tossed onto the counter in return. At least she wouldn’t have to write anything down to keep a tab on this guy, but she’d still have to tolerate the sounds that came with being given a bottle of booze. This time she didn’t have to look at it, which helped quite a bit.
Her gaze ended up directed downwards again – her legs were doing what they had been the whole time, except they’d gotten faster, and her little balloon seemed to have gotten just slightly bigger. Azhani lifted herself off the seat for just a moment, quickly swapping her tail for one of her hands, digging in as well as she could without actually shoving her hand down her pants. Come to think of it, there was a part of her now that wasn’t there before that was tempted by such an idea. She was very familiar with this part of herself – it was a regular visitor, and now that she thought about it, it had been about six months since the last time it made itself known. And if it was here again now… Just more trouble on the way for her. Great.
That could be ignored for now, though. Her other hand hesitantly came to rest on her belly, just lightly enough to feel what was going on without disturbing anything. She couldn’t tell for sure without pressing on it – and there was no way that was going to happen – but it still seemed quite soft. Azhani let out a quiet mix of a whine and a growl. That meant there was still a good deal of room, so she could very well be kept waiting for a long time yet. More optimistically, it meant she wasn’t at her worst and would probably still be able to walk upstairs and look at least halfway normal if the Dragonborn came down soon.
But he still wasn’t coming – at least, not… yeah, Azhani was in for some very familiar trouble soon if that was how her thoughts were going. That line of thinking wouldn’t do her any good anyways. She had to focus on waiting. The thing that she’d be doing whether she wanted to or not. She had to focus on it and find a way to make time seem to go faster. As it was she couldn’t tell if it had been an hour or five minutes since the Dragonborn and Lydia had returned – hopefully it wasn’t the latter. Azhani threw one leg over the other, crushing her hand between her thighs. Between that and her tail, she’d be quite sore in the morning…
When she looked up again, she saw that there was nobody left at the counter. Money and some empty mugs or bottles, but no people. Leaning forward as far as she could without hurting herself, she looked over into the dining room. Quite a few people with drinks, and a handful had little plates of whatever food there was in the place that Azhani didn’t need to prepare herself. Looking off in the other direction, there wasn’t anyone hanging around by the door. Still in public, sure, but this was the best she was going to get if she had no idea how much longer she’d be expected to wait.
Another look in all directions to confirm that at least the general area was clear, and Azhani got up carefully, now bent forwards a little to allow her hand to do what it had to. Then she turned around and quickly scanned the kitchen for anything appropriate. Or, more accurately, the closest container that nobody would have to drink out of later. There was a little wooden tub on the floor by one of the counters back there, probably what would have normally been used for dishwashing, but now it was empty. The Khajiit made her way over to it with that same silly walk as before, bending over with a groan once she reached it so that she could grab one end of it with her free hand. Dragging it back over to the bar took a bit longer than getting to it in the first place, but she eventually dropped it by the barstool she’d been abusing with her bouncing for however long.
Then she sat down again, pulling the hand out from between her legs and instead grabbing her waistband with it. One last scan of the area to confirm that, yes, this counted as private, and her other hand joined in. In one slow motion she lifted herself off the stool and dragged her pants and underwear down to her knees, then sat down again and moved forward enough that she was pretty sure she’d get at least most of it into the tub on the floor.
And then she shut her eyes, shoved a hand into her mouth to bite down on, and relaxed. There was a muffled moan into her hand as she felt the flood just about to break free, and then…
“Hey.”
Of course. Azhani very nearly jumped, sliding back to sit entirely on the stool, which now was also host to a tiny puddle made by the spurt that was supposed to go into the bucket. She forced herself to stand up and hastily get redressed as the Dragonborn approached.
“You’re good to go,” he said. “I’ll take over from here for tonight.” There was a pause where neither of them said anything nor moved, so he spoke again. “You alright?”
Azhani had no idea what to feel right now. For one, she wanted to claw his eyes out for interrupting her. But then she’d also been given the opportunity she’d been waiting for the whole time. The obvious response was to stutter for a little bit before saying anything. “Uhm,” she finally said. “no, yeah, fine, thanks. I’ll just… Mhm.” Then she shuffled her way out from behind the counter and rushed to the stairs as quickly as she could in her state. Her regular walking speed, though it felt like sprinting. The actual climb up the stairs hurt even more than the walk over to them, but then it was a clear shot to her room.
Throwing herself at the door to open it with her shoulder, Azhani stumbled into her room and immediately stripped down again. All that was left was to squat down by her bed, reach underneath for… yes, there it was, right where it was supposed to be. With everything in position, there was no hesitation. Her stream started full-force immediately, and Azhani had to grab her muzzle with both hands to keep from crying out in ecstasy. And then she almost fell backwards, so one of those hands ended up supporting her from behind.
Azhani closed her eyes and let out a suppressed moan that trailed off into a purr that didn’t end when the flood finally tapered off. Shaking herself to throw off any excess drops, Azhani stood up and stretched, looking down to see what would have to be dealt with. It was good that she stopped when she did – any more and that little pot would have spilled over.
That definitely wasn’t normal for her, and as much as she hated to admit it, perhaps getting herself into terrible situations was actually working out well, in a really weird way that would probably turn on the Dragonborn and Keerava if they ever figured it out. She was still going to try to avoid getting into more trouble like that if she could, of course, but now she couldn’t deny that each time would help for future problems.
Edited September 15, 2018 by Sake
(see edit history) |
I gotta get better at not taking two months to update.
“Uh, hey, take over, will you?”
Lydia stood by the door and watched as the Dragonborn and that little Khajiit switched places at the bar – Azhani hopped on top of it and shuffled over to the far side while Bjorn simply walked around to get out, then headed over to Lydia.
“Hey.” He was avoiding eye contact for some reason and motioned in the general direction of a nearby table. “Here, uh, why don’t you sit down?”
Once they were seated, Lydia had to break the silence while Bjorn looked around aimlessly. “What, no drinks or anything?” She was joking, of course – a drink right now wouldn’t be the best of ideas considering she’d just finished a decent bit of travelling. Still, someone had to say something.
“Uh, well, I could get you something…” The Dragonborn was now looking at Lydia, still not quite making eye contact, and cleared his throat. “Ah, but, no, I actually wanted to, uh… Eh, you know what, it’d be a lot easier if I just got right to the point, so…” He dug around in his pockets for a little while, and when his hand came back up he dropped a round wooden amulet with a familiar holy symbol carved into it onto the table. Lydia glanced at it and shot a suspicious look at the Dragonborn.
“What is this?”
“Oh, that’s an-“
“I know what it is,” Lydia said, leaning forward. “I meant what are you doing?”
Bjorn waved a hand towards the amulet. “It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?”
“Sure, but…” Lydia sighed and put a hand to her head. “What made you think I would go along with this? It’s gonna take you more than a piece of wood to get what you’re asking for here.”
“I know, and I know I’ve been a complete ass the whole time I’ve known you-“
“Bit of an understatement there.”
“-but at the same time you’re pretty much the only person who actually tolerates my bullshit for some reason other than not wanting to be Shouted to pieces. We’re in this together and you know it.”
Lydia moved to say something, but paused, then shut up and nodded. “Alright, fine. But so far all you’ve used me for is carrying all the crap you don’t want to be bothered with. I don’t see any reason to believe that would change.”
“Okay, first off, that’s exactly what you signed up for. Maybe not specifically with me, but with the Jarl, you knew what you were getting into. Second, you know by now that you have the option to not do things. Don’t go blaming me for your choices and the line of work you went into.”
“Fair enough, but why should it be any different after… this…?”
“Ah, well, because,” Bjorn said, holding up a finger as if stating irrefutable truth. “This situation we’re in now, it’s because someone else told you that you had to be here and do all this stuff. But this… this would be entirely up to you. I wouldn’t want to do anything that would get you to change your mind and decide, actually, no, you don’t want this.” He took a deep breath and continued slowly. “Look, ultimately, you’ve been the one consistent thing in my life since I got here. I am not gonna let that get away. I wouldn’t do anything that would make me lose you.” Then he looked down while Lydia sat in silence.
She finally answered, speaking with a tone one would expect more from the Dragonborn than from her. “Okay, fine.” With a cheeky grin she added, “You’re not half bad anyways. I guess I could do a lot worse.” Then she held up her hands. “And I guess I did sort of willingly follow you to certain death a couple hundred times, so you must be doing something right. So, when are we going to…?”
Bjorn perked up almost immediately. “Oh, well, we might be able to do a little something today, actually. Might have to wait a while but there’s some other stuff I’d like to take care of too, so we can get all that done. You just go put on something nice, I’ll come get you in a bit. Hey-“
He’d stopped talking to Lydia, so she gave a vaguely-affirmative shrug and headed upstairs, and when she got to her room she dumped her bag onto the floor, tossing whatever bits of armor she could easily remove down to join it. Then she turned to the little wardrobe in her room – more like a glorified box, but still – and looked through what little she had. “Something nice”? She didn’t exactly have formalwear, never having been expected to actually do anything requiring it before now, but quickly pawed through the handful of clothes arranged in the… whatever it qualified as. There weren’t terribly many options, so she just picked the one and only dress there, a simple little black thing, easy to move in, comfortable, but still looked good.
This was laid out on the bed, and Lydia sat down next to it, fiddling around with the strings on her sides to remove her armor. When both pieces of it fell clattering to the floor, she kicked off her boots and worked her way out of all the requisite padding and everything under it, ending up more or less naked when everything was dealt with. Oh, sure some things still needed to be covered, at least for practical reasons, but it was close enough. And as she stood there in her underwear, she was reminded of the consequences of her travelling – something she should have dealt with outside of town, but had decided against doing due to her proximity. Well, here was the perfect opportunity, and yet…
Perhaps she shouldn’t. It was, after all, well under control, if slightly annoying. But more than that, this was a special day… apparently. Sure, it was weird and a bit of a surprise to receive a marriage proposal practically immediately upon returning to town, but it was still special.
So why not give him a pleasant surprise for afterwards?
It took a couple of hours to actually get to the temple. The Dragonborn’s business included walking up to the blacksmith, handing over a little sheet of paper with his measurements on it, and demanding head-to-toe ebony armor – for the both of them. He’d dropped a large pouch of coins onto the counter when the smith tried to confirm that the Dragonborn knew what he was asking for and pointed out the difficulty of just acquiring the materials. The smith didn’t really have much of a choice at that point, but as he didn’t know Lydia’s dimensions, she spent at least a good hour there just being measured.
Then it was just a matter of wandering around town doing small trades and the like – Bjorn had sold his knife to someone and hired a courier to go fetch a different one from all the way in Whiterun, paying the kid extra to ensure that this particular dagger be brought over with the greatest of care, in the special box it already would have been kept in anyways. Lydia had seen it in its case once or twice – strange-looking thing, it was. Hardly looked like a real blade, considering the business end of it seemed to be made of some sort of rock. But if the Dragonborn said it was a knife, then it was a knife.
In any event, by the time they finally reached the temple after everything else was done, Lydia’s minor annoyance had become quite a bit more annoying. Tolerable, yes, but now it would be the center of attention if Lydia weren’t actively doing something else, and even then it’d still be an ever-present reminder of her situation. All for a good cause, though.
Still, nobody ever said she had to pay attention to anything in spite of it, so she was only vaguely aware of what was going on at the temple. It was apparently empty, and she could hear the Dragonborn speaking with Maramal, who eventually hesitantly agreed to do a brief ceremony for them while nothing else was happening.
That did take a few minutes to get everything set up, though, and in the meantime Lydia was shuffling around ever so slightly, just to have something to do. She did have to stop once everything was ready, now needing to stand as still as possible right next to Bjorn in front of the altar while Maramal droned on. If she were to be honest with herself, she wouldn’t have listened to a word he said anyways, but now at least she had some justification for it – it wasn’t quite bad yet, but she still did have to focus to avoid moving around subconsciously.
She heard the Dragonborn say something, then Maramal said something else and waited. After a moment, Lydia felt something prodding her in the side – Bjorn had elbowed her to draw her attention back to the real world, where Maramal, among others, were looking at her expecting a response. Blushing, she said something to the effect of “yes”, then Maramal said something else, and before she could fully process what was going on Bjorn had pulled her in for a kiss. She put her arms around him and returned the gesture, then the two broke off after a minute. Bjorn handed over some money to Maramal as a “donation” to the temple, then grabbed Lydia by the arm and excitedly led her back to the inn.
She was left waiting in Bjorn’s – no, their room for a moment while he said… something or other to Azhani. It wasn’t important. What was important was that Lydia was sitting on a bed with her dress and everything under it tossed off to the side of the room. It was cold, and she had her hand between her legs for… several reasons, actually, not the least of which was because if she moved that hand a little higher she’d feel the ever-so-slight distension of her lower abdomen that made visible her predicament.
She could wait, though. Would be better for both of them if the Dragonborn had his fun with this. Lydia moved over to lie on her back, wiping her hand on the sheets. It was hard to ignore the pressure now, but at least this made it more bearable. Bjorn entered soon after, locking the door behind him, and Lydia shuffled around a bit, looking up at him silently. He looked her over as he worked his way out of his coat and the shirt beneath it, chuckling once he got to her midsection.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Lydia responded with an innocent grin betrayed by her eyes. “I have no idea what it is you imply, master. I am but a poor…” She paused for a moment to consider how to replace the original line, but when she looked at Bjorn he was clearly trying to suppress laughter. “Ah, fuck it,” she said. “I’ve got a pretty good idea where this is going to go.”
“Well, it’s not going to go anywhere if I have anything to say about it.” He stood over the bed, looking down, with his crossed arms just barely concealing the great scar across his chest that still seemed fresh. “Now then, let’s see here…” Bjorn leaned forward a little and laid one hand on Lydia’s bulge, applying just a little bit of pressure.
“Ah…” Lydia’s legs came together as a response, then parted shortly after the pressure was removed. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what? This?”
“A-aah!” Her legs twisted and she tried to sit up, but the Dragonborn’s other arm blocked her.
“Hm…” He slowly removed his hands, allowing Lydia to grab at herself. “That’s not all that solid just yet, and if you’ve still got everything under control after that…” Bjorn looked at her with a wicked grin. “Then I don’t think it’s as bad yet as you’re pretending it is.”
“Hmph.” Lydia only spoke once she’d recovered. “Are you going to just tease all night or what?”
“Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.” Bjorn watched as Lydia rolled her eyes at his choice of quote. “Ah, but I suppose we could find a way to speed this up, hm?” Then he walked across the room to his bag of adventuring junk, digging through it until he pulled out a flask. He shook it and, apparently satisfied, brought it back over to Lydia and handed it to her. “Here, drink this.”
Lydia sat up slowly and grabbed the flask, opening it and looking inside. It was still mostly full. “All of it?”
“Well, not all at once, but a good bit of it right now, yeah.” He waited while Lydia looked between him and the drink, then spoke again when he felt he’d waited enough. “Unless, of course, you wanna quit.”
Looking between the flask and her new husband one last time, Lydia raised the flask as if in a toast, then chugged a significant portion of it with her other hand raised in a world-famous one-fingered gesture. And of course she immediately regretted her decision – not the latter part, which seemed to amuse Bjorn more than anything else. Oh, no, the problem here was that she’d decided to drink what she’d been given, and not only was it alcoholic but it also seemed to be going directly where it was least welcome. Fantastic combination, really… for the other person in the room.
Even so, she probably would have downed it all just to prove a point, if not for the sudden surge that caused her to stiffen, throwing her free hand between her legs and forcing the flask away from her mouth. The lower hand felt warm and wet almost instantly, and Lydia’s leg twitched as she felt another leak about to break free. So she pressed harder, though evidently not enough to keep a new burst of warmth away from her hand.
“What, already?” The Dragonborn had clearly meant it as a joke, but the touch of disappointment in his voice was real. “Sure hope you didn’t mess up these really nice sheets I’ve got here…”
Lydia blushed as she looked back at the flask, handing it off to Bjorn again. “So this is how we’re spending the night, huh?”
“Feh, maybe an hour if you’re lucky, am I right?” Bjorn gave a crooked smirk as Lydia worked her way into lying down again. “And in any case I probably should deal with that… situation downstairs, so I wouldn’t be able to spend too long messing around up here anyways…”
“You’re seriously still – aah-“ Lydia knotted her legs and took a moment to recover from a sudden urge. “S-still chasing after the cat? Really?”
The Dragonborn leaned in close enough for Lydia to feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. “Oh, now why would I do something like that when I’ve got you right here, hm? And, anyways,” he added, straightening up again, “it’s not like it was ever going to get serious. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with the shit she gets herself into. For now, though… I’m not sure that’s where your hands are supposed to be.”
“Yeah, well, that’s where they’re staying.”
“Mm, is that so? Didn’t think a such a strong lady would ever need to use her hands.” He ran a hand down one of her arms, stopping at and lightly grabbing her wrist. “And, besides, you’ve still got to finish that drink you started, so I know it can’t be that bad yet.”
Lydia shook her head fervently. “Nope, nope, that’s- that’s not happening.”
“What a shame.” Bjorn’s grip on Lydia’s arm tightened and with his other arm he grabbed her free hand the same way. “Still, you know I’m gonna need these out of the way.” He encountered no resistance moving her arms to her chest – though when her hands left the precious area they were guarding, she pressed her legs together even tighter. His own hands wandered ever so slightly as he sat down next to her. “Y’know, that armor doesn’t really do these justice…” Lydia’s only response was a slight moan as the Dragonborn did his work, slowly shifting his hands lower until they found something else interesting. “Hm, this seems to have progressed nicely… But just to be sure…” He pressed on what he’d found, only to be greeted with a gasp from Lydia and a quiet pattering sound behind him for a second. Fortunately for her, the pressure was gone in an instant, but only because the Dragonborn had brought that same hand back up to block her own.
“Aah… I don’t think I can-“
“Shh. Not much longer for you, but…” The Dragonborn slipped out of his dress pants and positioned himself near Lydia’s legs almost in one motion. “You’re gonna have to move these.”
Lydia sat up just enough to look down at him. “B-but if I do that, I’ll-“
“I thought that was the point, hm? Or are you just too stubborn to give up now? Ah, but don’t worry-“ Bjorn grabbed her legs and gently set about trying to untie them. “I’ll help you if you need it, but you gotta get your legs out of the way first.”
“Nnn… Fine,” Lydia said, dropping back down to lie flat and surrendering her legs to the Dragonborn’s guidance. As soon as what little pressure they were applying disappeared, it was replaced with his hand – though it was hardly any help considering where his fingers were going. “Aah… Careful…”
“What, still not going to give up?” He shifted his hand to reduce the pressure on the outside, keeping up his work on the inside. The response was a brief jet soaking his hand and a groan from Lydia. “Guess not. I’ll just have to try harder.” He brought his free hand up and used it to press long and hard on her bulge – but even so the resulting stream only lasted three seconds at best before Lydia’s willpower took over again.
“Gods…” Lydia groaned as she fought to take back some control beyond just the few muscles below, though the Dragonborn blocked any attempt at external intervention. “Y-you’ll have to do better than that to get what you want.”
Bjorn removed his other hand, eliciting a slight gasp from Lydia, and leaned forward. “We’ll see about that.” Then he worked both arms under Lydia and picked her up, rolling the both of them over so that she was on top.
“What are you do- aaah!” The Dragonborn had pressed her close, holding her tight and letting her own body weight do the work for him. And it seemed his plan had worked, for there was a brief spurt that was followed by a steady, if weak, trickle. “Nn-haah…” Lydia’s head found its way to Bjorn’s shoulder, and her hands were firmly attached to his arms.
“Isn’t that better,” he whispered. “I’m sure you can imagine how good it would be if you just gave in completely.”
Lydia gave a weak struggle in the Dragonborn’s vice grip, still slowly and unwillingly relieving herself onto him. She sighed when she realized she’d already lost her little fight, and surrendered herself to what was already happening anyways. Pressing her face close to the Dragonborn’s neck, Lydia let out a muffled groan as she gave up her last scraps of control. The little trickle soon turned into a stream and then a torrent.
And then there was a Dragon inside her. |
This definitely still exists. And for the record, this story now also exists in blog form, which is pretty much the superior format since a lot of stupid errors earlier on have been corrected there and it's a nice consistent read with no interruptions by author's notes or anything like that. From now on, whenever I post an update to the thread, the prior update will be posted to the blog - this gives me time to make corrections that I need to make but can't because the 24 hour editing window has passed. So this chapter will appear there once the next one is posted here. The link in my signature also now goes to the blog instead of this thread.
Lydia and the Dragonborn had gone down to the dining room early the next morning to prepare for the day ahead of them, the Dragonborn still rubbing his eyes; clearly he hadn’t slept very well, but he had a job to do – one more important than saving the world, of course, because he couldn’t be expected to do that if a barmaid were to murder him for letting her business fall apart in her absence. So he just trudged along to take up a position behind the bar and prepare for what was definitely not going to be an enjoyable day. Lydia followed along quietly, looking just as tired as her husband of just twelve hours.
Though one of them was obviously more awake than the other. Where Bjorn seemed to ignore everything around him except the bare minimum to walk properly, Lydia had noticed that the two weren’t alone. Nobody was supposed to be in the inn so early, and yet there was a figure seated at a table near the bar, hunched over what looked like a teapot with a cup in hand. Lydia halted for a moment and just stared at the figure, surprised more than anything else, though she quickly recognized the figure as the little Khajiiti lady who’d been living in the inn and working for Keerava. What was her name again? Azhani? That seemed right.
Lydia remained stationary as Azhani seemed to notice someone was looking at her; the Khajiit raised her head to look vaguely at the spectator and give something of a wave with the hand her cup was in. Her mouth was slightly open, and Lydia could tell by her movements that she was breathing heavier than normal. Azhani’s tail twitched with what Lydia recognized as annoyance – assuming Khajiit worked the same way as cats, at least, which could very well just be racist – though she didn’t seem to be mad at anything in particular, just sitting there occasionally halting her breathing long enough to drink some of her tea.
“Uh, hi,” was what Lydia came up with after a couple of minutes wherein the only sounds were the Khajiit’s breathing and the Dragonborn rearranging bottles in the kitchen. ”You alright?” She stepped a little closer to Azhani’s table, being sure to keep a safe distance in case the answer was a rather violent “no”.
The actual response was a shrug, a particularly-deep breath, and a quiet “Could be worse.” Then Azhani’s nose twitched and she sat up a little straighter, looking off in the direction of the kitchen and the promise of imminent breakfast. “All that food isn’t just for him, is it?”
Lydia gave a quick snort of laughter as she pulled up a chair at the opposite end of Azhani’s table. “You sure you’re fine?” She folded both arms in front of herself. “You don’t look very… uh… Oh, gods.” Lydia brought her hands to her face with a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re…”
“Yeah.” Azhani shrugged again and spoke slowly. “Pretty bad season this time, but… at least it isn’t every month.”
“Sounds fun,” Lydia said with just a grain of sarcasm. “So you’re out of commission, and I guess I could do your job for you. How long do you figure this is going to last? A week? Couple weeks?”
Azhani swirled her teacup around as if it were a wine glass. “Eh, worst part is over in two… three days maybe. After that, two weeks? But that part… will be fine.” Redirecting her gaze to the table, she added, quieter, “Would be over sooner if, eh… If I had help, yes?”
Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Can’t do that yourself?”
“With what? All I have is hands.” The Khajiit raised her free hand and flexed her claws. “And I don’t know about you but… I have been with enough Khajiit to know I’d rather just… deal with it than stick sharp things in there.”
“P-point taken.” Lydia’s response was followed by a nervous laugh as that mental image made her press her legs together. “But, uh… w-what was that about Khajiit? I mean, I’ve read the uncensored version of that one book about Barenziah, but I never thought they really had… uh, those.”
“Oh yeah, they have them, they’re only sharp going out, and you never get used to it. Glad I do not have to deal… with the Ba… ah?” Azhani jumped a bit in her seat as she looked up and a little to her left, guided by the smell of nearby food. “How… uh… how long have you been there?”
“Long enough to learn some things I really didn’t need to know… Even so, I think everyone can appreciate some breakfast.” The Dragonborn set down a tray of various meats and toast, along with a bottle of mead and a few mugs. He gave Lydia a little kiss on the cheek as he pulled up his own seat near her, leaving the ravenous carnivore at the other end of the table to her own devices. “Long day ahead of you, eh?”
“Oh, please, like taking care of a bar for a few days is going to be any worse than walking halfway across the province. Country. Whatever.” Lydia made herself a little sandwich while she spoke. “I’ve killed dragons with you, this is nothing.”
Bjorn yawned, then carefully grabbed whatever food he could without getting his arm clawed off, settling on a piece of toast. “Oh, you’ll wish we had a dragon to kill once you’ve had a couple hours of this. It’s either going to bore you into Oblivion or you’ll work your ass off for twelve hours only to find out that apparently that’s all for a half-Septim profit at the end of the day.” He looked over at Azhani, who stared back at him, her head tilted as she tried to breathe around a piece of bacon hanging from her mouth. “Though profit margins would probably look a lot better if one of us wasn’t getting everything she wants here for free.”
Azhani swallowed her bacon, and her tail’s thrashing grew faster as her ears flattened against her head. She spoke between deep breaths. “At least… when I take something… there’s still… something left.”
“Hah, true, and we both know what’d happen if you decided to take too much, right?” Bjorn continued quickly, ignoring Azhani digging her claws into the table. “Speaking of which, all that tea can’t be good for you, can it?”
The little Khajiit looked surprised to hear the genuine concern in the Dragonborn’s voice. “Perhaps not… But it helps me when I’m… like this. Keeps me, ah… calm, and awake. Doesn’t help the pain, and I’m still… hot, but… it is the reason I am… still wearing pants and not currently, ah, jumping at the, eh… nearest male.” When Azhani noticed the strange looks she was getting from across the table, she added, “Um, not that… that means, uh… anyone in… in particular…” Then she turned her attention back to the plate in front of her, trying not to look at anything else.
“Uh, alright, sure, if you say so. Just… don’t make it my problem.” Turning back to Lydia, the Dragonborn said, “As for you, you may be confident now, but we’ll see what sort of trouble you end up in later, won’t we?”
“Wow, never would have guessed that that’s what this is about.” Lydia rolled her eyes and folded her arms with a smirk on her face. “You ought to know me better than to underestimate me like that. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to put on a bit of a show for you if you really want one.”
“Well, I’ll never turn down some good theater… but I have a feeling it’ll be more than just theatrics by the end of the day.”
“We’ll see.” Lydia stood up and finished off what was left of her mead. “Should probably get started then, hm?”
As the two Nords left the table, Azhani stood up as well. “I suppose I should just… head back to bed then, yes? Not a very good idea, I think, to… sit around in a bar right now. So, um… don’t, uh, don’t tell anyone I’m here if… if anyone comes looking, hm?”
“Sure.” Bjorn nodded on his way over to the bar. “You want food or something brought up to you or…?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She gave a weak wave, then stopped on her way to the stairs and turned back around. “Or, no, uh… just bring up some tea every few hours, yes? But… leave it at the door, though.”
“You got it.”
To nobody’s surprise, the inn was fairly quiet for the first few hours after sunrise – the occasional regular had come in for breakfast, but that was about it. Lydia had gone up in the late morning to deliver Azhani’s tea, just to have something to do, and at her husband’s request had dropped off some of his old spellbooks as well. The Khajiit didn’t seem too enthusiastic about that during their brief conversation through the door, but expressed her sincere gratitude for the additional gift nonetheless.
When Lydia returned downstairs, she again found something to do just to keep herself busy – she’d grabbed a broom and was wandering around aimlessly, pushing around some dirt from overnight while the Dragonborn wiped down the bar and the kitchen counters.
“So,” Lydia called out after a few minutes of near-silence. “This is it, huh?”
“What, already sick of it?”
“Not as such, but I can definitely see what you were talking about earlier.” She shrugged and moved over to lean on the bar. “And I would definitely prefer to be back in action, you know?”
Bjorn sighed but didn’t stop working. “Yeah, me too. You’ve seen for yourself I’m just about well enough for it by now, so in a week or two when the Argonians get back, we’ve got our armor, and I’ve got that package from Whiterun, we’ll be on our way. Don’t you worry about that.”
“Oh, hey, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about that package. It’s not the real thing, is it?”
There was a brief pause while Bjorn stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Lydia with an intense gaze. “Absolutely authentic. Obviously, I took a pretty serious beating last time I fought Alduin. So I started thinking, if I’m going to do it again, I need every advantage I can get. Then it occurred to me… he’s not a dragon, he’s a god. And against a god, what advantage could be greater than one of Kagrenac’s Tools?”
Lydia had taken a seat while the Dragonborn was talking. “Well, with scars like that I sure hope your plan works out. But-“ She leaned forward in her seat. “We’re going to Whiterun anyways, why not just stop and pick it up while we’re there?”
“Experimentation, dear.” Bjorn walked out of the kitchen and laid a hand on the bar. “We both know the potential of that thing, and I’ve seen a bit of what it can do. But it’s weaker than the legends say it should be; it’s lost a lot of the magic it used to have. I want to know… is what’s left of it going to do anything to a dragon?” He sighed and shook is head. “I barely hurt Alduin at all last time, so it had better fucking be enough, but it was never meant to be used alone. Without Sunder and Wraithguard, I don’t know if it’ll live up to its reputation. I’d kill for something like Dawnbreaker, or Chrysamere, or Volendrung, anything. At least those I know work perfectly fine on their own.”
“So basically you’re going to find yourself a dragon and poke it with a really, really, really old magical crystal-knife, and hope it does something?” Sure, there was a more professional way to phrase the question, but someone had to do something to lighten the mood.
The little joke had worked, apparently, because the Dragonborn chuckled a bit before responding. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Still going on ahead even if it’s just as good as a regular dagger, of course, but I’d like to try it, at least.”
“Well,” Lydia said, standing up again. “Never thought I’d say this, but let’s hope we get attacked by a dragon, then.”
“Hah, yeah. Let’s pray for it.” Bjorn stepped back towards the kitchen, but stopped halfway there. “Hey, you want anything to drink? I could put on some coffee or more tea or something.”
Lydia put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow, a little smirk on her face. “Well, you sure would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Hey, I’m only suggesting it ‘cause it’ll help you stay awake.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m sure there aren’t any side effects that you’d be interested in.” The sarcasm in her voice was excruciatingly obvious. “But, actually, yeah, I could do with some coffee. And since you wanted a show anyway…”
Come lunchtime, the inn had become as busy as could be expected, and as usual populated almost exclusively by the handful of loyal customers that kept the place afloat. The coffee had started to catch up with Lydia, resulting in a tolerable feeling of fullness as she worked on finishing a generous helping of beer the Dragonborn had given her to go along with a meal. It was more than she’d normally drink at once, and she knew damn well why he’d seen fit to give her that much. Even so, she was content to finish it and was in no rush to do so – and Bjorn certainly wouldn’t be keen on moving things along too quickly either if it was a show he was after. Even now, he was looking over at her every so often while he told some other patron his war stories, though at the moment she was refusing to give him what he wanted.
Instead, she was just sitting there, spun around in her seat so that she was leaning back against the bar while she listened to the Dragonborn’s stories and waited for something to do. The current tale was something about the College of Winterhold and something related to Magnus. Lydia hadn’t been there for it so she found it interesting, if a bit predictable considering what she’d seen of her husband.
Her beer had run out by the time the dragon priest had entered Bjorn’s story, which meant that was a good enough time to get back to work. So she stood up, slid her mug across the counter to Bjorn so he could deal with it, and stretched. She couldn’t help but notice that he was watching, especially when she froze for a moment during her stretch as she disturbed something she shouldn’t have – but to his visible dismay she regained full control in an instant.
He was keeping an eye on her as she walked around to his side of the bar, speaking quietly to him as she passed: “Putting on some more tea.” Then, sure enough, she went straight for the kitchen and the set of tea-making equipment that had been set aside that morning – normally an extra cheaper set, but considering Azhani’s request, they’d decided it would be better to have the second one available at all times.
The Dragonborn did have to turn his attention back to the patrons to whom he was describing in excruciating detail the appearance of the Staff of Magnus once Lydia had passed him, so unfortunately could not see that she was standing a little stiffer than usual while she worked. And for her part, she was already starting to question why she’d figured a large beer was good idea when she still had hours to go. Filling the kettle and having to watch as it boiled wasn’t doing her much good, either. But still she remained strong, showing no signs of her state other than the subtle change in her posture of which only Bjorn would have been able to correctly identify the cause.
Lydia was able to relax somewhat once everything had been properly prepared and loaded onto a tray, so she now stood more naturally, the only hint of her state being the slightest of distensions in her abdomen, concealed by her apron such that even Bjorn didn’t notice it when she walked by. Or, if he did, he made no indication of it – he just looked her in the eyes for a moment and subtly laid a hand on her rear, letting her walk off afterwards with no comment.
Not like he needed to say anything anyways, considering her current problem was that she needed to climb stairs, a feat which he surely would have been more than content to watch in silence. Despite her outward confidence, Lydia did feel the need to stop just before the stairs and take a deep breath, shortly thereafter moving as quickly as the ever-growing weight between her legs would allow. Each step momentarily added more pressure, not enough to be critical, but enough to be quite uncomfortable and a rather ominous reminder that she’d have to make that trip several more times before the day was out.
This time, she reached the top of the stairs without spilling a drop of either of the liquids she was carrying, though that certainly wouldn’t be true the next time. Best not to dwell on that for now though – Lydia moved directly for Azhani’s room once she’d finished her climb, just to be done with this errand as fast as possible.
Knocking on the door, she said simply, “Tea’s here,” and was met with what sounded like a surprised response.
“Wha- oh. Lydia? D-don’t, uh, don’t leave yet…” This was followed by the barely-audible sound of light feet on wood, and after a moment the door opened just wide enough that Azhani could see what was on the other side, and Lydia could only see a pair of eyes. “I need a favor. You can, uh… come in for… for a minute, if you want, or…”
Lydia shrugged after a moment of thought. “Sure, why not?” Then the door swung open enough to walk through, and was closed again once Lydia had entered. She left the new tray of tea on the bedside table, and picked up the old one, turning around with it in hand. “So, what is it y- oh… uh, okay then.” Azhani was standing by the door wearing only her fur, with her twitching tail maneuvered to cover her most-sensitive parts, though she made no effort to cover the signs on her chest of her involuntary arousal. Her hair was loose and disheveled and the room itself was no better off, with the bed looking like it’d been ripped to shreds and clothes strewn about at random. Lydia carried on as if this were normal. “Uh, yeah, what do you need?”
“Well, two things,” Azhani started, crouching down near the bed to drag a metal pot from beneath it and put a cover over it. She stood up with it in hand and extended her arms towards Lydia as if offering for her to take it. “Uh, I need this cleaned. Would, uh… prefer it back sooner than… than later, yes?”
Lydia gave a quiet nod, holding out the tray so Azhani could leave her pot on it. Her bladder protested at the thought of what was in the pot, but remained firmly under control.
“And I’d like these washed… if you don’t mind,” the Khajiit said as she picked a set of ragged clothes out of the debris around the room. “Not… terribly important, but… I usually wash them every day… when I’m like this, so that, uh… so they smell… normal.” Then they were handed over to Lydia, who just let them be draped over one of her arms, save for a more delicate article that went into the pocket on Lydia’s apron.
“They don’t smell that bad,” she said. “Could just air them out and they’d be fine.”
“No, trust me.” Azhani’s deep breathing seemed to quicken a bit and she was using both hands to emphatically gesture in Lydia’s direction. “If you were a Khajiit, you’d know. Eh… th-they need to be washed. Every day, until… uh, until this is over.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Sure, I can do that.” Lydia subtly pressed her legs together as she stood. “I guess that’s why you’re holed up in here, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I would like to be… able to go out for some air, but…” There was the sound of tea being poured in the background while Azhani spoke, causing Lydia to stand a little stiffer. “I would also like… to not have everyone… think I’m a slut. So I stay here.”
“Fair enough. Is that it?”
Azhani, who had moved to sit on the bed with her tail draped over her legs, just nodded and took a sip of her tea, then watched and Lydia left the room without another word and fumbled with the tray to close the door behind herself.
The trek down the hall and back downstairs was far more tolerable this time than going up, but Lydia couldn’t help worrying about the prospect of having to repeat that journey even once. For now, it was just a matter of walking like a normal person long enough to ditch the now-spent tea set and get outside to deal with everything else Azhani wanted. She turned some heads during her walk, but most of them seemed to be more interested in the clattering of everything on the tray than Lydia herself; they’d look in her direction momentarily then get right back to what they were doing.
Except the Dragonborn, of course, who had his eyes glued to her from the moment she entered his sight, no doubt trying to find in her something of special interest. He didn’t otherwise acknowledge her until she tried to get behind the counter, only to be met with a hand blocking her way.
“How’re you holding up so far?” Bjorn spoke in a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of patrons enjoying their lunch break.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your show, but it’s not going to be that easy,” was the equally-silent response. “And hands off while I’m working, huh?” The rebuke was loud enough that those seated at the bar could have heard it if they cared, and it prompted the Dragonborn to withdraw a hand that had found its way to Lydia’s thigh.
With no further obstruction, Lydia headed into the kitchen, setting down her tray and grabbing a brush and something that she was pretty sure was at least somewhat related to soap. Then she shuffled everything around to carry it more comfortably and picked up the pot whose contents she didn’t want to think about right now. Especially not with a constant pressure reminding her that her day wasn’t even half over yet. He’d be getting a show, alright.
For now, though, Lydia went outside, forcing herself to walk straight and keep upright, headed for the nearest canal. But that was the easy part. Now she had to negotiate herself into sitting down in such a way that she could still do what she needed and not add any undue pressure. She worked slowly, eventually ending up on her knees with one foot strategically positioned to provide assistance if necessary.
Lydia took a deep breath and looked around to make sure she didn’t have too much of an audience, then quickly got to work. First she took Azhani’s panties out and quickly looked them over – there was a still-damp patch caused by what was certainly not urine, but no other damage – then carefully leaned forwards to get them into the water and use her soap-like substance on them. She worked quickly but efficiently, retrieving them after a short while in a state that was probably the cleanest they had been in a decade. Then they were wrung out and set aside and Lydia took a moment to breathe deeply, glad that her body was no longer compressing itself where it shouldn’t have been and preparing herself to do it again.
But then it was right back to business, giving the ragged shirt and pants the same treatment – though what they really needed was a needle and thread – before all the clothes ended up in a neat pile just slightly off to Lydia’s side. Then her gaze turned to the little iron pot. Then back to the canal, then the pot again, and back and forth like that for a while before settling on the canal again. Lydia dipped a hand in to confirm that the current would be satisfactory, then resigned herself to the necessity of the task at hand.
She refused to look at and tried not to listen to what she was doing as the picked up the pot, put the lid aside, and dumped the contents into the canal – everyone threw their trash into these things anyways – and waited for a couple of minutes once it was emptied. She’d ground herself into the foot she was sitting on in the meantime.
Another sigh was followed by Lydia reluctantly picking up the pot, brush, and probably-soap, giving the inside of the pot a decent lining of fatty cleaning-substance, then submerging the pot and vigorously assaulting it with the brush.
She’d noticed about halfway through that a spot of unwanted warmth had appeared, coincidentally right around the part of her that her foot was pressing into, but forced herself to ignore it for the time being. Just clean the damn thing.
Once she had finished, Lydia hastily organized everything she’d brought and stood up quickly – perhaps a little too much so, as she felt a little more warmth where she really didn’t want it, but still she pressed on, forcing herself to continue looking normal for just a bit longer.
She hurried back into the bar, glancing at Bjorn just long enough to notice the dumb little smirk on his face, still keeping things together, if just barely so. This time she didn’t stop to consider the stairs, heading directly to the top at the expense of what little dry space was left in her underwear. Lydia moved quickly to Azhani’s room, gave a simple knock, and when the door opened she simply thrust everything in her hands over to the still-bare Khajiit and left before either could say anything.
The trip back downstairs had surely left a mark on Lydia’s pants, though she didn’t dare check and didn’t much care anyways since the apron she’d been wearing would cover it for now. And against all logic and reason, she headed for the bar, leaning against it near an empty seat with her legs firmly crossed.
Sure enough, the Dragonborn came over, taking a moment to silently observe her with his arms crossed and that grin still plastered on his face. Eventually, he spoke: “Well, now we’re at the fun part,” he said. “Isn’t that great?”
“Perfect,” was the growled response that only elicited a laugh from across the bar.
“Hey, if I wanted to hear a Khajiit get mad at me, I’d go talk to Azhani.” He chuckled again and Lydia’s face turned red. “Anyways,” Bjorn continued, “how about some of this, huh? Gotta stay hydrated.” He’d procured a bottle of beer from under the counter and was giving it a little shake.
Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, knowing perfectly well what he was really trying to get at. But she hardly had a choice, since she actually was rather thirsty and couldn’t exactly ignore that. So one hand disappeared beneath her apron and the other was held up above the bar with her thumb and forefinger positioned to indicate she wouldn’t be drinking much.
So Bjorn pulled out two mugs, filled one a quarter of the way, and poured the rest of the beer into the other one. Lydia grabbed the less-filled one and Bjorn raised the other in a sort of toast before immediately downing half of it.
“I’m liking the show so far,” he said. “Not much longer until it gets really good, huh?”
“For you, perhaps.” Lydia drank slowly, taking unusually-small sips. The hand under her apron strengthened its grip.
“Well, you’re playing along just fine. You’ve had lots of opportunities to sort yourself out so far, and you ignored ‘em. Very nice.”
“How do you know that? Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’m just pretending.”
“You’re sweating.”
“I’ve been running up and down stairs all day.”
“You’ve won plenty of fights without breaking a sweat, what’s a few stairs?”
“Well, then it’s warm in here and these aren’t thin clothes.”
“It’s about the same temperature in here it was this morning, and you were fine then.”
“Alright. What if it’s a bad time for me and I’m just acting to get you off my back?”
“Unless something changed in the last few hours, you’re doing just fine. And, uh, you’d have to be about two weeks early for that to be true anyways.”
Lydia stared at the Dragonborn with a concerned look. “Okay, I’m a bit worried that you already know that, to be completely honest.”
“I’ll pretend I don’t, then.” The response was followed by him finishing the rest of his beer. “But I definitely know how to tell when someone’s acting, and you’re not.”
“Can you really be sure I haven’t just learned what you’re looking for?” She bent ever so slightly at the knees.
“Yes, because there’s quite a bit you’d never be able to do intentionally. Not convincingly, anyways.” Bjorn put a hand to his chin for a moment, then brought it away to point at various parts of Lydia. “That look in your eyes, the way you’re breathing, what that arm’s doing, that thing your feet are doing. And you can’t fake a bulge like that. In fact,” he said, his eyes scanning her whole body, “you’re hiding it well, but you’re already wet.”
Lydia looked at him with an eyebrow raised while her legs tied themselves together even tighter. “Is that so,” she said, leaning forward and directing her gaze a bit downwards. “Or is that just what he wants you to think?”
“Oh come now,” the Dragonborn responded, adjusting his position. “You know it’s true, what do you really have to gain from pretending otherwise?”
“Fine, fine, you’re right.” Lydia wiggled around a bit. “But it’s not over yet.”
“Of course it isn’t. But tell you what, I’ll be merciful. I’ll deal with Azhani, and you can take care of whoever’s got a table. That sound good to you?”
The response was a quiet groan. “You don’t think I actually believe that’d be easier, do you? But fine, sure, whatever. Enjoy the view.” Then she wrenched her hand out from between her legs and walked off awkwardly towards the dining room proper.
Lydia managed to survive an hour of clearing tables and taking orders without any major complications – aside from most definitely not having proper posture and moving far more slowly and carefully than could be considered normal. Bjorn had decided to deal with the cooking himself, so Lydia spent a good deal of time leaning forward against the bar with her legs crossed, relaying crudely-scrawled orders and giving a clear view down her shirt. Then it was just a matter of tossing stuff onto a tray and brining it where it was meant to go – being careful, of course, to not drop or spill anything.
The ever-constant, ever-growing pressure wasn’t helping. Lydia had to either subject herself to bending forward somewhat or doing a bit of an awkward curtsy to be able to put the trays down, which almost certainly would have announced to everyone that something was wrong. So she took the momentary increase in pressure, still trying to look normal.
Fortunately, the lunch rush – or whatever could be called a rush by the Bee and Barb’s standards – was starting to die down, but it was alone in this. Lydia’s legs were sealed together whenever she was standing still, one of them constantly shaking or a foot incessantly tapping while she devoted all her energy to not using her hands while people were still around.
By some miracle, that wet patch of hers had been cold for quite some time, despite her body’s best attempts to change that. She could only hope that it was just Bjorn and nobody else that knew about her internal war, though she’d been attracting strange looks for a while now. These customers had to know something was wrong, even if they’d not said anything.
And if she thought people were looking at her before, they’d certainly be staring now. There she was, with a tray in her hands, shuffling across the floor to bring it to whoever’d asked for it, when she stopped suddenly and bent slightly at the knees. The warmth had returned in force, and this time Lydia could feel it trailing down the inside of one leg. So, having failed to come up with any better ideas in the quarter of a second it took for that event to register in her mind, she dropped into a sort of kneeling position, the dishes she was carrying clattering as she did so.
Lydia set the tray down on the floor in front of her, quickly deciding to push some silverware off of it as well, then – hopefully subtly – shoved one hand beneath her apron and into her pants, squeezing herself hard enough to stop the stream. After a moment, she lightened her grip, only to be met with a quick burst of warmth, though nothing more. So she withdrew her hand and wiped it off on her apron, using the other to collect what she’d dropped in an effort to look like that had been what happened there.
It seemed to work well enough, as when everything was organized again and she stood back up, most people who she was certain had turned to look at her were either no longer doing so, or were some of the handful of people looking at her with concern. These people turned away once Lydia made eye contact with them, though, and she moved as quickly as she could to deliver the damn food.
The tray was practically dropped on the table, and Lydia hurriedly wiped down all the silverware with a clean cloth she’d pulled out of one of her pockets to reassure the customers that it was fine to use – which they were apparently satisfied with, so she immediately went back to the bar. She laid two hands on it and simply stood there doing a little march until Bjorn came over to her.
“Just about done, huh?” His question was met with no verbal response, only a glare that would have looked more threatening if Lydia weren’t clearly on the verge of tears. “I mean, look at you, you can hardly walk anymore. There’s no way you’re getting upstairs or anything at this point, so I’d be more than happy to help you here.”
“Not… yet…” Lydia spoke through her teeth.
“Suit yourself. I’m not about to pretend I don’t like this, but just don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Neither of us are going to like it if you get hurt."
“I know what I’m doing.” With that, Lydia forced herself to stand as upright as possible and walk back to the dining room to clean up. Her legs got themselves twisted in some convoluted knot and she’d bounce every time she stood still to get something off a table, but still she kept fighting until one table had a mass of dishes piled on top of it. The warmth had expanded in the time it took to do that, but only slightly. Lydia was still in control, for now.
Perhaps in retrospect it hadn’t been such a great idea to make one stack of everything she had to carry back to the kitchen. She didn’t intend to use her hands anyways, but once she picked that up to bring it back, she wouldn’t even have the option. The occasional leaks had stopped though, so if she was fast enough…
Lydia took a deep breath and grabbed the dish-tower, stumbling a bit as it tried to demolish itself, but soon enough that too was under control. So she turned around and, with her legs as close together as physically possible, she slowly worked her way back to the kitchen. The handful of people that were still around were definitely giving her weird looks, but Lydia didn’t much care. She was already trying to focus on walking and not becoming even more wet, so her attention was divided enough.
She managed to get behind the bar without much of an issue, and though the Dragonborn gave her a concerned look he quickly turned back to the group sitting across from him without saying anything. But with her next step, Lydia froze. A massive jet of warmth had added itself to the wetness down her legs, and she could swear she heard some hit the floor. She knew the rest of the flood wasn’t far behind, and rushed to the nearest kitchen counter.
The dishes were slammed onto the countertop and Lydia moved just as quickly to the Dragonborn, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around to face her with far more force than either of them expected.
“Do something,” she hissed. Bjorn just nodded in response, subtly indicating with one hand for her to get down. So she sat on the floor, back against the bar, hoping nobody would notice or pay her much mind. And while she waited for something to happen, she wiggled her way out of her pants, pulling them down just far enough that her apron would cover what was exposed, and then shoved both hands between her legs.
Bjorn, meanwhile, was in the middle of distracting everyone. “Hey, who wants a free round of beer, huh?” He held his arms out at his sides and yelled loud enough for the whole place to hear. And, of course, everyone came running over to him.
The Dragonborn cautiously looked over at Lydia, who was glaring up at him with a look that demanded to know what he thought he was doing. But then she broke eye contact suddenly when she felt her hands get wet.
When a decent crowd gathered at the bar, Bjorn turned around, heading quickly to the kitchen to collect an armful of mugs, including a few particularly-tall ones. He seemed to trip on his way back, causing one of the taller mugs to fall to the floor while he juggled and ultimately lost a second normal one. The shorter mug had coincidentally been tossed to land near where Lydia was sitting, and with the Dragonborn’s next step the taller one was kicked over in that direction as well. Lydia grabbed the tall one with one hand, adjusting herself so it was underneath her, though her other hand hadn’t been removed just yet.
Bjorn had haphazardly dropped the rest of the mugs on the counter, letting everyone there grab one for themselves while he pulled a few bottles out from below. They were each opened in quick succession and he wasted no time in giving everyone a generous helping.
Lydia, of course, both understood this to be her opportunity and was out of time anyways. One last jet of her waters had been released into her hand, and continued to trickle through her fingers. As soon as the hand was removed, she gave in entirely, biting down on a dry part of her free arm so as to not make more noise than she already was.
So for a little while Lydia took long, slow breaths with her eyes closed, only opening them in a panic once she realized she could feel liquid running down the sides of her mug. Trying to force herself to stop, she only found that she couldn’t, so picked up the other mug she had with her free hand, quickly swapping the two – though this of course didn’t last very long either, and once it overflowed too Lydia resigned herself to moving into a bit of a low squat. There would be a pretty sizable puddle on the floor either way, and this way no further dishes would be ruined.
The only problem was that her auditory cover had gone by the time the first mug filled, as the Dragonborn had run out of drinks to fill. Lydia could vaguely hear him hastily composing some story or another, likely in an attempt to talk over her stream and still-expanding lake on the floor once he’d noticed that he could hear it. She looked up at him in time to see him shoot her another glance and sneak his hand under the counter, procuring a rag and tossing it in her general direction.
She looked at it for a moment, then picked it up and set it on her lap to keep it from getting wet earlier than intended. By then, her stream had slowed considerably and she failed to suppress a sigh as it turned to a trickle and eventually stopped. Another few deep breaths to collect herself, and she looked up at Bjorn again – the crowd seemed to be under control, so she let herself rise just enough to properly move over and remove the pants she’d destroyed, still trying to remain below the bar so as to not be seen.
Lydia had to admit, it was a fairly impressive puddle. Some of it was being lost between the poorly-constructed floorboards, but even so it was expansive enough that the Dragonborn had moved over a little from his original position to keep his shoes clean. She looked at the rag in her hand and decided it was definitely not going to be enough, so she shoved it through the string of her apron, letting it hang from the back and hopefully hide the fact that she was half-naked.
Then she stood up entirely and grabbed a bottle of cheap something-or-other from under the bar, casually dropping it to the ground and watching it break. And when everyone looked over at her, she simply started to back into the kitchen, saying, “I’ll take care of that.”
She came back with a mop and a broom, first sweeping all the glass shards into a neat pile, then getting to work on the puddle that was clearly too big to have been made by only what was in that bottle – though nobody had questioned her on it. The Dragonborn had walked off just before she started cleaning, then came back a few minutes later and quietly laid a clean pair of pants on a counter in the kitchen.
He then moved much less discreetly over to Lydia, wrapping his arms tightly around her from behind and leaning in to whisper to her: “Still plenty of time left ‘til nightfall, you know.”
Edited March 9, 2019 by Sake
(see edit history) |
I sure hope this was worth the wait, because this chapter is incredibly important: This is the very last non-story chapter in the series. Every update after this is part of the Dragonslayer story chapter, of which I have not determined the length - however, once Dragonslayer ends, so too does the story. Dragonslayer will include breaks from the story content to get some final scenes at the inn, but otherwise, the Dragonborn and company will be leaving for Whiterun, then onwards to Skuldafn and Sovngarde to conclude the main quest and this adventure. If you're not interested in the story content and all you want is the porn, read Dragonslayer's intro chapter anyways because it'll have one last major omo scene and will be written to essentially serve as an alternate ending for those that don't want to read any further.
“Dancing through savannah grass, on light feet we glide… Hey, hey, Baandari boy, tap your heels in stride… Hey, hey, Baandari girl, swing your tail beside…”
The cold, early-morning air was filled with the sound of singing, not quite in tune or time, coming from a little black Khajiit whose tail swung around contentedly while she wiped down tables in advance of the regulars appearing for breakfast. She tried to be quiet, as the sun had barely risen yet, but being alone meant she didn’t have quite as much control over her voice as she thought.
“Val vijah va rhook, Baandari… Carrying our world in packs… Val vij- Ah?”
She looked up in surprise as a large man cleared his throat, standing at the opposite end of the table she was working on.
“So you sing, do you? That’s a new one.” The Dragonborn spun the nearest chair around and sat on it, leaning forward onto its back. “What’s got you all happy all of a sudden?”
Azhani shrugged. “Well, being bedridden for four days because my body wants me dead for… well, you know why. Anyways, gave me time to think. And, you know, I realized,” she said, moving on to a nearby table. The Dragonborn just turned his head to look at her. “My life now is the best it’s ever been. I have a home, and money that I earned, and my own things, and good friends, and I can do what I want. Only way it could be better is if I had family, but, eh…” She shook her head. “But nothing’s ever perfect, right?” Azhani forced a bit of a smile and focused on her work.
Then there was silence for a time, broken eventually by the Dragonborn, who had a hand on the back of his head.
“Well, uh… I’m not gonna go there if you don’t want me to, but… Eh, you know, there’s always someone here if you… y’know, if you need it. And, man, I really hope I didn’t kill your good mood or anything. Eheh.”
Azhani glanced over at him for a moment but just kept working. “No, no, it’s fine. Really. Just…” She sighed. “You know, I haven’t seen my sister in ten years. I don’t know where she is, if she’s even alive. I love her and I miss her but… I have had a lot of time to accept that I probably won’t see her again. I think about her a lot and it would be great if she were here, but I know she is not and I just hope that wherever she is, she is where she wants to be.” She looked over at Bjorn again, and saw him looking back with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! Really, I am fine. My sister and I have different lives now. That’s how it is. Nothing can change that. And you know, I don’t think I would want to change it anyway. I really do mean it when I say my life has never been better. It can always be better, yes, but it is best, I think, to appreciate what I have now.”
Bjorn nodded. “Y’know, I’m actually kinda impressed. Takes some people fifty years to figure that out. But, really, it’s good that things seem to be working out for you.” He stood up long enough to spin the chair around and sit down properly, leaning forward with an elbow on the table and his head in his hand. “On that note, that song you were singing… what’s that about, then? Something about the Baandari?”
“Mhrr?” Azhani turned her head and made a trilled, inquisitive sound. Then her ears perked up and her eyes lit up suddenly. “Oh! Right, that. Yes, it’s an old traditional song, for festivals and things like that. And, yes, it’s about the Baandari. I think it might even come from them, but I don’t know for sure. It’s been around more than a thousand years, so…”
“Lucky you with your ancient cultural heritage. The oldest songs people still sing back home are about the Hero of Kvatch. Granted, he’s kind of a big deal in Bruma, considering he single-handedly saved the city and all, but, still, that’s only two hundred years old.” The Dragonborn leaned back and folded his arms. “And don’t expect me to give you any examples. I can’t sing worth shit.”
“Yes, you know, it’s strange but I can’t seem to picture a dragon singing. Wonder why that could be, hm?”
“It’s a fuckin’ mystery.” Bjorn glanced past Azhani, looking down the hall out a window. “But, y’know what, I’m gonna go wake up Lydia and get started on breakfast. That sound good?” He looked over at Azhani, who was simply nodding fervently with wide eyes. “Alright then.”
Only a few minutes later, Lydia was sat watching Azhani tear into raw meat across the table, and the Dragonborn was in the kitchen cooking some up properly for himself and his wife. Somewhere along the way a pot of tea had been put on as well, and Azhani had taken it all for herself to fight off the lingering effects of her present situation.
“So,” Lydia started, clearly unsure of how to start a conversation with a human-sized carnivorous feline in the middle of meal. “Seems like you’re… doing better.”
The little Khajiit just made a vaguely affirmative noise through a mouthful of meat, only responding properly when she’d swallowed and taken a swig of tea. “Like I told you,” she said. “No more pain, but it’s not completely over yet. It is easier to deal with now, though. All I have to do now is keep my legs closed, which is… well, not exactly what I would call a challenge.” Her tail twitched playfully while she had some more tea and picked her food back up.
Lydia, meanwhile, just raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like it’s real easy to just… ignore your body trying to force you to do something.”
Azhani shrugged and refrained from taking another bite. “Well, just… doing it, would be the easy way out, I suppose. That’s how I managed it when I was younger. But I have found ways to deal with it, and it is not easy and not fun at all but it’s a better life than being a whore.” Then she moved to continue eating, but pulled back at the last minute. “Though, I suppose I made some good money… They pay a lot for that in the Imperial City, you know. Made more than I do here, that’s for sure…”
"You sound like you’re quite proud of that.”
“Eh, were you… expecting me to be ashamed?” Azhani spoke slowly. “Am I supposed to regret what I did? Sorry, but I am not, and I do not. I did what I had to do. Sure, some things I am not… particularly proud of, but at least I am alive because of it.” She took a quick bite and spoke again. “That is more than can be said of some people who have met you, yes?”
Lydia nodded and looked away. “That… that’s fair. Didn’t mean to… come off as condescending, or anything, but-“
“Don’t lie to me,” Azhani interrupted. “You meant it. You probably even meant to say something much worse. But you know what, I don’t care. Think what you want about who I used to be. What I used to do. After so many years, I can finally say that is not me anymore. Criticize my old life all you like! I didn’t like it either, but you know what? It was the only life I could have, so don’t act like I’m meant to feel bad about it, or that I’m any less than you now because of it.”
“Gods, since when have you been a fucking Greybeard, huh?” This time the voice belonged to the Dragonborn, who dropped a plate of cooked meat and toast on the table before taking a seat next to Lydia. “Seriously, you’ve been talking like a sage all fucking morning. Never thought you had that sort of wisdom in you.”
“Heh. I told you, I had a lot of time to think about things.” After another sip of tea and a refill of her cup, Azhani continued. “And, anyways, it’s not wrong, yes? Get tossed into the world like I did, you have to learn quick how things really work. Learn to work with what you have and deal with problems.” She shrugged. “But, uh, now I would like to change the subject please, before I remember things I have been trying to forget.”
Bjorn gave her a concerned look but didn’t press the issue, instead speaking quickly. “Right, right, of course. Well, then, how about you finish off that song, hm?”
Azhani put down the piece of meat she’d just picked up, and looked off to the side. “Eh…” Were she not covered in fur, her face would surely be red. “Well, I would, probably, but, ehm… It’s more something that just happens, you know? I couldn’t do it now that you’re here and I’m thinking about it."
“What a shame,” the Dragonborn said. “Work on that voice of yours and you could get a decent job as a bard someday.” Then he stood up and started towards the bar, Azhani waving her teapot at him and getting a nod in response. He set the kettle to boil and spoke across the room while he waited. “Y’know there’s a bards’ college up in Solitude. Couldn’t hurt to check it out, if you ever end up there.”
“I-I don’t know, maybe, b-but, like I said-“ Azhani started to speak but was cut off by the door opening, everyone turning to look.
Two Argonians entered, visibly weary from some sort of long journey. One of them had a wrapped package in her hand. She looked around for a bit before taking a seat at the bar and dropping the package on the counter.
“Gods, I missed this dump,” Keerava said. “And, hey, we met some kid at the gate who said he brought this for you. Don’t know what it is, but it’s wrapped up tight.” She wiggled around a bit while Talen walked over to Azhani and Lydia to grab a piece of toast.
“Aha, perfect,” the Dragonborn said, taking the package and sliding it under the counter. “I’ll get to it later. For now though, how was that trip of yours?”
“Eh, the trip itself was nothing special, but once we got where we were going, mmm…” Keerava had put on a little grin, watching Bjorn as he went back into the kitchen. “I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say Talen knows his way around a rope and leave it at that.” She sighed and leaned into the counter, her butt wiggling a bit to accommodate the new position. “Fuck, though, it’s a long trip. It was worth it, but I am just so tired right now. I think the only reason I’m even awake at all is because I have to piss.”
The Dragonborn looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, walked over to grab a small cup from under the counter, then walked back to fill it with the tea that had just finished. “Well, in that case,” he said, “This should help, right?”
Keerava sat back up to laugh as the cup ended up on the bar in front of her. “Oh, definitely,” she said, grabbing the cup and plotting how to approach it while it was still so hot. In the meantime, she spun around and watched Bjorn bring the rest of the tea to everyone else. “Anyways, I see you haven’t burned down my business while I was away.”
“As tempting as it was, yes, I kept it just how you left it.”
“Pfft, so you’re telling me the place is still shit.” Keerava took a swig of tea and leaned back against the counter. “Don’t know what I expected. Is it any better around here without the war on, at least?”
Bjorn shrugged, now seated next to Lydia. “Didn’t seem much different. Still… functional, I suppose, but nothing much beyond the regulars.”
“And by functional,” Talen added, “You mean we just barely broke even, right? It’s a magical week when we can actually turn a profit.”
“The real magic, beeko,” Keerava said, “is making more than a septim in profit.” She laid a hand on her abdomen and took another sip of tea. “Ah, but that’s just how it always is, isn’t it? I’ll have plenty of time to bitch about it later. For now, let’s hear about what went on here while we were gone.”
“Well, unless you want to hear some special stories, you really didn’t miss much. You know how it goes around here.” The Dragonborn took a bite of meat and spoke around it. “Jus’ normal bus’ness.”
Lydia grabbed the meat from him and shot him a playful but dirty look. “Yeah, all normal. He spent almost all our money on some fancy black armor – as one does, of course – gave a kid a lot of gold to go fetch the Nerevarine’s butter knife – as one does – and, uh, oh yeah, we got married. Remember that? You know, not a big deal or anything, but now I’m stuck with your Cyrodiilic ass until I die.”
“Bold of you to assume you’d need to wait that long,” Bjorn said with a silly grin. “Just until Alduin eats me. So, you know, just give it a month or so and you’ll be on your own again, sweets.”
“Assuming I even allow him to do that, of course. I may be stuck with you but that just means you’re stuck with me, too, and I’d never let you get away that easily.”
Keerava smiled as she downed the rest of her tea, which any normal person would have taken twice as long to finish. “So you two got together, did you? Good for you. That just leaves Azhani all on her own then, doesn’t it?”
Azhani perked up at the mention of her name and quickly looked around at everyone, obviously not expecting to be involved in a conversation. “Eheh, yeah,” she muttered, “Ah, well, that’s life, yes? I’m sure I could find someone if I tried, but for now I am fine as I am.”
“Of course you could,” Bjorn added with a light chuckle. “Lots of people out there who would be more than happy to get a bit o-“
“Oh, no, no, stop! Stop right there! I know where you’re going with this!” Azhani suddenly stood up and pointed at him while her tail jerked around behind her. “You think you’re clever making that joke, do you?” She leaned forward with her hands planted on the table. “You think you’re the first one to come up with that? A thousand times I have had to listen to men who think they’re being smart make jokes about pussy. Yeah I get it, I am a woman and I look like a cat. But just because I get it doesn’t make it funny.” Then she sat back down and sighed. “Ahh, but you know what is funny? The only people who think that joke is clever are Imperials. You, Dragonborn, oh Bright Moons, you are not a Nord. Yes, you might think you are, you even look like one. But truth is, rhook, you are an Imperial. There is no denying that.” With that, Azhani took a sip of tea and started purring, leaving her tail to sway contentedly.
Bjorn threw his hands up in response. “Well,” he said, “Shit, that’s some impressive fervor, whiskers. You’re always so quiet.”
“Don’t call me that. But, eh, yeah, I just… really hate that joke, you know?” Azhani leaned back as far as her chair would allow. “And, I mean, I can enjoy some crude humor from time to time, but at least be creative about it, yeah?”
“Fair enough.”
Keerava let out a little snort of laughter, her hands now resting innocently on her thighs. “Well, good to see everyone’s getting along.” Her hands moved to the counter, and she pushed herself up to her feet, taking a moment to get herself standing upright. “Anyways, I just got back from a very long trip, so if you don’t mind watching the place for a bit longer, I’m going to go lie down for a few hours. You’re coming too, Talen, before you fall asleep trying to make soup or something.”
“Yeah, no problem,” the Dragonborn said. “I just have to check in with the armorer first, but I’ll keep things running.”
“Thanks. I’m really gonna have to… figure out some way to repay you for all this…”
Keerava woke up – fully clothed, as she hadn’t expected to actually get any sleep – perhaps an hour or two past noon, groaning as sunlight filled the room and she rubbed at her eyes. She didn’t feel much better, but at least her exhaustion was a less-immediate issue now. She rolled out of bed and stretched, giving of a quiet moan as a comfortably heavy weight in her abdomen become apparent. She looked down and lifted her shirt to get a proper look at the cause of the sensation, admiring the view of her scaled belly pressing against the waistband of her pants.
The Argonian tried to recall the last time she’d relieved herself – must have been the previous night, about twelve hours ago, when she and Talen had settled in to get some rest before the last and longest leg of their journey back to Riften. She remembered it as a very pleasant experience, slipping a hand into her pants as she forced herself to remember when her bladder had been emptied before then. It had been in the morning, definitely, but it couldn’t have been that same morning, for she had been genuinely concerned that she might not be dry when they stopped to make camp – which she of course hadn’t been, and while that had been due to her full bladder, it would have been a lie to say it was solely because that organ’s contents leaking out.
“Mmmn…” In any case, she knew from years of experience that she couldn’t have been that worried about wetting herself if she’d only been waiting from morning to night – so before last night, she must have been waiting a full day and a half to release her waters. Keerava knew that to be her limit, barring extraordinary circumstances, which certainly explained why she could remember being proud of the torrent she’d unleashed and worried she’d unleash it onto herself. She could have picked a better place to do it, but it was still impressive – they’d rented the cheapest horses they could find, and last night Keerava remembered dismounting, undressing, and squatting right next to the horse she’d been riding. Even at the time she was somewhat disappointed she couldn’t wait even a few seconds to get somewhere else, but faced with the orgasmic sensation of relief and now remembering that same feeling, she could only be impressed with her accomplishment.
Of course, not all of her was impressed with that memory – her bladder was desperate to replicate the events of the previous night, and with the feeling of relief fresh in Keerava’s mind again it very angrily reminded her of its existence. The hand in her pants pressed hard against herself while her thighs came together and her knees bent slightly, but a moment later she straightened up and pulled her hand out again like nothing had happened. She used her bedsheets to wipe her hand clean, and noticed just then that the bed was empty. Normally, that wouldn’t be unusual, but Talen-jei had come with her, and now he was gone. He must have woken up earlier and gone downstairs already.
So Keerava stretched again, made sure her clothes were in order, and without a second thought left to join her new mate. Her bladder pleaded with her to relieve herself while she had the chance, but she didn’t listen, and it stopped protesting when it became clear she wouldn’t be giving it what it wanted. Not for a very long time yet.
Instead, she got downstairs and headed over to take her usual position at the bar, looking around to see what was going on. Azhani was off in some far corner waiting on a table, and the handful of regulars – plus Lydia – were at the bar which was currently being worked by the Dragonborn. Talen was in the kitchen behind him, and glanced over at Keerava only momentarily as she walked over. Bjorn paid her more attention, looking her over and letting his trained gaze linger on her small bulge.
“So,” he said, forcing himself to look her in the eye, “You taking over here?”
“Yes I am.” Keerava bent down to get an apron from under the counter, pressing her legs together slightly as she did but bringing them apart again when she stood up straight.
”Great. It’s about time I got some lunch anyways.” Bjorn gave his typical two-fingered salute and started to walk off, adding a quiet “Good luck” as he passed by Keerava on his way to a table. Keerava noticed Lydia jumped a bit in her seat as the Dragonborn passed her, spinning around and grabbing his arm with a furious look on her face. He looked down at her with a half-smile. “Surprised?”
Lydia sighed and released her vice grip on Bjorn’s arm, instead bringing that hand up to her face. “You’re really lucky I don’t have a knife on hand right now, you know that? A lady gets her ass grabbed without warning in a town like this… Doesn’t normally end well.”
“With you, I’ll take that chance.” He reached out towards her, but Lydia blocked his arm with her own.
“Save it for tonight,” she said, turning back to her drink.
“If you say so.” Bjorn then walked off to a table in the dining room and sat down, waiting for Azhani to come to him.
Keerava watched him at the edge of her view, topping off Lydia’s drink. “You two seem to have hit it off pretty quickly,” she said. “Didn’t really seem like you had anything going on between you before now.”
Lydia shrugged and drank deep before responding. “Eh, well, he seems to have been fairly attached to me since we met. I didn’t think much of him at first, to tell you the truth.” She drank again before continuing. “It was pretty much just a business relationship, since I was just… assigned to him by Jarl Balgruuf, but, you know, we ended up going everywhere together.” Another sip. “I suppose I warmed up to him – I must have, considering it got to a point where I’d willingly go along with his, eh, games – but being his servant kinda complicated things. You’re right, we were never very close before we got married, but I suppose I must have felt something for him since I kept doing a whole bunch of shit that wasn’t in my job description.” She took another drink. “Heh, I mean, I agreed to marry him. I didn’t have to do that. And now that we’re married, might as well make the most of it, right?”
“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. And just, don’t take any of this the wrong way or anything, it’s nice that you two are happy together, but… It’s not quite what I was expecting.”
Lydia stared across the bar with a puzzled look on her face. “What were you expecting?”
“Honestly?” Keerava leaned in and spoke quietly. “He seemed quite interested in Azhani. I though he’d end up fucking her.”
Lydia laughed as Keerava pulled away. “Oh, no, he’s – well, according to him anyways – he’s only interested in her because of the situations she keeps getting into. Otherwise, too much fur and too many tits, he says.”
“Too many…? What does that mean? She’s just barely got the two. I mean, these don’t even do anything and they’re bigger than hers.”
“Eh, I think he was just trying to make a cat joke. You know how they’ve got teats going all the way down? He probably just assumed she’d work the same way.” She took another sip. “That, or he’s seen her with her shirt off, but all that fur would cover them up anyways, so… Probably just a guess.”
Keerava looked back towards Talen, then back to Lydia, absentmindedly doling out refills and taking money while she talked. “You know, if you hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have cared about it, but now I’m wondering if he was right.”
“Why not just ask her, then?”
As if on cue, the little Khajiit walked into the kitchen to relay the Dragonborn’s order directly to Talen. Keerava glanced back and noticed that she was standing with her legs pressed together, her weight awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. “Eh, it’s not that big of a deal.”
She watched as Azhani came out from behind the counter and glanced into the dining room, ensuring nothing else needed to be done, before disappearing from view up the stairs. Keerava could feel her bladder protest, knowing that she remained behind the bar pouring drinks while Azhani had gone to do what Keerava refused to.
“You alright?”
“Hm?” Keerava noticed Lydia was looking at her with a hint of concern in her eyes. “Oh, yeah, just fine. Zoned out for a bit there, I guess.” It was the truth, mostly. Of course she wouldn’t mention why she’d been lost in her mind, but she could at least admit that she was.
“Sure, okay.” Lydia didn’t sound convinced at all, but gave her mug a little shake anyways. “How about you top me off, then?” She reached into one of her pockets and tossed a coin onto the counter.
Keerava nodded and pulled a bottle from under the counter, ripping its cork out with her teeth while she took Lydia’s mug in her other hand and slowly refilled it, savoring every torturous second of liquid pouring from the bottle. Eventually, the cup ended up back in Lydia’s hands and, after quickly checking on everyone else at the bar, Keerava turned around and headed into the kitchen, returning to the counter with a piece of fish in her mouth and more in hand.
She took a seat and said very little, focusing instead on her lunch and refilling drinks. Whenever anyone did talk to her and expect a response, she kept it to a single line or two. Not because she needed to focus, of course – because she wanted to. Obviously, whatever she wanted was always more important than such silly things as basic biological needs, especially since in her experience it’d be a few hours before anything became a real need. Oh, sure, her bladder was full – deliciously so – but since when did that count as a need?
So she sat quietly, wiggling around a little bit but otherwise acting as if nothing were any different than normal. Probably because this was normal. Keerava had such a long history of doing this sort of thing that by now her regulars paid her no attention – they knew she hardly ever moved from behind the counter, and therefore hardly ever had any time to herself. They knew what to expect from her, and none of them cared.
No, they just let her shuffle around while they talked to each other and only paid her any mind when they needed more drinks. And she didn’t pay much attention to them, either, for now that Azhani had returned to her line of sight – visibly relieved, of course – her attention was on the Khajiit. A very busy little lady, that one was, especially considering the fact that the place was just about always mostly empty, and she’d often stop at the bar for a quick drink.
The next time Azhani came near, this time headed to the kitchen instead of the bar, Keerava stopped her on her way out. “Hey, come here a minute,” she said, prompting the Khajiit to set down the tray she’d picked up and walk up to her employer looking a little nervous.
“Y-yes? Did… did I do something wrong?"
Keerava chuckled in response. “No, no, you’re doing great. I was just thinking, though, you could do with some more time downstairs. I’ll have to bring you down there again soon.”
“Ehrr… okay, I guess.” Azhani scratched her head. “I-if you say so. Just… I don’t know, let me know whenever you want, yes?”
“Of course. I’ll wake you up. Probably not tomorrow, but soon. Just so you can be ready for it. Now get back to work, hm?”
Azhani nodded quickly, picked her tray back up, and hurried off. Keerava watched her leave, then turned her attention back to herself. Her own enjoyment had reminded her that Azhani wasn’t quite as trained as she was – she’d brought the Khajiit down for a training session once but the little lady still seemed to have everything fairly in proportion with her small frame, including her bladder. Another round of intense training couldn’t hurt. And, if Keerava was being honest with herself, she’d not properly seen Azhani get herself into trouble for quite a while, so she was definitely looking forward to the chance to get a close-up show.
For now, she was content to enjoy her own personal show. Her bladder, full as it was, bulged out slightly and was just getting to the point where pressing on it would yield fantastic sensations. Sensations Keerava couldn’t get watching other people, though knowing they’d be experiencing them was more than enough for her to sympathize and enjoy it anyways. But why settle for that when she could get the real thing?
Keerava pressed her legs together as she pulled a few bottles from under the counter – it was time to refill some drinks, and more importantly she was feeling quite thirsty herself. All the better for her, really. One bottle was set aside, and the others ended up empty as their contents found their way into patrons’ mugs, then it was time for the fun to begin.
That last bottle was bigger than the others by a significant margin, which also meant it cost more as well and was too expensive to waste. So it was that bottles like this would be saved for special occasions, and this occasion seemed special enough, so Keerava again ripped it open with her teeth, and spat the cork out to the ground. Then she drank up.
The bottle was drained over the next three hours, first in large swigs then slowing down to occasional sips. If Argonians could get drunk on human liquor, Keerava could have used that as her excuse, but even she had to admit that as the bottle emptied, her bladder filled even more. By the time she’d finished her drink, she was struggling to sit still. And that was before enough time had passed for the alcohol’s effects on her bladder to fully kick in.
The Dragonborn had moved back to the bar in that time, too, following Azhani while she carried a tray laden with his empty dishes. Now he was seated next to Lydia, neither of them buying anything, instead discussing their coming adventures. Normally she’d kick them out to make room for paying customers, but lunchtime was over by now so there weren’t really any paying customers to make room for. Well, that, and she knew Bjorn would be looking over at her every so often, enjoying the show she was putting on. Even Talen would look her way every so often, though she knew that was only because she’d started getting cheeky, leaning forward onto the bar with her pants pulled down just enough that she could lift her tail and flash him a nice view of the scales down there. Keerava had a plan for how this would end, and she needed Talen to be in the right mood for it. Hopefully he’d get the hint.
Her bladder was definitely mad at her now, for refusing so many times to empty it when she had the chance. She was bouncing in her seat and her breathing was getting heavier, her legs pressed tight together while she waited for just the right moment to end her game. She could go on for quite some time yet, she knew, but given the events of the night before it was probably best to call it off earlier and rest instead of getting to her limit again.
At the same time, though, Keerava wasn’t a fan of intentionally relieving herself before her bladder had a chance to get nice and hard – firm now, but still soft enough that it couldn’t be totally full yet – and certainly wasn’t terribly willing to sacrifice the pleasant heat down there that came from holding back so much urine either. The pressure was too good to give up. She was certain she could feel her bladder stretching out, its contents pressing down on the sealed exit, giving her the feeling that all that restrained liquid could break free at any moment while she wiggled around to keep that from happening. Of course, if she really wanted to stop that from happening, there was always more she could do to make sure she stayed locked up, and normally she would be doing those things by now, but it was nice to enjoy the sensations caused by the ever-present risk of leaking.
One hand had found its way down to the bulge in Keerava’s abdomen, rubbing it lightly enough to enjoy the shape of it without pressing down, as tempting as that was. Her breath was deep and slow, everything well under control for now. Azhani walked past looking a little uncomfortable, and Keerava smiled at the sight, her breath accelerating a bit as she pressed on her bladder ever so slightly once Azhani was out of sight, gradually increasing the pressure for a minute. She only let up when it felt as though she was on the absolute edge of losing control, standing up and crossing her legs while she planted both hands on the bar.
“Hey,” she said to the Dragonborn, “Do me a favor and take over, will you?”
Bjorn put on a smile that said he knew far too much. “Heh, sure, no problem.” He walked casually around to take Keerava’s place, and she nodded and headed back into the kitchen.
Talen gave her a curious look, which turned into surprise and then joy as she grabbed his arm and spoke quietly: “Bed. Now.” Then she dragged him off in the direction of the stairs, and he followed along without objection.
The walk upstairs was pleasantly torturous, and Keerava’s breathing was becoming labored as she walked quickly towards the room they’d be using. She barged in and nearly threw Talen at the bed, stopping to collect herself for a moment. Keerava forced herself to relax, taking deep breaths and standing as normally as she could, until she decided she was calm enough to go ahead with her plan. She stripped down to her scales, some of which glistened from moisture that she was certain hadn’t come from her bladder. Her clothes were tossed haphazardly aside and soon enough she found herself looking at her mate, who was wearing just as much as she was now.
He started to speak. “So, what exactly-“ But she cut him off, holding up one finger and walking quietly to the bed, sitting down on it facing towards him. Keerava got as close to the edge as she could, then leaned back and spread her legs, running a hand invitingly over her lower body.
Talen didn’t need to be told twice – or once, even – and instantly got to his knees and buried his face between her legs, working his magic with his tongue. Slowly at first, almost just teasing, going exactly where he needed to be to get Keerava heated up and wanting more. She leaned back further and closed her eyes as he got more aggressive, her breathing turning into panting as the internal stimulation from her bladder’s fullness only got more pleasurable while Talen worked to stimulate her from the outside. It was nearly overwhelming. Nearly, but she was still in control, if only barely so.
Both feelings only got more intense as time went on, and Keerava found herself letting out shaky moans as every second brought her closer to the edge. More than one edge, really. Talen didn’t seem to be letting up – not that she wanted him to anyways, but if he kept doing what he was doing, he’d surely end up with a face covered in Argonian piss.
He seemed to know the risks, and didn’t seem to care. Neither of them did. Keerava was enjoying herself too much, and Talen enjoyed too much that he was part of that. She’d started grabbing at the sheets, holding as tightly as she could, all the while giving off long, quivering moans of pleasure and pain and pleasure from pain. Her bladder demanded release, and it wasn’t playing nice, but she still had her own priorities and was dead set on delaying its satisfaction until she could get her own.
Her breathing got quicker, each breath now a short, high-pitched ecstatic cry that she hoped nobody else would be able to hear. She was sure she’d ripped a hole in her sheets just by grabbing at them as she was. Keerava felt muscles all over her body tense, and by now there was no doubt that one way or another, the end was inevitable. Her pleasure would overwhelm her and her bladder would burst, and that would be it.
She bolted upright and moved herself away from Talen at the last second. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let it end like that. Some final sensible part of herself told her that, if nothing else, she really didn’t want to be left cleaning all that up later. “Move,” she said quickly, sliding off the bed and pushing Talen out of the way at the same time. She fell into a squatting position almost immediately, and heard the first few drops hit the floor as she reached under the bed, pulling out her oversized pot and sliding it under herself just in time to lose all control.
Keerava felt herself melt as the pleasure overwhelmed her and her urine ran free into the metal container below. She didn’t know what was going on around her, or what exactly she was doing, but it didn’t matter. It felt too good for anything else to be important.
Her senses came back to her slowly. First she felt herself trembling, then heard every moaned breath she took, then at last she could look down and see the torrent she was unleashing – however long it had been, it hadn’t let up one bit since she’d started. There was a reason this pot was bigger than all the others, and this was it. She reached out weakly to Talen, vaguely feeling her hand on his shoulder, and tried to say something, but the only sounds she could make were a garbled mess of moans and grunts, with possibly some incomprehensible Jel syllables thrown in for good measure. What was she even trying to say, anyways? Did it even matter? Talen seemed to get the point, whatever the point was, and he moved in close and wrapped himself around Keerava, keeping her vaguely upright while she continued relieving herself.
It took some time for her stream to weaken even a bit – how much time, nobody knew, for nobody was keeping track – and at this point Keerava let out a deep sigh and pulled herself together again. Her breathing returned to normal, and the waterfall between her legs had become what a normal person would consider a heavy stream, dying down eventually to a trickle that Keerava cut off on her own – she knew that if she let it continue it’d take even longer for it to stop completely, and holding in the tiniest bit of leftover pee wouldn’t be the end of the world. She lifted an arm, indicating for Talen to help her stand, and she rose unsteadily to her feet. One foot casually slid the pot back under the bed then, still in his arms, Keerava looked Talen right in the eye and shoved him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him to return the favor. |
Here we go, lads. The end is upon us!
Keerava awoke, but refused to open her eyes. Her bed was too warm and soft for her to get up right now, so instead she snuggled in closer to Talen, pressing her back against his chest and weaving her tail around his legs. This was absolutely perfect. Everything she could ever want was right there in bed with her, so she could forget about everything else – her business, her debts, her dreams, her name, what year it was, what country she was in, everything. So Keerava gave a contented sigh and tried to let Talen’s warmth lull her back to sleep.
Of course, that’s right about when she finally figured out why she was awake in the first place and noticed the midnight light of the moons filling the room. She groaned quietly as her mind woke up enough to work out that she couldn’t stay in bed for much longer. She had to pee, and it had to be soon. On any other night, she’d just force herself to go back to sleep, or get up and get down to the kitchen to start working. Not this time, though. This time, if she could relax enough to fall asleep, she’d also relax enough to wet herself – and in the absence of any clothes, the contents of her bladder would end up on her scales and sheets. And, sure, the sheets would need a good wash anyways after last night, but still. Those stains would be enough of a problem to deal with on their own, so Keerava really didn’t want to add any yellow ones to the mix.
So, reluctantly, she moved to get out of bed, but much to her annoyance Talen simply pulled her in closer when she tried to get out from under his arm. She tried again, and again she was dragged back. Under better circumstances, Keerava might have found that cute, but right now it was just getting in her way.
Keerava nudged Talen with her elbow and spoke softly to him. “Hey, let me up.” Despite the low volume, the urgency was clear in her voice. Unfortunately the response was just some incoherent mumbling while Talen’s hand moved south, guaranteeing that if Keerava tried to get up again Talen would press against the one part of her that really did not need pressing at the moment. She wiggled around a bit and started to make another attempt at escaping his grasp, but when he started pulling her back she resigned immediately to keep the pressure on her bladder from getting any worse.
‘Well, this is fucked,’ she thought, before following up verbally. “Talen, let go of me, I gotta pee.” She nudged him again but again nothing useful happened, and she was left wiggling while she tried to come up with a plan.
First plan. Just lift his damn arm. With her left hand, Keerava grabbed Talen’s wrist and tried to pull the arm up, but even in his sleep Talen was determined to keep that limb where it was, and with the both of them lying on their sides Keerava couldn’t exactly use her other hand to help.
“Ugh, come on,” she muttered. “I really need to get up now.”
No response. Next plan, then. Turn around. It was a bit awkward to move with Talen’s arm pressing down on her, but she managed to wiggle herself into a position where they were now facing each other.
Now what?
Keerava did the first thing she could think of – with her right hand, which was now on top, she pressed against Talen’s chest and tried to push herself away. But again he simply pushed her back towards him, this time crushing Keerava’s bladder against his body. She felt but refused to think about the warm little droplets she could feel moistening the scales along her inner thighs.
“Wake the fuck up before I piss on us,” she said as soon as she was sure she was in full control of herself. Her hand found its way to his shoulder, and gave him a light shake. When that only elicited a mumble, she shook harder, and this time got a groan out of him.
“Hrhuuh? ‘sit moring?” Talen yawned and looked at Keerava with half-open eyes, the hand he had draped over her moving down to stroke her tail and perhaps even sneak a feel of what was under it.
“No, it’s the middle of the night. I really have to take a leak and you weren’t letting me get up.” She didn’t wait for a response before pushing off against his chest again, this time getting far enough away to gracelessly roll out of bed and nearly crash onto the floor. She hastily dragged her oversized pot out from under the bed and got herself into a squatting position, absolutely ready to relieve herself.
“Ah, fuck.” There was one problem, though.
Talen sat up just enough to see the back of Keerava’s head. “Wha’sup?”
”Fucking…” Keerava had looked down just before she let herself loose, to make sure she was positioned properly, only to find that the pot was still full to the brim from her explosion just a few hours earlier. “Nobody emptied the damn thing. Fuck.” A few drops fell into the pot while Keerava reluctantly moved to an almost-standing position, sliding a hand between her legs and keeping her legs bent at the knees while she desperately tried to come up with an alternative solution.
Talen watched quietly as she took a few steps forward, away from him. He truly didn’t care for her games, but he had to admit that the way she moved when she got like this, the way her hips swayed and her tail twitched and what her body did when she bounced, made her look incredibly beautiful, especially from behind. He was considering offering another round of fun, knowing how much she loved doing that with a full bladder and perhaps even a length of rope, but she turned around and spoke to him before he could make the suggestion.
“Well what in Oblivion do I do now?” Keerava groaned and bent forwards, trying to keep her bladder, exhausted as it was from being pushed to its limit far too often recently, in check for long enough to find a solution. Her eyes were wide open and frantically searching the room for anything that might be commandeered to help her situation.
“You could dump the thing out the window,” Talen said as he stared at his mate’s shifting, perfect legs.
She responded with a groan. “Ugh, yeah, if I bend over to do that I’m fucking done.” The next sound out of her was something of a growl as she tensed up, crossed her legs, and gripped firmly between them with both hands. A second later she groaned again to cover up a short-lived splattering sound by her feet. “Gah, you may be onto something there though. As if I have time to come up with anything else...”
Keerava glanced over at the window just barely out of reach to her right. Thankfully it had been left open all night, and for as shoddy as the inn’s construction was it seemed like the windowsill would be able to support a significant amount of weight if it needed to.
She took a deep breath before hobbling over to the window, bringing one hand out from between her legs as she stumbled forwards and ended up leaning on the windowsill. She pushed herself off to stand up as straight as she could, carefully turning around and then using her free hand to grab the window behind her. One last firm squeeze of her crotch and that hand moved to do the same. She lifted her tail to get it out of the way, one foot went up to press against the wall, and she started to pull herself up. Her face was contorted, eyes closed and teeth showing, as a consequence of the strain of both dragging herself up a wall and trying to hold her urine, even as her stream started just as her feet left the ground. It built up to a proper torrent too quickly for Keerava to get in position, so it was already raining in the room well while she worked at getting herself onto the window. She sighed as she finally made it the rest of the way and dropped herself to sit on the windowsill, wiggling around a bit to get whatever she had left out the window instead of making a puddle below her. Her grip tightened but the rest of her body relaxed, her stream picking up intensity thanks to her no longer making any effort to stop it, and her tail dropping down so it could hang freely and get splashed from offshoots of the waterfall.
Keerava started panting, her breath slowing as her stream did, until she was taking deep breaths with her mouth hanging open while the last of her bladder’s contents were expelled as little more than a mere trickle. When that stopped and was replaced with the occasional single drop, she opened her eyes and leaned back a little to look beneath her. In the moonlight she could make out a little shimmer outlining her puddle on the ground and perhaps a few streams where it fell into cracks in the street, but even from merely the second story of the building it was hard to see anything else. She knew she wouldn’t be able to assess any damage to her wall without falling out the window herself, so she hopped down into a similarly-sized puddle.
“I don’t imagine you’re coming back to bed, then?” Talen spoke with a hint of humor in his voice.
“Eh…” Keerava gave herself a quick visual inspection, though she already knew what had happened to her own body from the feel of wetness all over her lower half. Her tail was dripping and there were little trails of her waters running down her legs, especially on the back side where the moisture outlined where she’d sat in her own puddle. “Doesn’t look like it. Just get me a rag for my feet and something to soak up this with. I’m going to go see about taking a bath.”
Hours later, well after sunrise, Keerava was perfectly clean and dry, wearing one of her usual simple dresses. She had her head resting on the bar with her arms serving as pillows while she tried to get a little more sleep while she had the chance. Talen was idling around in the kitchen behind her and across from her Azhani sat gnawing on a piece of raw bacon. Otherwise there was no indication of life anywhere in the building. Everything was quiet.
Rather odd, considering the fact that the inn happened to be the current residence of a very large man known specifically for his ability to yell at things to make them go away. Somehow, he was nowhere to be seen. It had been decided when he failed to show up for his usual breakfast just after dawn that he must have left especially early on some important errands, so nobody paid his absence much mind. The much more real concern was the absence of people who weren’t him. Even if it was usually quiet, especially in the mornings, there was always someone there for a little breakfast so a little bit of coin could always be expected to come in before lunchtime, but not this time.
So, despite wanting to get some more rest, Keerava was being especially attentive while her head was down. Any hint of that door opening most likely meant she’d be getting paid, and she had to stay awake for that. So she waited and listened.
Eventually, she heard something that caught her attention, nearly jumping into an upright seated position at the muffled sound of jingling mail and heavy metal footsteps just outside. She watched the door, the optimistic look on her face being replaced by confusion and curiosity as two figures in menacing black armor entered. Sure, Keerava recognized their faces, but that armor…
Her confused gaze ended up on a pouch that the Dragonborn dropped onto the bar without a word as soon as he was close enough. “What’s this supposed to be?” She picked up the pouch and gave it a gentle shake. It sounded like money, and a good deal of it.
“It’s everything I owe you,” Bjorn said, his face and voice much more serious than usual. He had his right hand on the counter and his left loosely gripping the pommel of the sword on his belt. “And a little more, as thanks for everything over the past few months. I’m going to be heading off to Whiterun today. I’m going to go finish this. And I don’t know if I’ll be coming back, so I don’t want any loose ends like debts hanging around if I don’t.”
“Oh, wow,” Keerava said with a bit of a gasp as she looked into the pouch. “That explains the armor, I suppose. What is that, ebony?” Not expecting an answer, she looked off to the side for a moment, right at Talen who had decided to come over and look over her shoulder at the money. When she looked back, she gave a little chuckle. “Shit, I never thought I’d have this much gold in my hand at once. This is… Talen, do you know what we could do with this? We can actually get out from under Black-briar’s boot here.” She couldn’t remember the last time she felt genuinely excited like this.
And while the two Argonians talked with each other about all the great things they could do with the coin, Azhani looked over at the Dragonborn and gave his arm a little tug to get his attention. When he looked over at her, she said, “You said you’re going to Whiterun?”
“Yeah, why? You don’t want to come along, do you?”
“Ehh…” Azhani looked around for a moment, searching for nothing but her own thoughts. “Maybe? I, uh… Well, I’d like to at least head in that direction. Um, now that I actually have somewhere to live, I’ve been thinking, and there are some things I need that I can only get from the Baandari. The most reliable Baandari caravan I know of around here is the one that goes to Whiterun, so I just want to go catch up with them and come right back.” Then she shrugged. “I would just ask for you to buy what I need, but honestly I don’t trust you to be able to negotiate with them like I can. Or even understand exactly what I need.”
Bjorn raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you need?”
Azhani waved a hand almost dismissively. “Ah, nothing much. Mostly I’m concerned about sugar. It would be great if I could get a few other things from them too, but I can get those anywhere if I need to. Sugar, though, that I can’t trust if it doesn’t come from a Khajiit, and I don’t think you could recognize good sugar anyways.”
“Meaning… moon sugar?” The hand Bjorn had on the counter went to his chin.
“Well, yeah, what else would it mean?”
Lydia suddenly interjected from just behind her husband. “Moon sugar? Really? You don’t seem like the type that would be into drugs.”
“Okay, see, that’s why I don’t trust you guys to buy it for me.” Azhani gestured intensely with both hands in their direction. “To you it is a drug, yes, but to me… In my religion it is the most sacred thing in the world. I need it, and I need to make sure I’m getting the right sort of sugar, because for as long as I haven’t had a home I haven’t been able to properly observe holidays, and now that this is my home, I would like to get back to that.” She glanced off to the side for a moment. “And, yeah, it tastes really good but that’s beside the point. I cannot cook to save my life anyways so I’d just ruin it if I tried to use it in food. It’s purely religious.”
“Sorry, what’s all this about moon sugar?” Keerava leaned in, finally able to pull herself away from the shiny things in the bag she’d been given. “We’re not talking skooma, are we? I can’t have you stinking up the place with that garbage. Not my business what you’re into, but, you know, not in here.”
Azhani looked as if she had been personally insulted. “Skooma? No, never! That would be blasphemy!” She shook her head lightly. “No, just sugar. I might have to burn a little bit of it sometimes, maybe even smoke some, but that’s completely different from that mutilated horseshit those zombies in the sewers are on. That shit is like tar, but good sugar is… well, it’s sugar. It burns hot, there’s not a lot of smoke, and it makes the place smell sweet.”
“Eh… Yeah, okay. I’m a bit too used to people around here being on the hardcore stuff, just kinda assumed that’s what we were talking about, sorry. Moon sugar, though, I wouldn’t get in trouble for letting you have that here, so it’s all good. Just keep it to your room for me.”
“Oh, of course. Yeah, no problem. And, uh, you’re okay with me going off for a while, yes?”
Keerava threw her hands up. “Pfft, yeah, you go do whatever you want. Talen and I can always handle things here on our own. We’ve been doing it for years before you got here, after all.”
Azhani nodded and looked up at the Dragonborn again. “So, what do you say? You’d just have to get me there, or in the general direction of there, and I’ll find my own way back. Just figure, you know, why go separately when you’re already heading that way?”
“Eh, why not,” came the response. “If you’re sure it’s a good idea, then I’ve got no objections.”
“Yeahhh…” Azhani drew that word out as long as she could before needing to breathe again, then inhaled almost with a hiss. “Probably not the best idea to go to Whiterun, all things considered, but... I don’t really need to go into town unless the caravan’s not got there yet. And then I’d probably just lay low at an inn or something if I can find one that won’t kick me out for having a tail.” Then she shrugged and started picking at scraps of meat on the plate in front of her.
“Uh-huh… I’m going to just assume that’s not a conversation I want to get myself wrapped up in, so… How about some breakfast, then? Don’t want to head out without something to eat, after all.” Bjorn took a seat and leaned onto the counter while Lydia sat down at his side. “And, uh, I’m gonna need that thing I left here.”
Keerava nodded. “You got it.” She turned around and called for Talen to start cooking something, then turned back and reached under the counter to procure the wrapped-up package the Dragonborn was keeping there. “And there’s that, too.”
“Excellent.” The Dragonborn first took off his gauntlets and set them onto the counter next to the package, did the same with the gloves beneath, and with his bare hands he started fiddling with the strings holding the package together as delicately as he could. In time he had removed several layers of cloth and exposed a small but thick wooden box with a hefty latch on it. Azhani watched with a sort of bored curiosity as the box was opened even more carefully. She recoiled upon seeing what was inside, her eyes going as wide as possible while she audibly gasped.
“That cannot be…” She reached out for a moment to touch the thing, before grabbing that hand with her other, suddenly remembering why that wasn’t a good idea. The books she’d read about the Nerevarine couldn’t seem to agree on what his face looked like, but damned if they didn’t all go into excruciating detail regarding his two most famous weapons. One of which was right there in front of her.
Keerava seemed surprised, too. “That is what’s been sitting under my bar since yesterday?”
“Yup. Genuine Keening,” the Dragonborn said, sounding almost disinterested as he carefully picked the thing up – getting a few surprised noises from Azhani as she looked on in awe at his hands not melting as she’d read they were supposed to – and slid it into a small scabbard just under his sword. “I didn’t say anything about it ‘cause it’s easier to keep it safe if nobody knows what it is.”
Azhani shook herself from her little trance and tipped her head to the side. “Wait, are you sure that’s real? I don’t think you’re supposed to be able to hold the real thing like that.”
“Oh yeah, it’s real. I guess it’s just lost a lot of its power, so it won’t do too much to me if I carry it around. I wouldn’t advise touching it, though, just to be safe. It doesn’t hurt me but I don’t know what’d happen to someone else.”
“And where’s the rest of the set, then?” Keerava asked while Talen walked up with a tray of food, stopping for a moment to register that he wasn’t imagining the legendary artifact on the belt of the guy sitting across the bar. “Supposed to be a hammer and a glove.”
Bjorn shrugged. “Beats me. I’m still not even entirely sure where this was dug up, so fuck if I know what’s going on with the other two.” Then he shoved a piece of meat into his mouth, and only spoke again once it was no longer in the way. “So,” he said, looking over at Azhani. “If you’re coming along, you should probably go get everything you need together. I’d like to leave sooner rather than later, and, you know, if I don’t have to wait for you…”
“Yeah, I get it. I don’t have a whole lot…” Azhani trailed off into a bit of a laugh at her own expense. “Ah, but, yes, I’ll get some clothes together, I suppose.” She stood up and stumbled, trying to remember how her legs worked after being seated essentially since she woke up. She sorted herself out by leaning onto the bar for a moment, before pushing off and slowly heading upstairs.
Azhani left the door cracked open when she got to her room, ignoring the little stash of different clothes she had lying in a corner and instead heading for the window. She threw it open and leaned forward against the windowsill, her head sticking out with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. A cool morning breeze ruffled her fur while her ears flicked reflexively in response to the little bit of wind. Her eyes opened when the air settled down, and she casually looked out over what she could see of the town. A few people were roaming about on whatever business they had, and in the distance she could hear the chatter of the marketplace while the locals surrendered what little coin they could spare to the merchants selling those baubles of theirs.
It almost reminded her of her time with the caravans – whenever those pedlars weren’t moving, they were camped out trying to talk some poor sap into spending his last two septims on an “exotic luxury item” that was really just some household trash brought up from Anequina or Pellitine. No wonder people in Skyrim didn’t like Khajiit, if that was all they’d ever seen of them. And no wonder the pedlars stayed out of the homeland – the Baandari were supposed to be an honorable organization, and going back home with a reputation for scamming honest people out of hard-earned money would… Well, nobody ever filled Azhani in on what would happen then, but she assumed it wouldn’t be particularly fun.
At least there were still a few honest people around, and Azhani knew the pedlars running the caravan to Whiterun were among them. They couldn’t afford not to be, after all. Trying to run a scam on Skyrim’s center of trade wouldn’t just be a stain on their honor – they’d go completely broke too! She was confident they’d have what she needed, and that her experience with them would let her whittle them down to a good price for it without them trying to pull tricks on her.
A sparkle in the corner of her view dragged Azhani’s attention from her thoughts. She looked towards the source, leaning forward just a bit to get a better view. She scanned the area quickly, and her gaze settled on a part of the road adjacent to the inn, just a few rooms down. A puddle there seemed to have caught the morning light in just the right way to shine a bit. But… why was there a puddle there to begin with? It hadn’t rained in ages.
Then again, this place did serve alcohol. It was probably just some drunk heading home last night, stopping for a piss on the way. It was a bit disgusting, but who was Azhani to judge when she’d done the same herself on countless occasions? And while sober, no less!
Come to think of it, if she was going to be heading out of town, she’d probably want to make sure to drain herself before doing so became inconvenient. So she pulled herself back into the room, leaving the window open so she could still get hints of the nice breeze, then strolled across to the other side of the room to shut and lock the door to make sure nobody would interrupt.
From there it was trivial. As she’d done so many times before, Azhani walked over to the bed, pulled her pot out from under it, stripped, squatted over the pot, and relaxed. The result was a pitiful little trickle that barely lasted a few seconds, but that was a pleasant change of pace from nearly wetting herself just about every other day.
She gave herself a little shake to dry off once she was done, then just redressed and put together what little stuff she would need for the journey: her coin purse, and a few sets of clothes. That still felt weird just to think about – that she had money and a variety of clothing. For so long she’d have been lucky to have one septim and a shirt. Usually it ended up being a choice between one or the other, and she’d almost always pick the septim.
But that was a different time, and as far as Azhani was concerned a different person. That just wasn’t her anymore – it might have been once, but now she was making a good, honest living, and it was hard to adjust to a safe, stationary life after all that time. Perhaps going on this trip would do her a bit of good in that regard. It’d get her out and about like she used to be, except this time the people she’d be travelling with weren’t expecting her to give them any favors in exchange for the protection.
Azhani shook her head and grabbed all the stuff she’d packed for her trip. No use thinking about the past, though. Nothing she could do to change any of that. So she headed for the door, unlocked it and swung it open, and was just about to step out of the room when she remembered something else she usually wouldn’t have had – her shoes, and even then she only remembered them because she noticed that her feet were bare and needed to be wrapped if she wanted to go on a long trip. Then she remembered she had a pair of shoes stowed away somewhere, which would be much better than a little cloth.
She set down the bag she was bringing with her and set about trying to figure out where she’d left them. She hadn’t worn them since the day she got them, partly because they were never necessary, and partly because of what had happened to them that day that caused her to go out and wash them the next. But other than that, they were damn fine shoes.
Fortunately, they were in the first place she checked – tucked away into a corner of the room near the bed. Out of the way, but easily accessible. Azhani retrieved them and spent a minute sitting on the bed getting them on and lacing them up. Now she was ready.
Azhani actually turned out to be the first to get herself ready. Somehow, she’d had time to stare out a window, relieve herself, and lazily collect her clothing and money all before the two experienced adventurers got their things together. She was waiting for them just outside the inn’s front door, and when they came out they were as surprised as she was that she’d been so quick.
The Dragonborn, however, didn’t seem to care much beyond the initial confusion, and simply headed off in the direction of the south gate, a little wave of his hand indicating that his wife and Azhani should follow.
“Wouldn’t the north gate be faster?” Azhani was just barely keeping pace with Bjorn, and he slowed down a bit to answer her question.
“It would be, but if we leave town from the south, the entire route to Whiterun is along a river, which is convenient for us because it means we don’t have to carry lots of supplies. Just some food and enough drink to get us to our first camp.”
“Oh, that makes sense. No cart this time, then?”
“Nope. Just horses. I actually only have the two so you’re gonna have to share Lydia’s if you don’t mind.”
“And if you do mind, you can walk the whole way,” Lydia added with a pinch of sarcasm.
The tip of Azhani’s tail twitched. “Well, I could do with some exercise…”
“Shit, you really think so?” The Dragonborn looked at Azhani with a raised eyebrow. “Man, if anything, you need to sit around doing nothing more. Get some meat on those bones, lady.”
“Smaller frame is better for sneaking,” Azhani muttered.
“Yeah and it means a light breeze will knock you on your ass.” Bjorn chuckled. “You think anything’s gonna knock someone built like me down?” He made a fist and knocked on his chestplate to prove his point.
Azhani rolled her eyes. “I saw you almost get knocked off a mountain by a dragon.”
“Hey, Alduin doesn’t count. And I stayed on the mountain, right? Totally doesn’t count.”
Lydia slapped him on the back near his shoulder. “And I suppose that scar across your chest doesn’t count either? I hear you were coughing up blood. Quit acting so tough, your dumb ass nearly died.”
“Love you too, hon.” Bjorn laughed and was promptly rewarded with a little shove that caused him to stumble.
Azhani slowed down to her usual walking speed, letting the other two carry on their play-fight in peace as they kept on ahead of her. Her tail calmly swished around behind her as she watched them. The sight reminded her of how her and her sister used to tease each other when they were kids, and she actually pulled off as much of a smile as her anatomy would allow. Sure, the memories of her sister whom she’d accepted she’d never see again hurt, but for some reason seeing the Dragonborn and his wife enjoying themselves – and each other – made her feel good.
Things were really looking up for her. When was the last time anyone else’s happiness made her feel happy too, and not jealous of their good fortune? When was the last time she’d even been in the company of anyone who wasn’t just looking out for themselves? Azhani couldn’t remember, but she was glad that these things were happening now. She had a good life, a good home, a good job, and she knew good people. And perhaps with a little bit of luck she’d even get to go on a good adventure or two. Just like old times. |
Fun fact: my word document for this, which is slightly different than the released story because of revisions that couldn't be made to the blog or thread and also notes to myself about what day everything is, is at 108,674 total words. This chapter alone makes up 7751 of them.
Some hours later, the three were making their way west along the southern coast of Lake Honrich, moving at a modest pace – for, according to the Dragonborn, there would be no immediate danger were they to simply take their time. They were quiet, the only sounds for a good deal of time being those of the two horses’ footfalls on the cobbled road, muffled by the jingling of armaments, and the occasional bird call or rustling in the nearby bushes.
Azhani’s small stature allowed her to sit in front of Lydia, the larger woman simply reaching around the little Khajiit to work the reins. Feeling Lydia shift her position behind her slightly, Azhani’s tail twitched at the tip, its owner satisfied with the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with sitting in such a position for so long – not being used to riding horses, Azhani was hoping they’d stop soon so she’d get a chance to walk around and stretch to relieve the soreness just below her tail.
Evidently they’d be stopping a lot sooner than she thought. Lydia pulled her horse to a sudden halt and looked over at her husband. “Uh… You know you’re glowing, right?”
“What?” Bjorn stopped his own horse, more gradually, and looked down at himself. “Oh. Um… That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense…” He dismounted and crept forward, following the beam of light that seemed to be connecting him to something else. “A dragon died must have died here, but I wasn’t around for it.”
Lydia helped Azhani to get off the horse, then her own boots hit the ground shortly thereafter. “You figure the town guard went and killed it?” She followed the Dragonborn from a bit of a distance, just in case anything should happen, and Azhani simply looked over in their direction with her head cocked to the side. “Or another dragon?”
“Wouldn’t have a soul left over for me if it were another dragon,” Bjorn said, peeking around a boulder and watching the dragon’s corpse disintegrate. “This was people. Could be town guard, I suppose…” When the light finally faded, he knelt before the dragon’s remains. “But I don’t think so…” He waved at Lydia to come closer, and Azhani wandered over behind the two of them as well. Standing with straight legs to look over Lydia’s armored shoulder, Azhani noticed that the dragon’s skull seemed to have caved in, and her ears twitched at the unpleasant thoughts of how that might have happened. “I don’t know anyone who can do this,” the Dragonborn said, pointing to the bone fragments. “I didn’t even think you could break dragon bones like that.” Then he stood up and walked around slowly to investigate the rest of the skeleton. “And a bunch of these ribs are cracked, and… that’s taken a pretty nasty hit too. And over here-”
“Well, either way, it’s dead,” Lydia interjected, casually shifting her weight between feet. “Does it really matter how beat up it is? Someone somewhere helped us out by killing the bastard, and you got a free soul out of it. So it broke some bones in the fight. Big deal. Let’s move on.”
“Yeah, yeah, but… I don’t know what the fuck could have done this. It’s nice that it killed a dragon but…” Bjorn looked around at the ground for a moment. “… But it looks like it killed it alone. Something killed this fucker on its own, and I want to know what it is because if it can kill a dragon without any help, I’d like to know if it’s on our fucking side!”
Lydia stepped forward with an arm held out. “Calm down. We can worry about that later. Right now, we need to keep moving.” Her husband reluctantly accepted her hand, and she added with a lightly mocking tone, “Maybe we’ll even run into whatever killed the thing later.”
The two continued a quiet conversation between themselves as they passed by Azhani, whose ears fell at the prospect of more riding when she’d hardly had any time to recover from the first few hours. But she walked over to the horses anyways, and looked over at Bjorn who had already mounted up again, and at Lydia who seemed to be waiting impatiently for her next to her own horse. Her gaze shifted between the two for a little while before she spoke up.
“Could we not stay here a little bit longer?” She was wringing her hands, already sure she knew the answer. “The, uh… horse is kind of uncomfortable and I want to rest a bit first.”
“Rather not,” Bjorn said. “Lydia’s right, we’ve got to cover a lot of ground every day, and there’s only a couple of hours of daylight left.”
Lydia, meanwhile, folded her arms. “You need a piss, don’t you?” She glanced over at the Dragonborn for a moment. “Should have known that’d be a problem,” she said, looking back at Azhani. “But hey, I guess we’re already stopped so…”
“N-no, that’s not it. I mean, I could, but I think I’ll be fine.” Azhani looked between the two again and shrugged. “I’ve never rid a horse before, so my butt’s kind of starting to hurt. That’s all.”
The Dragonborn could be heard trying to stop himself from laughing. “Really? Ah, well, I think you’re just gonna have to deal with it. We’ll be stopped by sunset, you can rest all you like then.” Then he looked over at the Khajiit and raised an eyebrow. “But seriously, we’re stopped now, so you can go take another minute if…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Azhani insisted, stepping closer to Lydia who helped her get into her place on the horse before climbing up herself. “If we need to keep moving, that is okay. I don’t want to disrupt your plan.”
Bjorn shrugged and got his horse walking again. “A’ight.”
Lydia followed along on her own horse, and Azhani could feel her shifting around a bit, before finally settling down with a barely audible groan.
Azhani was really starting to regret not taking the opportunity for a quick break when it had been offered to her. She knew she wasn’t in danger of wetting herself – metaphorically, of course, since she physically wouldn’t be able to do that around other people anyways – but her current situation really wasn’t helping matters. Being seated on a horse as she was meant her legs were forced apart, and if she didn’t want to fall off she needed to keep a grip on something with both of her hands. She’d picked the horse’s mane, which probably wasn’t all that comfortable for the animal either, but then again the heavily-armored woman just behind her was almost certainly a far greater burden.
On that note, Azhani was glad that at the very least she was in front of Lydia and not behind her. Had she been behind, she wouldn’t be able to stay mounted without leaning forward and pressing her belly into the huskarl’s unyielding ebony plate. She wasn’t in the mood to consider what effects that might have on her.
But of course things not being as bad as they could have been didn’t in itself do anything to alleviate what pressure was already there. It didn’t mean that Azhani wanted any less to emulate the river they’d constantly have at their side, and do so soon. Very soon, ideally.
“We gonna stop any time soon?”
That wasn’t her voice. That came from behind her. From Lydia, who, if Azhani could get over her own squirming for a minute, seemed to be unable to find any comfortable position in her saddle.
“Yeah, in about an hour or two. There’s some really good camping land about that far out, and we can get there before sunset.”
Lydia grumbled quietly, but not so quietly that Azhani couldn’t hear, then composed herself and said, “Alright.”
Azhani could tell it wasn’t actually alright. Lydia was trying her best to hide her need but it was obvious to the little Khajiit that she wasn’t the only one with a full bladder on that horse. Not that knowing so helped matters – if anything the confirmation that they’d both have to wait longer just made it worse.
Still, it was inspiration to create a bit of a distraction, so the Khajiit spoke hesitantly: “So, eh, what are you going to do after you finish this quest… thing?”
The response was a light groan and snappy speech. “We don’t have a plan. It’s a bad habit to make plans for after something you’re probably gonna get killed doing.”
“That’s rather pessimistic, no?”
“You think so? We’re going off to kill a god, Azhani. It doesn’t matter how strong I am or how many souls he’s eaten, that’s not exactly weighted in our favor.”
“It’s been done before,” Azhani spoke, almost a mumble. She understood why Lydia was annoyed right now but it didn’t make her feel any less like she was being chastised.
“By the Nerevarine.”
“Yeah.”
“The Nerevarine, who had divine tools and used them to kill mortal gods.”
Azhani tipped her head to the side. “Can it really be that different?”
“I assume so.” Lydia paused for a moment to groan and compose herself. “Haah, look, I can either focus on having this theological debate, or I can focus on not pissing my pants. And I really need to pay attention to that second thing right now.”
The little Khajiit nodded and gave a disappointed sigh. She was hoping a conversation would keep her distracted, but now there was nobody to talk to – the Dragonborn was far enough away that a conversation with him would necessarily be a shouting match, and with his being Dragonborn, that wasn’t exactly ideal. It’d work out fine as long as it didn’t escalate to the other kind of Shouting, and of course it wouldn’t, but… why even take the risk at all?
On that note, how long had it been since he said they’d need to wait another hour? Ten minutes? Five? Less than a minute? If only there were some way to tell. The Altmer, Azhani knew, had been making clocks for thousands of years, so why hadn’t anyone else figured it out and made a portable version yet?
Not that it really mattered. Whether she had to wait another five hours or five minutes, Azhani couldn’t do anything to speed things up. She’d just have to wait however long it would take to reach somewhere to settle in for the evening. Could she do that without breaking something? A moment to squirm around a little and evaluate her condition revealed… Yeah, she could. Oh, sure, she had to go, and quite urgently at that, but it’s not like she was frantic or anything. The liquid weight she could feel in her abdomen was getting uncomfortable and stretching her out a little, and she wished she could do anything about it beyond just awkward wiggling, but otherwise she had everything under control for now. Yet another testament to the effectiveness of Keerava’s unusual training.
Lydia, though? She seemed to be worse off, and since Azhani had always seen her as being so much stronger, that was just a little bit concerning. Then again that could easily be explained by her husband sharing Keerava’s eccentricities, perhaps meaning she’d not relieved herself immediately before setting out as Azhani had.
But that wasn’t something Azhani wanted to think about. It wouldn’t do her any good. What would help, though, would be to just focus on the nature all around, and try to ignore the more inconvenient parts of it like the river. Just keep her mind on the trees and rocks and grass and whatever else, anything but her own body or running water.
Or perhaps sand? Sand, after all, is what deserts are made of, and Azhani had plenty of memories of Anequine deserts to sift through and focus on. She’d done her fair share of exploring there as a cub, after all, and as such could easily recall countless pleasant images, reminders of her old home. Specifically, the great canyons of the Scar, too dangerous for her and her sister to explore up close, but attractive enough that they’d always toe the line as much as Azhani would allow before getting scared off. But when she wasn’t getting scared of the creatures she’d been told lived down in the Scar’s ravines, she loved the feeling of the nice hot sand under her toes and the beautiful, imposing sandstone cliffs.
But then the savannahs were nice too, weren’t they? Rimmen itself was on a nice little open plain, where Azhani and her sister spent most of their time if they weren’t specifically exploring elsewhere. She could almost feel the warm, dry breeze over the fields if she really committed to the memory. And what else was there? Hakoshae was nice enough, according to Azhani’s memories, though she’d only been there once or twice because her sister wanted to see if there were still any Tsaesci living there – which, come to think of it, was also why they’d spend a lot of time outside the Tonenaka, waiting and hoping that one of the snake-men would come out.
They’d even made a whole day of that one summer. The weather had been too nice to head inside and the elves had the good sense to leave the Tonenaka alone, so they’d got a little basket of food from their mother and spent all day in Rimmen’s palace district trying to find a way to see the ten thousand Akaviri statues inside the shrine.
Azhani brought up one hand to rub at her eyes for a moment before returning it to where it was. What ever happened to innocent little ja’Khajiit Azhani?
Oh, right.
Well, that wasn’t a good line of thought to go down. Acting quickly to pull her mind to something else, Azhani dragged herself back to reality, deciding she’d rather focus on her powerful desire to urinate than break down over memories better left buried.
So she focused on her bladder, and its demands to be emptied as soon as possible. Still well enough under control, but definitely a good bit worse than the last time she’d checked up on it. She didn’t want to look down to confirm, but she was pretty sure her bladder was making her a fair bit rounder than normal right now. It felt heavy and full, the pressure constant and, now that she was managing to drown out the river sounds, dull enough to remain tolerable for a little while yet. She’d been through far worse before. She could handle this.
But what of-
“Uggh…” A strained groan from behind answered Azhani’s question before she could come up with an answer herself. “Hey,” Lydia called out to the Dragonborn up ahead. “I need to pee yesterday. Where are we stopping?”
“Oh, it’s not far, don’t worry.” He didn’t look back or anything, and his voice was calm and strangely apathetic – Azhani expected him to sound excited. Perhaps he liked pretending not to care? He was weird, so perhaps that was it.
“Not far, my ass,” Lydia muttered. She groaned again and squirmed to the best of her ability, ultimately settling down with an annoyed sigh. Then she seemed to address Azhani. “You know his definition of ‘not far’ is ‘less than ten miles’? Pfft. Ten miles is pretty damn far when you’ve got a lake in a balloon being squeezed by plate armor.”
“How much time is that, ten miles?”
Lydia shrugged, but Azhani wasn’t looking at her to see it. “Hour, hour and a half, maybe. So pretty much it’s the same as last time I asked.” She sighed again. “I know what he’s doing, what he’s waiting for. Just need to see how long I can wait for it.” Then she shut up and went back to shifting around as much as she could while maintaining correct riding posture.
Azhani, for her part, twitched her ears and settled down to find something else to keep her mind off of her body. After forcing herself to ignore the mounting pressure within, she was eventually able to drift over to thoughts about her current situation and her future, mainly questioning if any of it were actually real. The discomfort around her belly was a decent indication that this was not, in fact, a dream – not definitive, since she used to wake up more frequently than she would have liked because the full bladder she’d fallen asleep with had infiltrated her dreams, so she had to rely on the fact that she was currently wearing shoes, of all things, to guarantee that she was not asleep nor hallucinating. After all, just half a year ago, owning shoes made specifically for her own feet wasn’t even something she could have dreamt of dreaming about.
All this good fortune… why? What had caused her life to be so good? Could it be as simple as coincidence, all of this happening to her only because she happened to be on the verge of wetting herself a few months ago and just happened to use the last of her money to get a room at an inn that just happened to be run by an Argonian with a pee fetish who was willing to let her stay there in exchange for work? Had she stopped to relieve herself on the way, would she have ever even gone into that inn? Probably not – the Ragged Flagon had serviceable sleeping quarters for guild members who needed them, and at the time she was a guild member, in Riften on guild business.
So would she have even been there if she hadn’t joined the guild? Maybe, but why? Riften wasn’t exactly a rich city – it had its share of decent marks, but not as many as Solitude or Whiterun in her experience. The only other way she knew how to make a living, she’d given up on after leaving Cyrodiil – a province which she shouldn’t be thinking about at the moment – so it’s not like she could have gone to Riften to do that.
But then, if she hadn’t taken up that profession in the first place, maybe she never would have had a reason to go to Skyrim. If not for choosing that specific means to pay for her travel with Baandari caravans through the unmentionable province, she never would have…
Azhani vigorously shook her head and tried to take a deep breath. “Not going there again,” she muttered quietly. Then she looked around and tried to breathe a little slower once she noticed that she was nearly panting. Apparently distracting herself by finding other things to think about would just keep leading her to places she didn’t want to be.
With one hand, she gave the bulge in her abdomen a quick investigative rub, finding it to be obnoxiously firm – not hard, but just tough enough that pressing down on it would be a terrible idea. She sighed and returned the hand to what it was doing. There was no escaping it. She had to pee.
The little Khajiit briefly considered asking for a stop – at least two-thirds of the small travelling party were full of fluid that wanted very much to get out, so perhaps her request would be honored if she were to simply voice it. But then, Lydia was surely worse off than she was, and if the big strong Nord hadn’t demanded they stop, or outright stopped on her own, there didn’t seem to be much chance of them listening to a scrawny cat.
So she decided that she would wait. It wasn’t her favorite option, but she’d been through worse and still come out dry, so this wouldn’t be a problem at all. All she had to do was bear the pressure for another hour, then she’d be free to relieve herself in peace. Afterwards, perhaps she could take a nice bath – it’d help keep her calm and focused, and she needed to wash up anyways. Not being Khajiit themselves, her human comrades couldn’t pick up on the odor of Azhani’s pheromones, and even she was blind to most of what she was giving off, but she knew her own scent. She knew too, since she was just short of a week into her current seasonal affliction, that her scent was powerful and sending the wrong message. Hopefully they’d brought soap.
That was a problem for later, though. For now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for an indeterminate amount of time. Great. It would be easier to ignore her bladder if Azhani could get down and walk, but then if she could do that she could also just go run off to take care of it and then try to catch up with the others again. ‘Bright moons, that would be nice,’ she mentally told herself. ‘Would also be nice to have something to eat… Hm, maybe there will be some birds or rats to catch on the way to camp.’
She amused herself for a moment with her little private joke, but the joke didn’t do anything to ease any of the sensations she was feeling at the moment – a peculiar mix of emptiness and fullness from the same area, both indicating problems that could be solved around the same time and were better dealt with sooner than later.
Turning her head as much as she could to look back (and up) at Lydia, she said, “So, do you have anything to eat with you?”
Lydia looked distracted. “Huh?” She gave her head a quick shake and looked down. “Oh, there might be a bit of food in the saddlebags. Maybe some bread or something. Are you even supposed to eat bread?”
“Khajiit can eat things made of plants. Sugarcane is a plant, and we put sugar in everything, yes? The only thing is that we need meat.” Azhani turned to look through whatever bags she could reach without needing to lean too far or use both hands, not paying attention to Lydia’s shrug and trying to have the same level of apathy for her bladder’s protests. “Actually, Khajiiti bakers make the best cakes. If I knew how to cook I’d make them all the time.”
A brief session of pawing through the bags yielded a few scrolls, an old book or two, and a handful of little bottles with either red, green, or blue liquid in them. And, most importantly, a little wrapped-up chunk of bread that smelled vaguely of meat – no doubt part of a larger piece that had been eaten alongside a stew of some sort. It seemed slightly stale, like it had been forgotten in that bag for a little while longer than it should have stayed there, but it wasn’t inedible.
Azhani inspected the bread, sniffing it and checking for any visible evidence of things growing on it. She determined that the only thing wrong with it was it was a little hard and had a bit of dirt on it, and decided that she’d definitely had worse, so she settled down for a little snack, making sure to give the bread a good brushing with her fingers to clean it off.
She felt the liquid inside her shift around uncomfortably as her position changed, but forced herself not to think about it too much. Instead, she did her best to work through her food, and was surprised to find that the taste of stale bread disturbed her as much as it did. Mere months had apparently been more than enough for her to become accustomed to a more wholesome diet than scavenged scraps.
It was strange, and Azhani tried not to worry about it too much – it was food, after all, and she was hungry, which meant it was better than no food. So she sat squirming and eating her bread, only to discover another problem by the time she was half finished: she was thirsty. She needed to drink something, and she needed to pee quite badly. Not a good combination.
She gave a little hiss then opened and closed her mouth repeatedly to try to do something about the dry feeling in her throat, but there was nothing for it but to drink. And even if she wanted to do that, the only things she’d found had been potions, and she had a feeling they wouldn’t be particularly hydrating and would do little more than exacerbate her bladder troubles. As if on cue, the pressure there suddenly mounted to a sharp sensation that forced Azhani to press herself down against the horse a bit more than was appropriate, slowly returning to her original position when her bladder settled down again. Still dry, of course.
Azhani glanced over in the Dragonborn’s direction once she was sure nothing more would happen to disturb her delicate internal balance. He didn’t show any sign of slowing down any time soon. So with a sigh, she leaned over to look through the bags on the side she hadn’t checked last time. All she needed was a little water, or booze, or anything else she could drink that wasn’t magical and had effects that she already knew about. Her tail flicked in annoyance when again her bladder voiced its disapproval of her change in position.
Rifling through this other bag turned up more scrolls and a small glass bottle, this one with clear liquid in it. Azhani tore the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and leaned in to smell its contents. Seemed enough like water for her, and though she was sure she would regret it she pulled the cork from her mouth with the same hand that held the bottle, then tipped her head back and downed the entire bottle at once.
She returned to her original posture with a sigh, slipping the empty bottle back into the bag it came from while continuing to ignore the additional complaints from within as she added more liquid to her system. Her ears and tail flicked again while she groaned and tried to settle down. Azhani tried to focus more on the wind messing up the braid she’d so painstakingly tied her hair into that morning than on what was happening inside her body. But now the pressure between her legs was enough that even when she tried to ignore it it was still there, still begging her to just give in already.
‘Soon,’ she told herself, convinced that they had to have been travelling long enough now that they would be stopping any minute. She tried to press her legs together, and just growled quietly when she remembered that her position meant there was no way for her to do that. Then she tried instead to sit as upright as possible, figuring that if she didn’t lean forwards too much she wouldn’t put any undue stress on the distension in her abdomen, but it seemed there was only one way she could relieve that pressure by now. Nothing else she could think of would help anymore.
So focused was Azhani on her own need that she didn’t notice Lydia’s situation growing more dire, meaning she was unprepared for the horse to suddenly stop and rear up, nearly throwing her off. The sudden movement caused her to make a noise resembling some mixture of a meow and a squeak, and once she was sure she wouldn’t fall down her first thought was to check to ensure that she was still dry – all was well on that front, aside from the intense desire to change that.
“Okay, no, we’re stopping here,” Lydia called out from behind her, clearly directed at the Dragonborn. “Now hurry up and help me out of this armor before I piss in it!” She jumped off the horse and stumbled, frantically grabbing at the ties holding her leg armor together.
Azhani stopped paying attention at that point, dismounting as calmly as she could in her condition and quickly rummaging through Lydia’s bags with her legs crossed. Her ears fell flat against her head and her tail twitched when she initially didn’t find what she was looking for, and as the search continued she started bouncing and waving her tail more erratically.
Just when she was ready to give up, she found a little rag and a bar of something vaguely resembling butter which she recognized as an expensive piece of soap. Her ears returned to their normal positions and her tail slowed down now that she was satisfied with her discovery, and she immediately headed off as quickly as she could in the direction of the river. Now that she was intentionally listening for it, there was no problem locating it, though that also made her feel like she was about to explode. At least now she didn’t need to suppress that feeling, since she actually would get a chance to deal with it very soon.
She cast a glance over at Lydia as she passed – there were several black metal pieces scattered around by her feet, which the Dragonborn was hastily picking up – but immediately looked away when the woman started tugging her thick pants down and lowering herself into a squat. Azhani also started moving a little quicker so she wouldn’t have to listen to what she knew would happen next.
When Azhani got to the river, she dropped her washcloth and soap near its shore and looked around, a thought suddenly occurring to her. She shoved one hand between her legs while she quickly came up with a way to do something she’d wanted to try for some time. Hurrying over to a nearby tree, she first pulled off her shoes and set them aside where she was fairly sure they would be safe. Then, since she was planning on bathing anyways, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it onto a low-hanging branch.
Then she looked down. Her heartbeat and breathing were faster than normal, but more importantly she felt like she was going to wet herself very soon, and it felt like that was equally possible if she stood there doing nothing or if she bent down to get her pants out of the way. She slipped her thumbs down her waistband, making sure to get both the pants and what was under them, then carefully slid them down as far as she could without bending over.
Now the hard part. Azhani leaned forward slightly, putting one hand against the tree in front of her and lifting the opposite leg. She groaned and dropped it again, slipping a hand into her now-exposed crotch for a minute. Her fingers came back wet once she’d composed herself. With a deep breath, she lifted that leg again and immediately brought it into a position where she could slide her lower clothing off of it entirely, forcing herself to fight through any complaints from her body before bringing that foot down to the ground in a bit of a stomp. Azhani heard the slightest splash of a few drops hitting the ground between her legs at the same time.
She switched which hand was pushing against the tree and brought up her other leg, giving it a quick shake and sliding her pants off the rest of the way, letting them fall to the ground unceremoniously and get kicked off to the side.
With both feet now on the ground and wearing only her fur, Azhani adopted a wide stance and had one hand pressing up between her legs. She shifted around slightly so that her hips were a bit more forward, and spread the fingers on the hand she was holding herself with, watching to ensure she could tell what she was doing down there. She experimented briefly with hand positions before giving up and allowing herself to use both hands to spread her lips in a way that she hoped meant she’d have decent aim. Then she let go.
A weak trickle quickly accelerated into a respectable stream that hit the trunk of the tree in front of Azhani, splashing back against her feet in a way that caused her to stumble for a moment before adjusting herself enough to be mostly out of the way.
Satisfied with what she’d accomplished, Azhani closed her eyes and sighed. As always, it felt good to empty herself after a good few hours of waiting, and there was something amusingly foreign about doing it while stood upright. For a minute she relaxed and took in the sounds of running water – behind her that of the Treva, and in front of her the trickling of her own river and the pattering sound from where it connected with wood.
Azhani’s tail swayed gently behind her while she enjoyed her relief, until her stream started to slow down and land more directly beneath her. Then her tail bushed up and her eyes opened to watch her feet get splashed with her own urine, though as her bladder was now just about empty there wasn’t anything she could do about it but let it run its course. She’d be washing up anyways, so getting a little wet wasn’t a big deal.
Once there was little more than a few drops coming from her, Azhani wiped herself off with a finger, which she then rubbed against her thigh, and headed over to the river, sitting down on the ground next to her cleaning supplies. She grabbed her hair and brought it around to the front, letting the braided mass rest on one shoulder while she gently worked at untying it.
A cool breeze made her shiver despite her having by now grown out her full winter coat, and she looked over at where she’d left her clothes. They seemed fine for now, but she’d need to make sure they wouldn’t be blown away and leave her to walk back to camp naked and cold.
As soon as her hair was loose and thrown back behind her, Azhani got up and retrieved her clothes and shoes, bringing them all over to where she’d been sitting and making a neat little pile. She took the time to make sure everything was folded nicely – or as close to as possible, given she didn’t have much experience with folding clothes – and sighed when she got to her underwear. She knew she’d have to wash her clothes anyways, but the little wet patch told her that it was even more important that she do so now. Azhani mentally kicked herself for not bringing a set to change into, and turned around to look in the direction she’d come from. She noticed the light of a fire not too far away, noting the location of camp and considering how she might go about heading back for her other clothes.
Obviously she could just get dressed again and head back, but she’d have to take everything with her to make sure she wouldn’t forget where it was. She looked down at the panties in her hand, then back at the fire, then to her hand again. With a quiet growl she balled up her underwear and stuffed them into one of her shoes. She just wanted to take a nice bath right now, her clothes could be washed later. So everything found its way into a pile, with her shoes on top to weigh them down – and a rock dropped into one for good measure – and Azhani herself stretched and looked over at the river.
This close to Lake Honrich, the river looked calm enough to fit Azhani’s needs, but since she knew better than to trust her eyes with things like this, she grabbed her soap and washcloth and cautiously padded forward, wading far enough into the river to submerge her feet just above her toes. From there she took little steps to make sure she wasn’t going to end up somewhere too deep or with too swift a current, pausing first when the water reached her ankles and again when it reached her knees.
Here, satisfied with the river’s behavior, she bent down to get herself as wet as possible, then stood back up and set about getting soap wherever she could. No matter what, she couldn’t go back to camp smelling like a tramp. A respectable Khajiit in her position, after all, would be sure to keep clean and suppress the natural odors of their condition as much as possible. The thought briefly occurred to her that this ironically only meant that people back home would use the smell of perfume to determine when certain forms of Khajiit were in season – Suthay and Tojay would practically bathe in the stuff whenever their time came around, while Alfiq and Senche seemed to be more reasonable, but still ended up smelling like gardens.
If only Azhani could have been born a Cathay-raht like her sister. Sure, the problem would be more frequent, but surely it couldn’t be as bad if it happens every month as opposed to every six. ‘At the very least,’ she thought, ‘I wouldn’t have to go around with a scent that screams “FUCK ME NOW” at every male in a hundred miles. I think that would be worth it.’ She started scrubbing harder, intent on getting the sexual stench out of her fur.
For a few minutes she carried on quietly, mumbling as if to hold a conversation with herself about whatever was on her mind. That is, until a sound from the near shore made her spin around and crouch in the hopes of being as inconspicuous as possible while still identifying the source of the disturbance. In the dying sunlight she could make out a large, familiar human form that didn’t seem to have noticed her yet. Azhani sighed and straightened up.
“Dragonborn,” she called out, prompting him to curiously turn his head in her direction then quickly turn away again with a hand raised to block his view of her.
“Woah, okay, that’s… Alright then.” Bjorn took a few cautious steps towards the river, still not looking at the Khajiit standing in it. “Uh, hi. I was actually just wondering where you’d got to, y’know, to… make sure you haven’t got into trouble or anything.”
“No, I’m fine.” Azhani put a hand on her hip and used the other to wave in the Dragonborn’s general direction. “And what is this you’re doing? Where I come from it’s considered rude to talk sideways like this.”
“Well, I mean, you’re kinda…”
Azhani shrugged. “So, what? You think I’ve got anything you haven’t seen before?”
“Yeah, no, I’d just rather not…” The Dragonborn paused briefly, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I just needed to make sure you were safe, you are, so I’m gonna head back to camp. There’s gonna be food for you when you… When you’re done here.”
He turned and started to walk away, but then Azhani spoke up and he stopped. “Ah, actually…”
“Yeah?”
“Can you bring me a change of clothes so I can wash these and not have to head back to camp naked?” It still felt weird to have enough different clothes that she could make that request.
“Sure, I’ll go find something for you.”
“Thanks.”
Then he headed off back to camp and she went back to cleaning herself, bending over to dip her head underwater and get her hair wet. She ran soap-covered hands through her hair with her claws out to catch all the aggravating knots and hopefully smooth everything out. More than a few clumps of unruly black hair ended up floating away downstream.
Several minutes later, by which point Azhani was sure she’d just about tamed her hair (for now), a voice behind her got her attention, though she didn’t turn to look at its source.
“Hey, I’ve got clothes here for you.”
Azhani gave her hair one last quick comb through with her claws. “Great, leave it with the rest, yes?” Then she bent over to submerge her head again, giving her head a thorough shake when she straightened up again. She lifted up her arms to confirm that she smelled more of soap than of pheromones, and evidently satisfied turned around and headed back to shore.
The Dragonborn was on his knees, rearranging her little clothing pile so that everything was neatly folded and the new clothes he’d brought were on top of the old. He instinctively looked up at the sound of Azhani’s approach and immediately turned his gaze back to the clothes, which he continued to stare at, pretending to adjust them. “Well, here you go.”
“Yes. Are you done pawing at them?” She gave each of her legs and arms a quick shake to hopefully get rid of some of the excess water that was falling to the ground, then her whole body involuntarily shivered. “It’s cold and I’m wet.” Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to stand next to the pile, opposite Bjorn, and dropped into a squat. She said nothing while she snatched her old clothes from the bottom of the pile, watching the Dragonborn look up at her and quickly look away again.
“You think you could let me know before you do that?”
Azhani stood and shrugged while giving the tip of her tail a little flick. “What? I’m just picking up my clothes,” she said, fishing for the underwear she’d stuffed into her shoe.
“You didn’t need to… y’know, do it that way.”
“Maybe I just think it’s funny to see you so uncomfortable.”
“Oh, yeah, very funny.” Bjorn had stood and turned to face towards camp while Azhani found herself a little place to sit and get her clothes wet. “And it’s not about me being uncomfortable. I’m just trying to show you a little respect, since you’re all, y’know, exposed.”
The little wet Khajiit looked over her shoulder while she gave her clothes a good scrub. “Respect? It be more respectful to look me in the eye when you’re talking to me, no? Yeah, I’m not wearing anything right now, but my body isn’t anything special, nothing to keep secret. It’s just a body. We all had mothers, we’ve all seen breasts, yes?” She turned her head back to look down at her work. “And since you’re officially married you already can guess how everything I have works. I’ve been told that I am very much like mer in that way, so I can’t exactly hide anything you haven’t seen before.”
“That’s… fair enough, I suppose. But I just do not want to get into… I am married, so I don’t need to look at anyone else, and I’m just not going to.”
“You sure it’s not just because you don’t think you can resist getting off on the sight of naked women that aren’t Lydia?”
“Uh, no offense, but even if that were the case, it’s not a problem here. I just, y’know, I’m sure you’re very attractive by Khajiiti standards and all, but for me I’m just not into anything you’ve got. Like, I don’t want to be rude or anything but it’s really hard to be attracted to someone who looks so much like a cat, it’s just weird.”
“Yeah, no problem. I understand. I do think you’re wrong though,” Azhani responded, turning around again and pointing at the Dragonborn’s back with one hand. “You might not be interested in my body but both of us know very much that there is something of mine that you like.”
Bjorn gave a nervous chuckle in response. “Yeah, I suppose so. But, uh, unless there’s something else you need, I’m gonna go leave now.”
“Mhm.”
By the time Azhani got back to camp, the sky was lit only by the rising moons and the first few stars of the night. She’d done her best to dry off both herself and the clothes she’d washed, but even so her walk back was with damp fur and a dripping ball of laundry in one hand. Her hair especially didn’t seem keen on drying off just yet, so she left it loose and just sat down and huddled close to the fire.
There was meat hanging over the fire, so Azhani grabbed a piece and immediately tore into it, not saying anything or paying any attention to the conversation the two humans were having. Despite the salt and charred exterior, it was fairly good food. Not anywhere near as good as if it had been seasoned properly, with moon sugar, of course, but it’s not like Azhani was going to complain after eating essentially nothing since morning. Pretty soon she’d have all the sugar she needed, anyways, if she ever wanted her food to taste like real home cooking.
Of course, if she ever tried to cook something herself she’d probably just burn it, so she figured it was probably better to just leave that to people who knew what they were doing – and while foreign cooking wasn’t exactly to her taste, she had to admit that objectively the Dragonborn knew what he was doing.
She’d ripped all the meat off the bone quickly enough, and then sat around chewing on the bone itself. And when she located the skin of wine that had been left out, she filled a little cup with it and spent her time by the fire alternating between having the bone in her mouth and drinking in tiny sips. She noticed that the humans would occasionally give her weird looks for not just throwing the bone away as they would have, but she wasn’t paying them too much attention. Not like it was her fault that marrow tasted good, anyways.
No, she was just enjoying herself, curled up by the fire as much as she could possibly be, sitting as close to it as she could without being burned. Every so often she’d bite a little too hard and have to spit out a piece of bone, but otherwise she didn’t have to pay attention to anything and could just relax for once. After a little while she finally set what was left of her bone down and repositioned herself so she was lying on the ground, and she was purring softly while her eyes grew heavy and eventually closed. |
Hi!
Gonna try my writing with this story, i would like a feedback once in a while! Thanks! Now, without further ado...
Episode 1 - The Newest Member is a Fiery Journalist!
On a clear night in the city, the silence is interrupted by what seems to be a fight, on a closer look it seems to be a 1 vs 4 fight however the lone girl seems to have the upper hand while the other four girls are struggling, things doesn´t look very good for these colourful girls. The Black attired girl stood and stroked her chin while taunting her rivals "Heh, i got to say, it is very brave of you to keep pestering us after Our Queen humilliated you and on top of that taking away all the dignity you had left" The tallest of the girls, wearing a silver Uniform steps up pointing her weapon at her rival defying her taunts "Because we still have hope, and that´s why we keep coming back, as long as we´re here, you..." suddendly her knees touched each other, her body was shaking and in a blink the Silver attired Girl fell onto her knees using her halberd as the only support she could cling into, "Hnng... N-no, not... Not now!". The Rival, delighted at the heroine´s issue turned her back and started walking. The remaining girls, concerned rushed to aid her friend only to be reprimanded by her "W-what are you doing?! Chase her! D-don´t let her..." The Silver girl went muted with a light blush on her face and and blank expression, her halberd was dissolving into nothing just as her uniform was reverting to casual street clothes with a "poofy" shape on her denims, the Rival upon hearing the heroine going mute she, just smiled without looking back then she adressed at the girls "And remember, as long as my Queen is on charge... You will never regain control of yourselves!" A Dark portal opens up and the Black attired girl went inside as she laughed at the heroine´s misfortune, the remaining girls tried to follow but then the portal vanished in a blink. " bèn dàn!!!* (Translation: "Stupid Egg!"), she escaped again!" the Girl in Light Green complained while her uniform reverted back into her civilian clothes (A sports jersey with cargo pants and sneakers), "Watch your language in front of me!" The girl with the Purple uniform replied as she followed suit and reverted to street gear ( denim jacket with a purple undershirt, a short white ruffled skirt and purple heels) only to keep bantering on her team mate "Meifeng, you have no right to complain, i had everything under control!" Meifeng fired back "Under control? We got into this mess because of you! When will you learn that not everything is about you Elysia?" Elysia kept replying Mefeng with intensity "Uhmm do i remind you that I am a veryimportant person? I have diplomatic immunity as Ambassador of my Country on YOUR city?!" Meifeng heated up replied sarcastically "Well excuse me, Princess! Because of your Royal intermission we ended up humilliated... AGAIN!" then Meifeng started to swear in Chinese at Elysia which made Elysia to be offended "I did not understood anything of what you just said but if you keep saying it i.. i... i will declare you Persona Non Grata on The Majesterian Ambassy!" after this Adaleiz managed to get back up helped by the girl in Brown also back into her respective street clothes, "Alright you two! Knock it off! I hate to say it but she might be right, they took almost everything from us, now she took our hopes with her" The other two girls had a defeated, yet concerned expression on their faces and replied at unison "Adaleiz!" Adaleiz just replied on a very downer tone "It´s just get harder and harder specially after they forced us into wearing these to make use of what was left of our original powers" Adaleiz unbuttoned her denims revealing the waistband of a diaper, the other girls just looked to other sides out of embarrassment, the brown jacket clad girl who tried to remind her team mates their main motivation "Hey, we must keep our hopes, we´re still complete, safe and sound and we made it this far, diapers or not we made a promise to protect those who we love and..." Elysia cut the girl off before she could finish "Speak by yourself Tess!". Adaleiz sighed and somberly ordered "Alright, there´s nothing left to do here, let´s get back home, i need a break!"
Later that night during her sleep, Adaleiz had a dream about her team defeating the Black attired girl and her leader, The Queen however Adaleiz noted another girl dressed in a uniform just like her team only Red/Yellow colored with the wind blowing her short skirt exposing the back of the girl´s diaper, the Mysterious Red Heroine turned her look at Adaleiz, her face was shadowed with only the mouth visible and giving a warm, friendly and heroic smile at Adaleiz, the girl faintly said "Find me! I'm closer than you think!" Adaleiz tried to reach the girl, only for this to fade, "Wait! Come back! We need you!" Adaleiz tried in vain to chase the Girl and in a blink she woke up, still at night and wearing her sleeping gear, Adaleiz prepared some Tea for herself and sat on the terrace of the Majesterian Ambassy, looking at the stars and questioning herself "If you´re closer than we think, then where are you right now?" as she said this a "Shooting Star" passed by which caught Adaleiz attention... "Huh?! Shooting Stars doesn´t happen that way! Could it be? ... Ah, I just might need some rest! It was a long day for all of us..." as Adaleiz was heading back to her room the "Shooting Star" kept it´s course disintegrating itself into a smaller and smaller rock ending up embedded on a fountain of a plaza on the City´s news compund...
The Next day on a Apartment Building located just a few blocks away from the Majesterian Ambassy, a 24 year old Young Woman was sleeping on her bed, then the door of her Bedroom was being knocked and a voice from outside the room called up "Fiametta! Wake up! Breakfast's ready! Wash your mouth and come to eat!". Fiametta, still on her bed just mumbled "Mhmh... Mom i don´t wanna go to school today!" Fiametta covered her head with her pillow, Fiametta´s Mom quickly entered the bedroom and took clean socks from the socks drawer and placed it on Fiametta´s feet, then she replied "That´s so cute darling, and don´t worry, you´ve been out of School for more than 6 years, not to mention you graduated as a Journalist just last year!" Fiametta´s Mom took the pillow out of Fiametta´s head and told her "And today is Job Hunting Day darling! Come on, wash your mouth and come to eat with me!" She then kisses Fiametta´s forehead and quickly said before leaving "Love you!" then she heads to the Kitchen while Fiametta still on the bed, managed to smile and hug her pillow to make her react still sleepy, "Love you too Mom!".
After a trip to the bathroom, using the toilet, washing her hands and then her mouth, Fiametta gets to the kitchen on her sleeping clothes (a black rock band shirt and red striped panties) which made her Mom sigh and comment, "Fiametta, how many times i told you to wear pants or a longer shirt?" Fiametta replied "Mom, i'm 23, i'm old enough to wear what i want!" after that Fiametta started eating her breakfast, and her Mom to calmly reply "As long as you’re living under my roof young lady, you´re going to follow my rules! Find a Job, then find your own roof and then i´ll respect your rules! Simple as that" Fiametta swallowed her bite and replied childishly "No fair!", Fiametta´s Mom replied with just a giggle and 30 minutes later... "Dear Lord i'm going to be late for my Shift at the Hospital! Fiametta, i'm leaving, Lunch and Dinner is on the Fridge, i might get back home very late, please text me when you´re moving or back home!", Fiametta Replied "Yes Mom!", Fiametta´s Mom also told her "And no matter what happens today, if you don´t succeed at first, there´s always a Tomorrow" She then hugged Fiametta and encouraged her "You´ll find a Job right away Sweetheart! Love you!" Fiametta reciprocates the hug and replies "Love you Too Mom!" And with that Fiametta´s Mom headed to her workplace leaving Fiametta getting ready for her day, with her street clothes on Fiametta went out of her Mom´s Apartment with hopes of getting employed right away, "Alright world, ready or not, here i come!" Fiametta said energetically while taking her Mom´s car to move. "Good thing that The Hospital is just walking down the street!" Fiametta mumbled to herself as she was igniting the engine.
Back on the Majesterian Ambassy, in the Private Dining Room, The Girls were having breakfast, and Adaleiz was deep on her thoughts, as she couldn´t stop analyzing and trying to find a meaning to her dream! "Closer than we think!", just on that moment Tess took Adaleiz back to reality, "Earth to Adaleiz! Earth to Adaleiz! Breakfast´s ready!", Adaleiz just gasped while getting back to her senses "Breakfast, y-yeah!". Tess worried asked Adaleiz "You still affected by last night?", Adaleiz replied "No, i... I was venting out some heat on that moment, i'm fine!", Meifeng was eating her breakfast on a rude manner with Elysia looking with disgust "Ugh! Are you a caveman or something?! Watch your Manners! Especially here on a Dining Table!", Meifeng swallowed and then started to talk in chinese at Elysia with Tess cutting her out on a Motherly manner, "Mei, Elysia´s right! Weird, but very Right, We´re on a Embassy after all, we must pay some respect!" which made Elysia reply "Finally, someone with a bit of Common Sense! I commend you Tess!" with Meifeng interrupting her "Then why don´t you tell Princess Loudmouth here to stop sneaking into my room and take my towels?!" Elysia offended replied the accusation "That is a false accusation! Me? Do you have evidence?!" as the trio started to discuss, Adaleiz finished up her breakfast, and told the girls "I'm going out for a walk, Tess tell Meifeng and Elysia to knock it off or else they´ll be late for School i´ll be back later and i´ll call if that Bitch pops up again!", Tess with a nervous face at the incoming brawl between Meifeng and Elysia replied "W-wait what?! Adaleiz... Wait! I can´t control them alone!" Tess turned her face back to Meifeng and Elysia and worried she said "Help!"
In a blink, the day has passed quickly as it is Noon, Fiametta so far ended up very unluck and decides to take a quick snack on a Fountain located at the Plaza on the News Compound, almost defeated Fiametta only managed to sigh and then she mumbled to herself "I give up, i can´t find anything in this city!" as Fiametta ended up her snack she stood up to get back to the car and getting back home when a Dark Portal opened up with the Black Attired Girl appearing prompting Fiametta to look in disbelief "What the heck was that?!" as the Mysterious Girl was descending with a simple move of her staff she pulled Fiametta our of her way "Get off you insignificant worm! I came here to pick up something for my Queen!", Fiametta landing on some plastic Tables had very little time to understand the situation. The girl was just a few steps to the Fountain however in that moment someone popped out from the Lobby "Anastasia, Really? Are you looking for some change like a Hobo?" it was Adaleiz on her uniform, Anastasia quickly replied while turning to Adaleiz "I do not understood any word from that lesser mouth of yours! If you appreciate your life and the lives around you then back off!" Adaleiz defiantly summoned her Halberd and due to the amount of Sun light Adaleiz´ Halberd had a very bright color with extra energy, with this boost, Adaleiz quickly stated "You will succeed under my wet Diaper!", Anastasia had a good grip on her staff and rushed to attack Adaleiz starting a fight that left collateral damages on the area, Fiametta still confused Tried to look up for the safest exit possible only to trip and fall into the fountain, entering in contact with the little stone and out of the sudden the heat was increasing, the water of the fountain started to boil and evaporate and a Bright Red energy started to cover Fiametta´s body, "W-what´s going on?! What´s happening to me?!" Fiametta asked in a nervous way. The light caught Anastasia´s attention and then her face changed from taunting to shock upon seeing the stone being activated "No! The Stone! NO! Tha is not yours!", Adaleiz also watched in shock as the red light covered completely Fiametta´s body.
In a flash Fiametta emerged from the light Wearing a Bright Red Uniform with Yellow accents and a bright Yellow short skirt with a visible diaper, prompting Adaleiz to mumble "The girl... The girl from my Dream... She´s... She´s Real!"
Realizing the transformation she underwent Fiametta only asked herself "Why in the World am I wearing this?!", Anastasia, enraged rushed heading to Fiametta´s spot shouting at her "You will get what you deserve for taking what it is not yours!". Adaleiz then came back to her senses to warn Fiametta of Anastasia´s incoming attack "HEY YOU! MOVE OUT OF HER WAY!" followed by a short rush hoping Adaleiz reaches Anastasia before Fiametta gets hurt. Fiametta confused again screamed "WHAT´S GOING ON HERE?!"
To be Continued... |
Episode 2 – And then She Realized she was Diapered
As Anastasia rushed to attack Fiametta who was just transformed into a Warrior Girl just like Adaleiz, Tess, Meifeng and Elysia quickly arrived on the scene, Adaleiz was chasing Anastasia before she could get her Staff reaching Fiametta, “You´re not going anywhere!” as Adaleiz used her Halberd to catch a piece of Anastasia´s clothing Fiametta started to run away from battle. “This is not happening! This is Not Happening! This is Not Happening!” Fiametta repeated to herself on that moment she crashed with Tess, Meifeng and Elysia. In a angered tone Elysia complained to Fiametta “Hey! You better watch out your own way!”, still confused, Fiametta asked the Girls “Who´s that girl trying to attack me?, Who are you? What the Hell is going on and Why in the world am i wearing a Diaper?!”, The trio were very surprised at Fiametta being in a similar attire to them, Tess then made a short explanation to Fiametta, “Look, there will be time for explanations, for now you must remain with us and if you need to go, then go, but that will cancel your transformation until you get a fresh one!” Fiametta kept asking the indirect questions for Tess “If i need to go? A Fresh one?” then she looked at her diaper and tried to peel the tabs off unsucessfully “Now it makes sense”, While the four girls kept moving, the fight between Anastasia and Adaleiz raged on, Anastasia, now without the stone she was looking for, made a burst attack of Dark energy blasts from her Staff´s tip, Adaleiz blocked the majority hawever the blasts kept coming fortunately Meifeng jumped in and summoned her twin fans to create a small but strong wind attack returning the bursts back to Anastasia, however she blocked herself before the blasts could touch her, offended Anastasia opted to escape and while opening the portal she taunted Adaleiz and her team “You may had luck this time... And that time ends right now!” with a slam of her staff the destroyed ornametal statues mutated into monsters “Take them out! If their stones survive, please hand them over to me!” with those words Anastasia parted on a Dark Portal leaving the girls alone with the monsters, Adaleiz regroupped with her teammates and Fiametta to start leading them in battle. “Mei, Elysia on the front, New Girl Crash course! Use your head and Think of a Weapon of choice!, Tess! With the New Girl! MOVE!” Meifeng, Elysia and Tess in unison replied “Yes!” then Tess took Fiametta´s hand “Come with me!” Fiametta was really having a hard time processing the happenings on top of that she could only think on a Knife she saw leading to the creation of her weapon “A sword?!” Tess upon watching Fiametta´s weapon delightfully commented “Your sword looks perfect! Now we can join the battle!” in a flash Tess summoned her weapon, a Big Mace. Tess then looked at Fiametta and told her “Now we´re gonna show these creeps to not mess around with the Damsel Knights!” Fiametta with akwardness replied “Damsel Knights?”, As the duo was getting ready 3 monsters were already jumping in to attack with Tess recieving them with blows of her Mace, Meifeng did more gusts of wind with her fans, Elysia summoned her spear impaling and electrocuting the monsters attacking her with a prompted comment from her “How dare you to attack the Royalty of Majesteria?! How Rude!” Fiametta was impressed with theses girls, pulling a fight with amazing acrobatic moves and all of them wearing diapers, Her impression was only interrupted by Adaleiz with another command “HEY! Cover your Eyes NOW!” all of the girls followed suit and Adaleiz charged her Halberd with enough sunlight to unleash a very bright and blinding flare upon contact with the floor, the light was bright enough to disintegrate the remaining monsters made of dark energy, the girls remained as the only ones on location . With the shock of the battle Fiametta ended up speechless, Adaleiz placed her hand on Fiametta´s shoulder to calm her down “You may have a lot of questions right now, we can adress them, you have to come with us!” However a surviving, yet, critically damaged monster rushed for a desperate attack to Adaleiz, Fiametta firmly held her sword and shouted at Adaleiz “DODGE!” with Adaleiz surprised while moving Fiametta made a Fire Slash to cut the monster in half destroying it in a fire, Fiametta then fell onto her knees blushing as her uniform was getting back to normal with an added “detail”, a puff on her jeans. Tess jokingly commented while helping Fiametta getting back up “I know what that face means! Come with us, we have something for you to change”, Fiametta blushing red managed to reply "Ch-change?" Fiametta noticed that her clothes changed back to the attire she was wearing before the attack then realized "Wait! My, my Mom´s car! I can´t leave it here!". The other girls were reverting back to normal clothes with Elysia commenting "This is the problem with these Locals! They´re all Stubborn! I´ll make one of my Diplomatic Employees to pick up your car!", Tess was eager to shoot Elysia down "Elysia! Watch your mouth please!" to which Elysia fired back "Diplomatic Immunity!" a frustrated Tess groans as she heads to the exit, Meifeng and Elysia followed Leaving Fiametta and Adaleiz behind, Fiametta was having a real hard time trying to understand what just happened then Adaleiz took Fiametta´s hand and looked at her face "Look, your world has changed beyond your expectations, just let us explain, and be warned, the Stone Bonded with you, there´s no way aside from Death to sever that bond!". The girls entered up on a Black SUV with Majesterian Flags on the front indicating the Diplomatic usage of this, Fiametta was surprised that there wasn´t a Royal Driver, Tess took the Driver´s seat which made Meifeng buckle her seat belt quickly and commenting "Tess, remember, we´re not on a Rally course!" Tess replied "Mei, don´t you like my short cuts?" while Meifeng and Tess were bickering, Fiametta was still deep on her thoughts, "Ok, these girls are weird, im not into cosplays anymore but battling creeps?! On top of that why that girl in silver looked at me that way?! Am i some sort of Chosen one? Do i have a disturbing creature on my tongue? UGH! Mom´s gonna be worried if i don´t call her back!", Adaleiz just closed her eyes and also went deep on her thoughts "We were lucky that the Red Stone appeared, i knew Shooting stars didn´t worked that way, now we have to train this new girl... I have a feeling that she might turn the tide on our favor"
30 minutes later the Girls are Greeted by the diplomatic staff of the Embassy as they headed Elysia´s bedroom, once there one by one started to take off their lower body gear in front of Fiametta her reaction was full of surprise but she wouldn´t be prepared for what was going to happen next... "D-D-Diapers?! All of you wearing diapers?" Fiametta questioned, Tess quickly smiled nervously replying "It's a long story!" as Tess was about to explain, Adaleiz interrupted "I´ll tell her Tess, Long time ago there was a huge Battle for the Control of the Elemental Stones, the Stones were protected by different knights in many worlds, however in the last world before Earth, similar to ours in many aspects, the Queen singlehandledly defeated the previous knights one by one collecting their stones, on the final battle, the final Damsel Knight had a chance and sacrificed herself to send the stones to our world choosing new Damsels to protect them, picking up us to protect them, on our first encounter with the Queen, we proved to be very effective however we didn´t counted the Queen would come heavily assisted after losing her streak, she recruited the Princess of the Tricksters who not only fooled us into a trap but also took some of our improved powers leaving us still capable of fight yet our powers were very diminished to add more to the humilation she cursed the stones adding a "Childish" element by losing some of our bladder control and connecting it to how our powers work, if we wet ourselves in battle our Knight Mode is disabled", as Adaleiz finished the story Fiametta pulled down her jeans noticing that the Diaper she got upon her transformation remained yet it was poorly covered with her red striped panties on top of that Fiametta´s diaper had a light shade of yellow on the crotch area, "No way! It can´t be!" then Meifeng commented with a smirk "Welcome to the Crew!" Fiametta, offended requested "Where´s the nearest bathroom?" Elysia told her where it was with a warning "Don´t try to go without a diaper!" then she embarrassingly blushed "I tried and i failed..." Meifeng just giggled on Elysia´s misfortune only to be reprimanded by Tess, Fiametta worried told the girls "Look, i can´t go back home with a diaper! My Mom would go nuts! How do i explain this to her without calling a therapist?!" Adaleiz then brings up a package "Lucky for you that at least while not in Knight forms we can use alternatives to Diapers, sadly now that you bonded with your Fire Stone, there´s no other way, Diapers or Diapers, choice is yours", Fiametta had no choice she took the disposable underwear package and headed up to the bathroom so she could change her diaper.
On a pocket dimension Anastasia returned however not as victorious as she commonly returns, "This is inacceptable! Those pesky Damsel Babies are a complete nuisance to the plans! I hope my Queen doesn´t find out that..." On that Anastasia was interrupted by a contact from her mirror... A bluish flame with Red Piercing eyes talked to her "Find out that the Knights now have a New Member among them?! If it is that... Do not Bother... I already know!", Anastasia in shock tried to excuse herself "M-my Queen! What a... Pleasant surprise!" The Queen then started to reprimand Anastasia for her incomptence "Anastasia, I am beggining to lose faith on you!" Anastasia quickly defended herself "My Queen, I have been very dilligent with you! I do as much as possible to take those Knights out of our path!" The Queen replied "Let me remind you Anastasia that your mission was to retrieve the stones and dispose of anyone, yet you managed to find the stones and letting a pesky girl to bond with it... That IS unacceptable!" Anastasia, nervous made one last plea "But, My Queen! Next time i will bring all of the stones for you!" The Queen made her veredict "I expect so! However due to your record of Incompetence you leave me no choice than summoning "Extra Help" to achieve our Goal" in a flash the Queen cut off the call and two more Young Ladies emerged from the Dark portals, one of the Young Ladies cheerfully hugged Anastasia much to her annoyance leaving only to think " They are completely wrong If they think i will spare them once i get the Stones to Dethrone the Queen"
Back on the Embassy, Fiametta went out of the bathroom now wearing a pair of the disposable underwear, she put her panties on her purse and the rest of the Disposable Underwear pack next to it, her face was a bit stressed about her new situation however Adaleiz came in with Fiametta´s jeans "looking for something?" Adaleiz handed over the Jeans back to Fiametta which she fitted right away, "Thanks! Ah... I think i might not get usted to this!" Fiametta expressed her doubts to which Adaleiz commented "It´s normal, at least it´s something resembling actual underwear keeping your dignity somewhat intact, I'm Adaleiz, Adaleiz Solberg by the way, with all this crazy stuff happening we forgot about introductions!" (Adaleiz Solberg – 20 Yrs Old/ Engineering Undergrad) Fiametta looked at Adaleiz "I-I'm Fiametta! Nice to meet you!" Adaleiz place her hand on Fiametta´s shoulder again and replied" Fiametta, quite fitting for the Fire Stone! Come! The other girls wants to introduce themselves! You´re now on the "Trust Circle!" Fiametta giggled as the walked in the living section of Elysia´s Room, Adaleiz kept touring Fiametta "As you noticed this is the Majesterian Ambassy, that´s because Elysia is the Princess of the Kingdom of Majesteria and she´s both an Exchange student and Ambassador to her country here" Elysia made a small arrogant giggle and replied "Please Stop! You are making me Blush with those compliments!" (Elysia Toov – 17 Yrs Old/ Exchange Student/ Princess of the Kingdom of Majesteria) Adaleiz then shifted towards Tess "This is our "Team Mom" and the Muscle of the team, Tess" Tess stood up "Tess Colton! At your service!" (Tess Colton – 19 yrs Old/ Management Student) Tess added "It's always good to have more hands on our small Ranch!", finally Adaleiz shited towards Meifeng who was playing videogames, Tess reprimanded Meifeng "Mei! Don´t be rude! Introduce yourself with our new teammate!" Meifeng annoyed paused her game and stood up "Ok, Ok, Nǐ hǎo! My name is Yang Meifeng! It is a pleasure to meet you!” ( 杨美峰 – Yang Meifeng – 17 yrs Old/ Student/ Delivery Girl), Tess then added “See? That´s better!” then she whispers to Fiametta “She´s completely tomboyish most of the times, hence why she´s rude” Meifeng didn´t bothered Tess whispering and sit back to resume her game. Adaleiz kept talking to Fiametta “See? Despite we´re on a very delicate situation with being bound to wear diapers, we keep mostly a normal life outside battle... So, are you introducing yourself to the rest of the class?” Fiametta now calmed down made a warm smile and introduced herself “Nice to meet you all! I'm Fiametta Gabrielli It'll be a Honor... Fighting alongside you? Yeah, i might need time to get used to this” (Fiametta Gabrielli – 23 Yrs Old/ Journalist). With Introductions made Fiametta quickly remembered she had to call her mother “She´s gonna kill me if i don´t call her, it´s been hours! I´ll be back!” with that said Fiametta quickly rushed back to the bathroom to have some privacy while talking to her Mother, Adaleiz just looked with a stern look and whispered “Fiametta you are our last hope!”...
In the Bathroom after calling her Mother, Fiametta Pulled down her jeans again to have another look to her new underwear ... then she thought “I'm really gonna take some time to get used to this... Oddly enough... This really seems so familiar to me...”
To Be Continued... |
Thank you for your Support! Here´s Episode 3!
Episode 3 – We were Rookies at some point
In the Pocket Dimension, Anastasia was cutting off the hug of the just arrived girls much to the Girl´s dismay "-hmph!- Aiko how many times i have to tell you? I am NOT a Hug person!" Anastasia was very clear on her words to which Aiko replied "But you are my favourite person in the whole universe!" (Aiko – Age Unknown/ Trickster Princess) Anastasia was very curious about Aiko´s current form "Are you on a Crisis? Why would you look Younger?" to which Aiko replied "Big surprises comes in small packages!" Anastasia surprised asked Aiko "What do you mean with that?" Aiko then started to tell her story "I have been very busy creating a lot of mayhem ranging from innocent tricks to full blown chaos" Anastasia disturbed, looked at Aiko´s youthful and seemingly innocent face while sensing an aura of Suffering, Calamities and Death surrounding her, Aiko broke the ice again by hugging Anastasia... Again "And now i'm working again with my favourite person EVER!" Anastasia´s annoyance grew a bit then the other young Lady took off her cloak revealing a very athletic and muscular, yet feminine shape "Too much love, Ugh, Where is a War when you need it the most?", Anastasia still hugged by Aiko simply replied "Nice to see you again Amaya..." Amaya quickly commented on Anastasia´s servants "Is this your Army? Pathetic!" (Amaya – Age Unknown/ War Lady) Amaya summoned her Hammer to blunt several of Anastasia´s servants creating unnecessary chaos then she gloated "Now THIS is how things should be! By the look of it, you do not know how things are done!", Anastasia summoned her staff and pointed it out to Amaya "How dare you to come into my terrains and disrespect it?" Anastasia asked with rage to which Amaya just shrugged off replying "I did not came here on my will, it was Our Queen´s will that brought me here! And if i remember correctly i came here to put you back on the right path as your recent failures got Our Queen´s Attention and she does not Like to be left as a complete Failure! You understood this?" Anastasia frustrated replied "I.. I understood... Sire!" A smile then appeared on Amaya´s face as ste petted Anastasia´s head "Good girl!" Anastasia then commanded her servants to lead the Girls to their dorms Aiko let go Anastasia and both girls followed the servants, Anastasia was frustrated thinking "I cannot believe i was just humilliated I am The Next in the Sucession Line to the Dark Crown, I cannot let anyone including that orc of a War Lady to treat me like an infant!"
In the Majesterian Embassy, Fiametta finished talking with her Mother over the phone and took off her jeans again to have another look at her new underwear, Fiametta is still uneasy with the idea of her being empowered with amazing powers at the cost of her bladder control, her head was like a revolving door on how she would explain this situation to her Mother, then there were three knocks to the door from Adaleiz "Fiametta? Is everything ok?" Fiametta all nervous rushed to pull back up her jeans, the stress of being cut down short on something private plus her new situation and a Latte while Job Hunting took a toll on the now weakened bladder of the nervous Fiametta, on top of that Fiametta forgot to lock the door knob and without any answer form inside Adaleiz had no choice "Fiametta, is everything ok? I'm coming in!" Fiametta managed to pull back up her jeans however by the moment Adaleiz entered the Bathroom Fiametta couldn't zip up and button up her jeans on time, now with a embarrassed expression on her face Fiametta realized that there was a warm feeling on her crotch, Adaleiz just looked at Fiametta and gave a cute smile then she commented "I´ve seen expressions like the one you´re showing!" Fiametta zipped and before she could button up, Adaleiz took another pair of the disposable underwear and asked Fiametta if she could pull down her pants again, Fiametta nodded with her face still blushing and then Adaleiz noted the yellow spot then suggested "Fiametta you´ll have to watch out for any drinks you take from now on!" Fiametta was only thinking "This is embarrassing! I... Did i just.. peed myself out of shame?!" Adaleiz was removing Fiametta´s wet panty to dispose of it then, as she was cleaning Fiametta´s privates she tried to comfort Fiametta "Look, don´t think you´re the first one to get this, we got this as well when we were inducted into being Damsel Knights, just like you we were rookies at some point!" Fiametta now changed her face from embarrassment to curiosity and then asked "Then what´s your story, how did you get involved into this?" Adaleiz handed over the fresh disposable panties to Fiametta who then fitted herself right away then still on her panties Fiametta sat down on the floor next to Adaleiz who was just remembering the day she became a Damsel Knight. "It was two years ago on a summer camp..."
Two Years Ago...
"Alright kids, I'm the Leader of the Fireflies Team! You can Call me Counselor Adaleiz!" (Adaleiz Solberg – 18 yrs Old /Engineering Freshman- Summer Camp Counselor) -"I spent that summer working hard as things weren´t easy back then, the kids back then were just funny, they got me into lots of troubles and also got me into heartwarming moments, they were my motivation and we were just fine until the night that my life changed..."- Adaleiz was dropping the water on the campfire to turn it off "Alright kids, lights off! Everyone to the sleeping bags!" -We spent that night outside as there was a possible Meteor Shower that night, but obviously, it didn´t happened... Well, not in the way we were expecting"- Around 3 AM a mysterious goldish rock was entering the atmosphere and it was disintegrating into a smaller rock and embedded into a rock on the ground near the campfire ashes then a Dark Portal opened with Anastasia emerging. -"That was my first encounter with Anastasia, a powerful Dark Sorceress, Heir of the Queen´s Crown, A.K.A. The girl from the plaza!" Fiametta limited to say "That girl?"- "Anastasia sensed the Stone of Light and started to attack right away, that made everyone to wake up and chaos ensued, my fellow Counselors helped me to take the kids to safety however Anastasia held me captive for interrogations, I managed to get out of her grip... I tripped and then... The Stone was reacting, it was calling me, Anastasia desperate to claim it rushed her attacks on me, however i could manage to evade them to seize the stone, As I transformed into a Knight the raw power of the fiery transformation was more than enough to not only cause Anastasia to retreat but also make daylight even if it was still night"- "Wh-what just..." Adaleiz was in a complete shock upon watching her Knight Uniform and materialized her weapon as a proof of a complete bond with the stone...
Present Day
"I spent then next months sensing the remaining Stones each of them leading me to the other girls, since then we spent moments toghether despite the issues within us... And we also got moments where we screwed up everything with our lack of experience. It´s part of the Learning Curve..." As Adaleiz finished her story Fiametta remained very thoughtful, Adaleiz extended her hand to help Fiametta to stand up, Fiametta then commented "I still can´t believe i went out for job hunting and i ended up finding you all instead!" Adaleiz opened up the bathroom´s door "Do you need more "Me Time"?" Fiametta picked up her pants and decided to not fit them back causing Adaleiz to ask "Aren't you wearing your jeans?" Fiametta replied "I... I want to get used to my new underwear in front of you to calm myself, i still have to deal with keeping this secret from my mother" Adaleiz smiled again "You´re overthinking this a lot, everything´s going to be fine!" out of the sudden Tess got there aggitated "Hey! We´ve got a stampede downtown! We have to go!". In Downtown, Amaya was creating mayhem fighting several Police Officers, destroying Police Units and overall collateral damage "Heh! You call youselves "Guards"?! This is just Bad Comedy!" Amaya picked up a Police Van and threw it away in direction of two Officers down, in the nick of time Tess threw her Mace stopping the van, standing and giving the back to the officers, the shockwave of Tess´ Mace stopping the Van made enough wind to blow Tess´ Skirt revealing her diaper, Tess told them "We can control her, please put yourselves to safety!" the officers took the moment to escape safely. Amaya was very surprised "Well, well, what we got here?" as the rest of the Knights arrived Amaya quickly noticed their visible diapers "Oh, i get it, you are the Infamous "Damsel Babies" Yeah, the diapers confirms that!" - Amaya started laughing "Anastasia, are these the Girls that are giving you headaches?! I thought you were pathetic but i did not realized how pathetic you are for getting outsmarted by these Girls!" Tess, offended replied "And you´re just nothing more than a Donkey, you don´t even qualify for Rodeo Clown!", upon hearing that last bit Amaya twitched her eye "What did you just said?!" Adaleiz quickly whispered "Fiametta, stay with me! You´re on training! Elysia, Mei you know what to do!" the three girls moved on to their positions while Tess was firing back at Amaya "We know what i said! And this "Baby" will teach you some manners!". Amaya enraged summoned her Hammer while Tess called her Mace back and both girls clashed their weapons creating a shockwave, as the shockwave ended, Adaleiz, Fiametta, Meifeng and Elysia surrounded Amaya, she just smiled and comented "Five on One? I do not care how many of you are, I am more than enough to take you all down!", Amaya slammed her Hammer on the street creating a small tremor, the Damsel Knights just jumped out to safety only to attack on their landing with Tess leading the charge to stall Amaya, Meifeng used her Twin Fans to create a small whirlwind, Meifeng quickly warned Adaleiz "Adaleiz, Elysia! Your Turn!" as Adaleiz and Elysia used their respective weapons to knock Amaya off balance it left Fiametta with her sword and a chance for her... In the Pocket Dimension Anastasia still annoyed at Amaya´s taunts was actually enjoying in silence Amaya´s humilliation, Aiko noted this and commented "Are you enjoying your plan in execution or the fact that Amaya is getting beaten up by Diapered Girls?" Anastasia limited herself to reply "Shush!". Back on the scene, Fiametta had her chance to attack a wide open Amaya, however Adaleiz noted Fiametta´s intentions and screamed "FIAMETTA! NO! DON´T ATTACK! YOU´RE NOT READY!" however Adaleiz´ warnings fell into deaf ears and Fiametta recklessly used her Fire Slash attack on the seemingly wide open Amaya, Amaya regained the balance, grabbed Elysia´s Spear and Adaleiz´ Halberd and gloated "Do NOT dare to challenge a War Lady!" then Amaya shaked the Spear and the Halberd sending Elysia towards Meifeng crashing and thus cancelling the Whirlwind meanwhile Adaleiz was sent towards Fiametta crashing leaving Tess all alone, Amaya was quick to reach Tess Face to face, their heights are notorious as Tess is the Tallest girl on the Knights yet Amaya is even taller than Tess, Amaya grabbed Tess´ neck and started to choke her, As Tess was struggling to breathe, Amaya taunted Tess again " Now repeat what you just said before! I DARE YOU!", Tess was desperate as she was running out of oxygen, The Other Knight were regrouping however Amaya had an idea, Tess lost consciousness and immediately started wetting herself, while this was happening Amaya shouted "HEY YOU! HERE IS YOUR GARBAGE!" and then Amaya threw the unconscious Tess towards the other Knights crashing, Amaya turned her back and adressed the Damsel Knights "Consider that a Message from our Queen, her Mercy is what let you live today, She will not be as Merciful as she was today!" then Amaya looked to the Sky "And this goes for you as well Anastasia! You are still here because of our Queen and her Mercy... Let me remind you that everything has a limit... Even Mercy has a limit!", In the Pocket Dimension Anastasia was more than enraged with Amaya´s message, Aiko limited herself to enjoy Anastasia´s misfortune.
Amaya left on a Dark Portal and after that The Knights regained consciousness except for Tess who was still knocked out cold, they hardly got back to the Embassy where they took Tess to the medical section. Adaleiz emerged from the room. "Tess is going to be fine, she just need regain some air, in her own words if she gets knocked down from the Bull, she´ll be riding it back, Are you all ok? Meifeng and Elysia just nodded with Elysia complaining "This was just horrible! I can´t be treated like this!" with Meifeng replying "Get over with! We had luck she let us live!" then Elysia fired back "Excuse me?! We had her disgusting face locked on! The New Girl screwed it!" Meifeng then replied "Heh! Typical of the Royals to put the blame on the others!" as Meifeng and Elysia kept bickering Adaleiz wanted to talk with Fiametta in private "Fiametta... We have to talk!", Fiametta was once again uneasy... Moments Later Adaleiz wanted to adress what happened earlier "Fiametta, it´s obvious you are part of the Damsel Knights, and you aren´t properly trained, it was my responsability to have taken you in battle, Also... Were you aware that i gave you an order?" Fiametta only said "I... Uh... Yes, I heard you telling me my orders" Adaleiz told then "It is rude to do something recklessly!, your decision landed us a defeat, we were lucky we didn´t had our Stones forcibly removed as it wasn´t the main goal of that "War Lady", Tess had luck that she only had minor injuries, lack of oxygen and a soaked diaper, it could have been worse!" Fiametta moved her eyes down "I-i'm sorry, i didn´t wanted to put you on danger!" Adaleiz just looked at Fiametta and hugged her "I know you have good intentions, you just need to start training for this! I´m still giving you a penalty for disobeying my commands, but that will be later". Two hours later Tess woke up wearing a thick diaper with a cartoonish navy theme, "Sorry for making you hold your breath for me! That girl really knows how to punch someone out cold!" Tess was being recieved with a big smile and a Hug "It´ll take more than a single stampede to take this cowgirl down!" commented Tess to which Fiametta added "Please Tess forgive me! It wasn´t my intention to put you on a big trouble!", Tess replied "It´s ok Lil´Cacti, Roughness runs wild and free in the Colton family!" Fiametta just blushed and thought "She called me "Lil´", Tess wrapped up saying "I guess that blush means that you´re thinking "Apologies Accepted!" then Tess laughed .
The day passed quickly and Fiametta had to return home. "I´m sorry if it wasn´t the day you expected to be but i´m really glad that you decided to stay with us!" commented Adaleiz, Fiametta replied inside her Mother´s car with her window open, I´ll do my best to train so i can work like you! For now i have to go back home otherwise my Mom will be worried!" on that Elysia appeared "HEY YOU!", Fiametta looked at Elysia very intimidated, Elysia adressed Fiametta "Take this!" Elysia was holding a Press Pass in her hand "I've found by accident a Job application online about you, I wouldn´t mind if i have a Journalist to handle the Ambassy´s Blog!" Fiametta was surprised, after a very confuse and disasterous day she found a Job, Elysia was getting upset "Hey! This offer won' t last long! It´s your call!" Then Fiametta was eager to reply "I-I accept it!" Elysia handed over the pass to Fiametta with a Warning "You better be here before 7 AM! The Ambassy will be your new Workplace!" Adaleiz was just watching with delight and a bit of surprise, Elysia normally wouldn´t react that way then looked at Fiametta again, "Your training will begin shortly after your introduction to your Workplace! For now i can´t let you join another battle until you have the basic training!" Fiametta looked a bit disappointed yet determined, "Right! I´ll do my best to clear the training!" Adaleiz replied "Prove it to me!" then smiled "Good night Fiametta!" and with this Fiametta bid farewell for the night and headed back home where her Mother was just arriving as well... "Hey Mom! Guess what?" Fiametta´s mother with a smile on her face replied "By the look of that smile i think you´ve found yourself a Job! Am i right?" Fiametta replied with a nod while showing her Press Pass "I´ll be working on the Majesterian Embassy to work on their Official Blog, Fiametta´s Mother quickly hugged her, Later on after the defrosted dinner, it was some spare time and finally bed time, "Good night Mom!" Fiametta said before entering her bedroom, Fiametta felt like a complete different person she was in the morning as she was still processing the event of her day, normally she would fall into sleep with no problems, that night Fiametta realized she was wearing a diaper-like panty to sleep, yet she was sure that she would sort it out with her new found friends that are on the same situation as she was, Fiametta´s overthinking cause her to remain awake and use the toilet whenever she needed until near 4:00 AM Fiametta finally calmed down and fell asleep...
To be Continued... |
First of all, thanks for the support, sorry for the delay as personal things (Good things) were happening. This is a bit of Breather episode, Enjoy!
Episode 4 – Any Ordinary Day
Fiametta had a long night, she could hardly have some sleep, her weakened bladder just made the things even more difficult, it was 6:00 in the morning and still groggy she went to her bathroom to brush her teeth, in just a blink she ended up on a seemingly normal trip with her Mother, Fiametta was equally relaxed and confused at the same time, she tried to talk but she couldn´t hear anything, her Mom was talking judging by her moving lips and then she pulled over the car near the sidewalk space, she took her purse and walked to where Fiametta was, Fiametta´s Mom opened the back seat door to let Fiametta step out, then she took her hand to enter what was a Seemingly normal Majesterian Embassy, Fiametta was really suspecting something was off but she couldn´t figure it yet until they reached Elysia´s Room, when Fiametta´s Mom opened up the door there were the other Damsel Knights mixed up with people Fiametta met while she was in College, all of them with Diapers of all kinds exposed and playing joyfully even Elysia and Meifeng who usually aren´t very friendly to each other, there were toys scattered all over the place and a Nursery vibe, Fiametta´s started to aggitate, she looked at her Mother who gave her a creepy smile then two Women appeared from the back, it was Amaya and Anastasia both of them smiling with such evil, things were turning dark and very nightmarish with Fiametta being picked up by a giant nightmarish version of her Mother who told her in a very loud and clear way "I know your secret Fiametta!" Fiametta was in shock questioning herself "H-how did she knew about it?" then Fiametta´s Mother took her and handed over to Anastasia much to Fiametta´s horror, extending her arms to reach her Mother again however in vain, Anastasia was holding Fiametta like a Baby and then she repeated "I know your secret!" and then everybody was repeating the same message in a unison "I know your secret!" Fiametta was so shocked she noticed her Diaper was growing and growing as she was wetting herself out of fear like she did before, out of a scare Fiametta woke up back in her room, 5:59 AM on her Radio/ Clock, Fiametta sighed "That was a creepy dream" Fiametta was quick to realize she wet herself during her nightmare, she was completely shocked out of it, Last time that Fiametta wet herself during her sleep was when she was 9 years old, she grabbed her crotch and tried to hold her tears, she shed some tears to later realize and remember that her Mother would calm her down, however, as Fiametta was heading up her bathroom the big question was haunting Fiametta´s mind "How can i tell Mom i'm wearing diapers again?" she kept asking herself during her shower, fortunately while disposing her diaper-like Panty she had some relief that her Mother at least respects her privacy, yet, she now had to take extra measures to keep the secret away from her for a moment. By 6:30 AM Fiametta was already dressed for her first day working at the Majesterian Embassy, with extra relief that her diaper panty doesn´t crinkle that loud and could raise some suspicions from her Mom. "I´m so proud of you landing your first job Sweetheart!" said Fiametta´s Mom while serving breakfast, Fiametta, still stressed about her nightmare changed her face to her usual happy one and replied "It's like it came from the Heavens! I was so excited during the night i barely had some sleep!", Fiametta never felt so bad to lying her Mother that way...
Meanwhile at the Majesterian Embassy, Adaleiz was already up since 5:00 AM training herself with morning excercises all the way until it was 6:00 AM, as Adaleiz was walking out to take a shower, Tess was getting both Elysia and Meifeng up to have breakfast before school not without a good fight "We can do this the easy way, come with me and have a peaceful breakfast or face the rage of an upset Colton! Your call!" Tess knew she still wasn´t 100% recovered from her first encounter with Amaya, with Elysia and Meifeng bickering each other again, Tess was frustrated "I can´t believe this happens every single day since we´ve met!" Adaleiz petted Tess´ shoulder "They´re still young, they need someone stern, and that person is you Tess! You need to rest more, are you fully recovered? The War Lady really gave you a run for your money!" Tess replied with a smile on her face "I´m fine Adaleiz! Like i said last night, Roughness runs wild on our veins, Colton Veins!" Adaleiz wasn´t 100% convinced "You know what, I´ll take Elysia and Mei to school, you´re going back to bed! And it´s a direct order!" Tess just pouted "But i don´t like to stay in bed for so long!" Adaleiz then replied "Tess, as your leader is one of my obligations to take care of my team" Tess was a bit upset but she got Adaleiz´ point then she warned Adaleiz "If you´re getting a shower, please be quick, i don´t want the girls to be late for School!" Adaleiz just smiled again and ended the conversation with "Will do! Now go head back to bed!" Adaleiz then made a athletic slap to Tess´ diaper which made her a small blush with a "Stop it!" and a giggle from Tess also prompted to warn like a worried Mom "Hey! Don´t forget to check her School bags! Elysia keeps hiding her phone and uses it when she´s not allowed to and Meifeng is bluffing about some Brass Knuckles! And! And! Also check if they have Spare pull ups for the day!" Adaleiz comforted Tess with a joke "Yes Mom! Will do!"
On the Pocket Dimension Anastasia barely had some sleep only to be recieved by Amaya who was using some of Anastasia´s servants as Punching dummies, Anastasia not caring about her servants, asked Amaya "Don´t you know the meaning of Sleeping?" Amaya quicly fired back "I sleep for two hours and only twqo hours, i spent the rest keeping myself in peak optimal condition... So i can finish her off" Amaya was actually impressed with Tess´ strength but she was too proud to admit that a Diapered Human could almost match a War Lady´s strength. Amaya was so focused on Tess that she finished off the unlucky Servant with a deadly blow, Anastasia wasn´t very impressed and was quick to ask "Have you seen Aiko? I cannot find her?" Amaya for the first time was on the same page with Anastasia "Now that you asked... I have not seen her either, where ever she is right now, it might be full of chaos or she just playing Hide and Seek". On that moment, The Queen pays a call "My Daughters! Please Report!" Anastasia and Amaya made a reverence to the Queen followed by the remaining servants, Anastasia stepped up "My Queen, We are honoured by your call!" The Queen cut short Anastasia "If you are done with your nonsensical flattering Anastasia, i want to know about Amaya. It is said that you made quite an impression with these... Humans, am I right?" As the Queen asked, Amaya replied, "Pathetic weaklings pieces of scum, All of them! They might serve as our pets once we get those Babies off our way!" The Queen was impressed with Amaya´s report "I am trusting you Amaya alongside Aiko to make this mission to succeed!" Anastasia quickly asked "My Queen, Aiko has not been seen since the Dawn, do you have any idea where is she?", The Queen was cold with Anastasia "Aiko is on a place that is not your concern Anastasia!", Visibly offended, Anastasia limited herself to a begrudgingly response "Yes my Queen!"
Adaleiz as she told Tess, was driving to drop Elysia and Meifeng at School, "Ok, girls, this is your stop!" with Elysia complaining about Tess´ absence "This is not the same without Tess..." Meifeng discerned "This was the most quiet drive i've been! And i didn´t even need a change after jumping out of the car... Unlike Tess driving!", Adaleiz turned a bit to them to remind them "Girls, Tess is still recovering from the fight from yesterday, i've never seen someone stronger than us aside for The Queen, so please try to be more close to each other and not fight between each other! Now head to your classroom! I´ll pick you up later! If there´s an alarm I´ll take Fiametta with me!" Both girls complained with Elysia questioning "But it is an emergency? What we were supposed to do?" A question Adaleiz quickly replied "You two stay at school and calmed! No powers!" Elysia pouted out of protest "Don´t pout on me Young Lady! Come on! To the classroom!"
At the Embassy, Tess was on her bedroom sleeping as Adaleiz requested her, Tess was sleeping with just her pajama shirt and her thick AB Diaper as they´re comfy, and Fiametta was just arriving for her first day working as a Journalist for the Embassy´s blog, Fiametta was trying to be more excited as she sit up on a room that Elysia made available for her to work "Alright! First day! This is something i was expecting to do! Showtime!" Fiametta then spent her day writing, editing and posting information on the Blog, keeping her mind busy was her way to not think about being diapered, as she was typing, a comfortable smile was appearing on her face.
At School Elysia and Meifeng were with their respective groups on the same Classroom, their Teacher started the day with an announcement. "Girls please, Pay Attention! Today we´re recieving a new student from overseas" The Teacher turn her sights to the new girl and asked her "Do you wish to introduce yourself?", Elysia and Meifeng from their desks as they sensed something off, the New Girl entered the classroom and introduced herself with a soft voice "Hello! I am Aiko Ella Braaten , Im 15, a Child Prodigy, Despite my Japanese Heritage I was Born and raised in Europe, My Family is Known for Founding the Braaten Games Company, When i turn 21 i will become the next CEO of the company!" Aiko used her trickster abilities to warp the memories of the other students and the Teacher with obvious exception of Elysia and Meifeng with their respective stones protecting them, Elysia defying Adaleiz and Tess orders texted Meifeng discreetly "Did you felt that?", Meifeng replied "Yeah! But i can´t pinpoint the source! We're getting blind!", Elysia wrapped up "We are going to wait until Lunch so we can talk privately. Something is really off here!". As the morning passed Elysia and Meifeng kept an eye on Aiko as she excelled in Math, Chemestry, Literature and Sports.
Finally at Lunch Elysia and Meifeng were about to eat what Tess prepared for them, as they were eating they were discussing about Aiko "This girl is hiding something! No one can excel on many things like that!" Elysia remarked "The New Girl Aiko.. she´s just bluffing but at least we´re on the same page about something not right with her!" Meifeng replied to which Elysia replied "I hate to admit, but this time i am agree with you!".
On The Pocket Dimension Anastasia was losing her patience because Aiko was nowhere to be seen, Amaya stepped in to tell "Whatever the Hell Aiko is doing... Might be full of chaos and conquer! Speaking of... I want some battle with those Damsel Babies! Specifically with that one that calls herself... Tess..." Anastasia replied with frustration "A bit of mayhem would be fine, at least that would lift my mood" but before tagging along Amaya stopped Anastasia "Wait, Under my Queen´s orders, You will have to stay here!" Anastasia on a outrage replied "Bu-But it can not be... I AM the next on the Crown lineage!" Amaya limited herself to reply "My Queen ordered me to keep you here... For your safety!" Anastasia pouted and took seat on her sofa as she saw Amaya opening up a Dark portal to a Dark Alley on the street, Amaya used a crystal that Aiko gave her and in a flash her Battle Gear changed to a Tomboyish Girl Attire...
Amaya´s Flashback
"In order to make sure that my Bumbling Daughter Anastasia ruins this plan, you two must go to Planet Earth where the Elemental Stones were last seen and lost by Anastasia, Keep her on the Pocket Dimension, Her mission now befalls on your Hands" Ordered The Queen to Amaya and Aiko, both girls replied and made a Salute gesture to The Queen "Yes my Beloved Queen!", before departing Earth, Amaya stepped in on her favourite Tavern having a Drink before departing, she was expecting someone "So it was true right?" A mysterious girl talked to Amaya to which Amaya replied looking at her drink "Yes, it is true... I am leaving in just a few hours and that is why i wanted to see you Victoria" Victoria took seat on the same table as Amaya and asked her "Do you think this will get you a clue to find your Sister?", Amaya didn´t replied, her face looked unusually sad and emotive she then replied looking at Victoria "I am 100% right that this will get me close to my sister! I am very confident about it!" Victoria kept smiling at Amaya "you have not really changed at all since our days at the Games, you will find her someday! Until then..." Victoria stepped up and kissed Amaya on her forehead to then saying before leaving "I will wait for both of you but do not expect me to stay awake! Take care My Champion!"
Present Day
Amaya kept walking undercover until she found a place to start her attack...
In the Majesterian Embassy Fiametta finished her duties for the day, "That was exciting! I think i was only overthinking this! I´m going to take a break!" Fiametta then headed to Elysia´s Room to find out Adaleiz with her top and a plain white diaper on and Tess with her fave shirt and a different diaper. Fiametta was glad to see them and so were the Girls "Hey Fiametta! Welcome back!" Tess said on a happy tone, Fiametta replied "Hey Adaleiz! Hey Tess! By the way, Tess, are your minor injuries better now?" Tess nodded to reply, Adaleiz smirked at Fiametta "Fiametta, did you finished your duties for the Day?" Fiametta nodded "I´m just taking my well deserved break!" Adaleiz stood up, walked towards Fiametta and then took off her pants revealing her Diaper-Like panties, Fiametta blushed red again as a wet spot started to form, Adaleiz told Fiametta, "Don´t worry you´ll get used to this, Tess, could you pass me one of your Fresh Diapers?" Tess replied "Yes!" but before that Adaleiz sensed danger on her Stone "The War Lady is back! Tess are you 100% recovered?" Tess replied with a energetic "Yes!" Adaleiz looked at Fiametta "You better stay next to me this time, we´re not counting with Elysia and Meifeng this time as i ordered them to stay at school! Let´s Go! I´ll change Fiametta´s Diaper on the way" Fiametta blushed more "C-change my Diaper?!" Adaleiz told her "Let me remind you, we can´t use our powers with Wet Diapers! Let´s go!"
Adaleiz, Tess and Fiametta then Headed to the Downtown where Amaya is causing Chaos but at the same time at School, things were going to be quite wild for Elysia and Meifeng...
To Be Continued... |
Hi! First of all! Sorry for the long absence! Despite that, the Episode is here! Enjoy!
Episode 5 – X = Damsels – 2
As Amaya was once again making the city a whole mess, Elysia and Meifeng had troubles of their own with a mysterious new student on their school. During lunch time Elysia and Meifeng sit down to talk about this student. "From Europe, Please! It is obvious that she´s lying! On top of that she is a magic user!" Elysia was upset about Aiko´s trickery, Meifeng replied with her mouth still full "-munch- maybe she´s another Damsel that -munch, munch, gulp- we weren´t aware of, i mean, Fiametta got just yesterday and who knows maybe there are more don´t you think? And making some memory not long ago you and i got into this, do you remember how was your life before?" Elysia then looked at Meifeng very serious...
Elysia´s Flashback – a Year ago
It´s a Cloudy morning in the Majesterian Palace, Home where the Royalty Lives, and Princess Elysia´s life would change that day... "EXCHANGE STUDENT?!" (Elysia Toov – 16 Yrs Old/ High School Student/ Princess of the Kingdom of Majesteria) "Father! This is an outrage!" Elysia wasn´t very pleased with the news, on The Royal Study, Elysia´s Father continued the conversation "It has come to my Attention that your grades are not what we were expecting from a Future Queen, Elysia, what is going on with you? I was expecting more coming from..." (Prince Björn Toov – 53 Years Old/ 2nd in the Line of Sucession of the Majesterian Royal Family/ Senator of the Upper Chamber/ Elysia´s Father), Elysia quickly interrupted her Father "Father, with all due respect, i am working as hard as i can at school, but things got tough since" Elysia quickly turned her eyes to a Family Portrait of her Father, her Mother and a young man around his late teens, Elysia resumed, "He used to help me with School, he was very busy but he always had time for me, time that my Mother or you rarely have". Prince Björn´s natural reaction would be to scold Elysia with just a warning however he knew what she was talking about, somberly remembering, Prince Björn comments "I understand things went very difficult since your Brother went missing, i do my best to make time for you, working is the think that helped me to keep my mind busy, you let the situation take over your mind stressing you and not focusing" Elysia was offended "Father, do you hear your own words? You said we should remain toghether, then why both of you leave me alone? Not just for school, for everything! Now you are sending me even far away from you?!" Prince Björn didn´t replied Elysia´s question, he limited to comment "No matter how much you object, preparations are well under way, you are leaving tomorrow night, you are heading to America, where you will be studying at an All Girls School, extra security has been issued just for you and by the Power Invested in Me as Prince and with the Permission of the Senate I, Prince Björn of Majesteria, procclaim you Princess Elysia of Majesteria, The Youngest Ambassador of Majesteria, you will represent us to the People in the American Continent. Please behave properly." Elysia was in shock, "Elysia, Elysia, Elysia!" ELYSIA WAKE UP!"
Present Day
Meifeng talked to make Elysia get back to reality "Lunch Time is over! We´re gonna be late for the next class!", Elysia, while reacting didn´t replied, only followed Meifeng. However Aiko was watching them several tables of distance from them. She then smirked.
In Downtown things gets complicated with Amaya facing off Adaleiz, Tess and Fiametta again, Amaya doesn´t believe in numerical advantages coming from the Damsels, her hand to hand combat skills are highly superior to those of Adaleiz and Tess, Fiametta tries her best with some Fire Slashes from her Fire Sword however she´s still a novice and most of her attacks ends up creating more debris and damages, Adaleiz shouted "FIAMETTA! STOP PLAYING AROUND!" Fiametta replied "My Bad!" Adaleiz later ordered "Fiametta! Aim to that Hydrant! Your fire with the water would make some steam!" Fiametta looked and following Adaleiz instructions made a Fire Slash to the Hydrant then Fiametta concentrated her energy into the sword making it burst in flames to finally make the steam impairing some of Amaya´s view "Hiding will not make things easier for you!" Amaya shouted out loud while The Damsels entered into an alley for a tactical move.
At School, in the middle of the class, Aiko wrote two notes and using her mind control, she made the notes being passed all the way to Elysia and Meifeng, "Meet me at the School Gardens After School, I want to meet you – Aiko", both girls had their suspicions about Aiko not being the girl everybody think she is. The Teacher was then handing over exam sheets and when reaching Aiko´s desk she asked "Aiko, this is your first day here, you really want to do this?" Aiko using her mind tricks again replied "Yes, Dear Teacher! I was studying this subject in my Previous School Overseas, The Teacher already in trance handed over a test sheet to Aiko with Meifeng and Elysia watching. The next two hours the classroom was full on the test, Meifeng had several troubles remembering the answers so she opted to sneak a tiny cheat sheet meanwhile, Elysia while answering she had some memories on her mind...
Elysia´s Flashback extended
Elysia upon arriving remained cold and upset to her staff at the Majesterian Embassy, with the days passing by and still without news about the whereabouts of ther Brother, Elysia soon fell into a depression, to make it worse it was her first day at School, "Girls before we start, please Welcome our newest Student, She hails from The Land of Majesteria and she is a Royal, Please Come in Sweetheart!" The Teacher made a polite introduction and then Elysia entered the classroom with all the other Girls impressed Elysia just wrote her name on the Whiteboard and then took her seat, without saying a word, over the course of the day, Elysia really impressed everyone as she excelled in everything, yet she had her angst at the top of everything, the day then turned cloudy with lightning bolts striking, Elysia pretended to be paying attention however when comes to the lighting bolts a memory from some time before her Brother went missing, "There is a Storm coming, are you really Sure about doing this trip on this conditions Johann?" Elysia asked, "It is ok my Dear Sparky Sister, I have been on situations like this before and here i am!" (Prince Johann Toov – 20 Years Old/ 3rd in the Line of Sucession of the Majesterian Royal Family/ Pilot of the Royal Majesterian Air Force / Elysia´s Older Brother), Elysia hugged her brother with all of her strength replying "Do NOT call me Sparky!" Prince Johann giggled a bit to then pet his Sister in the head "Look. You are the Spark of this Family, Like it or not! Each time i go with the Air Force i place my favorite photo on my helmet (he shows a Photo with Prince Björn, his wife Princess Alexia, Prince Johann -aged 8- and Princess Elysia -aged 4-) Elysia concerned requested her brother "Please, Do not go there with this weather!", her brother went serious, he hugged back Elysia while a Maid entered the Room informing Prince Johann that his vehicle has arrived, Elysia, now crying called her brother while being held by Maids, she could only see her brother departing, then she screamed out loud "JOHAAAAAAAAAAAAANN!", the weather went worse over the course of the day until the night with Elysia now in a night shirt sneaking into her Father´s Study, his face was in complete shock and denial as a Soldier was talking to him, Elysia heard the words she feared the most and another lightning striked getting Elysia back to reality on the classroom with the other Girls, Mei Feng and Aiko working on their tests (and cheating in the case of the Latter two), Elysia saw the weather was starting to get similar to that day and continues to remember the exact moment her life changed...
In the City, Adaleiz, Fiametta and Tess were running out of ideas to contain Amaya´s attack, things were getting worse as the weather started to get cloudy and stormy. Amaya still blinded by the makeshift Fog used her nose to detect the smell of the Girls with several close calls the girls took a moment to breathe until the moment Adaleiz took a deep breath, her crotch was getting warm, "No! Not now!" Fiametta and Tess were alarmed and out of the blue Amaya´s arm made a hole into the wall taking Adaleiz with her "I Got you now!" Adaleiz was screaming out of pain while Fiametta and Tess started chasing Amaya, "Let... Me...GO!" with a glow of her Halberd, Adaleiz managed to blind Amaya who quickly let her go. Tess then threw her Mace at Amaya who managed to see again and quickly deflected, it but at the same time exposed herself to a direct punch to her face by Tess and double tapped by Fiametta´s Fire Slash which took Amaya off balance, Tess with the help of Fiameta made a combined attack to defeat Amaya and when the smoke disappeared... Amaya was there, standing, just taking the dust out of her shoulder sarcastically commenting "Is this what you all got to show? I am not impressed, after all i..." Amaya´s torso began to feel a painful reaction "What the?!" Amaya was shocked that the combined attack left her a burn mark, enraged, Amaya was about to continue however The Queen telepathically ordered Amaya to retreat. "Grrr... Hmph! This is NOT the End!" commented Amaya and in a blink with a dark portal, she disappeared. Fiametta and Tess then fell to their knees relieved with Fiametta getting to Adaleiz, "Are you ok?" Fiametta Asked, Adaleiz just replied "Just a few bruises and a soaked diaper", upon hearing it, Tess giggles and replied "Know that feeling!", Adaleiz went back to her serious face while being helped by Fiametta and Tess as their clothes were returning to normal, "That girl is a danger!" Commented Adaleiz, Tess then pointed out "But we had some sort of effect with we combine our powers", Fiametta thought "If we could scratch her with a 2-Girl combo attack, what would happen if we use a 5-Girl combo attack?", Adaleiz replied "Well, that will be our homework... For now..." Adaleiz blushed a bit and finished "I need a change"...
Back at the School the test was over as all the girls were leaving the classroom there were Meifeng, Aiko smirking and a very introspective Elysia...
One last bit of Elysia´s memory...
Elysia´s first day ended off with a lot of stress and nostalgia for her homeland, she only wanted someone to comfort her, she really missed her Brother and only she could find more people to stress her more, out of the sudden in the School Gardens Elysia stumbled upon a fight, a Girl in a Black attire and another girl in a Silver Uniform, the girl in Black launched an attack towards the Silver Uniform Girl knocking her out then she rushed to also attack Elysia who out of fear ran for her life, accidentally touching a glowing rock on the ground who then channeled a Lightning Bolt covering Elysia´s Body, she wasn´t harmed at all and then, when the bolt disappeared, Elysia emerged in a Purple Uniform and a Spear on her Right Hand, her body was generating electricity now and with just tapping the rod of the spear new Lightning Bolts were summoned to attack the Black attired Girl... "That day i met Adaleiz, I also met Anastasia... That Day i Honored my Brother from being a Spark to become a Thunder... I became the Damsel Knight of Thunder...." Elysia said to herself, Meifeng quickly placed her hand on Elysia´s shoulder and asked her "You ok?" Elysia nodded while both girls watched Aiko who then whispered at them "Follow me!" as Aiko left the classroom, Elysia told Meifeng "Something is absolutely wrong with that girl!" Meifeng replied "This is a bad idea... I´m in to meet her!" Elysia sighed at her frustration to follow Aiko´s petition to see her at the Gardens, then, she looked at the window with the Stormy Weather getting clear, Elysia knows that despite her current situation her Brother is now Her Spark that makes her keep fighting.
To Be Continued... |
Hi! Sorry for the long hiatus! Been busy and still busy, yet! Here´s the continuation! Enjoy! ?
Episode 7 – Family
It has been another tough day for the Damsel Knights, again, they barely survived another encounter with Amaya, on top of that, with 2 missing girls. Meifeng and Elysia under Adaleiz orders, remained at school where Aiko put her own plan into motion and told Meifeng and Elysia to meet her at the School´s Gardens to get a bit closer... The Weather went a bit clear but it was for sure this was the calm before the storm...
"This is a bad idea don´t you think? It is very suspicious!" Elysia shared her thoughts with Meifeng, "And guess what? I´m all about bad ideas!" Meifeng replied, Elysia annoyed asked "Why are you all about bad ideas?!" Meifeng simply replied "It´s a long story..."
5 Years Earlier...
The City, a very convoulted place, there´s a seemingly normal school. With a Girl waiting outside the Principal´s Office with some bruises... "Hmpf!" ( 杨美峰 – Yang Meifeng – 12 yrs Old/ Student). Meifeng was just sitting, upset, her parents could be heard inside the Principal´s office, it´s a heated discussion. Later the Yang Family is heading home... Meifeng´s Father had a worried look on his face "Aren´t you telling us what really happened Young Lady?" (杨静生Yang Jing-sheng – 43 Yrs Old, Manager), Meifeng just looked to the window, her Mother was more than serious "The Bruises tells it all, you got into another fight!" (杨振明 – Yang Zhen Ming – 39 Yrs Old – Physiotherapist), Meifeng limited to cross her arms out of spite. Her Mother continued "Meifeng, we expect a lot from you! You don´t know how much we suffered to get our spots? Your Father barely have Breaks and you made him leave his post just to being told that you got into another fight! I left a Patient at the Clinic just to be informed that you got involved in another fight!" her Mother was dropping some silent tears "Why? Why you keep doing this to us?!", Meifeng replied "I was protecting a classmate from a Bully!" her Mother cut Meifeng short "You don´t need to get involved on other people´s things! ... We still have time to correct your behavior, and for that we have to pull you out of school first" Meifeng was shocked "Y-you can´t do that!" Her Father replied "It´s for your own good! And it´s our final decision!"
Meifeng was effectively pulled out of the School and subsequent days were completely hetic for her as her Parents cut her out of all her friendships and spent the rest of the year with Private Tutors. However getting the school´s validations to get the spot wasn´t that easy, Meifeng spent the next two years being restricted by her Parents on those years her relationship with her Parents became very strained up to the point of barely talking to them, Meifeng spent nights looking at the window, dreaming with reuniting with the friends she lost halfaway. Time passed Two more years and it was the very last chance for her to get in the School, It was a very festive moment at the Yang Family Residence... "Dear Mr. And Mrs. Yang, after studying carefully your situation, the Board of the School has decided to Approve your solitiation, hereby your Daughter Meifeng must report to our Campus on..." Meifeng´s Mother couldn´t hold her tears anymore and stopped reading the Mail, Meifeng just stood there, frustrated after three years with pressure on her shoulders. Meifeng walked off the living room back to her bedroom, her parents didn´t even noticed as they were more focused on the school than their own daughter, Meifeng, sitting on her bed contemplated the view of the city on her window, then a voice kept repeating her name... "Meifeng! Mefeng! Meifeng WATCH OUT!" A big slap broke the silence as Meifeng crashed with the door that leads to the Gardens, "Would you mind to pay attention to your surroundings for once Meifeng?!" Elysia reprimanded Meifeng, then she opened the door, beyond that point Aiko was already sitting on a bench, with a portable tea set and snacks ready. Meifeng was just rubbing her forhead as she replied Elysia "I always pay attention! I do have other things to care about!". Meanwhile on the Pocket Dimension, Amaya was reluctantly healed by Anastasia "Hmpf, How this could happen?!" Amaya commented, Anastasia replied with some sarcasm "You are not so perfect now?", followed by a bickering giggle. The Queen called again, "Laughing on others´ failures is Rude and Unwise Anastasia!", Anastasia went silent, she turned to see the Queen and replied "B-but everyone laughs at my..." the Queen fired back at Anastasia "If you had at least some decent victories Anastasia, I would stand by your side, but you proved me over, and over again that you are not worth of everyone´s respect! Amaya on the other hand, is the Ultimate Definition of a Loyal Servant, she has everything you do not have!". Amaya, still with all of the pain of the burn mark, stood up and made a reverence to the Queen "I appreciate your trust my Queen, I beg your Pardon for my failure today!". The Queen showed mercy to Amaya much to Anastasia´s dismay "Amaya, you have my Royal Pardon." she then raised her hand and with a portion of her magic, the Queen healed quickly Amaya´s wound. Anastasia was in shock and jealous, but she remained silent as her words would follow on deaf ears and would land her on more troubles.
Upon their return to the Majesterian Embassy, Fiametta, Adaleiz and Tess were recovering from the battle. Fiametta had enough time to take a shower and change her diaper to a pull up to get back to work with a rushed lunch. Adaleiz was covering her hair with a towel after taking her shower as she talked with Tess about the Combo Attack they just did "Fiametta kept me thinking about that combo attack, don´t get me wrong, it looks interesting, but she´s still a Rookie Knight" Tess replied "Maybe Fiametta should remain training individually while we practice the combo attacks with Meifeng and Elysia", Adaleiz kept a thoughtful face then commented "For now Fiametta´s training is a priority... Tess i need a favor... I want you to train Fiametta please" a big smile was formed on Tess´ face prompting a reply "Say no more! Gonna take her to the Colton Ranch to start training right away!" Adaleiz then changed her expression to a concerned face and a comment "I think i´m already regretting this!" Tess kept skipping happily that she didn´t noticed she wet herself.
On the School Gardens, Meifeng and Elysia attended Aiko´s invitation, Elysia sat down and accepted the Tea, Meifeng on the other hand refused the Tea and popped out a can of Grape Soda out of her backpack, she accepted the crackers though, Aiko then started the conversation "Maybe we started with the wrong feet. I want to be your friend. That is all!", Elysia went into full diplomatic mode "I appreciate your intention. After all, I know what it feels to be the new Girl from a foreign Country starting from zero!", "From Zero, from zero...Zero" these words kept echoing on Meifeng´s head and took her back to her very first day as a Student... " It was the toughest day i had, i could only see all the other girls looking at me, with those piercing eyes..." Meifeng told to herself...
Meifeng´s First day
"I welcome you to a new year everyone! I see many familiar faces here" The Teacher was adressing and spotted a girl that didn´t followed exactly the hair code of the rest, she then requested the student to introduce herself, the student reluctantly proceeded "Nǐ hǎo! My name is Yang Meifeng! It is a pleasure to meet you!” ( 杨美峰 – Yang Meifeng – 16 yrs Old/ Student)", Meifeng looked at the rest of the class with a very uncomfortable look on her face, "The other girls were chit chatting, i clearly didn´t belonged here..." Meifeng´s day was a complete disaster, all of the other girls acted mean towards her in many different ways, "I went to the Janitor´s storage, don´t ask me how i found it, to cry... I, i really wanted to leave, i hated the place. My words would fall into deaf ears. I kept crying so much i went dry and returned to the classroom. After school i was walking back home, i really contemplated to take my things and run away, however... Things took a interesting turn when i met them... it was a windy day, good thing i ditched the school´s skirt in favor of some pants... Yet, i was far from being safe" As Meifeng kept walking down the streets, the speed of the winds were increasing, soon enough, Meifeng had to take refuge on a abandoned building, still safe, yet on the edge of being dangerous. " I thought i was safe until i stumbled upon... some blacked out hobos, the place smelled like a dumpster, the few lights went off... except for one." Meifeng walked all the Lobby following the Green light as a beacon when a Girl in a black dress appeared "Oh and I met Anastasia that day..." Anastasia appeared from a Dark Portal just in front of Meifeng, then she exclaimed "I managed to get to the Stone of the Wind before those Pesky Girls! Finally the Queen will respect me!" Anastasia noticed Meifeng´s presence near the stone and she then used a bit of Diplomacy... "Hey you! Be a good Boy and hand over that Stone to me!" Meifeng was really offended about being mistaken with a Boy and just as she was about to fire back, a Bright Light and the sound of the Thunder popped in, Two Grils with a Silver and a Purple uniform respectively appeared to face off Anastasia, "I also met my Friends there and what happened next changed my whole life!" after a short battle between the Knights and Anastasia, Meifeng had an opening and joined the fight using loose debris to throw at Anastasia, the Girl with the Silver Uniform ordered the Purple Uniform Girl to put Meifeng into safety... They started to argue "Are you wishing to die?! That Girl in Black is Dangerous!" the Purple Uniform Girl berated Meifeng, then Meifeng replied "I pretty much lost everything i loved, the fact there´s no reason for me to stay alive doesn´t mean everybody else has to die!" The Purple Girl was moved yet, she kept her stance and berated Meifeng a bit more before comforting her "You IDIOT! You have a lot to live! You´re still young! Think of your family!" Meifeng wasn´t very moved "My Parents won´t do anything outside my School´s Grades", The Purple Girl broke into tears "At least you still have a Family!", Meifeng keeps remembering "Elysia´s reply made me curious... Later she breifly told me that she Lost her Mother and her Older Brother and her motivations to protect everyone... i felt like garbage because of how i was watching my Parents! So i made up my mind". Meifeng defying Elysia´s warning headed back to the battle where the Silver Girl was losing the battle, Anastasia was dangerously close to the Stone of Wind, Elysia screamed "ADALEIZ! WATCH OUT!", Meifeng picked up more debris and threw some of those to Anastasia "H-hey! That... That is RUDE!" with a burst of Dark Magic Anastasia quickly set her sights to Meifeng who started taunting her in many hilarious ways, Meifeng saw a chance and just when Anastasia was about to catch her, Meifeng slided under Anastasia´s dress making another taunt "Nice Lingerie sweetie!" Anastasia embarrassed, covered herself while Meifeng finally retrieved the stone. "And this is the part where everything gets wild!" Upon touching the Stone Meifeng felt the air concentrating around her like a small tornado, Anastasia´s face was red from shame and then red from Rage "NOT FAIR! THIS IS NOT FAIR!" she cried out, Elysia arrived helping her partner "Adaleiz, are you ok?" Adaleiz replied "Yes! Looks like we are more!" Elysia couldn´t believe that the new member was the reckless Girl she tried to save a few moments ago "This... Is bad comedy!". The air formed a small cyclone that covered Meifeng and a bright Green Light shined from the eye of the cyclone, then it dissolved with Meifeng emerging dressed with a Green Uniform and her reaction was... "A SKIRT?! I HAVE A SKIRT ON THIS?! WHAT´S WRONG WITH THIS ROCK?! GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK!" Anastasia took advantage of Meifeng´s anger to attack however Meifeng´s moves had a lot of energy that triggered her Aerokinesis and then it formed her weapon out of thin air "I materialized my own weapons which turned out to be Fans, that was the first time i felt i could do anything and everything that my Parents hated, however it was more about protecting the people than a personal matter... So I taunted Anastasia a bit more and her reaction when i told her i was a Girl and not a Boy was priceless, then with 2 powerful blows from my Fans, she could only retreat", Just after Anastasia´s humiliating retreat, Meifeng is approached by Elysia and Adaleiz, Elysia wasn´t very happy yet, she was more than satisfied that the Stone chose another Girl, Adaleiz then asked Meifeng about her name, Elysia pouted and said "Meifeng! Meifeng! MEIFENG WAKE UP!"
Present Day
"Wh-what i was..." Meifeng reacted confused to Elysia´s calls, Elysia wasn´t amused and then both started to argue, Aiko was smiling as she was sensing their respective Stones.
"You stood there like a statue! What is wrong with you?!" Elysia reprimands Meifeng while Meifeng fights back "I had some memories! What are you gonna do?! Arrest me?! We´re not in your Country Princess!" Elysia was offended and pouted, then the argument kept going when out of the blue Aiko started clapping and laughing, the Girls stopped and looked at her classmate acting weird.
"Both of you! Are really entertaining, you carry the same item, you are very close to each other yet, you are complete opposites. I am really sorry that i have to end this, my Queen would love having you as a Comedy Duo for her amusement. But she cannot use the stones you carry as long as you are still alive"
Both Meifeng and Elysia were in shock, Meifeng bragged about it "HAH! I told ya!" only to be shut down by Elysia "I remind you that I had the bad feeling! Now we have to fight her!" Meifeng had a smile on her face "I was waiting the whole day to do this!" just as she was about to transform, Aiko used her magic to take control of the school and turn it into a twisted playground, then taunted the Girls while using a Dark Portal to move into another location of the School notr before addressing the now mind controlled Students and Crew "Attention everyone, this is your New Principal... There are two Girls with cute pieces of Jewelry, your next assignment is to kill those Girls and bring me their Elemental Stones!". Elysia was more than stressed and told Meifeng to transform. "Even if we break Adaleiz´s orders, we have to save those other innocent girls" Elysia explained Meifeng begrudgingly and reluctanctly stated "I have a feeling i´m regretting this so much!" and without anything else to add, both Girls transformed into their Knights´ Uniform, summoned their weapons and started out facing off the Garden Monsters
As Elysia and Meifeng were facing not only the mind controlled civilians but also Plant creatures that Aiko also summoned, Meifeng had more flashbacks...
A Bitter Farewell...
It was 3 days after Meifeng became the Knight of the Wind and her whole world was turned upside down for her best... However there was a big Elephant in the Room...
"Mr. and Mrs. Yang, as Ambassador of the Kingdom of Majesteria and classmate of your Daughter, it will be my responsablility to take good care of her" Elysia had a hard time telling Meifeng´s Parents due to not liking Meifeng at all and due to being a New Knight, she had to put her pride on the back for the sake of the growing Knights, Meifeng´s Mother didn´t said a word at the beginning, she was completely upset yet, was kind enough to reply "Please, please Make sure that my Daughter stay out of troubles!". As the Yangs kept talking with Elysia, Meifeng was waiting outside the house, Adaleiz was getting the car ready to leave and then she spotted Meifeng... "Are you leaving without saying at least a "Good Bye" to your Parents?" Adaleiz asked, Meifeng just replied "We´re... Not on good terms, is for the best. Less worries to them, Less worries for me, everybody wins!". Adaleiz frowned and then opened the car, as she was sitting on the driver´s seat she told Meifeng "You should say something before anything happens. Becoming a Knight comes with a Great Price, if something happens to you, your parents will still care about you. And if something happens to them, you´ll gonna regret it for the rest of your life"... Adaleiz´ words made Meifeng think about it...
Back to reality
Meifeng keeps fighting as she thinks "Thing is that i was upset with my Parents, i did everything they wanted for most of my life so far, i wanted to do my own things... I didn´t said good bye to them, nor i ever talked to them again, i can bet for sure they got over and most likely pretend that i didn´t existed, I´m ok with my team and what i do... I still have a strong dislike for Skirts and wearing diapers, but that´s a Story for another time... If we make it out of this!"
As the fight raged, very far away on the Yang´s Residence, Meifeng´s Parents are returning from their respective workplaces, The house is now decorated with all the awards and acolades that Meifeng has achieved since she was a little girl, as they head to their bedroom and they can´t help but to stop in front of a door, Mr. Yang opens the door, It´s Meifeng´s bedroom, untouched. They would feel that their Daughter vanished from the face of Earth without Elysia updating them about Meifeng´s whereabouts. The Yangs somberly resume their routine as they have hopes that their Daughter will ever talk to them again...
To Be Continued... |
Hi! It has been a while since the last update, i´ve been busy with RL things, but decidedly to continue this story until the end!
Enjoy the long awaited Episode 8! ?
Episode 8 – Little High School of Horrors
As Aiko put her plans into motion by taking over the School, Meifeng and Elysia battles their way to get her. Unfortunately the risks are too high for the Knights right now...
"I will take care of the the plant creatures! Try to not harm the brainwashed Girls or the Staff!" Elysia commanded Meifeng only to be replied "And you thought Survival Horror games didn´t had training values!" Meifeng waved her fans creating gusts of wind pushing back the Controlled Students. Elysia wan´t very amused "Keep your focus Meifeng! This is NOT a stupid Game of yours!" Elysia reprimanded Meifeng while she swinged her Spear at a plant creature.
In the Pocket Dimension, Amaya was meditating after being healed, she kept her focus on Tess despite being defeated by a combination attack, Anastasia was wandering around the corridors, still upset about being constantly berated by her own partners and the Queen "Why?! Why?! WHY?! No matter how much effort i put into my mission, I keep being mistreated like this!" in the middle of her self loathing to find a very little known corridor, one with a Bright Blue Light, "Ok, i... I did not had any knowledge about this corridor... I wonder where this would lead..." Anastasia thought as she was walking, following the light, upon reaching the gate, Anastasia found herself on a very peaceful garden... An Underwater Garden with a fountain in the center. The Bright Blue light acted as a Beacon, Anastasia was curious and ran towards the Fountain, her expression changed to a smug smile with the item she saw, then whispered to herself "Looks like... I have found something... How do the Earthlings call it? Ah yes... A Game Changer"
At the Embassy, Tess was laying on the Knight´s Lounge Room sofa, covered with her favorite bed sheet, she was taking a nap while Adaleiz was taking her favorite Tea, she then sensed her stone and quickly tapped Tess´ feet "Tess, wake up!", Tess, still groggy replied "Granny, Five more minutes please!", Adaleiz quickly told Tess "Tess! Mei and Elysia´s School has been taken over by Magic we..." Adaleiz was cut short when Tess jumped out of the sofa and took Adaleiz´ hand running to the action, on the Lobby, Fiametta was wrapping her day when she sensed the danger, as soon she saw Tess with Adaleiz, she followed them.
At the School, Elysia and Meifeng barely reached the School´s Hallways, now looking like a Forest with more Zombie-like Students and Staff, Elysia was disgusted "This place is looking like a Swamp!" while Meifeng was a bit cheerful to Elysia´s dismay "And pretty much smells like one! Get ready! We have a Welcome Comitee on our way!", Elysia quickly warned Meifeng "Remember, they´re still innocent students! Under any Circumstances Do Not Hurt them!" Meifeng nodded and then used her fans to make more gusts of wind pushing the other girls like in the Garden, it also exposed a bit of her diaper, Elysia used her spear to cut the vines and leaves blocking the view.
In the Principal´s Office, Aiko was having fun with the Brainwashed Principal. "Awww, you really look tired and frowny Miss... Janet. But i know what will bring you a smile!" Principal Janet was in a full trance, Aiko moved one of her fingers activating her magic, it´s effects were immediate an in mere seconds Principal Janet went from her early 40´s back into her mid Teens with her clothes a bit baggy, Aiko giggles as she watches the de aged Principal "Now we are going somewhere, yet, something is missing. Ah! I Know!" repeating her moves, Aiko transforms the baggy clothes into a proper School Uniform "There we go! Now... Be a good Student and wait outside my Office. I want you 100% Ready to welcome your classmates!" The de aged Principal could only say "Yes, my Principal..." And with that she moved to her post, Aiko then uses her magic to check on Elysia and Meifeng´s status "Some people have to learn their lessons the hard way!"
Upon arriving the School´s Block, Adaleiz, Tess and Fiametta went to an alley that leads to the School´s Garden, halfaway they transformed with Adaleiz warning her teammates "Stay alert and keep your Diapers dry! Unlike our previous encounters with the War Lady, there´s a lot of magic in here..." Fiametta made a question "Could it be that these instances are related to each other?", Adaleiz replied "Maybe, but if we want to find out, we have to move!". Tess anxious and concerned as a Team Mom commented "Whoever is behind this will have a Bad Day if i found my Girls hurt!". Upon entering the Gardens, they found a full Rainforest instead of a Garden and traces of a battle, Adaleiz, Fiametta and Tess were alert with Adaleiz commenting "It started here, I can feel Mei and Elysia´s Stones being activated here and left a trace this way!" Pointing out with her Charged Halberd, she lead the Knights to their Teammates.
On the Pocket Dimension, Anastasia was very secretive lurking on every corridor as possible, she ended up stumbling upon Amaya which made Anastasia react in fear however, upon further inspection, she noticed that Amaya was actually sleeping making her breath relieved, soon Anastasia resumed her way to a undisclosed location out of Amaya, Aiko and even the Dark Queen´s sights.
Back at the School, Meifeng and Elysia were closer to Aiko, but due to the Brainwashed civilians, their chase has been slow to not hurt anyone, Meifeng was upset "AH! This is frustating! I want to punch and cut with my fans!" Elysia was annoyed with Meifeng´s requests, yet, she praised her sense of Duty and Responsability about not harming innocent people and yet she bickered a bit "You really managed to control yourself Meifeng! I commend you for that and don´t worry, i will give you the honor to punch that Girl first!". With Elysia´s words, Meifeng then made a smile and replied "I´m gonna give that girl the beating of her life!" Meifeng then created more gusts of wind to push back the civilians.
Way behind, Adaleiz, Fiametta and Tess were being attacked with living vines, Adaleiz and Tess´ attacks were ineffective and much to their dismay it really empowered the plants up to the point of wrapping them causing them pain. Fiametta complained "This is... Painful! AGH!" still holding to her Fire Sword, Fiametta heated up her Sword causing the vines to shake out of pain and drop the Girls. The Trio knew how to proceed now and Fiametta lead the Knights with Adaleiz holding back the plants with her Halberd, Tess stunning the plants with her Mace and Fiametta finishing them with Fire Slashes. Adaleiz smiled "Good work Knights! But we´re still behind! Mei and Elysia might be in more serious troubles! Let´s go!" The Knights resumed their chase.
On the Pocket Dimension, Anastasia returned to the main lobby with Amaya still meditating however she didn´t bothered to notice her presence, the Queen was absent, the perfect moment to sneak right into her own private room which was also off limits of The Queen´s omnipresence. Once there Anastasia, with a sinister smile found a place for her new found "Game Changer", she whispered again "It is too soon to let those insignificant fools know that you exist... I have to make preparations for you!"
At School, Meifeng and Elysia were in front of Aiko´s location, however they were being held back by the Younger Principal Janet and more mind controlled students, to make the things worse the students began to mutate into plant golems, Meifeng quickly complained "REALLY?! Are we still gonna play with plants and went from Easy to Very Hard?!" The creatures rushed to the duo only to be pushed back by Meifeng´s whirlwinds, Elysia felt a bit worried due to her Electric powers having no effect on the creatures "Hold them down! I think i have a plan to stop them without hurting them!". Unfortunately the creatures´ vines caught Elysia, Meifeng tried to help her only to stopped by her friend "Do not worry about me! Find Aiko, NOW!" Meifeng hestitated "But... I´m not leaving without you!", Elysia replied to Meifeng as the vines were getting tight "Hnnggh... What are you... hnnngggh... Doing?! FIND HER AND DEFEAT HER! IT IS A ROYAL ORDER!" the vines were getting tighter causing Elysia to scream out of pain, as she screamed out loud, she began to wet herself thus, cancelling her transformation.
Elysia´s scream was loud enough to be heard by the remaining Knights as they were making her way to catch up, Tess was alarmed "ELYSIA!" Tess was enraged as she ran slamming anything with her Mace on her way, "TESS WAIT! We have to continue! Let´s go!" Adaleiz commanded to Fiametta
Aiko was watching on the hijacked office, and she was delighted "I really love this little game... Too bad everything must come to an end"
Outside, Meifeng still holding her enemies with her wind was trying to figure out how to release her Friend. Things were getting worse as she felt a small spurt on her diaper, she then focus her effort on hold her weak bladder "No, not now!", just when Meifeng was about to give up a voice broke the silence "STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRLS!", Tess was arriving to the scene slamming every vine, behind her Adaleiz and Fiametta were finishing off the vines, then they focused their attacks on the vine that was holding Elysia, Tess was quick to catch an unconscious Elysia to safety, Adaleiz helped Meifeng who was reluctant to wet herself, "Mei, it´s dangerous for you to keep holding, we will pick it up from here, Tess! Take care of them!" Adaleiz made her orders however Meifeng disagreed, "N-no! That crazy bitch put everything upside down here, and i´m not going to let her get away with it! Please! Let me face her!", Meifeng´s knight uniform soon began to flicker back and forth with her school uniform due to having started to wet herself. Adaleiz comforted Meifeng, "Hey! I know our mission is to stop them before they hurt innocent people, this is just some warning about it, but your health is also important, Let Tess take care of you or..." Meifeng was stressed enough and simply replied "Sorry Adaleiz! I can´t let this go without puching that bitch in the face before!" and with a pair of weak gusts of wind causing Adaleiz, Fiametta and Tess to cover their faces while their skirts were flapping exposing their diapers, Meifeng took the chance to continue her way chasing Aiko.
While this was happening, Aiko was delightfully enjoying the scene, she stood up from the Principal´s Chair and transformed her Princess Dress into a Battle Armor, not before whispering "Like i said... Everything must come to an end..."
In the Pocket Dimension, Amaya ended her meditation with a resolution "Damsel Knights... Your luck has come to an end..."
At School, Meifeng was hell bent on taking down Aiko, Adaleiz was upset at her rebellious mood, then she looked at Fiametta and Tess "Tess, take care of Elysia, Fiametta, let´s go!"
Both Knights nodded and soon Adaleiz and Fiametta chased Meifeng who was just arriving to the Office where Aiko was patiently waiting.
Meifeng was building up enough wind to create a typhoon and screamed out loud "YOU´RE GOING DOWN!", Aiko was just smiling and giggling "Looks like you have not learned your lesson! But do not worry! I will help you!" Aiko then used her magic to summon a Battle Baton.
Meifeng waited no more and released her charged wind power on her fans, the whirlwind was heading straight to Aiko, and with just a single move of her Battle Baton a Dark Portal of a different color appeared and absorbed the attack, Meifeng was in shock "What the?! Oh no! You didn´t!", Aiko replied with a giggle as she opened up another portal behind Meifeng, redirecting her own attack at her, Meifeng was blown straight crashing to the wall with Aiko taunting her "You are really an example of an Airhead!", as Aiko resumed her laughing taunt, Meifeng could barely get back on her feet, she let go herself a bit during the crash as her diaper was getting even more soaked causing her Knight uniform to flicker again, in pain she shouted "Is that all what you´ve got? I´ve seen better tricks online! Your portals are getting old!", Aiko stopped her laughter and made a serious face "Shush!" she moved her Baton and out of the blue more vines popped up wrapping up Meifeng in a similar manner to what they did with Elysia, Meifeng was trying to hold the pain a bit more but the pressure was too much for her and screamed out of pain.
Aiko was now enjoying Meifeng´s screams as it was Classical Music "A suitable end for such arrogant and rude person like you! My Queen will be pleased when i hand over your Wind Stone to her!". In the middle of her pain, Meifeng was reflecting "This... Hurts... But i can´t ... I can´t let that bitch to win in a cheap manner! I have to figure out something! My bladder can´t take it anymore but i don´t have any changes available!"
As Adaleiz and Fiametta were close, her stones reacted on a very dangerous manner indicating them of Meifeng´s dire situation. Alarmed, Adaleiz told Fiametta "We have to hurry up! Mei´s running out of time!"
Aiko kept taunting Meifeng "Keep screaming, your pain is Entertainment for me! And do not expect to be rescued a second time in a row... I have one big surprise for your beloved friends!" Aiko resumed her taunting laughter as Meifeng kept screaming out of pain...
To Be Continued...
Edited September 29, 2018 by donut_tire
(see edit history) |
Hello, again~
What with the hype for RWBY Volume 5 and all (shout out to anyone else going to the theatrical premier), I figured I would go ahead and put out another fanfiction idea I'd had for a while. This one takes place somewhere in the early going of Volume 4.
To anyone waiting on more of the Potion Incident, don't worry, I'm not abandoning that, this story just captured my interest for a while.
So, as always, enjoy~
________________________________________
The dull orange of the setting sun was barely visible behind the thick clouds that had crowded the sky for most of the day. This was just enough to light the way for the young Ruby Rose as she walked through the dense brush of the forest in Anima’s wild lands. It has been a long time since they had been through a town and it looked like they were still far away from the next. This meant another night camping outdoors. This was so weird to the young huntress. All the towns looked so close together on the map, but they would spend days on the road between them. Anima was so much bigger than she expected.
Right now, though, the distance between towns was not the girl’s main concern. If they were stopping here for the night, Ruby figured it was a prime moment to take care of nature’s call. It had been hours since they last took a break, and she kept herself hydrated on the road.
Ruby looked around to ensure she had gotten out of sight of the rest of team RNJR (or was it JNRR?). She took another step forward and felt a drop of wetness against her thigh. This came as a shock to the young huntress. She didn’t have to go that bad, she shouldn’t be losing control yet.
Ruby looked down to investigate. She then felt something splash on her hand. Then something dropped against the back of her head. That’s when it hit her.
Small dark spots were appearing randomly in the dirt around the girl’s feet, and they were quickly multiplying.
It had started raining, and it was picking up fast. In seconds, it went from a small drizzle to a full-on shower.
Ruby heard a few shouts from back at camp, ranging in pitch from low (Ren), to high (Nora), to even higher (Jaune). At that, the young huntress abandoned her current objective and ran back toward the shouts.
As she reached the clearing, Ruby saw the rest of the team scrambling to save their campsite from the downpour. Ren was setting up the tarp, Jaune was gathering everyone’s bedrolls, and Nora was frantically trying to save the food. Ruby ran in to help out.
Within minutes, the group managed to set up the tarp and get themselves and their supplies to safety. The tarp was just large enough to comfortably fit the four huntsman and their supplies.
Their bags were a little wet, but it didn’t look like anything a short rest in the sun wouldn’t fix. Much the same, the travelers managed to get their shelter ready before they became too wet.
Once everything was safe, Ruby wrung her cape out onto the dirt, Nora shook herself off like a dog, and Ren glared at her as most of the water she shook off managed to land on him.
“I told you we should have set up the tarp when we stopped.” Ren said as he brushed himself off.
“Well, I didn’t think it would start raining so suddenly.” Jaune defended.
“It’s been overcast all day. It was bound to start raining sometime.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a trained weatherman!”
As the boys continued their back and forth, Nora sidled up next to Ruby, sitting atop her bedroll.
“Man, that rain had some really bad timing.” She said. “I really had to go.”
“Yeah, me, too…” Ruby confided.
Nora leaned back and looked up at the sky for a moment. Ruby turned to look as well. The rain outside had swelled even further. It had turned into a complete torrential downpour. Visibility was cut by the intense rain.
“Well, doesn’t look like we have the option to do that now.” Nora said after a moment. “We’d be soaked to the bone in seconds.”
“Yeah…” Ruby responded slowly, “That wouldn’t be good, we could get sick like that...”
“I just hope we didn’t miss our last chance for the night.” Ruby added.
Nora stayed looking at the sky for a moment, seemingly rolling these words around in her head. She then leaned forward and shouted to the rest of the shelter.
` “Hey, how long do you think this rain will hold up?”
“Tough to say,” Ren responded, breaking off from his spirited debate with Jaune, “but given how dark the clouds were earlier, it could be a few hours before this lets up.”
“Hours, huh?” Nora echoed, a slight amount of concern in her voice.
“At this rate, it’s probably best if we just go to sleep.” Ren added, “The storm will hopefully blow over before morning. We didn’t make a lot of progress today; it might help to get an early start tomorrow.”
“What, and just sleep in our wet clothes?!” Nora protested.
“Nothing’s stopping us from getting changed.” Jaune pointed out.
“In front of you boys?! That’s indecent!” She shouted, covering her chest with her arms in a mock gesture of offence.
“Nora, we shared a dorm for nearly a year.” Ren cut in, flatly.
“Either way,” Nora carried on, ignoring Ren’s point, “we just had dinner. I’m not going to be able to get to sleep for a while!”
“Yeah, I’m not that tired, either.” Jaune admitted. “Maybe we could go over our plans for tomorrow or something. Who has the map?”
All four travelers looked at one another for a moment. Then all eyes turned toward Ruby. A sudden panic overcame the red-hooded girl as she realized she was the last person to have the map. She had no idea where it was now.
The girl frantically searched around before finding the map in the pouch on her back. The sides were a little wet from the rain, but it was still readable.
Jaune set the map out in the middle of their shelter and stared at it for a bit before pointing to a spot.
“So here we are. I guess that means this road is still the best path to Mistral. It looks like we might be another day or so out from the next village.”
They talked and planned for a few minutes, but Ruby quickly felt the conversation grow uninteresting. Apparently, Nora felt the same, because she soon leaned over to Ruby and poked her side to get the girl’s attention.
“A few hours, huh?” Nora repeated.
“Yeah…” Ruby agreed.
“Think you can hold out that long?”
Ruby placed a hand on her stomach. While it wasn’t incredibly urgent, she really could have used that pit stop earlier, and the drinks from dinner were starting to add on.
“I don’t know…” She admitted, “But I guess I’ll have to. What about you?”
Nora took in a sharp breath, “I’m not sure. If this lets up in an hour, maybe. But too much longer than that, it’ll be a problem.”
“What’ll be a problem?” Jaune asked. The two girls suddenly became aware he was looking at them.
Ruby felt herself blush. Wait, could they hear that whole conversation?
Before she could say anything, Nora grabbed Ruby and pulled her back a bit.
“Nothing!” She shouted, “This is girl stuff, keep out of it!”
“Geeze, OK.” Jaune said, reeling back from the sudden outburst.
“What does that mean?” Ren asked, confused.
“I don’t know,” Jaune answered, “but I grew up with seven sisters. When they say ‘girl stuff’ I know to stay out of it.”
Ruby and Nora scooted back to the farthest end of the shelter. They didn’t have much distance between themselves and the boys, but it was enough for a private conversation.
“So what are we going to do?” Ruby whispered. She shifted a little in her spot. She wasn’t at her limit just yet, but all this talk about it wasn’t helping. Nor was all of the rain outside.
“The way I see it,” Nora returned, in a far more conversational voice- or maybe that was just how she whispered, “either we go out there and get out clothes soaked, or stay in here and get out clothes soaked.”
“Not funny, Nora!” Ruby shouted back, “This is serious.”
“I am serious. We can’t use any space under the tarp with Jaune right there. We can’t go outside with all this rain. Until the storm clears, all we can do is wait. And I don’t know how much more waiting I can take.”
“What if we, I don’t know, kneel down at the edge of the tent and go outside?” Ruby proposed.
“Dang, girl, can you aim that well?” Nora asked, impressed.
“No…” Ruby admitted, grimly.
“Well, me, either.”
Ruby groaned, “There has to be something we can do.”
“Let me know if you think of something.” Nora responded. Ruby became aware that the other girl was wiggling around where she sat as well. Then again, Nora normally wasn’t able to sit still, so it was tough to tell if this was from her need or just natural energy.
Ruby looked hurriedly around the campsite. Didn’t they have a bottle or a bowl or something they didn’t need? There were plenty, but they were all used for food or water. It was tempting, but no matter how bad things got, she would rather not contaminate anything they would be eating or drinking from. It wasn’t clear how long it would be before they got a chance to thoroughly clean their dishes. Even after that, she would always know that they were using a glass she peed in. Gross.
The hooded girl rested her hands on her lap and twitched a little. Her desperation was mounting much faster than anticipated. She turned to look outside again, but the rain was holding as strong as ever.
“Why does Ren have to make such good tea?” Nora spoke up. Her voice was trembling slightly.
Ruby looked over and saw just how bad things had gotten for the other girl. Nora was sitting on top of her legs with both hands on her lap. It looked like her skirt was wrinkled around her hand.
Ruby’s eyes fell on the teapot as the thought crossed her mind. She shook her head to drive those thoughts away. It probably wouldn’t contain everything. Besides that, she didn’t want to use something the whole group would be drinking out of later.
“Man, this is bad.” Ruby whispered.
“I know! It feels so bad. Like I’m holding a lake inside of me!” Nora complained, “Or maybe like a waterfall. Or a river. I guess it would have to be something that flows. Not that it’s flowing right now, though. So I guess it’s kind of like a river that’s been dammed up. You know, like when it rains a whole lot and all the water is pushing against the walls?”
“Nora.” Ruby tried to interrupt.
“Yeah, kind of like that.” Nora steamrolled over the other girl’s attempt to butt in, “It’s all just slish-sloshing around in there and trying to get out. I don’t know how much longer it’ll be before it starts to. I feel like any second it’s going to start leaking through the cracks.”
“Nora!” Ruby said, louder.
“Like a pipe about to burst. Oh, man, I don’t think I can remember the last time I had to go this bad… Actually, yeah I do. There was that time in the Emerald Forest. Oh! Or that history exam first semester. Seriously, I barely made it after that. But when I did, it felt sooo good and-“
“NORA!!” Ruby shouted.
Nora broke off from her rant and looked at the other girl with a happy smile, like nothing was wrong.
“Yes?” She asked.
“You’re really not helping.” Ruby explained as she twisted her thighs together, wiggling back and forth. She pressed down slightly with her hands as she felt a brief spike in pressure.
“Oh, sorry. I was just trying to distract myself from how badly I need to go. I figured that talking is normally a good distraction. And I thought what should I talk about? Well, what’s in the front of my mind? That’s how badly I have to pee, so I just thought-“
Ruby inhaled sharply and pushed a hand against her stomach, “Well maybe you can find another way to distract yourself?”
“Sure!” Nora happily agreed.
The orange-haired girl looked around the shelter, humming happily as she continued to wiggle on the spot. She paused with one last hum as she focused in on something across the tent. A wide smile appeared on her face.
Curious, Ruby followed her gaze to see what had her attention.
On the other side of the tent, the boys were no longer contemplating the map and seemed to be settling down for the night. Jaune was sitting atop his bedroll, restlessly shifting around.
The hooded girl then found the sight Nora must have been fascinated with. Ren was settling down for the night and had removed his damp jacket and shirt.
This didn’t interest Ruby all that much. What was so special about boys without shirts? She’d been around Sun enough to know boys didn’t have much to hide.
Ruby looked outside again. The rain hadn’t slowed down at all. Her mind frantically raced, taking stock of the things she had in her pack. Maybe her water bottle? No way, that would be disgusting.
There was the shuffle of a sleeping bag. Ruby looked over to see Ren lying in his bedroll, turned away from the girls.
Jaune sighed deeply and rolled to his feet.
“I’ve got to take care of something. I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.” He said. He sounded distracted.
He grabbed his sword and shield and crawled out from under the tarp, quickly disappearing into the rain.
Ruby and Nora exchanged a glance.
Nora shrugged, “Probably needs to use the bathroom.” She suggested.
Ruby shrugged back. She didn’t have the time or energy to think about that right now. If he got into trouble, Jaune could yell loud enough to get their attention.
“So, how you holding up, Ruby?” Nora asked once Jaune was gone.
Ruby pressed her hands into her lap, “Not too good. This rain needs to let up soon, or I’m going to be in trouble.”
“Same here.” Nora confided.
There was a pause. “Doesn’t it feel kind of good, though?” Nora added.
“What?” Ruby asked, looking over.
The orange-haired huntress was blushing slightly. She was fidgeting more than a little and rubbing her thighs together. While it was subtle earlier, it was now abundantly clear that Nora was grabbing down between her legs.
“Well, I mean,” She explained, “doesn’t it feel kind of good to hold it all in? Like, it tingles…”
“No, not really…” Ruby muttered.
“Really? I guess it’s just me, then.” Nora shrugged happily.
Ruby was about to ask a follow-up, but was cut short before she could think of anything. Another wave of pressure suddenly hit her. The huntress shuddered and pushed her hands deeper into her lap. The wave passed and she managed to keep control for now, but it was clear that her options were running out.
“You know,” Nora began, “with Jaune away, we could just, you know, go over to the edge of the tarp and let it go…”
“What?” Ruby practically shouted in surprise, “But Ren’s still here, what if he looks?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Ren would never do that.” Nora dismissed with a wave of her free hand. “No matter how bad you want him to.” She added quietly.
“Wait, what?”
The thought of finally letting it out was tempting, but the idea of someone catching her in such a compromising position was too much. Ruby shuddered as the pressure continued to build. Whatever the solution, she would need to come up with it quickly.
“I still don’t think I can do that.” Ruby said, panic rising in her voice.
“Well then, I guess we just have to try and wait out the rain. Just keep holding it in while all this water drips and drops from the sky.”
“Still not helping.” Ruby muttered, biting her lip. She slowly let a hand drift under her combat skirt.
“Are you sure you’re not ready to go here?” Nora asked, observing this display. “There’s enough space for us to squat without getting anything wet.”
“I’m not comfortable going out in the open. Especially with a boy right there.”
“That’s fair.” Nora agreed.
“If you’re comfortable with that, it’s fine. I won’t stop you.” Ruby offered. She hated to think Nora was putting herself through this torture on her account.
“Oh, no,” Nora said with another dismissive wave, “I’ll be fine. If you’re going to wait, I’m going to wait. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”
“That’s nice, but you really don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, but it’s what friends do.” Nora said joyfully.
“Is it?” Ruby asked quietly. That was certainly not something any of her friends did.
Just then, Nora let out a surprised yelp.
Ruby looked over to her friend. The orange-haired girl was now sitting straight up, the blush growing on her face.
“Are you ok?” Ruby asked frantically.
“Y-yeah…” Nora stuttered, “I think I just let a little bit out is all…”
“Oh, no... Look, if you want to go right now, I won’t look. I’m not going to blame you.”
There was a short pause as Nora looked up in concentration. She let out a soft moan and her shoulder relaxed. Her hands stayed fixed in place with her grip as strong as ever.
“Don’t worry, it’s all under control.” She said, her face growing even redder.
“Are you sure?”
“Mm-hmm.” Nora hummed happily. Her eyes floated upward, losing focus.
Ruby pushed down with the hand under her skirt. Maybe Nora had it all under control, but she sure didn’t.
It wasn’t too much longer before things took a turn for the worse.
Ruby was sitting in place, quivering as she listened for the slightest break in the rain. Soon enough, she felt a small spurt leak into her underwear. It was forceful enough for the liquid to splash against the hand under her skirt.
She froze in place, panic rising even more. The huntress pressed her hand down even harder, but this effort proved to be in vain. Seconds later, another spurt leaked out, followed by another.
One more leak proved to be enough warning for the young huntress.
“I can’t wait anymore!” Ruby declared to no one in particular as she lunged for the edge of the shelter.
In her rush, Ruby didn’t realize her legs had fallen asleep.
She started to stand up, only to fall forward. Ruby threw her hands down and caught herself, landing on her knees. This was the final nail in the coffin.
As she landed, Ruby felt the leak begin. She shot straight up, but was still unable to get to her feet. She was now kneeling in the dirt, just clear of her bedroll.
The girl in the red cape felt a steady stream making its way out of her. She threw her hands into her lap, trying to stem the tides. She wrinkled her combat skirt against herself as she grabbed down. Alas, this proved to be too little, too late.
Slowly, the steam picked up power until Ruby was completely peeing herself. A darkened spot began to grow on her skirt where she continued to fruitlessly hold. Golden drops began to wind their way down her legs and soak into her leggings.
Ruby sat there, paralyzed in disbelief. Was this really happening to her? Was she really wetting herself right now?
The wetness continued to spread down her legs, quickly soaking through the entirety of her stockings, and coming to rest in the dirt around her knees. A yellow-tinted pool began to slowly grow beneath the young huntress.
She grunted sadly, still pushing her hands into her crotch to try and cut off the flow, despite the fact that the damage had already been done. Ruby could feel the fluids fill her palms and drip out between her fingers.
The huntress sat there, eyes watering, as she continued to void herself into her clothes. She wasn’t sure how much time passed. It may as well have been the rest of her life for how she felt.
However long it took, the well eventually ran dry. It took a moment before Ruby noticed there was nothing more flowing into her hands.
She gasped as she looked down at herself. It was at this moment that Ruby became thankful she wore dark colored clothing. Aside from the sheen on her exposed thighs, there was not much obvious evidence of her accident. She removed her hands to discover a slightly darkened patch on the front of her skirt, but it was barely noticeable. Her leggings weren’t much different, either. Certainly, her panties didn’t fare well, but Ruby wasn’t about to check that right there.
Ruby lowered herself to a sitting position on her heels. Immediately, she began to think about what she would do about the mess. Sure, she had a spare outfit, but how long would it be before they found a place to wash their clothes?
Ruby was snapped out of this train of thought by a voice from right next to her.
“Are you alright?” Nora asked.
Ruby jumped when she heard this. In all the excitement, she had forgotten anyone else was there.
She looked over to see Nora leaning over with a concerned look on her face. She was still blushing. Nora was using one hand to steady herself; the other was still firmly planted between her legs.
“Yeah…” Ruby said with a sniff. She was doing her best to fight back tears. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just can’t believe that happened…”
The sudden awareness of her audience only made the feelings even worse. Here she was, Ruby Rose, a huntress, a girl out on her own adventure, and she just wet herself in front of her teammate. This was starting to feel a little too familiar. Wasn’t she supposed to be done with this kind of stuff?
Ruby felt a hand against hers, then another. Nora clasped Ruby’s hand in her own and lifted them to her chest.
“How, don’t worry about it.” Nora said softly with a smile.
Nora scooted in closer and sat down next to Ruby, her legs splayed outward.
“It’s ok.” She added.
“Yeah, I know,” Ruby responded somberly, “I just thought I would be through with accidents like this by now… And what am I going to do about this?” She fluttered her wet skirt for emphasis.
“It’s fine.” Nora reassured, “I’ve got a plan.”
The orange-haired huntress let go of Ruby’s hand and leaned back.
“Nora, what are you doing?”
Nora’s face contorted in concentration for a split second before moving to a more relaxed expression. Her eyes started to water slightly as they drifted upward. A large, open-mouthed grin overtook Nora’s face as she let out a happy sigh.
Ruby looked over in shock as a hissing sound filled the air.
She looked down to see Nora lift her skirt slightly, leaving the bottom of her white panties barely visible. What was much more visible was the nearly clear steam pouring out of those panties. The stream was very powerful; it was almost as if the now-darkened cloth of the underwear wasn’t even there. As it hit the ground, some of the liquid splashed back to cover Nora’s thighs.
A puddle began to grow under the energetic huntress, quickly spreading under her legs. Soon enough, that puddle grew to join with Ruby’s own.
Ruby looked over the other girl awkwardly. She really didn’t know what to make of this situation. Sure, she had seen other girls have accidents before, and she had been with her sister in the woods more than once when an emergency hit them. This, however, was something completely new.
All the while, Nora’s expression remained frozen in sheer bliss. Her face had grown completely red.
After an awkwardly long time, the hissing subsided and Nora let out a pleased sigh.
“Oh, gosh, that felt so good.” She moaned.
“You didn’t have to do that for me, you know…” Ruby said awkwardly, feeling her own cheeks growing red.
“Oh, no, that wasn’t the reason.” Nora said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, “I just had to go so bad. I wasn’t going to make it two steps.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Still, it’s good that you didn’t have an accident alone, right?”
“Sure, I guess…”
The two girls silently looked at each other for a moment. Nora was smiling as though everything was normal. Ruby noticed that she was shifting around on the spot. She figured it was the discomfort of being in wet clothes.
“So now what?” Ruby asked awkwardly.
“Now this!” Nora shouted as she shot to her feet, quickly tossing off her jacket.
She grabbed Ruby’s hands and pulled her along as she leaped out from under the tarp.
Both girls soon found themselves standing in the pouring rain. Once they were securely out of the shelter, Nora let go of Ruby’s hands and twirled off a little further.
Ruby quickly covered her head with her cape.
“What are you doing?” She yelled over the downpour.
“Getting clean!” Nora shouted back, “I love dancing in the rain! And it’s kind of like a shower, right?”
“I mean, not really…”
Ruby tried to crawl back out of the rain.
“Come on!” Nora shouted. She skipped over and grabbed Ruby before she could retreat. The energetic girl happily spun them both around and forced Ruby out into the rain. Ruby always forgot how strong the smaller girl really was.
Nora let go and continued to skip and twirl happily in the rain. Ruby stood there for a moment, taking in the absurdity of the last few minutes. At least now she had an excuse for why her clothes were wet. Maybe this would wash them out a little.
Once she felt her clothes had completely soaked through, Ruby walked back under the tarp. Nora bounded happily after.
“There. Isn’t that much better?” Nora asked cheerily.
“A little.” Ruby admitted. She looked at her sleeves. They were practically see-through. Ruby was really thankful she didn’t wear the same colors on other parts of her outfit.
“But what do we do now?” She asked, “We can’t sleep in our clothes when they’re this soaked.”
Nora held up a finger, “Excuse me, I have to take care of something.”
Nora skipped over to the other side of the tarp where Ren was sleeping. She threw herself on top of him and embraced the sleeping huntsman.
Ren shot up with a startled shout, jumping up frantically before looking over at the girl now wrapped around him. He settled down and placed a hand on Nora’s arm.
“Nora, why are you wet?” He asked as though this weren’t the first time he had to ask that.
“Because, silly, you know I love dancing in the rain!”
“Let me guess: you forgot to bring a towel?”
“What?” Nora asked with a laugh, “No, of course not… Well, actually, yes.”
Ren sighed, “There’s one in my bag. Go ahead and use it.”
“Thanks, Ren!” Nora shouted. She hugged the boy tight before jumping to her feet.
“Good night, Nora.” He added, rolling over.
“Night, Ren~!” Nora sang.
Nora grabbed Ren’s bag and started rifling through it. It always astounded Ruby just how close those two were. She wasn’t sure she’d be comfortable with her regular teammates rifling through her personal belongings like that.
Soon enough, the energetic young huntress pulled a towel out of the bag and held it up triumphantly. She hastily tossed everything backed into Ren’s bag and closed it up.
Nora quickly dried herself off before tossing the towel to Ruby.
Ruby dried off her exposed skin. She pulled down her stockings to clean off her legs. She slowly pressed the towel against her clothes to try and make some progress in drying them, but to little effect.
When Ruby reached over to hand the towel back to Nora, she was already undoing the belt around her skirt. She tossed her shirt off and proceeded to dry herself more thoroughly.
Ruby looked cautiously around the sides of their shelter. Ren was turned away and it looked like he was asleep. There was no sign of Jaune anywhere.
The two girls quickly changed out of their wet clothes and into clean outfits. They laid out their damp clothes on top of their bags to dry.
“Well, that was… something…” Ruby said, settling down into her sleeping bag.
“Yeah.” Nora agreed. “That got me kind of wound up. It may take some time before I can get to sleep… By the way, you should maybe ignore any sounds coming from my sleeping bag tonight.”
“Same as every night got it.” Ruby affirmed.
“We’re not going to tell the boys about what happened, are we?” Ruby asked.
“I don’t see why we would.”
“Also, let’s try not to let that happen again, ok?” Ruby added.
“Really? I thought it was kind of fun.”
“Not enough fun to do it again.”
“So what are you thinking?” Nora asked, growing excited, “Like we set up a code word or something? So if it ever gets too bad for you, you could just say 'squid cakes' and I'll make a distraction while you sneak off. And if I’m ever in trouble, you could-“
“Not what I meant.” Ruby interrupted, “I more just meant keep each other honest. You know, look out for each other and make sure we don’t push ourselves this far again.”
“Oh, sure, that makes sense.” Nora agreed.
Soon enough, Jaune returned to camp. He was breathing heavily and dripping wet.
“Oh, hey girls… You’re still up.” He said, sounding surprised, “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, fine.” Ruby said.
“Yup!” Nora shouted, “Totally fine, absolutely nothing wrong here. Nothing at all!”
“Ok. Good.” Jaune sighed.
His eyes settled on the still dripping clothes in the middle of the shelter.
“What happened to your clothes?” Jaune asked.
“Well…” Ruby began.
“You know how I roll around in my sleep?” Nora jumped in, “Well, I went to sleep earlier, and I guess I accidentally grabbed Ruby and, like, suplexed her out into the rain.”
“Yeah, that’s what happened.” Ruby agreed, a little too eagerly.
“Ok, sure, that makes sense.” Jaune said, much to Ruby’s surprise.
“Well, I’m going to get some rest. Good night, girls.” He said. Jaune pulled his bag closer and began to remove his hoodie. “Would you mind turning around?” He asked.
“Right!” Ruby shouted, rolling over and pulling up the cover of her sleeping bag.
Soon, everything was quiet except for the rain raging outside.
Ruby was starting to drift off to sleep when she was interrupted by a harshly whispered “hey!” from next to her.
“What?” She asked sleepily.
“Do you think we should pick up something in the next town?” Nora asked, “Like a jug or something, so that if this happens again…”
“You’re thinking too much about this.” Ruby responded, “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Right, right.” Nora answered.
“Good night.” Nora added.
“Good night. And Nora?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” |
"Oxygen!" I yelled, right before the timer hit zero. My answer was correct, of course, and it secured me the 16th point needed for an automatic victory. Although I had barely lost the first slower round, I was in good shape to win first place. The final tiebreaker round was Blitz, and I was lightyears ahead of all the competitors in my state whom I knew, Arya my opponent included, when it came to the faster games. The previous year had been even easier; the game designers hadn't introduced the slowest format yet, so I had coasted in on the back of years worth of reading textbooks for fun, and knocked out the previous winner before he even reached point 5.
The judge was beginning to explain the final format to the audience, mostly parents and kids who hadn't made it to the final rounds. I couldn't wait for the final round to begin; the trophy felt just inches away. My bladder was feeling a similar urgency. My whole life I had a neurological disorder that thankfully caused few effects in me, but one of the few was urinary urge incontinence. Fortunately, the doctor had concluded that even that was curable. Along with physical therapy, he put me on a strict schedule of times for drinking and voiding. At 7:00 AM every day I used the bathroom, by 7:30 I was to have drunk two cups of liquid, and so on throughout the day. The problem at hand was that in all the hustle I had missed my two morning toilet breaks, and I could feel the difference. Upon remembering my mistake, I signed obscenities under the table, angry with myself but not wanting to draw attention.
I looked up at the judge, impatient. He was just finishing, and the final round was about to begin. I looked around the room. My mom was in the far left back, taking a break from her intensive research position to watch me perform. Father was with relatives, on a trip planned long before the game schedule was announced. It was comforting to have her support, but it was for myself that I competed, for my own self-respect, not for her or for the audience.
After Arya and I confirmed we were ready, the questions began. "Potassium" "Archimedes" "Naples" "119" ... The answers flew out of our mouths like iron fillings attracted to a 1 Tesla magnet. That is, until question number 23: "What are the primary ingredients to gunpowder?" I knew I had learned it at some point, from a book arguing the dubious thesis that Chinese merchants caused the Renaissance, but under the effects of adrenaline, I couldn't recall any ingredients besides saltpeter. Arya was sitting in equally ignorant silence. I was up thirteen points to nine, so I didn't need to be worried, but every question did matter.
In the pause I realized I had leaked a little into my formerly pristine pad. That was indeed its purpose, but I was nevertheless disappointed in myself. Hoping the cause wasn't clear, I crossed my legs and sat up straight. In a few seconds the question would have been skipped, but a sudden ding and Arya's confident "Saltpeter, Charcoal, and Sulfur" told me I had missed the question. Arya was only behind me by three questions now, I'd have to finish her off soon or be in danger of losing. The next showed on the screen immediately - I straightened out and leaned forward to look a little closer.
That was a mistake. The movement jostled my bladder, and the floodgates opened. All the liquid I had drunk from night to morning poured out non-stop into my pad, against all the strength I could deploy. My embarrassment was overcome by relief for a brief moment, but as the seconds and tablespoons flowed past, I realized my pad was about to become saturated. Right as the urine began to overflow, seeping into my underwear and onto my legs, I wrested back control. My underwear was soaked, but as far as I could tell visible wetness hadn't yet reached the outside.
Then I remembered the competition. I raised my head and saw question 29 on the screen: "What infinitely-extending triangle contains the binomial coefficients?" I knew this answer, and reached out for the bell. Din-Ding! A split second separated the rings, but it was Arya's face that appeared on the screen, declaring her, after her correct answer, to be the champion. It was my fault, I knew. I got distracted over something inconsequential, I could have tried harder to leave Arya behind in the first half, I broke the rules that would have kept me dry. Compared to my sorry showing, Arya deserved the win.
The rest of the event flowed smoothly; I congratulated Arya on her victory, left the stage quickly to change, then stayed for the closing ceremony and to receive my 2nd place trophy. My mother was gone, too busy to watch me get recognition for an unexceptional result. She wouldn't speak harshly to me or get angry, but I could always tell when she was disappointed, and didn't look forward to dinner. I drove home, took my afternoon toilet break, and spent the rest of the day in a depressed daze, not even able to read the library books I had picked out earlier. Instead I replayed the morning events and questions in my head, finding every situation where I could have left to pee, every question I could have answered correctly or quicker.
That Saturday felt like the worst day in my life, notwithstanding outward appearances. In retrospect, I can only thank God that the day on which my powers manifested came later.
Edited October 13, 2017 by idraita
(see edit history) |
I entered into the world of capes a few weeks later, a short enough time that the incident remained sharp in my memory. It was Thursday near noon, and I was not in school. Instead I was at home, sitting naked in a draining bathtub. Beside the tub was a stack of books, one of which I was reading to keep myself busy while I trained my power. I had faked a sickness, as I didn't want to deal with the social aftermath of the previous schoolday without a crapload of thought. Instead I was taking a day off to relax, but also frantically trying to get the supernatural aftermath under control. I was in a bit of a divided mood, and I knew it.
The doorbell rang, and my little brother Jack answered the door. My bedroom and adjoining bath were above our house's entrance, so I could hear the conversation clearly.
A man's voice. "Good morning. I assume you are Master Venter. Are your parents at home, or your sister?"
"Who are you and why should I tell you?" A surge of pride that Jack had listened to my safety instructions rose. It wasn't easy to know when he'd agree to be taught.
"I'm with the government. I'm here to see your sister Nina. Do you know where she is?"
"Wow, that's awesomecool! Nina's upstairs taking a bath. She said I shouldn't bother her, but who cares about that anyways? Come on!"
Tension sprang into my body, and my hands curled into fists, not just at the brat. How could I deal with him to not get exposed as a parahuman? I could use my power, but assault of a police officer with a parahuman power would just catalyze my trouble to a whole new level. So I steeled myself for the imminent encounter and waited.
Soon there was a knock on the bathroom door. It was the police officer.
"Hello. I have been led to believe that one Nina Venter is present?"
"Yes, that's me!" I put on the best sweet innocent voice I knew. Hopefully that would improve his first impression.
"You may call me Officer Adams. I would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience." His voice was somehow deep without being low pitch. I started brainstorming again. I could use my towel as a rope to climb out the window and run away, leaving him thinking I was simply taking a long time with my bath. I'd seen that trick played in a couple of movies. If I did, where would I go? To a friend's place? None of them would shelter me from the authorities, though. Also, I'd be running down the street without clothes, and people would notice. Apparently escape was impossible, too. Very well, I'd have to talk to Adams - he seemed nice enough.
"Adams? I'm perfectly comfortable in here, I can just stay behind the curtain," I shouted.
I had decided to stay in the bath, mostly so I could keep up my exercise, but with the side benefit of not having to meet Adams' eyes.
I saw the hinge glide open, but his footsteps were hardly audible. He sat down on the toilet lid.
"All right then, Miss Venter. Thank you for the invitation. I'll be just a few minutes. I wonder if you know why I'm here?"
I did not know, but it was a fair guess that Angie and Brenda had reported me for what had happened yesterday. I didn't think it was their style, though. They stood to lose if I told the authorities about how they were blackmailing me, and I was sure they were just going to take their revenge by telling the whole school about my diaper situation. It was the main reason I didn't want to go to school, having to parade myself through the gazes of my friends and classmates, knowing they'd be thinking of me as immature and disgusting. There was no preventing that information from getting out now, but I still had my dignity as far as Adams was concerned, and I was determined to keep it.
It was a few seconds before I responded, but Adams seemed content to sit. "No, sir," I finally answered. "I'd prefer if you tell me first, sir." My own words echoed strangely off the shower curtain, but I hoped my respect showed through. I had heard enough stories to be careful even around nice policemen like Adams.
"No need for the formality, Miss Venter. I'm happy to be able to relieve your worries. I am from the PRT, and would like to invite you to join the Wards."
I was stunned. A number of thoughts fought to reach my consideration first, but I stammered out "A second, please, si-Adams."
First, how did he know I had powers? I thought back to the events of yesterday afternoon. Full of rage, feeling like all my options were gone, I had tackled Brenda to the ground. It shouldn't have worked, but I suppose I had caught her by surprise as much as myself. I had read about fighting techniques, but hadn't ever tried them out.
Angie had run off some time in my struggle with Brenda. I supposed she was afraid I'd snapped and gone murderous, and to be honest I wasn't totally sure she wasn't half-right. I had been straddling her tight to the ground, with no real purpose in my head besides anger, when the physical stress broke my bladder open, and my power activated. My stream had turned into a jet, tearing a hole through my underwear and pouring onto Brenda's body. It had lasted half a second until, my mind racing, I had found and flipped a mental switch, and the jet ceased as suddenly as it had started. My face had gone cherry-red. I had jumped off her and run straight home, tears and urine mingling.
Maybe I was wrong, but I didn't think the amount of pee I had left would look abnormal enough to investigate, at least after a lot of it must have soaked into Brenda's clothes. The PRT's presence at all was the first thing I had to brainstorm.
The second line of thought was even more difficult to work through. Did I want to join the Wards, as Adams had invited me to do? True, that was the standard, official, way of doing good as a kid with powers, but it would take up so much of the time I had allocated to extracurriculars and projects. I wanted to succeed in helping people with my real talents, my intelligence and curiosity, not some dishonorable trick of nature that helps me knock people out and ruin their lives permanently by throwing them in prison.
On that note, I couldn't imagine introducing myself to the other wards here: "Hi, Steadfast! I'm Nina and I pee really fast!" It was an absurd scenario. Thinking about how I'd fight only strengthened the mental barrier. Could I really just stand there using my power with all my peers in sight? No way! If I was going to hero at all, I'd have to do it independently and privately. How would I break my decision to Adams, though? I didn't want to disappoint him.
The third mental note was of worry. If they knew about yesterday's incident, might they not arrest me for assault with a parahuman power? The Wards might be the only way for me to avoid prosecution. Taking all these thoughts into consideration, I had only one real option.
I stalled. "I can't just accept on the spot, you know? I'm sure there must be tons of paperwork and rules and things to learn. Why don't you just mail me the documents so I can read them through?" I poked my hand out from behind the plastic curtain, pointing at the stack of books I had brought. "Believe me, I can read through anything."
"I do believe you," he responded. "I just want to make sure you know you have a clear path to the Wards if you decide to give us a chance. And just being frank, we want to make sure you don't decide to do anything rash with your newly gained powers. We will be on the lookout for the effects of Stranger powers, so please be careful. We don't think it's necessary to notify parents and associates at this point, but that is on the table if things don't go well."
Now that was one consequence I certainly wouldn't care for. But why did he reference Stranger powers? That category of power was known for hiding and otherwise making subterfuge easier. If anything, my power would draw attention to me, not help me hide. As nice as Adams was, it was too hard to think clearly in the presence of a PRT officer, and I had other things to deal with as well.
We talked a little more, but eventually I got him to leave, assuring him that I'd pick up a package they'd send to school, and that I wasn't planning on murdering anyone soon. He seemed oddly uninterested in the specifics of my power; perhaps he had bad experiences prying into powers in the past? Or maybe the PRT already thought they knew how my power worked? That would be pretty arrogant of them, considering I had been experimenting for a day to very slow progress.
The experimentation itself was honestly quite fun - it was the first time I ever got to deal with an unexplained phenomenon, and I could theorize and test hypotheses like Newton and the rest. Next up: one of my first tests was seeing how long I could keep the flow going. But was my limit the volume, or time, or maybe even something to do with my hydration levels? Two tests popped into my mind, and the work began anew. |
The continuation of
...
**— Kelli, Present day — **
Damn that map. Damn this corner. Damn her weak bladder. She could feel herself about to lose control AGAIN. She needed to move - now. As a wave of urgency hit her she squeezed her legs tighter and bent halfway over to keep herself in control. It worked, but just barely. There was no flood, but she did feel a little more pee seep out into her already damp panties.
“Stand .. Up .. Straight. Now.”
She heard his stern words drifting from across the room. There was no mistaking an order.
“Sir, might I…” She started to stammer.
“Quiet. You know you do not speak in the corner unless spoken to first.”
Why had she let herself lose control the other day? Could she really not have waited just a few minutes longer to get to the potty? She had known she was in big trouble as soon as she had seen the incredulous yet very upset seen the look on his face. Damn the map, why was it always the little details that tripped her up? She wanted to feel her pants again to know if he might see, but she didn’t dare move her hands. She could feel his eyes drilling into the back of her neck. She always felt like that when she was in the corner and he was in the same room. She knew he didn’t constantly watch her while in the corner… or did he?
She hated not knowing the time. Was it 5 more minutes? 10 more? Perhaps she could manage 5… but… suddenly she felt a stab of pain as her muscles finally gave out. Slowly, and despite her best efforts, the stream started. 1… 2 seconds… she couldn’t stop it. 3… 4 seconds… she felt her panties growing warm and the back of her neck heating up. Was he watching, did he know what was happening inside her pants right now? She imagined her face was a certain shade of crimson and was grateful it was buried in the corner and hopefully for now only she knew of her shame. 5… 6 seconds…
“Young lady…” his voice suddenly called out.
**—2 days earlier—****— James—**
He watched her lock the door in the rearview mirror. He reached over and opened her door for her as she slid into the seat next to him and smiled. He couldn’t help but see something behind that smile though. What was it that was on her mind. What was she so worried about?
“Ready, sweetie?”
“Yes, I’ve been looking forward to today for the past month, lets get this show on the road.
“I’m sorry for making us late.”
“It’s ok dear, if we don’t run into any cops I’ll just make up for it on the drive down.”
And they were off. After getting out of local traffic and onto the interstate he took his right hand off the wheel and placed it on her leg. It wasn’t all unusual for him to drive with his hand on her leg but today he swore she flinched for some reason. He wondered again about this morning and if she had truly been able to make it to the potty without losing control. He started to rub her leg slowly and then carefully started to slide his hand deeper in between her legs. Was that a wet spot he felt or his imagination? Had Kelli truly peed her pants this morning?
Suddenly Kelli’s fingers were interweaving with his and his hand was being squeezed tightly.
“Thank you for today, hon, it means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome, dear. You deserve it.”
He squeezed her hand in return but was disappointed he hadn’t been able to go just a little further and confirm his suspicions. He couldn’t do it now that they were holding hands without making it totally obvious what he was up to, and he didn’t want to do that. So for now he would bide his time and wait. Perhaps Kelli would fall asleep as she often did on road trips and he’d have another opportunity to check. He could hope.
“Dear, please hand me a water bottle and get one for yourself as well.”
He took the water bottle that she offered him and took a sip before placing it in the center console. He saw her take a few swigs from her own. If things went well he’d likely see her squirming in her seat before they arrived. Car trips were one of the few times he didn’t even need an excuse to make her wait. She knew he preferred to drive straight thru and she would sit there and squirm silently, only rarely asking him if it became a true emergency. One of the many things he loved about her.
“Why don’t you finish your water then you can take a nap. You looked tired this morning when I got you up.”
“Thanks, hon. I wouldn’t mind a little extra sleep.”
He watched her finish her water over the next few minutes. She then squeezed his hand tightly and closed her eyes. It couldn’t have been more than five or ten minutes before he heard the steady even breathing that he knew meant she was soundly asleep. He slowly untangled his fingers from hers and gently pushed her hand to the side as he once again rested his hand on her leg where it had originally started earlier.
This was the moment of truth. He very slowly slid his hand towards her crotch. There was no mistaking it this time. His hand was now wet. The inside leg of her jeans was wet. He slid he hand as far up as he could without waking her. Unsurprisingly her crotch was wet also. He felt some movement in his own crotch area. He smiled at his girls first real accident in their relationship, but what would she think if she knew he got pleasure from this? If she knew that her almost disaster this morning in the living room was actually a major turn on for him. Would she run away like the other girls had?
He let his hand rest on the inside of her damp pants leg for a few minutes longer before slowly sliding it back to the top of her leg which unfortunately was still quite dry.
**—Kelli—**
Kelli woke up suddenly and yawned. She needed to pee quite badly. Where was she? Ah, yes… the trip to Kings Island. She shifted back and forth in her seat then decided to try crossing her legs. The OJ from this morning was almost certainly resting in her bladder now and the bottle of water from earlier was almost certainly on it’s way. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep but she hoped they were close as she squeezed her legs together tightly.
“Thanks for the nap, babe. Where are we?”
“Getting close. I’d say another 30 minutes or so and we’ll be to the park.”
“Good, I can hardly wait.” It was the truth in so many ways.
She hoped he would only hear her excitement about the day ahead and not the tone of concern in her voice… 30 minutes wasn’t that long but she was already feeling full - and her muscles were worn out from the ordeal she’d put them thru this morning. She’d realized she was going to have to be careful not to get herself into trouble today. She hoped restrooms would be plentiful and that permission would be granted quickly.
She discretely slid her right hand against the inside of her leg and smiled as she realized her pants were almost dry now. She breathed a sigh of relief. James would never find out about her small accident this morning now. Everything was going to be ok.
/////
Everything was NOT ok. In the past 10 minutes Kelli’s need had gone from bad to worse. From discomfort to painfully full. She was not used to things escalating this quickly and was starting to worry that she wouldn’t make it all the way to the park. She could barely sit still and was constantly scissoring her legs in and out… that’s when she wasn’t crossing and uncrossing them. She would have been holding herself if it wasn’t for James setting right beside her. He’d even noticed and asked her if she was ok. She’d just told him she was getting tired of sitting and anxious to arrive and get the day started.
She was actually debating mentioning the true depth of her need to James for the very first time in their relationship. As the minutes went by she became more and more certain she couldn’t wait. Even after they arrived they would have to find a parking spot… then walk… or wait for a shuttle… were there even bathrooms near the entrance? She was practically floating and there were far too many unknowns and unanswered questions. She glanced over at the instrument cluster… over a half tank of gas… she glanced down to see a half full water still setting in the center console. So he had plenty to drink and plenty of gas.
What possible excuse could she have to stop other than her achingly full bladder? Suddenly she saw the sign for a rest area. 5 miles. Oh my goodness. Here was her salvation, but could she work up the courage to ask him to stop? She opened her mouth then closed it. To stop for a pee break only 20 minutes away from the park sounded like something James’s 3 year old niece might ask for, not his 19 year old girlfriend. Her brain was running a mile a minute. 2 miles. Her bladder was starting to twinge like it would when she walked into a potty and it knew she would be going soon. It was starting to relax. That was a very bad sign. 1 mile.
“Sir”
“Yes, dear?”
“Would… Do you…” She trailed off unsure of what to say.
“Dear?”
The exit ramp was just ahead but she couldn’t work up the courage to tell him just how bad she had to go. She was going to have to find some way to manage. She would. Her heart sank. The ramp was *right there* but they remained in the same lane. She must wait. She had to. But she feared she couldn’t. Suddenly at the last possible moment James tugged the wheel slightly to the right and the car effortlessly jumped off the interstate onto the exit ramp. The motion caught Kelli off completely guard and a spurt of pee jumped from her bladder into her panties. Were they stopping?
“Sir, are we stopping?”
She prayed the answer was yes, but she would still need to work up the courage to ask for the little girls room - knowing how close they were to the park.
“We are. I had a sudden craving for a Mountain Dew if you can believe that.”
That was so like James. She laughed, and immediately regretted it as a larger spurt of pee soaked into her panties. She’d been so silly to think she might possibly be able to wait until the park. She was barely keeping it together now. James pulled the car to a stop near the vending area.
“Would you like anything, dear?”
“No, I’m ok. Would you mind if I got out and stretched my legs a bit though?”
“Certainly”
She opened her door then tried to stand and froze. It was even worse than she had thought. Suddenly she was afraid if she even stood she might pee herself then and there. She very slowly inched her way from sitting to standing all the while keeping the tightest leash on her bladder. She was pretty sure the bottle of water was in there now. Suddenly she bent over as another spasm rocked her bladder and another surge of pee escaped into her panties.
She barely managed to stand again as James walked back to the car.
“I thought you were going to stretch your legs, dear?”
“I was. I mean I am.” She stammered.
“Actually… … would you mind if I popped into the little girls room quickly, Sir?”
She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she finished the question. She loved James’s being in control of their relationship. It was so freeing to trust his direction and guidance and not struggle over decisions herself. She knew that if his answer was no the entire day was likely to be ruined soon, but perhaps his answer would be yes. It was liberating just to know it was no longer her decision. Whatever he decided is how it would be - and she would find a way to live with it, regardless of the answer. She suddenly realized he was looking at her quizzically.
“You know we’re only 15 minutes away from the park, dear?”
“I just thought…”
What was she thinking exactly, other than the fact that she was about to soak her pants even worse than this morning?
“…I just thought if I went now it would save us time at the park. We could get straight to the fun without having to worry about maybe finding me a potty”
She was proud of herself. She thought that sounded quite reasonable and grown up of her.
“Hmmmm…”
She suddenly realized he was looking at her across the top of the car… which meant he couldn’t anything see below her breasts. She plunged her right hand into her crotch and pushed as hard as she could and smiled as she felt the pressure ease up just a bit. Great, now if she could just leave her hand there she might actually be able to make it to the restroom.
She could imagine the wheels turning behind his eyes. If he knew her predicament *surely* he would send her potty without hesitation. Unfortunately, she was not about to inform him. She crossed her legs tightly and hoped his answer would be “yes”.
**— James —**
James was thinking hard. He could *clearly* see Kelli’s predicament and the last place he wanted to send her was the little girls room. Realizing he was staring at her across the roof of his car he quickly took the opportunity to adjust his shorts slightly so it would be harder for her to see how turned on he was right now. Not that she was looking. She obviously had other things on her mind. What if he said no? It was obvious she was at the end of her rope. He’d be very surprised if she made it another 5 miles down the road much less all the way to Kings Island. He wasn’t even sure she could make it to the toilets in her current state.
In the end it was his car that broke the tie. He’d just gotten it detailed and suddenly realized that the full contents of Kelli’s bladder spilling out into his leather seats and then onto the floor probably wasn’t quite as exciting as it sounded by the time you figured the potential cost of the cleanup.
“Yes, you may go potty.”
He saw the look of worry on her face slowly replaced by a smile… but almost as quickly the worry returned. Now he could see the gears turning in her mind. He imagined she was trying to figure out how to get between the car and the potties without disgracing herself and without making it obvious to the world she was about to wet her pants. She obviously needed a bit of motivation.
“We don’t have all day, dear”.
“Of course, sorry Sir”.
She turned away from him and slowly started walking toward the potties. He wasn’t sure how much attention most people paid to such things but it was obvious to him she was desperate. She was waddling almost like a duck would. And if he wasn’t mistaken she had her hand pressed between her legs holding herself as well. He watched his girlfriend with fascination. The closer she got to the building the faster she seemed to waddle until she disappeared inside and he could no longer see her. He took a seat in the car. The only thing to do now was wait.
**— Kelli —**
The last thing Kelli could do was wait. She was walking slowly with both legs squeezed together and with her hand pressed tight between her legs. At least James couldn’t see her holding herself. The closer she got to the building, the greater the frequency and strength of the painful spasms from her bladder.
Finally, she was in front of the glass entry doors. She yanked open the right door and stepped quickly into the small building - completely unprepared for the frigid cold AC that immediately hit her.
**— Kelli, Present day —**
Her pee was gushing out and she could not control it. 5… 6… 7 seconds… she could feel the hot pee running down the inside of her thigh.
“Young lady…” his voice suddenly called out.
She was startled. Did he know? Had he heard somehow. She had been unable to control herself yet her body responded to his voice. Her sphincter slammed shut briefly stopping the flow of urine. She tried to imagine a way out of this. Perhaps if corner time was over she could ask to go potty and change into her pajamas for bed. She could put her wet clothes in the wash and do laundry first thing tomorrow. She struggled to think of how she might keep him from finding out. She was so afraid of losing him. What would he think of her in wet pants again. The second time in only a few days.
“Yes, Sir?” she answered him weakly without moving.
“Your corner time is over now, dear. Tell me what have you learned.”
She swallowed hard and tried to will her face to return to a normal shade as she turned to face him. She unclasped her hands and slid them a bit further down her ass. Was that a wet spot she felt? God, was her entire butt wet?
“That big girls always find a way to hold it and do not pee their pants like little girls, Sir”.
Even as she was speaking her soggy, overly warm panties reminded her that she had not been much of a big girl lately; and the sharp pain in her bladder reminded her that things were about to get much much worse, and very soon.
“And next time what will you do, young lady?”
“I will hold it like a big girl, Sir”
Her shaking voice was about to give her her away. She tried to remain calm.
“Sir, may your girl please go potty and change into her pajamas before bedtime?”
“Yes, you may…”
She squeezed her legs together tightly and tried to figure out how she could possibly limp towards the bedroom without making it clear how insanely desperate she was. His next words sent a CHILL down her spine.
“… but first come snuggle with me on my lap for just a bit, dear.”
Edited October 13, 2017 by MrMakeherWait
(see edit history) |
This is my first omorashi fanfic based on the latest pirates of the carribean movie! Specifically Karina! I plan to do all the parts of the movie with some omorashi woven in! Please read and comment!
anyway, on with the story!
Warning: small messing sectIon included
Carina Smith was not having what some might call a perfect day.
As she stood up to her cell door, trying desperately not to fidget whilst picking the lock on her cell, and the old priest who was clearly ogling at her breasts stammering on with her last rights, finally got round to finishing.
“..Any last words, my dear?”
Carina inwardly sighed
“I confess that I am innocent of being a witch, and I confess that whilst we have been talking, I picked the lock to this cell.”
As she said this she flung open the door, knocking the priest cold with a hit to the head.
‘And you confess to needing the privy’
Her brain thought, but she pushed that unimportant thought aside in order to focus on her escape.
As she made it to outside the asylum, Carina stopped to take stock of her surroundings, bending slightly at the waist to help compensate for the growing pressure in her abdomen.
‘First things first, find a way to get off this island, next.. nghh!’
Her thoughts were cut short with a sharp stab of pain from her bladder.
‘N-next I need a privy, and soon!’
She crept down the bustling market street jumping out of her skin as she heard a cry rise up from behind her.
“There’s the witch! Get her!”
She glanced round, to see some of the guards from the asylum trying to jostle their way through the crowd to reach her.
‘Damn that’s all I need!’
Carina thought, glancing towards some kind of gathering around this new ‘bank’
The governor has just finished building.
The glanced away towards an alley, seeing that as her most viable escape option, she ducked into the passageway, and as the halfwit males ran past her, Crossed her legs and bent over.
“Ooh”
She moaned as a wave of pressure crashed over her, actually, thinking about waves or water at all made her shudder, so she swept on down the alley in order to try and find a way out, but pausing as she saw a shop with a familiar sign hanging over the door.
Carina ducked in, staring in amazement at the gigantic telescope taking centre-place of the cluttered astronomy store she had wandered into.
‘This is perfect!’ She thought, as she strode over to the telescope, wincing as she went.
“Hopefully there is some sort of privy here too!” She muttered
Raising her eye to the telescope, the calculated the relevant star paths necessary for her ‘quest’, even saying it in her head seemed silly, but to carina it was her life long passion, the only thing linking her to the elusive father figure that abandoned her as a child.
She stood there desperately trying to not bob down and throw off the telescope with her need to alleviate her pent up bladder when she heard an exclamation from what she assumed to be the store clerk.
“Sir I have adjusted your telescope several degrees north and should have mended the problems with your map, although you must begin again.”
She said, hoping this would calm the little man.
“You’re a witch!” He cried, pointing his shaking finger at her
“no I’m not, am I witch for sharing your love of the stars?”
Carina huffed in exasperation.
“Witch!” was the answer given, carina closed her eyes an winced as the pressure to her bladder increased even more, turning away as to cross her legs and try to subside the urge to hold herself in front of the backward simpleton.
“ I simply need to purchase a chronometer”
She said, picking up a pocket watch. And turning to face the shaking gun of the clerk, just as a pirate burst through the shop door.
“There’s a pirate! There’s a witch and a pirate in my shop!”
The clerk said, practically fainting.
“Well it’s your lucky day!” the pirate replied, clearly drunk
“ now have any of the four of you seen my bank?”
Just as the front of the shop was swept away by another building, the shockwaves sending uncomfortable signals to carina’s poor and overstretched bladder.
“Ah there it is” the pirate said, rushing out of the shop with carina on her heels, wanting to get away from all the excitement and find a secluded place to empty her taxed bladder, forget a privy.
“Are you part of the plan?” The pirate asked.
“I’m not looking for trouble.” Carina supplied, ‘just a privy’ She thought, just as she ducked a shot from one of the prison guards that had suddenly appeared from around the corner, very almost causing her to leak into her undergarments.
“Ungh” she groaned, as she shimmied up a ladder, albeit painfully with her legs jammed closely together.
“ where now?”
She stuttered, wondering how she was going to get away with her small-clothes dry.
“You will need to scream.”
He replied cryptically, before shoving her bodily off the roof they were stood on.
Carina did scream. Loudly.
As she landed on the hay bale cart, all the air was driven out of her, as was her pent up urine, just begging for release from her labouring loins. Urine spurted out, dampening her undergarments.
Carina slammed her hand into her crotch, burying her hand into her womanhood in order to stem the flow.
As she regained control, she paused, then she slowly slid off the top of the cart to the ground, smoothing down her dress and sorting out her ample cleavage, which had almost escaped her tight dress in all the excitement, just to be bundled into a wall by the guards, before being bundled into a caravan of prisoners, destined for the noose. As her hands were tied behind her back carina worried about her ability to hold onto her aching bladder, which had doubled in its insistence to release, having already been granted a taste of freedom.
As the execution block loomed into view, one of the clearly innocent girls in the cage, looked at the noose whimpered, and promptly emptied both her bladder and her bowels, her leggings darkening and bulging as she emptied all she owned into her panties.
Carina groaned and winced, leaking a couple of dropped into her damp undergarments. The sensation causing a peculiar sensation in her underwear, what was it, it wasn’t a sensation she felt before?
But before she could think of it she was seized and dragged out; the soldiers leading her to the gallows and seemingly to her doom, if only she could visit the privy before hand!
As the noose was placed around her neck she started to loose the vestiges of control in her lower regions. A drop of urine dribbled out of he uretha and snaked it’s way down her inner thigh, sending tingling sensations down her spine.
‘What is wrong with me?!’ She thought, bobbing down in an effort to regain her dignity as the bumbling pirate was led up to the guillotine before her.
Initially she tried to plead with the audience and explain her actions. But as the pirate started to interfere with her speech and more dribbles escaped her shuddering form, she decided that she just wanted to end this before she completely wet herself.
Before she met her end, a boy swung out of the clock tower and almost landed on the platform of the execution block, before plunging head first into a pile of soldiers, yelling something about a distraction as cannon fire lit up the square. |
I knew it wasn't going to be a good day when I saw the train pulling out right as I reached it. I'd heard the buzzer going off as I'd reached the station, and was a step away before the doors slammed shut and I ran face first into them. From there, I really should of gone home and called it a day. Maybe called in sick. But no - today I decided to carry on. As a result, I'm sat here typing this in a wet skirt, with a pair of wet jeans waiting to go in the washing machine, and I have no idea where one of my socks are. My hands are cut, my knee is grazed, and I'm half expecting a call from my boss telling me not to come back tomorrow.
Let me tell you what happened...
Chapter One - A run of bad luck
I hit the doors with a smack, and the next thing I knew I was sitting on my ass, with my arms behind me propping me up. I open my eyes and watch the train pull away, and the passengers inside all laughing, looking and pointing at me. I'm too stunned to do anything, and I hardly know where I am until the train is out of sight and I'm left staring at the wall with the familiar metro sign for Kings-gate station. I blink and let myself come to for a moment, before glancing to either side. There are about six people on the station, five of them are laughing and the sixth doesn't know what's going on. It's at this point I realise that my bag is about three feet away from my and that my skirt has billowed upwards and I've just exposed my underwear to an entire train's worth of people.
I blush a hot red as I stand up, wiping the grit from my hands down my jacket. My palms sting a bit, and when I take a look I realise that I've got a cut on my left hand. Nothing massive, but I'm bleeding slightly. I brush my skirt down to make myself decent again, leaving a small red smear as I do. I wipe some more grit from under my skirt and I can feel a damp bit where I smear some more blood on my thigh. I walk over to my bag, pick it up, and look around the station. I better wash my hands before I head to work...
I step into the bathroom. It's a station bathroom, which means it's - well, it's a bit under the weather to put it lightly. Do people forget how to use toilets when they go into a public restroom or something? Puddles all over the floor, and only some of it comes from the fourth sink which has leaked for as long as I've lived in the area. I cast a glance at the four cubicles and consider using them for a second - I haven't been yet - but the sight of various bodily fluids and other assorted goodies puts me off. I look back at the sinks and hope to God that I didn't just see a used Johnny hanging over the handle of one of the loos.
I twist the tap with my good hand, and put my bleeding hand under the stream. I then yank it away and yelp - It's really damn hot! I flick my hand to the side throwing a mix of water and blood at the wall, before I use my good hand to run the cold tap too. I gingerly try running my fingers under the stream again, and when the water's neither scalding or icy, I rinse both my hands under it. A quick look at the soap dispenser tells me that I won't be using soap today - I'll spare you the details as to why. I consider sighing before it dawns on me that breathing in here might be a health hazard. I pull a tissue out one of the tissue boxes and dab my hands dry, and then I take a little more in case I start bleeding again. Which is immediately. I hold the tissue in my hand and open the bathroom door to head out.
Just my luck - as I step out the second train blows the door-closing siren and I watch in awe as the doors follow by closing. I slap my palm into my face and sigh as the second train makes it's way into town, and I'm left angry and late for work. I pull my hand from my face and realise I've made another mistake - a cool breeze on a damp spot on my face tells me I need to wash up again. Back into the bathroom I go...
I leave the bathroom, and as I do there's a third train, sitting with it's doors open. Without even thinking I charge at the open doors, half expecting to bounce off them as I reach it. As I reach the train however, eyes shut and firmly expecting to bounce onto the floor, I fly through it's two open doors. I wasn't prepared for this - I trip over as my legs can't keep up and I land nose-first onto the other side, spilling my keys out my jacket pocket. I moan and pull myself to my feet, again slapping down my skirt. I'm too busy grasping for my keys with one hand and wiping at my ass with the other to realise all the carriage is giggling. I stand up and turn around, my back to the doors I've just kissed, and try to pull a straight face. Then I stop trying, wince and rub my nose.
As I pull my fingers from my face and realise I've given myself a nose bleed, I decide I've had enough. I'm going home. I take a step forward. The alarm sounds and the doors slide shut, with me on the inside of them. The wrong side of them. An urge to cry rises in my, but I quash it down and wipe my nose with the tissues I'd taken from the bathroom, hoping that I won't be giving myself some horrific illness. I hold it in place and slump down on a chair, between a man who's fallen asleep, and an old woman who seems to be watching me.
I look at myself in the reflection. My hair's thrown about, and my nose is a bit red. I brush my hair to one side. I've got blonde hair, a little wavy but it mostly sits flat and hangs somewhere between my jaw and my shoulders. Though right now it also hangs onto my lip, my nose, and my eyelashes. I've got green eyes, and a number of freckles over my face, neck, and breasts. Not that you can see my breasts under my shirt of course. My shirt - my work shirt - is a white polo with the company logo on the right breast. A plain logo - a wide red and white striped shield with red text reading Washington's. It's an American style diner. My skirt - not part of the uniform - is slate coloured, mid/lower thigh length skirt with brass buttons to one side. Under the skirt, white underwear, and further down is a matching pair of white knee-high socks and white tennis shoes. My jacket, also not uniform, is a blue Letterman style jacket that used to be my brothers. What is the uniform is in my bag - a set of tan slacks. I can put them on in the changing room. Or anywhere really, I could just put them on under my skirt. Not here of course, there's a man to my left and an old woman to my right.
"Are you okay, sweetie?"
I turn my head to the right - the old woman is looking at me with a look of concern for my bloodied nose, red face, and stinging hand. Well, she can't see that my hand is stinging, but she seems to sense it.
"Hm? I'm, Uh, fine" I lie to her. The red streak that's about to flow over my lip says otherwise. She reaches into her handbag and pulls out some tissues without even looking inside the bag.
"Here you are, love" She says to me, pushing the tissues into my face. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, my immediate response is to pull my head back. She notices and pushes the tissues into my hands.
"Sorry, err, miss" I say to her, taking the tissues to my face. "And thank you for the tissues"
"Not a problem" She says to me, smiling. "I'm always glad to help"
"T-thanks" I repeat. She smiles and nods. Maybe things are looking up for me now.
Wrong.
I reach my station. It's only four stops down, but that's exactly enough time for the train to go from 'a bit busy' too 'absolutely packed'. I can't move. Luckily I'm sat down, so I'm not being squeezed between some sweaty bloke and a heavy-breathing pervert. No - today they're just standing directly in front of me, bashing their bags into my face and my legs. As the train begins to slow down, I rise to my feet, pushing the two men a little to the side (and receiving some harsh looks from them). I try to step forward. Of course no-one moves or even seems to notice. They ignore my pleas of "'scuse me" or my pressing into their shoulders for the most part. Eventually though, I reach the door. Just in time to hear the buzzer and watch the doors closing inches from my head. I try to put my arm through the gap but I'm too slow - instead I get my fingers squeezed back inside. I wince and grab my hand with the other, and glare at the doors as the train lurches forward again and my station disappears behind me
The train reaches the stop ahead of mine, and as the doors open a movement of people throws me out and onto the floor. Again. Still, as I lift myself off my face I can appreciate no longer being on that damned tin can. I breath in fresh air for the first time in two minutes and try to avoid the thought that I'm going to have to force myself into another one to get back. I pull my phone out my pocket to check the time, and my luck being what it is I manage to toss it into the bin next to me.
I look at the bin. My phone's just landed in there. From here I can see a banana skin hanging over the edge of the bin. I dread to look inside...
I look inside. A grim sight looks back at me. My phone is sitting in a plastic jar of half eaten pasta salad. I wince again as I reach inside and pull my phone out, dripping tomato sauce. Another grim sight greets me as I see the clock telling me it's already six-thirty. I have walked through the door to Washington's exactly half an hour ago. Jerry - my boss - Is not going to be pleased. He's always had it in for me. Still - better late than never, I guess. I walk to the other end of the platform and wait for the train.
As I hear the train pull in it dawns on me that I need the toilet. I take a glance down the line and see the train drawing near - it's too late for a break now, and the train after this won't be coming for a good fifteen minutes. Still - at least this one's empty. Each carriage seems to only have half the chairs taken up - except for the one that goes still in front of me. I smile and step in, before I realise why it's empty.
A puddle sits in the middle. It spans the carriage side to side, and it reeks. Someone's been travel sick. And now no-one is stupid enough to sit here. I recoil for a moment, and go to leave the carriage. I don't even make a full turn before the buzzer's sounded and the doors slid shut, and the train lurches forward. I've not had the time to brace for movement, and I fall straight to the floor, my face inches away from the mess on the floor. Without even thinking I'm pushing myself back and trying not to retch, checking my reflection to see if I've come out clean. Luckily for me - I have. Well, so far as I can tell. I push myself into the far wall of the carriage and try not to breath through my nose until the train reaches the station.
The train reaches the station - Liberty garden, and I manage to step onto the platform with tripping over, or hurting myself, or having a stroke. First achievement of the day. I decide to jog to work from there - up the station's stairs, through the corridors, and into the ticket gate. Yes - into. I swipe my card over the reader as I'm walking, and then walk straight into the gates that refuse to open. I'm caught by the doors just under my ribs, winding my a little. I groan and step back a couple times as the doors open and close. I think I must have growled audible, because the skinny teenage door guard turns around and sees me.
"Y-you okay miss?" he squeaks.
"Yeah, f-fine" I wheeze, clutching my chest. "Can you let me through? Please?"
He looks to either side, then steps forward. "H-here, come on through" he squeaks, pressing his own card onto the reader. The doors don't respond. The doors next to me do though, and I glare at him. He notices and is too stunned to respond. Neither of us move for a moment, until the doors swing shut again. I raise and eyebrow and he taps his card down again. The same doors open. Again, neither of us move until they close again. I take two slow steps the side, and he taps his card again. I step through, and the gates close behind me.
"Thanks." I say to the kid, who's clearly embarrassed about the whole thing. If I hadn't had such a bad morning I might find it funny. But right now I'm angry, I've been bleeding, I've got a dirty phone, and I need to pee really bad. I walk briskly from the station.
Having left the station and reached the street, I'm greeted by a thin rain and some stronger winds, blowing my hair about. I clutch my jacket shut and push myself forward.
I arrive at work at about six forty-five. Fourty five minutes later than I'm meant to. Jerry greets me with a glare and raised arms. If looks could kill...
"Sarah? What the f- what on earth are you doing?" He half-shouts. "What time do you call this?"
"S-sorry, Mr Ford" I say to him, exasperate. I sigh - which makes him frown harder. "I just - I've had a rough morning" I say, raising my hands and showing him my grazed palms. "I missed two trains-"
"Two trains, Sarah? Two?"
"Y-yeah - b-but it wasn't my fault!"
"Who's fault was it, Sarah? Sure as shit wasn't mine!"
I don't know what to say, so I just look at him, trying to resist the urge to burst out crying. I don't know if he notices and feels sorry for me, or if he just gives up on shouting at me, but he stops yelling.
"Right. You - behind the counter, now. You're on tills today"
"S-should I get changed?"
"Oh for - YES. Yes you should get changed, there's a uniform for a reason!"
I try to avoid eye contact as I make my way to the changing rooms. I head inside and shut the door. I drop my bag to the floor and pull out the slacks, then pull them on. I undo the buttons on my skirt and let it fall to the floor by my feet. I shove it unceremoniously into the bag, hang my bag and coat on the hangers, and head back into the shop front right as the clock hits Seven. Jerry casts an icy look at me from the front till, catching me before I can even move toward the toilet. I daren't head to the loos without saying anything first.
"H-hey, Mr Ford, mind if I -"
"Mind if you what? Take up more time? Sarah - it's seven in the morning. Morning Rush - you know what that is, right? You've only been here for three years" He spits out the words like some kind of machine gun. "If you even consider asking to do anything except overtime, I'm going to be putting you on tomorrow's special lunch menu"
"Err, nothing" I say, My bladder doesn't agree. I have to go, really badly, and I genuinely fear what Jerry might do more than I fear wetting myself right now. I take my place at the till.
There are about six tills in total lining the bar. It's a thirties-American-diner style shop, with a checkered floor and red leather seats against the walls with a table between two. My colleagues don't say a word until I take my place behind the till, waiting for the morning rush to begin any moment now. We never used to get such rushes in the morning, but then one day about a year ago, Jerry's wife bought two coffee machines and a coffee filter - so now we do coffee's too. We've got our own personalised paper cups and everything, with a blue shield with a white star on the sides. It makes a lot of money of course - everyone wants a coffee in the morning - but it also makes a lot of work, and they've had to hire a barista and train another. That other one is me. Usually I'd be getting ready to use it, but my machine's been broken for about a week. Just as well really, the sight of espresso pouring into a cup would not help my bladder right now. I lean against the counter and wrap one leg around the other in an attempt to hold it easier while also looking casual.
My bad luck seems to carry on through the day. I manage to screw up at least one out of every five orders, to the point that one customer calls me a moron and leaves without paying. I'm too busy hopping foot to foot behind the counter to give my full attention, and each screw up gets me more flustered, and then I make more mistakes, and - it's a vicious cycle. It's not until I accidentally through a double espresso and a panini onto a customer's newly polished shoes that I get called away. The porcelain shatters in slow motion - the coffee flies up, the panini falls apart and the business man flinches as a dark brown coffee stains his suit pants, his shoes and his socks. Jerry thunders over to me while the poor man stands stunned and trying to realise what's going on. Jerry grabs me by the arm and pulls me behind the counter, letting my colleague Chrissie take over from me.
"Sarah? What are you playing at, Dammit!"
"I'm sorry - I-I-I"
"Don't be sorry, Sarah, don't make any more mistakes, got me? I run a diner here, not a circus"
"Y-yes Mr Ford"
"No. More. Mistakes. Got it?"
"Y-yes"
He looks at me like he doesn't trust me. I shift foot to foot as my bladder becomes the one thing on my mind.
"Get on coffee's Sarah" He says to me after a moment of silence. "And try not to throw them around, alright?"
"Y-yes Jer- Yes Mr Ford!"
Jerry thunders away, swearing under his breath. I stand still watching until he's gone through the doors to the kitchen, before I bend over double as my bladder reminds me that it needs emptying - badly. I turn around to see the state of the shop. It's packed. I can't take a loo break now - not when I'm on the only coffee machine. Jerry might actually kill me, which is something I'd rather avoid. I take the barista's white apron and put it over my head, and hit the espresso button on the machine, getting one ready.
The coffee's aren't too hard to make. An Americano is an espresso topped up with water, and everything else is an espresso topped with steamed milk and foam. No, not hard to make - what is hard is taking about five coffee orders at a time, every minute or so. Especially when each new coffee getting poured pushes you a step closer to pouring something warm down your legs.
There's not too much more to say about the busy period here. At the till they call for coffee, and at the machines I make the coffees. I also squirm and wriggle and moan - but that isn't part of the job. At least when I'm making coffee at a rate of knots I'm slightly distracted from my bladder getting fuller and fuller until it starts to feel hard. The customers like to mix things up by asking for a tea or a hot chocolate occasionally (who has a hot chocolate in the morning? Honestly!) Some customers go even further, asking for things that we don't have and then complaining. Still, here at the machine, I don't mind too much because the customers aren't complaining to me, and I'm not spilling anything on them. No, back here I'm just spilling it on the floor while avoiding spilling inside my pants.
By the time it reaches ten my bladder is too full to think straight. I'm making coffees in order and hoping that the customers aren't asking for too much. I don't think I'm doing anything wrong until Jerry grabs me by the shoulder again
"Sarah!" He shouts. "Soya tea - where is it?"
"What?"
"You're joking, right? I've had this gentleman asking for a soya tea for about fifteen minutes now!"
Shit.
"I-I, err, sorry! I-I'll get right to i-hnnnn!"
"....what?"
I wince hard and grab myself with both hands, knocking over an empty paper cup.
"What are you - MAKE THE TEA"
I nod and turn back to the machine. I jam an empty cup under the water spout and hold down the lever. I chuck in a tea bag with one hand and watch intensely as water pours into the cup. The splashes thunder into the cup as it fills up, and I can feel my bladder getting ready to blow any moment now. I watch as more water pours in and in, mesmerised by the flow. More water splashes in, until brown water is flooding over the top of the cup and into the water tray below, splattering and splashing. My own bladder is fit to burst, egged on by the streaming water from in front of me. I can almost feel myself go when Jerry grabs me again
"SARAH!" He shouts - way louder than I think he'd meant to. The shop goes silent, save the jazzy music playing in the background. He grabs my arms and holds them up, leaving the water overflowing the cup behind me.
"Sarah - what the hell are you doing?"
"I-I-I"
"Don't give me stuttering dammit, give me that tea!"
"But I have to-"
"Have to what?"
I look at Jerry - he's fuming. The customers and my colleagues are all watching me, waiting for my response. The water is splashing into the cup behind me, flicking water around. My nose aches, my hand still stings, and my bladder is rock solid. I look down at my feet - I can actually see a bulge where my bladder is. I look back to Jerry, then the customers, then the staff, then over at the spilling cup. It's splashing, and pouring, and flooding, and I...
I lose control. It's all too much for me today - I'm late, I'm hurt, I'm overwhelmed, and now I'm getting wet. My bladder gives up trying to hold everything in and before I can tell what's happening there's a hot burst around my crotch as my overfilled bladder spills out. The jazz and the splashing are quickly joined by murmurs, gasps, and more splashing, as an entire days worth of gold pee flows out of me, I whimper as Jerry stares me in my eyes, which I feel tear up. Meanwhile, I can sense a growing flow of pee down my thighs and shins, with the streams wrapping around my legs and flowing around my knees and ankles. My pants, my socks, my underwear and my shoes all soak in the pee rapidly as it jets out of me. A dark black stain floods down my legs over the brown fabric of my work pants, making my accident more than obvious. Some chuckles behind me, some gasps, and more muttering tells me that everyone is looking. I blush powerfully and clamp my eyes shut as I try to wake up from a horrible dream. O f course I don't - what happens is my socks and shoes get stained a pale yellow, and a hot puddle begins to grow beneath me. Jerry lets go of my hands and I fall to my knees, resting my body on my heels, letting my bladder empty itself after being forced to hold everything in for so long. Talking and ordering carries on again as the spectacle of a grown girl of twenty-three pissing herself loses its appeal, but my bladder doesn't seem to realise as it continues squeezing itself empty. As the last squirts shoot down my thighs, I start to whimper as it all really starts to get to me. I open my eyes, and through the tears I can just about make out Jerry. Or, more accurately, Jerry's crotch. I look up to see his face, and he's looking straight at me.
"S-sorry Jerry" I stutter, drips still falling from beneath me. He doesn't look like he knows what to do. He sort of looks at me, tight lipped and a bit guilty.
"Get up Sarah" He says to me, giving me his hands. I climb back up to my feet, the still-warm fabric sticking to my thighs. I stagger once or twice as my body isn't quite prepared to be stood up so soon after loosing all control. I nearly slip in the fresh puddle, but Jerry catches me.
"That's Mr Ford to you" He reminds me, but he doesn't seem too insulted. I figure he knows that in my state my mind isn't on being polite, it's on my still warm clothes, my soaked legs, and my fantastically empty bladder. I sigh hard as the relief begins to set in. He turns to one of my colleagues, a woman about my age - Martha.
"Martha, take her to the staff room will you?" Jerry says. "Get her changed into her skirt, I'll clean up here and then deal with her"
"Sure - come on Sarah" She says, offering me her hand. I nod, flicking a tear off me, and take her hand. She leads me through the kitchen.
The kitchen staff don't seem too pleased to have me dripping my way through to the staff room, but they haven't really got a choice.
"Are you alright Sarah?" Martha asks me. I manage to nod, sniffing. "That looks pretty embarrassing" She says to me, as if I don't know. I nod.
"Still need to go?" She asks. At first the seems like a dumb question, but then my bladder tinges. I don't know if I just didn't let it all out or if my bladder was pushed too far, but I still need to pee. I nod at her sheepishly.
"Come on you then" She says, leading me by the hand and out the back door. The door leads into an alley behind the store where we keep the bins, and the smokers have a their breaks. The cold air blowing in my face really exaggerates how warm my face is from blushing, and how cold my legs have gotten. She takes one of my hands.
"Go on then - finish off" She says, smiling in what I assume is an attempt to be comforting
"W-what?" I ask. "Pee? Here?"
"Why not, you're over a drain!"
"People would see! I'm not going to expose myself in an alley way!"
"No, silly! Go in your pants!"
She says it like it's obvious, but to me the obvious thing to do would be to pee before I left the house and missed three trains and wet myself at work. She smiles warmly at me again like it's meant to help, but it's not so easy to feel like she's got all her marbles when she's trying to make me wet myself again!
"You gonna go or not?" She asks me, looking like she's getting bored.
"I, err, I guess - couldn't I just use the-"
"Sarah. It's fine. Don't you think it feels kinda nice anyway?"
"Martha! Eww!"
"Would you feel better if I went too?"
"I guess - don't piss yourself Martha!" I laugh. She smiles - I guess she's just trying to be nice.
"Alright then" I say. "Here goes". I take in a deep breath, hold it in, then release. A subtle hiss, followed by a familiar sensation of heat shooting around my crotch hits me. Relief begins to flood over me again, and I must moan because I catch Martha giggling at me. Deciding that it'd be best to get this over with, I squeeze on my bladder, resulting in a harsh hiss as pee shoots down me and runs through my pants, splashing on the floor between my feet. The cold patches quickly warm up again as fresh pee is absorbed by the fabric, before it flows out and lands on the floor, draining quickly away into the drain and leaving black streaks behind it. I close my eyes and just let my bladder do its thing. Pee runs over my thighs and shins again, taking the same still wet path it had before, occasionally making new paths down me, including one that runs down the very front of my shin and making me shiver. My shoes squelch as I wriggle my toes inside, as pee floods into them. My socks are going to be stained a pale yellow top to bottom, and my shoes appear to be like that too. I feel my face relax into a blissful smile as I empty my bladder completely, warming myself up in the process.
"Better?" Martha asks, leaning to one side. I blush and nod, still letting pee trickle out of me. It takes a short moment to stop, and I can feel Martha watching every single drip run down my legs. When I open my eyes, she appears to be blushing too. I'm not surprised - I'd be embarrassed if someone deliberately wet themselves in front of me!
"B-better!"
"I kinda need to go now too" Martha says to me. "I told you it feels good!"
"Martha-a!" I laugh.
"Might do it myself now anyway"
"Martha! Don't wet yourself, okay!" I laugh, taking her by the shoulders. She smirks back at me.
"Alright Sarah, you've convinced me. Another time then?"
I chuckle at the idea of someone planning to wet themselves sometime. Martha smirks back at me.
"Come on you, let's get you changed"
We head back into the office, after I've flicked my legs a couple times to stop them dripping.
That's not the end, by any means. You need to know why my skirt is wet, and why my sock is missing. Well - I'll tell you. Next time. Right now it's midnight, and I've got work in the morning. Here's hoping the day goes better than today right? I mean, how much worse can a day be than pissing yourself TWICE in front of your boss? Whoops - spoilers! Don't worry, I won't tell you any of the important details, like whether or not Jerry still employs me, that's what you're really here for, right?
What's that? That's not what you're here for?
See you next time! |
Let's recap what happened last time. I had a shit day. Here's a preview of what's about to come: I continue having a shit day. I guess that's kinda obvious - I'm sat here in a wet skirt that's starting to smell. Of piss. Because I pissed myself. And me being me I tried to hold on as best I could because I didn't want to wet myself twice in the same day. Which means I held on with both hands until thee pee stopped running through my fingers. I won't go into detail about that right now though, you can read on for that.
Chapter Two - Chapter one but continued
Martha leads me back into the building, and once we're inside she leads me through the kitchen and into the staff-room. Each step I take squelches and leaves a wet footprint on the floor behind me. I can tell everyone in the kitchen is watching me, which makes me blush again. I try looking down, but the sight of my still warm pants just reminds me of what they're staring at, so instead I let Martha lead me by the hand into the staff room with my eyes closed and a couple tears running down my cheeks.
"They all were looking, weren't they?" I ask as Martha shuts the door behind me. She nods at me. I stand in the middle of the staff room while Martha roots through a cupboard to find something.
The staff room isn't massive - it's about ten metres long, and about three metres wide, and of course it seems smaller because of all the stuff piled in here that they couldn't put in the kitchen - things like spare boxes, draws, and the staff lockers, including mine. On the wall opposite the wall with the lockers is a cheap leather couch, and right infront of that is a folding plastic table with some discarded food packaging. While Martha roots about in the cupboard I squelch over to my locker and pull out my bag with the skirt inside. Of course I don't have spare underwear, socks or shoes because I hadn't planned on pissing myself today. All I have is a skirt. I pull the skirt and look back at Martha, who's set down a plastic sheet over the sofa. It's just the plastic from around a box of something or other, but it'll keep the seat clean. Martha points to it.
"Want to sit down, wet-pants?" She asks me. I blush immediately.
"T-thanks, Martha" I say to her, stepping over and sitting down, leaving my bag next to me. I lean forward and pull my shoes off, followed by my warm, wet socks. They're stained a shade of yellow that tells me I really ought to drink more, ironically. I flop them into my shoes and sit back on the sofa, stretching out my legs and wriggling my toes. It feels quite liberating being barefoot and sat down after being stood up all day, especially considering what's happened. By all day I mean from about seven until now - and now is about ten-thirty, but it feels way longer. I rest one leg over the other, and rest my head back on the sofa cushions. Martha takes a seat on folding chair in front of the lockers and smiles at me.
"You look real comfy there" She says, titling her head to one side. I smirk.
"Ha, I would be if I wasn't starting to get cold" I say to her, as the wet fabric clinging to me begins to go from warm to room temperature. I look down at them again to really assess the damage.
The main wet patch is around my crotch, obviously. It sort of seems to have exploded out from my crotch, sideways over my thighs, about a foot in width at it's widest, making the inner edges of my pockets damp. Judging by how my backside feels, the wet patch behind me covers me cheek to cheek. The wet patch tapers down my thighs, before bowing outwards at my knees, then tapering down again the the leg-holes. I lift my feet up to get a better look at the ends of the legs. At the holes the wet patch seems to have become a complete circle. My feet glisten under the flickering light bulb.
"So what now?" I ask Martha, hoping she'll know what to do. She shrugs.
"I guess get changed" She says to me. "Unless you want to go home wet and cold, drawing looks from everyone"
"I can't say I do" I admit. "All I have is the skirt though - no spare shoes or anything, and I'm not going barefoot"
"Well, obviously" Martha says. "If I were you, I'd take everything wet off, then put on the skirt and shoes."
"No underwear?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. "When I'm wearing a skirt?"
"Well, your underwear's wet" She reminds me.
"Still, I'd rather have wet panties than no panties!"
"But what if someone sees them?"
"Martha - If someone's going to look up my skirt I'd rather they just saw underwear, no matter no wet it was"
"But then people would think you wet yourself!"
"I did wet myself!" I remind her - and with perfect timing. Right as I shout that out, Amber comes in, swinging the door open and letting the entire kitchen hear me. I feel myself go red again. Amber stands still for a moment with the door resting against her, looking at me, sort of stunned.
"A-are you okay, Sarah?" She asks in her thick Scottish accent.
"Me? Yeah, fine!" I answer, slapping my hands down on my thighs before I can remember what's on them. "Amazing, in fact, Amber - fucking amazing"
"S-sorry, I was just asking" she says. I sit, staring at her, until she realises that she should shut the door.
"What happened?" She asks. I raise an eyebrow.
"It's not obvious, is it?" I ask her, my voice dripping with more sarcasm than my legs are dripping on the floor.
"Sarah, don't take it out on Amber" Martha says to me. I lean back again and sigh.
"You're right - sorry Amber" I say. "I've had a crap day. What's up, anyway?"
"Erm, Jerry sent me down to collect you once you're ready to go back up" She explains, rolling all her 'r's. "A-are you ready yet?"
I raise my eyebrow again, and I'm about to go off on one when Martha coughs and brings me back down. Amber seems to notice as she nods at me and leans against the wall. Amber's only been here a few weeks now - whereas I've been here going on two years. She's about twenty two, and she's quite small for her age. I don't think she's ever been into a pub and not had them ask for ID. She's got brunette wavy hair that falls over her shoulders, and a face full of freckles. Martha, by comparison, has flat blonde hair cut into a bob, she's just under thirty, and she has no freckles. She's also quite tall.
I lift the skirt of the top of my bag and stand up, throwing one or two drips off my legs and onto the floor. I go to undo the button on my pants. As usual, the thing doesn't want to come off, and it doesn't help today that it's wet and slippery. I look back up at the two girls at the other end of the room.
"Err, I'm gonna get changed, would you mind...?"
"No - not at all!" Amber says, smiling. "You go ahead, we don't mind!"
I wait for them to leave - Martha makes initial motions to get up and leave, but when she sees Amber standing still, beaming and waiting for me to get changed, she sits back down. Martha looks back at me, and I look back at the two girls. Martha looks confused as to what to do, Amber looks like she's genuinely trying her best to be friendly.
"...Well could you?" I ask. Amber's eyes shoot open
"Y-you want us to undress you?" She stutters. I rub my hand against my face.
"I want you both to leave. So I can get changed." I explain. I can see the realisation physically impact her. She raises her eyebrows and nods slowly.
"R-right, we'll go!"
The two girls get up and leave, leaving me alone in the staff room with my wet pants and unmistakable odour of fresh urine. I fight with the button on my pants for half a minute before it finally comes undone, and then I let the pants fall down my legs into a wet heap around my feet. The now-cold stain makes me wince as it lands on me. I step out of the heap, one foot at a time, leaving wet foot prints on the blue-painted concrete floor. I've never taken my shoes off in here - I'm surprised at both how cold and how smooth the floor is! I do my best to stay on my tiptoes to keep off the floor. I hobble over to my sneakers and slide my feet in - they're really cold, so I take them back off and groan. I look around to see what to do, and as I look to my left I can see both Martha and Amber watching me through the door's window, gaping at my half-naked body. I sheepishly take a step back, out of their view. I decide to put my skirt on before I do anything else. I put one foot after the other through the skirt, pull it to my waist, and button it up so it hugs me around the waist. It goes just under halfway down my thighs, hiding a little bit of my still glistening skin. I tip-toe to the door and open it, gesturing for the other two to come back inside.
"You ready now, Sarah?" Amber asks, with curiosity in her voice. I don't think she notices my bare feet, my wet pants in a heap on the floor, my still wet legs, or my unimpressed glare.
"No, Amber, I am not." I say after a moments pause. She nods in an attempt to look understanding. I look to Martha who just shrugs.
"Come on then, Sarah" Martha says to me. "Get your shoes on and lets get you back upstairs.
"I...can't"
"Why not?" Martha asks.
"They're too cold" I tell her. She raises her eyebrows at me now.
"Then put your socks on"
"They're even colder"
"I-I could run your socks under the hot tap for you" Amber suggests. "That would rinse the pi- the wee out of them, a-and it would make them warm for a while."
I look to Martha, and we consider it. Martha shrugs. I do too.
"Alright then, that'll work" I say.
"I'll take them" Martha says, standing up and picking my socks off the floor. "I'm on break now anyway, I can spare the time to rinse some socks out"
"Thanks, Martha"
Martha heads out the staff room, leaving just me and Amber. I slump myself down onto the sofa. Then I stand up, take the wet plastic sheet off the sofa, put it in the bin, and sit back down. I pull a couple tissues from the table and start blotting my legs. The cheap tissues falls apart a little, occasionally leaving white specks as bits of tissue disintegrate and stick to me as they get wet.
"S-so, you wet yourself, Sarah?"
I look up at Amber, stood watching me cleaning my legs. I'm sure she can see straight down my skirt, which is making her blush. I try to position myself so she can't.
"What gave it away?" I ask her.
"Oh, Jerry told me." She says. "He said you spilt a bunch of tea, then you wet yourself."
"That's more or less what happened." I admit.
"Why did you do it? Why not use the loo?"
"Amber, if I could have used the loo, I wouldn't of wet myself"
"D'you mean you had an accident? You didn't do it on purpose?"
"W-why would I do it on purpose?" I stutter, confused. "No! I couldn't hold it, and it just sort of came out"
"Wow" Amber says. "I havnae done that since I was a wee one at school"
"Wow." I say flatly. "Impressive."
"I was about fourteen or so" She tells me, without waiting for me to show any interest. "The lunch bell has just gone, and we were heading back into our form rooms. I'd not been to the toilet, so I asked my teacher if I could go, and she said no so I went to my seat. Once form was over, we all got up to head to our next classes, except me - I stayed sat in my chair. When the teacher asked what was wrong I completely lost it and wee'd myself right in front of her"
"Amber, could we talk about literally anything other than wetting ourselves? I'm still pretty humiliated by this whole thing"
"Oh, sorry! There's no need to be upset Sarah, it could happen to anyone. "That's what the teacher said to me - I never believed her until today, when you-"
"Amber. Stop it." I tell her. I'm really not in the mood for this. It's also making it worse to know that I'm the first person Amber saw wetting themselves in about ten years.
We sit and wait in silence for a while, until Martha comes back in with a sock in her hand
"Okay! First one done!" She says, triumphantly. "Now where's the other?"
"What?" I ask.
"The other sock, where is it?"
"Martha, you're taking the piss right?" I ask.
"Ha, I get it!" she says, chuckling. When she notices that there's no amusement on my face she promptly stops. "N-no, there's only the one sock..."
"Martha, how do you lose a sock?" I ask. She shrugs at me. I make some noises that are attempts at words but none of them become anything. So I sigh and fall back in the chair.
"Fine, I'll take one sock, thank you Martha".
I slide the warm, mostly dry-ish sock on up my right leg, and then slide that leg into a shoe. Then I slide my other foot into the other shoe, wincing at the cold wet fabric. I look up at Martha, trying to pull a straight face as I wriggle my toes in an attempt to warm them up. They don't warm up, they just squish a little.
"Shall I take you up to Jerry now?" Amber asks as I shove my wet pants into my bag, too exasperated to worry about the bag or its contents. I zip up the bag, look at Amber, and nod. I let her lead me out the staff room and through the kitchen - once again I can feel them all looking at me, and I blush. She leads me out the kitchen and into the shop floor, taking me straight to Jerry - who has taken my place at the coffee machine, while Gary mops up around him. He turns around and walks over to us while we walk to him.
"What took you so long?" Jerry asks, immediately. "I sent you down about five minutes ago, Amber."
"S-sorry, Mr Ford, she was getting changed." Amber tells him. Jerry looks at me and points to my one sock.
"Where's the other?" He asks.
"No idea" I tell him. "It just got lost"
"How do you lose a - I-i-it doesn't matter. I want to talk to you, Sarah, come this way". Jerry starts walking toward his office, and me and Amber follow. When we reach his office door he turns around and frowns at Amber.
"Not you Amber, you get back to work".
"R-right, okay!" Amber stutters, before heading off.
Jerry looks me up and down. I'm blushing, my leg is damp, and my white shoes are slightly yellowed. There's a subtle smell of pee coming out my bag. Or at least I hope it's my bag. Jerry sighs and leads me into the office.
The office is a small room - it's barely a re-purposed cupboard, with a computer desk, computer, and two chairs. He sits down and pushes a bottle of water to me, gesturing at the chair. I take the chair and the water. I take a swig before he starts talking to me.
"Right - Sarah. What happened today?" He asks. I look at him and sigh, leaning back in the chair.
"It's just been a rough day, Je - Mr Ford." I tell him. "I woke up late, I missed two trains, I've cut myself, I've fallen over a couple times, and I didn't get any time to use the toilet."
"So you used the coffee station instead?" He says. I blush.
"W-well, I hadn't meant to...everything just got too much for me and I-"
"I know how that ends, Sarah. You don't need to remind me."
"A-am I fired?" I ask, getting ready to tear up again.
"No, no you aren't"
"But sir, I - w-what?"
"You aren't fired, Sarah. This is your first issue in two years - just don't let it happen again, okay?"
"R-right sir! T-thank you! No more wetting myself, r-right?!" I laugh, tearing up with relief. He gestures to my bottle and I take another drink - the water really helps cool me down.
"I don't mean that bit, Sarah - I mean the bit where you arrived half an hour late, the bit where you kept making little mistakes, the bit where you threw a mans lunch at him, and then the bit where you spilt about half the coffee you put into cups"
"Oh...that bit. I-it won't happen again, Mr Ford"
"See that it doesn't." He says. "You can piss yourself all you want so long as you clean up." I raise an eyebrow. "That's a joke - don't wet yourself. Take the rest of the day off Sarah - but I want you on top form tomorrow."
I thank Jerry and stand up, leaving his office and hoping I'm not leaving wet stains on his chair from my legs. If I am, he doesn't notice as he follows me out. I head over to the counter, while he heads to the kitchen. I pull my jacket out from under my wet clothes, regretting my previous lack of foresight, and put it on, stuffing the pants back in having learnt nothing from my slightly damp coat.
"A coffee please, Gary!" I say, leaning against the counter. It's fairly quiet now - the rush for breakfast is over, so I don't need to wait. Gary turns around and looks at me.
"Oh hey Sarah, you off?" he asks. I nod.
"Yup - had a little accident, gonna go home and sleep until tomorrow happens."
"Oh yeah - would that accident be the one I've just mopped up?" He asks. I blush again.
"M-might have been. W-why?". He glares at me for a moment, then winks and smirks to show that he's not too bothered.
"So, what coffee do you want?"
"Erm, I'll take a, erm, mocha. Please."
"Why go for an easy one right? One mocha on the way for you, Sarah"
I've always liked Gary. He's forty-something, but he acts like he's still a teenager. He plays it up a lot, and most of the time it's pretty funny, and he means well. He's pretty tall, and he's got a Mohawk hair cut, and about three ear-rings in each ear. He's also really good at making coffees. He hands me one of our larger paper cups.
"Are you sure you should be drinking so soon after an accident like that?" He asks, making me blush again.
"Err, no...but I'll be home soon, Gary, it won't happen again, right?". He casts me a look that says I'm making a mistake. I cast him a look that says I really like mochas.
"And water too?" Gary asks, pointing at the water bottle from Jerry in my other hand. "Are you trying to do that again?"
"Oh, no! This is from Jerry!" I tell him. "A-and I'm not going to have another accident!". Another customer walks up to the counter and starts ordering from another cashier.
"Sarah, after that incident, your bladder's going to be a lot weaker, (I notice the customer blush as he over-hears us) and on top of that, coffee is a diuretic. You sure you'll be fine?"
"No. But I'll manage!"
"That's on you, sweetie" He says to me. I smile at him and say goodbye, then leave.
I rest my water bottle in my bag on top of my wet work-pants, and take a sip from my coffee. I almost spit it out because it's way too hot - I counter the heat with a swig from the water bottle. I make my way down to the train station, down the stairs, and toward the ticket gate.
When I reach the ticket gate I notice something new on the notice boards. 'Accident on the monarch line - delays upward of half-an-hour'. Sod that - I'll get the bus. I take another drink from the bottle, then decide it's not worth carrying the bottle around all day - so I finish it, then throw it away in one of the bins. I climb back out the station onto the street level, and make my way to a bus stop.
While I'm walking around, I can see people occasionally giving me a second glance, which I attribute to my one missing sock. I brush down my skirt to make sure it's not got stuck in my underwear - which is now distractingly cold - and I straighten my shirt and jacket. I guess it could be the slightly yellow shoes, but I'm assuming its the one sock. The one sock which is slightly see through, has been thoroughly rinsed, and is now getting very cold. Meanwhile my other foot has warmed up the wet shoe, making it strangely comfortable as it squishes slightly with each step.
I reach the bus stop right as my bus pulls away. By now - eleven in the morning - most people are at work. So the only people around are unemployed, late, or tourists. Meaning a bus going in and out of town isn't very busy. That of course means my next bus won't be arriving for another half an hour. I slump myself onto the bus-stop bench and wait. This is going to be a long journey.
***
About fifteen minutes in and I realise how true what Gary said was - I need the loo. Not badly, not anything I can't deal with, but I can feel my bladder filling gradually as a bottle of water makes its way through my system. I can manage though. I take another sip of my coffee - not too hot any more. On the one hand, it will fill my bladder quicker, on the other hand I don't want it to go cold before I drink it!
***
Twenty minutes goes by. No bus. It has to be here soon though. Right?
***
Forty minutes. Ten minutes over-due. The bus finally arrives, and I stand up and put my hand out to let the driver know I'm waiting. He slows down, pulls over, and lets me on. As I make my way to a seat, I realise just how much liquid is in a bottle of water, and a large mocha. When I reach my seat I cross one leg over the other. No one else is on the bus - just me and the driver. Still, I don't want him to see me - or the CCTV for that matter.
I often wonder what kind of things show up on CCTV. I know for a fact that they must see a lot of drunks at night, there's probably a few accidents on film then! I'd imagine there's also a number of people that have been filmed with two hands in their crotches, trying not to rock side to side. Like I'm doing right now! God, I have to go so bad! I lean forward in an attempt to make it easier to hold - it just puts pressure on my bladder, so I lean back again.
While I sit on the bus, it dawns on me that it's taken a good fifteen minutes to go through four bus-stops. Considering that there are thirty-two between Washington's and my flat, this is not a good pace. My bladder, in contrast to the bus, is filling at a breakneck pace. I'm tempted to let myself have another accident here on the bus.
***
You know what? If the bus driver is going to have me sit on his bus for half an hour and only manage to go through ten stops, he deserves to clean up piss! And I am about to burst here! What on earth is taking him so long? I decide to find out. Not by doing anything crazy like asking the driver, but by pulling my phone out my jacket and searching the bus route.
Car crash. An accident. Funnily enough, it was an accident that got me into this whole mess. I look around me. I'm on the top deck of the bus - no-one else is on. It's not likely anyone will be getting on soon, either....and my underwear is already wet - cold too. An idea begins forming...
It's technically illegal to pee on a bus of course - it's property damage. And getting nude to pee on the bus is also indecent exposure - two crimes in one. But if someone wets themselves on the bus...if they have an accident, then it might not be punishable. If someone pees themselves on a bus then obviously they didn't mean to pee, right? Who would soak their clothes, leaving a wet patch, rather than wait? At least they tried to hold it right?
Wondering where I'm going with this? Wonder no more! If I'm already wet from before - I'm not getting wetter if I wet myself again! Sarah, you are a genius! I'll act up how desperate I am for a little while, then I'll piss myself, and no-one will know it was on purpose! And considering that there's no-one else around, I can just change seats once I'm done, so no-one else would know it was me who made the mess! I start rocking back and forth exaggeratedly, really playing up the look that I'm desperate to pee. I check my phone for the time. It's almost twelve. Okay - I'll have my 'accident' at twelve or so!
Five minutes in, and I'm really going for it! I'm tapping my feet, I'm drumming my fingers on my knees, I've got one leg wrapped around the other and I'm moaning softly every now and then. My bladder seems to be filling faster, almost in anticipation of finally letting it go! I check my phone again as the bus passes the halfway point. Five minutes left. If the bus keeps going at this pace, I'll wet myself soon anyway. So in that sense I'm just getting it out the way!.
Okay - one minute left - now's the time to put my acting talents to use! I tap my feet louder, I moan, and I writhe in my chair. Okay, it's mostly acting at this point - some of it's genuine - I really do need to pee now. My bladder feels solid. How long left? Thirty seconds! Okay, time for the final phase!
I lean forward in the chair, hands on my knees, with my knees apart and my toes pointed inwards...I'm really about to do it! My heart thumps as I build up the courage. Twenty seconds left! I'm so ready for this - the promise of sweet relief almost pushes me over the limit now! I strain my face to make it look genuine, and I moan again. Ten seconds! I start to relax my bladder! Nine! I can feel it coming! Eight - so close! Seven! The doors downstairs open. Six - I hear footsteps. I swear to god - don't you dare come upstairs! Five - I see a man's head appear as he starts coming up the stairs. Four - abort abort abort! Can't pee - he'll see me!
Damn.
After all that acting, I can't do it. This chap has come upstairs, and now he's sat on the seat to the side of me. Not next to me, of course, but the aisle to one side. Of all the places! If he sat even one seat forward I could get away with wetting myself - even if it meant sitting in my own mess until I had to get off! But no - he sits opposite me, where he would be able to see every single drip. I sigh, lean back in my chair, and look out the window, one of my hands firmly planted between my legs.
"Excuse me!"
I hear a very indignant voice from my left - it's the man who got on the bus. He's a rather well-to-do looking man, in his early sixties or so.
"What do you think your doing? And on the bus of all places?"
"I - erm, what?"
"With your hand between your legs - have you no shame?" He frowns. I blush again, harder than before.
"I, err, really need to use the toilet!" I explain to him. He almost recoils when I say that.
"I - oh! I am so sorry, I thought you were doing something quite different"
"...no, why would I do that?"
"I know you sound shocked" He says. "But I've seen exactly that before, on this very bus. Some people have no shame"
I don't know what to say to that, so I just sort of sit, mouth open in surprise. I don't think I've ever seen someone do that, but I've seen news articles from local papers of people getting caught. Why would you do that on a bus anyway? Peeing I can understand...
Speaking of peeing, I am about to blow! My bladder is sorely disappointed that it isn't emptying itself into my underwear right now, and so am I. I show it by feeling a bit glum, my bladder shows it by aching, swelling, and by being an all-round pain.
***
So as it happens, the old man from before got off the stop before mine. Luckily for me - we passed the accident on the road a few stops after he sat down, so I'm finally on the last stretch to my own stop. Of course now there are a number of people on the bus - peeing now is not an option. Not to worry though - as my stop draws into view, I stand up - nearly doubling over as my bladder screams at me - and make my way downstairs. As I step onto the floor off the stairs - nearly leaking with each step - the driver calls me over.
"Hey - you!" He shouts. "Come here".
Sheepishly, I walk over. He looks me up and down.
"Turn around" He says. I don't know what to say, so I do. He looks me up and down again as I do. I turn back to face him.
"W-what's wrong?" I ask, shifting my weight.
"Did you pis- did you wet yourself up there?"
"I - no! No, I didn't do that!"
"I don't know if I believe you. If you have, you're on CCTV, and that is a crime, and you will be fined."
Fuck. Thought it'd be okay if I went in my clothes.
"What makes you think I did that?" I ask him.
"Don't play coy - I saw you writhing about, then stop all of a sudden. If I go up there now, I'll find a puddle, won't I?"
"N-no! I still have to pee really badly! C-can I go?"
He glares at me.
"No. Come up with me, now."
He storms out the drivers cabin, then up the stairs, demanding I follow. Each step I take threatens to send me over the limit. He leads me up to my chair.
"Right - touch that seat" He says, pointing.
"W-why?"
"Prove that it's clean"
I look at him funnily. He doesn't seem to know that he's mad. I lean over, bending at the knees with my other hand still between my thighs, and tap the chair. Of course it's dry. I look at him, showing him my dry fingers. He frowns and pats the chair himself. Of course it's still dry. He stands up and looks at me.
"You were thinking about it, weren't you" He accuses me.
"N-no!" I lie. "Well, m-maybe...but I didn't in the end!"
"...get off my bus."
I hobble back down the stairs, feeling a definite heat appear in my underwear as I thump down each step. I reach the floor outside - and my luck being what it is - I land flat on my face again. As I pick myself up off the floor, I suddenly become very away of a trickling sound below me and a heat coming from inside my underwear - a leak! I slam one hand down, stopping it before it can gain too much speed, getting my hand wet and my skirt stained in the process. I growl as I stand up, brushing my hands off on my skirt. Only a ten minute walk until I get home.
Walking is impossible! Each step sends shock waves up my body and into my bladder, which gets closer to bursting with each step. I hobble down the road, taking care not to walk too fast, without stopping still. If I stop now, I don't think I'll be able to keep walking!
My bladder fills faster and faster, and by now I can see the bulge again. It's so full it hurts. I can't hold it anymore...I just have to concentrate on walking!
Each step is intense now. I've finally reached my road, and my flat isn't too far away now. I lift up a foot, then place it forward. My bladder screams the whole way. I lift up my other foot and push it forward. I feel another sharp heat in my underwear...
It's so hard to walk now that I'm hardly paying attention to where I'm going, and I nearly walk straight past my flat. And by walk, I mean hobble. Each step is impossible, and every now and then I dribble a single drop into my underwear. I turn to face the path to my front door. I moan loudly as my bladder begins to tense up. I don't have long! I pull the key out my jacket and then jam my hand back between my legs! I can do this!
One leg forward. I manage it. My bladder begins to tense up as it reaches total capacity. I moan again. I drag my other leg forward, closing the gap between my legs. I push the first leg forward again. It hits something solid.
The tiny step before the path.
It's about four inches high - but my bladder won't permit moving my leg a whole four inches upward. I grit myself and brace. I heave the leg into the air and slam it down over the step. I make it! My bladder screams. I clench my eyes shut. My whole body tenses up. I shudder hard and moan. And then again, my bladder squeezes, I tense up, I shudder, and I pee as hard as I can.
My bladder's had enough! The step is too much, and before I can even tell what's going on, my hands are coated with something hot and wet, as piss shoots out of me and into my skirt, which is held against my body by both my hands. I moan hard and try looking up - I can see my front door! Tears well up in my eyes, as my bladder continues to squirt out all it can. The stream is directed straight into my right fist, almost ignoring the fabric of my underwear entirely to shoot into and through my skirt. My skirt never stood a chance, of course. It soaks up pee like a sponge, creating a massive wet patch to explode around my crotch as hot gold piss floods into it. The key in my hand fares just as well - pee soaks through my fingers and over them. It's so warm! It's so damn warm! It shoots down my thighs, which are clenched together, making a valley where my legs touch, creating a powerful stream that shoots down through it before splattering loudly onto the floor, creating a rapidly expanding puddle. My one sock takes it's second wetting of the day much worst that the first - it's already damp from when Martha washed it, so rather than letting the pee soak in, pee instead runs through it rapidly, staining the whole thing pale yellow as piss runs down my leg and into my shoes again. My other leg doesn't have a sock to stain, luckily, and instead streaks of pee run down wherever they can. The larger streaks flow around the back of my thighs as my knees bend and my entire torso tenses up. It pours around me, catching in and around my knees, flicking off small streams that splatter to the ground, creating their own smaller puddles on my tiled pathway. I shudder again as everything courses out of me and hits the ground. I can feel myself moaning, but all I can hear is the hiss of my bladder forcing out every drip inside me, and the splatter of those drips around my feet. I feel myself beginning to loose balance, so I swing my soaked hands from between my legs and grasp onto the wall - throwing my keys aside as I do so. They clatter somewhere in the hedge, but I'm too busy relieving myself so hard I think I might pass out. As my bladder stops squeezing itself and I instead let it empty, I finally regain control of my body.
It's not worth trying to stop the stream at this point - and so I let it all out. I clutch the wall - gasping for air - as the stream flowing out of me begins to slow down to a trickle. The fierce hiss begins to die down, and the powerful streaks down my legs slowly die down. I have never felt such a combination of relieve and exhaustion at the same time. I stand still for about five minutes as I try to get myself back to life, gasping for air as the last drips splash down into the massive puddle beneath me.
When I finally recover my sock has gone cold already. My skirt clings to my form, and I might have pissed a hole through my underwear. Okay, obviously I haven't, but that felt like I could of cut through anything with the force that I pissed. I step out the puddle and scramble for my keys in the hedge, pretending to ignore the passers by who can see straight up my wet skirt. Right now, I wouldn't care if I was completely nude - I just want to get inside.
And from there on I came inside - and that leaves me where I am now. Obviously since then I've carried myself over to my computer, booted it up, and type out all this. And now I need to pee again. My wet work pants are sat somewhere near the washer after I sort of threw them out my bag, I've kicked my shoes out into the back garden, and I'm about to peel off my one soaked sock...There we go, that's off. Well, I hope you enjoyed reading that. What a day it's been...I don't think I'll tell Gary about this - he can get really smug when he's right.
I really can't be bothered getting up to use the toilet now...I'm just going to....ahh....okay, I don't need the loo any more. I do need to clean up though. See you all next time! |
I don’t wet myself at work most days, you know? It’s not normal for someone to write themselves often, barring a medical condition or something. Being put in a position where youre forced into an accident is usually a violation of human rights too, so management tries to avoid it. I’m sure this isn’t the case in some parts of the third world, but I don’t work in the third world. I work in Washington’s cafe and diner, near Liberty Garden station, just opposite the Grenadier pub. Still, accidents happen time to time, especially when things are busy. Like in the mornings.
Chapter Three - Barista’s bladder
”One double Mach, two cappuccinos, and a latte, please!” I shout back to the barristas. My shouts seem like drops in an ocean of noise and more coffee orders, but one of the barristas manages to hear me and shouts my order back. I turn back to the four men who ordered the coffees.
”They’ll be ready in one moment, sir” I say to the one paying, who’s stood in front of me waving his bank card around like it’ll do something useful. Of course I’d doesn’t, so I hand him the card reader. I look back at the baristas while he taps in his PIN.
We’ve got a third coffee machine now, and a third barista. In theory it should be easier to meet the demand for coffee in the mornings, but in practice in means everyone’s tripping over each other behind the till trying to get their coffees. Not much fun. There are a total of six tills now too, though the counter’s not grown any longer, so us six poor souls on the tills are stood shoulder to shoulder most of the time.
The closest barista, a girl called Jennie, calls out my order again. I turn around, bash into Herbert next to me, then Annie runs past me, then I manage to push myself all three feet to the coffee counter. I pick up the macchiato, cappuccinos and the latte, and look back at the four men over the till. I say a quick prayer and make a dash to the till again. By some miracle I make it without dropping one of the paper cups. I hand them over to the men, who all exchange coffees with each other until they’ve got the right one. They thank me and leave.
Washington’s wasn’t intended to be a coffee house - Mr Ford wanted the place to be an American style diner, serving greasy breakfasts, lunches and dinners all the while playing fifties music. Problem is, we aren’t in America, or the fifties. We’re in the financial sector of the city, and people in the financial sector don’t have time for greasy food and Presley, all they want is a quick pick-me-up coffee before a crap day at the office, filing taxes or whatever they do. Still, it means most of our customers are too emotionally drained to be rude or antisocial or anything, so I’m not complaining.
As the four men leave, another customer takes their place and orders their own coffee - a strong mocha. I call it to the barista, she responds, I wait, the barista calls me back, I get the coffee, I hand it over, the customer pays and leaves. And thus the cycle begins again.
Most days are like this - except weekends, because I don’t work weekends. On weekends I stay and home and spend most of my time playing games on the computer. Been playing a lot of Hearts of Iron recently - nothing funnier than kicking off the Second World War by having fascist Canada invade Sweden, angering Germany and the USSR at the same time. That game didn’t end well for me...
Another customer, another coffee, I call it to the barista, who...is stood kinda funny. Shifting her weight side to side, that sort of thing, as she wrestles with the steam wand. She turns to me, ready to shout my order back now she’s made it. She catches me watching her and blushes a bit.
”Y-your coffee, Sarah!” She stutters, handing me the paper cup. I smile and take it, turn around, and give to the customer. Looks like Jennie needs the loo.
Since my, err, incident, Mr Ford’s been real lenient regarding toilet breaks, but right now Gennie is in the unfortunate position of being a barista, with six of us relying on her for anything that has full-fat milk. Well, semi skimmed. Which is most of the orders we get.
Another customer.
”A coffee, please” He says.
A coffee. Fuck you, guy, you can damn well see the massive board behind me which lists Espressos, Americanos, Macchiatos, Cortados, Flat-whites, Lattes, Mochas, Frappuccinos, and filter coffees, black or white, with a choice of full fat, skimmed, soya, coconut or almond milk, along with a choice of flavourings inlcuding hazelnut, vanilla, almond, caramel and pumpkin. And you ask for a coffee.
“Which coffee would you like, sir” I say to the customer, trying to force a smile.
”White, please.” He says. I turn to Jennie.
”One white filter coffee” I say to her.
”No, no!” The customer says. “An Americano, please”.
”One white Americano please, Jennie” I say through my teeth.
I never used to be like this with coffee. Hell, before I started working here I couldn’t tell you the difference between a filter coffee and a mocha, but now I have to work with them. So it’d be nice if customers told me what they wanted instead of just hinting at it. I turn to watch Jennie make the coffee. She’s got her thighs pretty tightly clamped together.
Jennie’s a nice girl, half a year younger than me. She’s a little shorter than me, but curvier for it. Not by much though. She’s got short brunette hair that barely passes her jawline and curls forwards at her ears. She’s got light brown eyes and a good number of freckles. When she gets angry she swears in French. She’s a little frustrated right now, having a full bladder and an ever-growing list of coffees to make. Not too frustrated though - she’s only swearing a little bit, and it’s all in English.
She turns back to me, coffee in hand, and hands it to me, avoiding eye contact. Poor girl, she really needs to go.
Jennie works the early morning shift from five until twelve, and now it’s eight-thirty, and by the looks of it she hasn’t had the chance to visit the little girls room. Either that or she’s had one too many coffees. I swear the girl drinks enough coffee a day to put drain Columbia of its bean supply. I guess that much caffeine is necessary when you work the coffee machine at rush time.
I hand over the coffee to the customer who looks at me like he thinks I’m a idiot for getting his order wrong the first time even though he asked for ‘a coffee’. The git. He turns around and leaves without so much as a thanks and the next customer takes his place. I take his order, then repeat it to Jennie.
“One almond latte, coming” she repeats back to me. “Oh, I need you to get more beans from the kitchen when you’re done there Sarah” she adds.
“Sure!” I say to her. Anything that gets me off the tillis good in my books. I turn back to the customer, ask them about their day and wait for Jennie to call the coffee. When she does I hand it to the customer, they pay, they leave, and I head back into the kitchen.
To get to the kitchen I have to walk down the whole length of the counter (I’m at the far end), then to get the beans I need to go through the kitchen and into a small corridor which leads out to the back. We keep the beans on a shelf in that corridor. Just before the door leading out is the door to the staff toilet on the right. I pick up the beans and make my way back to the shop front - back through the kitchen, say hello to Martha, back behind the counter, all the way to the far end of the counter, bump into Herbert again, then I reach Jennie coffee machine. She clenches her legs together, stands on her tiptoes, and opens the lid. I try to ignore her obvious needs and pour the beans into the grinding machine at the top. She wriggles her hips side to side and tries to suppress a moan.
“Need the loo?” I ask her innocently.
”Oh, merde...is it so obvious?” She responds with a sigh.
”it really is, wriggles” I tell her. “Go to the loo real quick”
”But who will cover my machine?” She asks. I sure as shit won’t - I’m not dumb enough to work coffee machines during the rush! Or paid enough.
“You gotta stay, Jen” Herbert says - I guess he was listening. “We need you here, these coffees are coming quick! Oh, one cappuccino, by the way” he says before ducking back to his counter.
“He is right...” Jennie mumbles. “I ‘ave to stay here”
”Up to you” I say, shrugging. “Just don’t make a mess”. Jennie blushes again and looks away.
And so we go on, ordering coffee after coffee. No one stays in of course, all take away. Each time I order, Jennie looks slightly more urgent than before.
Five minutes since our chat, and Jen is sneaking her hand between her legs every few moments, pressing her red barista apron into herself. I order a filter coffee, and I can see that the pouring coffee is having a quite strong effect on her - the splashing, the pouring, the sounds - it’s spall starting to get to her.
Another five minutes in and she’s moaning every now and then. Soft but pained moans, that she thinks we can’t hear over the shop noise. But we can hear it, quite clearly. ‘Hnn’, ‘haah’, ‘awwh’. She’s got a soft, gentle voice, and a thick French accent. Her moans are sensual, with enough of a hint of pain to sound like she’s being quite intimate. It’s enough to make me question my sexuality...not Herbert though - he’s standing funny now too, and he doesn’t need the toilet.
Ten minutes have passed. The moaning hasn’t. It’s gotten so much more so than before. Each of Jennie’s breaths is a gentle moan. Worried, pained, but soft and quiet. I have never fancied a girl so much in my life, just based on her moaning! I have to force myself to remember it’s because she needs the toilet so badly, but it doesn’t change how I feel! I feel all warm and tingly, like I’ve got butterflies in me...I can see Jennie’s moans are having a similar effect on Herbert - he’s sweating a little, trying to act natural while pushing his body into his till to hide his, err, enthusiasm.
Another five minutes passes, and I’ve managed to just about stave off arousal by replaying episodes of Red Dwarf in my head and serving coffees. Herbert’s not been so lucky. Although Jennie’s moans are now more like gasps than moans, like she’s on the verge of-
“S-Sarah?”
”Huh? Yeah?” I say, turning to Jennie.
”c-could you get more coffee b-beans, hnnn, q-quickly!”
”oh, yeah, sure!” I say, turning away from an approaching customer before he can ask for anything. I start stepping toward the kitchen and notice Jennie taking off her apron - looks like she’ll be using the toilet after all! Well, the rush is more or less over, and she’s held it so long, she deserves it! I push my way through the other cashiers and glance back once more before going into the kitchen. Herbert looks relieved to see Jennie shuffling away, Jennie looks urgent...then very shocked, then embarrassed. I try to see if she’s having an accident, but the speed at which she shuffles in my direction indicates otherwise. I open the kitchen door and head through. As I reach the corridor with the coffee she reaches me and almost barges past.
”Looks like you’re gonna make it!” I joke as she pushes the bathroom door. She turns to me and starts a sarcastic laugh, which quickly becomes a look of dread as the door doesn’t budge.
”What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Zut! Someone’s in thereeeee!” She moans, trailing off into a longer moan as she bends over and stumbles against the wall. Now I can see the drying wet streak on her leg.
On the inside of Jennie’s right leg there’s a single dark streak on the thigh of her tan slacks.
“S-sarah! I can’t hold it!” She moans. I just stand there watching, bag of coffee beans in my hands. She pushes herself off the wall and back to the door. Her legs are bent, one hands stuck between her legs, and the other pounds the door. “‘Urry! I ‘ave to go!” She yells, but it’s no use. She pushes her body onto the wall, facing me, and does her best to hold on. She breaths out hard, then tries breathing in. Her breath quivers hard, and as she fills her lungs with air her bladder begins to leak. She moans hard as she breaths out, and a wet dribble grows visible on her pants.
She breaths in again, with both hands clamped between her thighs now. Her eyes are shut tight, and she can draw breath, but as she does, more leaks out of her. It begins to sleep through her fingers, and a couple drips hit the deck. Wet stripes run down both her thighs, almost six inches on either side.
“Come on, Jen, hold it” I say, trying to encourage her. She doesn’t respond. She’s doing her best to hold her breath. Her bladder must be so full that even breathing in is too hard for her. She stands quaking on the spot, holding her breath and her bladder, with tears forming in her eyes. She looks up at me.
She breaths out - slowly, like she’s trying not to. Then draws in air, quaking as she does. Another wave of pee flows out of her, splashing down her legs and hitting the floor between her feet. She closes her eyes and pushes her head against the wall.
”m-merde...” She mumbles.
She exhales once more. Then she tries to breath in.
That last breath is too much, and her bladder bursts like a dam. She pushes her body against the wall as a hiss thunders about the corridor, coming from inside Jennie’s rapidly darkening pants. A wet patch bursts around her hands, smothering her thighs as piss coats her skin and runs down her. Pools begin expanding around her feet within seconds, with bubbles around the edges as pee splatters out from her pants and splashes onto the ground. The usually silent corridor is filled with the sound of pee spattering against the tiled floor as it cascades down the poor girls legs. Jennie’s shoes barely slow the flood as it soaks over and through the white fabric of them - her once clean canvas shoes quickly turning a shade of pale yellow as pale yellow pee is washed through them and over her feet. Yellow streams flow from between her fingers as she keeps them clamped to herself - I can only imagine the force at which the stream of piss is being shot into them. It’s probably hitting her in the palms before squeezing through her fingers like they aren’t even there. Pee runs over the back of her hands before falling off in a steady stream at her knuckle and flowing onto the ground to join the rest of the ocean once inside her. Jennie moans as the relief hits her. So much pee, held in for so long, it must feel great to be finally letting it go, even if it is into her slacks. After so much stress and hard work, the feeling of relief and warmth spreading over her must be great, even if it is just her legs. As relief takes over he, she lets her arms drop to her sides and slumps against the wall, sighing loudly as she lets it happen. No more holding back, just the relief and warmth of finally letting go. Well, being forced to let go, but that’s beside the point. Either way, there’s an entire bladder’s weight of warm pee going down her legs and onto the floor - but at least it’s out of her! Jennie stands slumped against the wall, mouth hanging open, the last of her pee trickles out of her, then out her pants. She stays panting until the huge puddle beneath her stops rippling.
“Uh, Jennie?”
”oh my god...” she mumbles.
”Hey, it’s okay...” I begin.
”Oh, it is so much better than okay...” Jennie says, laughing a little. “My god! That is so much better!”
”Umm....”
Jennie doesn’t say anything. Instead she looks up at me and smiles. “Hey. I don’t need to go anymore...that is good, non?”
”I guess”
”ohhh...” Jennie moans, tilting her head back. “Oh, now I know how the filter machine feels...”
I chuckle at that. “You know Jen, you’re taking this really well”
Jen shrugs. “I suppose so” she says, flicking her legs. “Right now I am too drunk with glee to feel bad”
”Give it five minutes...” I say to her. Before she can respond, Martha walks into the corridor.
”Hey, what happened he- oh.”. Martha looks at Jen, and then at the puddle, then at Jen’s soaked slacks. “Couldn’t hold it?”. Seems like a silly question to me...
”Well, we’d better sort this out” Martha says. “Sarah, go get a mop please, I’ll deal with this”. I nod and begin to leave. As I’m walking out I hear them talking still - Martha speaking to Jen.
”You’re okay, yeah? Would you feel better if I wet myself too?
I told you I didn’t wet myself all the time. No - other people do it too! So Jennie got the rest of the day off, of course, lucky for her! Now I know if I ever want the day off I just have to ‘have an accident’ and then I can leave! Ha, not likely though - I can’t afford days off all the time. Anyway, I have to go, I really need the toilet myself now! I guess I could...I mean, if you wanted to see me go I could just...nah, not today! Like I haven’t got enough laundry to do already! |
Five minutes to three. It was time to go on duty. Sam grabbed his knapsack and exited the classroom. In a way, he hated to leave. Mr. Cordovian was a boss science teacher, and Sam was interested in everything he talked about. But to be a Patrol Boy: That was a feather in his cap that Sam just couldn't pass up.
Sam had not applied to be a Patrol Boy. He knew he would never be chosen. Patrol Boys were from the in-crowd, the jocks, the swells, none of which included Sam. Then came the deployment. Several boys had dropped out of the Patrol Boys when their families moved, as the Brigade deployed to Korea. Miss Quinmorton, the Patrol Boy Director, had come to Sam and personally asked him to step in and become a Patrol Boy. Sam was flabbergasted, but "No" was not on option, so, here he was fast-walking down the hall and out the door to get to his post at stoplight a block down from school.
Patrol Boys, as Sam had learned, fulfilled a vital function at this and other intersections. There was a policeman assigned to the intersection morning and evening, but little kids: Sometimes they got confused or forgot when to cross, or got to horsing around and stepped into the street in front of traffic. Patrol Boys stood at the curb, making sure all younger students stayed behind them, until told to cross. The Patrol Boy's word was law. Woe betide anyone disobeying a Patrol Boy, and double woe betide any Patrol Boy late to his post, or not paying attention to his duties.
Proud of his Patrol belt, Sam never showed up late, and absolutely never allowed his attention to be diverted. Miss Quinmorton had complimented his good performance, and Sam intended to maintain his good record.
Doing so presented no problem for Sam, for Sam was a responsible boy. However, being a Patrol Boy did present Sam with one little problem. Sam walked to and from school, so taking a few minutes to go the boy's room before leaving school was no problem. But Patrol Boys had five minutes to get from class to their assigned places. There was no leaving a couple of minutes early to run to the bath room; not even Patrol Boys left class before five to three.
Thus, Sam more or less had to pee every afternoon when he was on duty. Sam had never peed his pants on duty, but twice he had done so trying to make it home after he was dismissed from duty. Today, however, Sam really had to go; I mean REALLY! The milk truck had delivered extra milk that morning, so students were encouraged to help themselves. Four half-pint cartons made a quart, and Sam, who loved milk, relished this unexpected bounty.
But, as the afternoon passed, Sam's kidneys had busily converted that delicious milk into pee, and four half-pints felt like four gallons in Sam's bladder. But, Sam was a Patrol Boy first of all. He already had given up the hope of reaching home with dry pants; he just hoped -- even prayed -- that he could complete his duty, before the unavoidable happened. "Let's go; Stand back; stop; wait." Sam went through his routine just as he should. The sweat on his forehead, however, and the telltale hand squeezing his crotch made it obvious that Sam was desperate.
Sam heard some little girls tittering: "He's about to pee his pants." Sam felt the flush on his face, but he pretended he didn't hear. Five minutes to go. Another spasm gripped his bladder. The pee felt like it was right at the tip of his peepee. No! Sam felt a squirt in his underpants. Sam got control, only to lose it again. His underpants felt wet and warm, but it wasn't showing, yet. The next spasm hit like a Tsunami. Tsunami, Sam mused; that's what they were studying in Mr. Cordovian's class. This, however, was no Oceanic tsunami. It was a dam burst, a unstoppable stream splashing into Sam's underpants, running down his thighs, his calves, into his shoes, and into the gutter. Thank goodness all the students had gone. Maybe no one would see.
Finally, time to head for home. Running in wet pants is no fun, but Sam headed home as fast as he could. He would throw his pants in the washer and take a shower before Mom or Dad got home. Yes, Sam would come through his crisis okay.
The rest of the year proved uneventful. As Sam hoped, no one ever mentioned his accident, so probably no one had seen it. Sam gave a thank you every time he remembered. He alone would bear the memory.
On promotion day, students were recognized for this and that honor, before being sorted into next year's classes. Sam paid little attention. He was a good student, but honors always went to the in crowd.
Hodie elbowed Sam in the ribs. "That's you, Sam; get going." Miss Quinmorton stood at the mike, and was actually calling Sam's name. Confused, Sam stood up, worked his way to the aisle, and went up to the stage. Miss Quinmorton smiled, then spoke into the mike. "This year's Top Patrol Boy award goes to Sam Stronbach." The students clapped. Sam didn't know what to say; he was glad he didn't have to say anything.
But Miss Quinmorton was speaking again. "Sam never missed a day on duty, he never showed up late, and he always discharged his duties exactly as he should." Miss Quinmorton bent closer to the mike: "Most you don't even know this, and I imagine Sam himself doesn't even know I know, but one day Sam actually peed his pants, rather than leaving his place early.
Utter silence broke into peels of laughter. Sam was stunned. His face burned with embarrassment. His mouth hung open. He couldn't move.
Then, Sam peed his pants -- again. |
Preface:
A Sci-Fi epic may seem a little ambitious for my very first Omorashi story... However, I am reasonably confident in my ability to write non-Omorashi stuff, so maybe it will translate over?
Each chapter will have a number of fetish tags attached to them (Minor desperation, Major desperation, Peeing, ect). The first chapter will partly be used to set up the world this all takes place in, so I urge you to read that one even if it's fairly light on the fetish side of things. I don't mind if people point out spelling errors or the like. Language mistakes annoy me, so I'd like to fix them if I can.
This first part of the story will span four chapters and feature Leanore Turnstar, plucky protagonist. And so, without further ado, let's get this show on the road!
Chapter 1 - Enter Turnstar!
[Minor desperation]
Earth, 2041.
"Sixteen years ago, we humans learned we were not alone is the universe. The weather was obviously different all over earth when it happened, but, many accounts cite a particularly warm and bright summer day. It was June, after all. We never stood a chance.
It was sudden. The only thing separating the idyll of summer and the ominous spacecraft blanketing out the sun was the blink of an eye. Later, we came to understand that a complex set of instructions and demands were telepathically communicated to the leaders of the world. For your average person, however, the following days must have been completely incomprehensible.
For the first few minutes, the earth was simply shocked into silence. Then, with a frantic energy, we tried our hardest to understand what was going on. The news went mad, half-truths and conspiracy theories were peddled over the internet, and our leaders and influential figures raced to come out with an official statement. Two hours later, the nukes were fired.
In a desperate attempt, some madman military or chief of state lost to history launched several megatons worth of nuclear missiles against the alien spacecraft. This had, seemingly, no effect yet it started a conflict known as the four-day war. Indeed, it took only four days for all of human society to capitulate to the aliens. No, or at least very few lives were lost on either side.
Present day, our world has advanced at an incredible pace, thanks to alien technology. The aliens (we now know them as GOFD, or Milky Way Federation) shared some incredible technology, which has improved living conditions all over the globe. The Federation brought many societal changes as well, such as the school system becoming more geared towards sending students to work not only down on earth, but also getting them into positions with the GOFD. Not to mention the somewhat unusual toilet syst-... Are you listening, miss?"
The class turned to face Leanore Turnstar (Known as Lea to her friends). She snapped out of her daydream and mustered a slight uh-huh and gave her teacher a little nod. As soon as attention was directed away from her, she once again stared out the window, mindlessly observing the bluish falling leaves.
"So, as I was saying, the treaty between the humans and the Federation brought a number of laws and limitations we must follow. The strangest of which is probably the toilet directives. As you all know, all toilets are kept and maintained by the Federation, and you in this class are young enough that you don't even know what it was like before then, but..."
Lea knew most of this already. Four restrooms were available at school, two for males and two for females. Yet, instead of queuing up for these bathrooms, everyone was assigned designated break times during which they could enter the toilet. You simply pressed your hand against the door at the right time, and it would open. This was Lea's first class in "Recent History", and she was guessing that this was just them covering the very basics. After all, you'd pretty much have to be blind to not know this stuff.
"Hey, Lea..."
I mean, teaching a bunch of third-years about the toilet directives? They've lived with them their whole lives, that's really...
"Lea?"
She once again left her window, as someone softly called her from her right.
"What's up, Eri?" Lea's benchmate and friend, Erisa, always got a bit of a forehead wrinkle when she was fretting about something. Lea turned to face a pretty wrinkled forehead.
"Um... When's your next toilet break?" Erisa had kind of a pleading look to her, so Lea was pretty sure she knew where this was going.
"Got mine at 12:50, just after lunch. How so?"
"Do you think I can have yours?" Erisa was desperately trying to keep her voice down. "I got really unlucky with mine today, I really don't think I'll make it like this"
"Sure, no problem" At this, Erisa's face immediately shone up. "Just try to be more careful next time, if you end up relying on me for toilet breaks, that's sure to cause some trouble eventually." Perhaps surprisingly, people were free to swap or even give each other toilet breaks. Lea usually had no issues with the directive due to her rather generous bladder capacity, but she knew several girls who had.
"Thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you..." Erisa let out a rather nervous-sounding chuckle while gently fidgeting in her seat. Lea wasn't really how Erisa already had a need this early in the day, maybe she had managed to miss her allotted morning pee somehow? |
The first two chapters are a little light on Omorashi material since I've got a whole sci-fi setting to set up. But I think that'll be fixed when chapter three comes around...
Chapter 2 - Wondrous and Mysterious. Urene!
[Minor desperation] [Omorashi-related science]
Second class of the day was Chemistry, and while Lea had barely been paying attention during Recent History, she was feeling pretty energized about this class. Since Erisa and Lea weren't going to this class together, they agreed to meet up at lunch.
A rather excited-looking Ms. Lee excitedly entered the classroom carrying some scientific-looking case, so the lesson already seemed miles ahead of the last one to Lea.
"What I just got my hands fed-side this morning is a small sample of the universe's most powerful known energy source in it's unrefined form!" Sarah Lee always tried to add a dash of drama to her lessons. "Behold!"
Inside the case rested a metal and glass container with a number of small yellowish crystals. A thin yellow mist encased the crystals, as if though they were emitting it. "Is that, Urene?" It was a shrill, excited voice belonging to a girl Lea didn't really know all that well.
"Please raise your hand before asking questions, Elsanova." The girl sank back into her chair, but couldn't hide a little anticipation.
"Even so, you were right. This is indeed a small sample of Urene crystals. Today, all human technology is powered by these, but we don't understand how they are made. The type-1 batteries you use at home, for instance, contains an even smaller amount of Urene" Sarah Lee went on with her opening lecture, drawing a cross-section of the battery and explaining it's components.
"The Federation are our only source of Urene, since each country are assigned a monthly allowance of the stuff. However, none of their regulations prevent us attempting to create our own, so that's what we're doing today!" Ms. Lee was absolutely beaming at this, and Lea couldn't help but share a little of her excitement. The arrival of the Federation had brought with it several new fields of chemistry, physics and even biology. It was Lea's dream to join the world's top scientists in humanity's newest frontier; space.
"Now, the greatest minds of our time has struggled with figuring out the manufacturing process of Urene, so the likelihood that we'll be able to do it now seems a little slim. But even so, I want you to try, and I want you to learn!" Ms. Lee started handing out chemistry sets, and pairing students into groups of two.
"...Yohn, Mintha..., Alex G, Derrik..., Elsanova, Leanore..." The class shuffled around until they all found their lab partners.
Ms Lee walked up to the table and turned to face the class. "So! I want one student from each group to come up and grab a crystal so you may get a proper feel for it. But be careful since-"
"Ohmygod! Is it dangerous?" Another of Lea's classmates, Ceel, shot up from her seat.
"Hands, please. I wouldn't say it's dangerous, per say. But to illustrate, have any of you students accidentally broken a Urene battery at any point?" Another student quickly raised her hand, a blonde one, Lea didn't know her name.
"And what happened when you did?" Sarah Lee asked. The blonde one started blushing, but didn't say anything.
Ms Lee explained for her. "Indeed, Urene has many wondrous and sometimes strange qualities, one of them being..."
Lea was perfectly aware of the effects of a broken Urene battery. Years ago, when she first became aware of the origins of the Urene battery and the mystery they posed to humankind, she instantly became insatiably curious. She spent about half an hour in her room picking one apart and tinkering with one before she started feeling her bladder fill up surprisingly fast. Since it wasn't too intense at that point, she figured she would keep picking at the battery until her toilet time, just an hour or so later. That ended rather badly for her.
"...and so, to prevent embarrassment we will remove these crystals from the container one at a time, and safely enter them into the examination capsules." Ms Lee demonstrated by flicking a switch on the metal part of the container, causing one of the crystals to fall out of an opening at the bottom. She then brought an examination capsule and pressed it against the crystal with great precision and skill, causing it to enter flawlessly.
"If you do it this way, you will only be exposed to faint Urene radiation. Even so, I want you give the person who's doing this a bit of space when you queue up, so as to avoid unnecessary exposure."
"So, do you wanna do it, or should I? I've got a toilet just after lunch, so I don't really mind." The sound of Elsanova's voice caused Lea to turn.
"I'll do it!" Lea confidently exclaimed. "I've been wanting to handle one of these babies for years, and you can't get them unprocessed from anywhere unless you've got special grants."
"I see. I'm glad I've got such a a psyched lab partner." Elsanova was smiling warmly. Lea didn't exactly know the girl, they'd spoken a few times, but she couldn't help but give her a smile back.
Lea queued up behind a few other students. When it was her turn, she carefully flipped the switch, letting the crystal out onto her sanitized lab-gloves. For a moment, she couldn't help but be mesmerized by the yellow shard. Up close, it was quite beautiful. In addition, it represented such a great wondrous mystery to humanity. Indeed-
"Lea, you can observed the crystal after it has entered the examination capsule." Ms. Lee's voice, coming from the other side of the table, sounded a little strained.
"Ah, sure I-" Lea quickly pressed the crystal against the gum-like texture of the capsule. It entered, not quite as effortlessly as Sarah's had, but it entered.
Quickly as to not embarrass herself further, she took the capsule containing the crystal back to Elsanova.
After all the stundents had returned to their seats (There was a bit of a commotion as the second-to-last girl to get her crystal accidentally dropped it on the floor) Ms. Lee spoke up again. "This assignment is done in two parts. First, examine your group's crystal and document your findings. Then, every group has recieved a paper. It contains a very simplified version of a paper on attempts to create Urene by Stromback-Acker. Use them to try to create your own."
Lea couldn't help but notice how Ms. Lee was gently fidgeting as she was explaining this. Lea was starting to feel a very slight twinge herself, and she wistfully wondered if it came as a result of the crystals, or simply her breakfast getting processed into her body.
When it became time to examine the crystals, Lea inserted the capsule into the examination equipment and started fiddling with various levers and latches to turn and zoom in on the crystal. Elsanova was attentively taking notes and occasionally suggesting a turn of this, or a focus on that. They were quite the efficient team.
After about twenty minutes of that, the girls went over the crystal cultivation instructions a few times and got to work. They were to prepare an environment suitable for proto-Urene cultivation and then kickstart it with the small Urene sample they'd been given as well as a given collection of nutrients and minerals.
Lea knew that their chances of producing honest-to-goodness Urene were pretty much zero. These experiments had been done in the past, by individuals way smarter than her or Elsanova, and with cutting-edge equipment. Still, she couldn't help but feel her excitement well up inside her as Elsanova let three drops of the clear liquid solution they prepared fall onto the Urene crystal, causing it to melt into a puddle.
Ms. Lee spoke up as she made her way through the classroom, checking each pair as she went. "You will be graded as a pair, based in part on your documentation of both assignments, as well as your crystal cultivation when that finishes next week. Please place your cultivation beakers onto your shelves when you're finish-ah finished."
Lea felt a little bad. Ms. Lee clearly had to pee, possibly as a result of Lea's previous carelessness when she handled the Urene crystals. She hoped Sarah would get to have her toilet time sooner rather than later.
When it came time to clean up, Ms. Lee, who at this point was grinding her legs together, excused herself and left the room before the students even had time to clean up their tables. Lea hoped, for Sarah's sake, that she had a proper toilet time and wasn't headed to the nearby public toilet. Since it was lunchtime, the public toilet would be crowded, and the queues would probably prevent Sarah from having any time for lunch.
Elsanova snapped her out of her musings. "So, pretty fun class, huh? I'm impressed she managed to get her hands on actual Urene."
Lea kept the conversation up while removing the equipment from their bench. "Yeah, seems like we'll get a good grade too, unless the crystals explode."
Elsanova let out a rather chirpy little laugh. "Yeah, well, see you next week in chem, anyway. I gotta go catch my toilet time before lunch so something else doesn't end up exploding."
Lea and Elsanova went their separate ways, with Lea heading towards the cafeteria and the other girl heading towards one of the restrooms. Elsanova's remark reminded her of Erisa, who she was supposed to meet up with at lunch. She hoped Eri wouldn't be too desperate by now, since there was still about an hour left before her toilet time. She once again felt an annoying twinge in her bladder, stronger than before but still very much manageable. |
The next chapter might take a little longer; I have some exams coming up, and some plot details for chapter 4 are not fully planned yet. Even so, here's:
Chapter 3 - A writhing tangle and a quivering ball
[Major desperation] [Free peeing] [Wetting]
Later, Lea was sitting at the lunch table, chatting away with two of her friends. Erisa was there, as well as dark-skinned Meranda, a childhood friend of theirs.
Or, well, they had been chatting away, but the situation was getting a little awkward. The food was stifling the conversation somewhat, but more importantly, Erisa...
"So, yeah... I-Ah! ah was trying to get some ice for Nngh..." A subtle bang from under the table as her knees shot together. "...for his head b-but he kept squir-nngh Squirming! around..." A few nearby heads turned as Erisa raised her voice, presumably unintentionally.
When everyone around had lost interest and went back to eating, Meranda spoke up. "Um, it's fine if you do what you gotta do to hold it, girl. No-one's gonna judge, you don't gotta pretend you're fine if you're not."
"It'sFineI'mFineDon'tWorry" Suddenly, Erisa raised her glass of Raspberry-flavored soft drink with her right hand and as if to prove herself, she started chugging it like a crazy person. Her left hand was awkwardly situated beside her abdomen and seemed to be shakily edging closer to her legs.
Lea tried her best to salvage the situation (as well as Erisa's bladder) "Er, Eri, it really is fine t-" "AH!" Suddenly, Erisa's face went beet red and her torso started shaking gently. Her legs were separated and her arms were absolutely still at her sides. For four seconds, no-one dared to move and Lea expected a gentle hiss and drip to start at any time now.*pssh!*
As if time had been stopped and then sped up to compensate, a flurry of motion suddenly burst from Erisa's slight frame. Her hands quickly slammed into her panties with the force of a car magnet (Her now mostly empty glass fell to the floor and rolled somewhere away from the action). When her hands had seemingly fused with her crotch, her legs wrapped around themselves several times over, as if to create the cutting edge in Desperate-Girl Leak-Proof Seal.
Lea decided to take charge of the situation before it went out of hand. She quickly downed her drink and finished her food in record time. "So, it just occurred to me that Eri and I have to be somewhere. In fact, I think we're leaving right now." She gave Meranda a bit of a wink to tip her off to her intentions.
Meranda gave her a toothy white grin. "Well, get on your merry way then. I'll see the two of you later, then! I'll get your plates when I leave, don't want to keep you from 'somewhere'" She seemed to have gotten the message.
Lea awkwardly led Erisa's shivering form away from the cafeteria into the relatively more secluded hallway. In the relative privacy of this place, Erisa was not even trying to pretend she didn't have to go anymore. "Gotta.. Mpfh.. Ah.. Gotta peee... It's so full..!"
Lea quickly considered her options. Her toilet time was scheduled for 12:50, which was still a little less than half an hour from the current time, 12:26. Looking at Erisa, that seemed like a very long time indeed. The public toilets were a complete no-go; the wait for those were without a doubt going to be much, much longer than twenty-five minutes at this time of the day. Heck, just getting to the closest one would probably take a while with Erisa's state of body. That left one option; peeing outside. This would be quickest, and might be the only chance of sparing Erisa's panties. There was just one big drawback to it: it was flagrantly illegal. Even so, when Lea looked upon her friend, a writhing tangle of limbs covering a quivering ball of urine, it seemed like their best option.
Gently, she started leading Erisa down the hallway while giving her words of encouragement. Thankfully, it was mostly empty at this time of day, the younger students were eating, and the older ones had classes. Erisa was so focused on keeping herself dry that she hardly seemed to notice where they were going at all.
Getting though the hallway and away from the main school yard area took much longer than Lea expected. Not only was Erisa now moving at the speed of pee-filled molasses, she frequently had to stop and curtsey and once, sit on her heel to press it directly under her skirt.
Lea knew a few good pee spots in the area (What, every girl in this day and age has done it at some point..!), and after a quick calculation, she opted for the bushes behind the A-building; they were closest and Lea preferred to relieve her friend of her pain ASAP.
When they were just making it to the corner, Erisa stopped to curtsey again. She blushed as she spoke. "U-um, go check so no-one's there..."
Hearing this, Lea turned the corner and looked around. No-one. She turned to face the space between the nearest to bushes, but was met with an unbelievable sight.
First, she was met with a pair of shuffling and frantic legs. Then, suddenly: Butt. And not just any butt, but a lovely one at that. Round, but firm. The motion of quickly going into a squat seemed had left it subtly jiggling. White panties were hanging off the left leg. Lea's brain could not compute what was happening fast enough. She spoke. "Bu-but wha-"
Reacting to the noise, the squatting girl turned, her face the color of a tomato. It was Ceel, Lea's classmate. "I-" She seemed to be about to speak up, but before she could, a thundering noise hit the ground. Yellow liquid was splattering on the ground with an unbelievable force. The stream was so great, it tore off the top layer of turn; as if Ceel was digging a hole with her pee.
Ceel's entire body tensed up. Her buttcheeks seemed to suck in against her bones. Once again, she attempted to speak. "I-I, didn't get my late toilet yesterday or my morning toilet and that's fine but then I dropped the crystals on the floor and I drank so much and I was filling up so fast and I couldn't hold it and I didn't know what to-"*Psssssssssss!*
While she was doing her best to keep herself shut, Ceel's body was having none of that. Once again her bladder released waterfall-like quantities with the pressure of a water jet cutter. She couldn't help but loudly moan in relief. "P-please don't tell on me. It was just not possible, I swear."
Lea said nothing in response, instead she ran back around the corner with the speed an oiled lightning bolt; if Erisa saw that it'd spell her immediate, pee-based doom. "So.. Um- actually, there was a person- there andWeCan't goThereBecauseWe'dBeSeen andAlsoIt'sIllegal."
Erisa was giving her puppy dog eyes. "Bu-Ah, Gonna... Going t-ah Haah! wet myself! Did-didn't.. to-toilet! this morning and now..." She clutched herself extra hard. "C-can't hold it...!"
Lea checked her wrist for the time and brought out her riskiest gambit yet. "Let's go back to the toilet, toilet time is in less than ten minutes! I know it seems impossible now but you can make it. Just ten minutes!" That last bit was total fabrication. Lea's toilet time was still thirteen minutes away, so 'less than ten minutes' was optimistic in the extreme.
"L-less than ten..!" Erisa slowly raised her head to face her, and it seemed as though a though a faint glimmer of hope shone through her lightly tear-stained eyes. Lea nodded and tried to put on the most convincing, understanding smile she had. It probably came out a little forced, but Erisa didn't seem to notice. If Erisa wet herself because of this, Lea would feel bad but that'd have to come later.
When on their way back, Erisa seemed to have regained her composure somewhat. She wasn't holding herself any longer, instead she was walking straight-legged and straight-armed with the most stiff posture Lea had ever seen. Perhaps knowing that she'd be able to pee in a toilet soon had a positive psychological effect on Erisa.
However, Lea couldn't shake the impression that the girl's faux-confidence was like that of a student showing up to a test after not getting any studying in; pretending that everything was going to be okay, even though they knew with every fiber of themselves that it wasn't.
Lea opted to take Erisa to the B-building's toilet; it was a little further away than the one in the A-building, but there would be a lot less people walking by right now. If Erisa ended up getting an audience when she needed to hold herself, it could spell disaster.
When they reached the B-building's toilet, Erisa sped up a little, getting her to the toilet before Lea. She turned to Lea, still trying to put on a brave face and failing miserably. "H-how long..!"
Lea checked her wrist. She'd known this moment would determine the fate of Erisa's panties. "...Seven minutes"
Erisa looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her knees buckled together slightly, her hand clenched, then unclenched. It was as though she had been expection those magical words, "Now". It was as though she had been expection to get away without grabbing herself, but now that she had to wait her entire body knew grabbing was the only way out of an accident.
Lea tried to snap her out of it. "Eri! You gotta hold yourself, come, comeon it'll be hard but you can do it I know it!" Lea noticed there was a hint of despair to her own voice. She prayed Erisa wouldn't notice this.
It seemed to work, however. Erisa froze for a fraction of a second, then every part of her body seemed to be moving. Finally, she seemed to reach a holding position that was going to keep her dry. Lea realized she had kept her breath ever since she last spoke, and let out a sigh of relief at this.
Two minutes left. Lea was very happy no-one had walked past them in the hallway, as Erisa would have been giving them quite the show. Desperate girls were a daily fact of life, but Erisa seemed to have forgotten the rest of the world even existed, she was so focused on her hold. Her fingers had found their way past her panties, directly plugging herself against the flow. A least she was facing the wall, preserving what little of her modesty she had left.*Pssht*
"Ah! Lea...! Lea!" At this, Lea tensed. Quickly, she moved close to her friend. She had been facing the other way to give Erisa the privacy to do what needed to be done, but this was an emergency.
"Ah! It's, it's coming...! I..!" Lea noticed a few drops running down the white wall, where Erisa had given them a surprise shower. More alarmingly she noticed a thin stream of liquid running down her friend's pale leg.
"Ah... Hah..! A-at least if I-I-Ah! do it this w-way it won't be in ma-mah pantie-ah!" There was more than a slight hint of panic to Erisa's voice. Lea was starting to panic herself, the toilet was so close but-*Pssht*
Screw it. This, right now, was not the time for any sort of indecision. Lea gently steered Erisa towards the bathroom door. When Erisa was just in front of the door, with Lea just behind her, she decisively raised her hand towards the symbol to open it. She hadn't checked her wrist yet. She knew that if the door didn't open, this would be it. Whispering a quite prayer to various gods she could remember, she pressed.
The door opened.
Giving Erisa an incredibly gentle forward shove into the bathroom, she spoke the words Erisa had been waiting for all this time. "Go."
As Erisa entered the room, Lea was once again relieved that the hallway was empty. Erisa had bunched her skirt up to her stomach, and her damp panties were giving her a wedgie; anyone behind her would get a near-full view of her butt and privates. Lea blushed, and turned her face away as the door closed automatically. |
A magical gnome helped me rewrite the hard parts of this chapter, so it's out a little earlier than expected.
While this chapter includes some minor desperation of the other kind, this series will not feature messing in any significant form. I have no qualms about writing about that type of stuff, but it's just not a big part of this story.
Chapter 4 - Experiments: Day negative one[Minor poo desperation] [Major desperation] [Free peeing]
Erisa's face when she got out of the bathroom was pretty incredible, but after that Lea's day ended up being kind of a slog. Her classes after lunch were really, really dull. Then, she had missed this during Recent History apparently, they had gotten an assignment she had to finish. 'Write an essay about an important event relating to relationship between Earth and the Federation during the early 2030s'. Lea cobbled together a text about the Northern Russia transaction, which ate up all of her time before dinner and more.
"Urgh... Freakin' history. Who gives an assignment like this for their first class!?" Finished with her text, Lea sank into the beanbag in her room. Her bladder was sending her some rather angry signals at this point; she hadn't peed since morning. She checked her wrist for her next toilet time.
21:36
"Dangit, does the algorithm hate me or something?" She cursed inwardly. While she wasn't going to have too much trouble holding it for two more hours, she had hoped she could take a pee soon, and then go to bed early. The adventure with Erisa had been nerve-wracking, and Lea was pretty darn tired.
Besides, 7:47, 12:50 and 21:36? Seriously? Aren't you supposed to get a fourth time certain days to prevent them from being too spaced apart? Nine hours isn't too spaced apart?
Lea opted to just stay in her comfy fluffsack and read a book while she waited. Without looking, she grabbed the one lying on the table. 'Relic Hunter'. Good, that was the one she was reading right now. She felt herself sinking deeper into the beanbag as she flipped to the right page. After a while, the book started feeling very heavy in her hands. She vaguely registered the lights in her room automatically dimming and eventually going out.
Lea was in a queue for a public toilet, the one near the harbor. She was first in queue. Behind her, a huge line of desperate girls and women. They were grabbing themselves, wiggling, massaging their bladders, doing everything to hold it in. But Lea needn't resort to such things. Her bladder was the fullest of anyone here, but it was a fortress of cast iron. She stood proud, maintaining good posture. It felt great.
A cloaked figure exited the bathroom. The public toilet would wait 30 seconds before letting the next person in, but after that it was gonna be Lea.
The girl behind her, a redhead who seemed a little younger than Lea was digging her jeans into her skin with her hands. "P-Please hurry...! I-I can't.." The girl was wearing some rather strange jewelry: earrings and a necklace made from whole crystals.
Lea didn't answer. When the hand symbol next to the bathroom door turned green, she pressed it, then leisurely entered the tube-like building. The inside of the toilet was very clean and smelled nice, as it always did.
Lea bent down and removed her teal panties, exposing her butt. She sat down on the toilet, but didn't pee yet. Her bladder certainly protested, but it felt like she'd be able to hold it forever.
She adopted an evil grin as she squeezed the panties together, opening her hand to reveal they had shifted into a small monitor. Memory-fibers were very useful.
She suspended the monitor in the air in front of her and went to work. Normally, the a toilet (public or not) would kick you out if it detected you weren't using it for more than five minutes. Lea quickly disabled that function. As she assumed total control of the federation-built bathroom, she set the walls to one-way transparency. Now, she could see everything happening outside, but no-one could see in.
"A-ah..! Why is she taking so long.." The woman third in queue was shivering as she said this. She was wearing very fashionable clothes, a red vest over a print tee. Her bladder bulge was jutting out of her shirt and jeans, exposing just a little bit of midriff. Lea checked her monitor. It read: "964 ml".
"I-I can't take this anymore! I-It's impossible, I'm going to explode!" For some reason, Ceel was in the queue, too. She squatted down right in the middle of the queue, exposing her quivering, shaved pee-hole. With Ceel's slightly spread legs, it was possible to see her impossibly distended bladder from Lea's position. "1840 ml"
The splattering, hissing sound of pressurized liquid hitting concrete filled the air. Ceel moaned unabashedly. For the desperate line, that was the last straw. Some of the women simply wet themselves on the spot, or started leaking uncontrollably. Others quickly squatted and yanked their panties off to save the garments.
The only dry girl remaining was the redhead in front. Her bladder bulged out despite her tight jeans. It seemed rock-hard. She started frantically knocking on the door. "C-come ou-ah! of there...! I'm so full..!" Before Lea's very eyes, the redhead's bladder seemed to expand. The girl kept hitting the door with one hand, while manically trying to unbutton her jeans with the other. Lea's monitor started displaying numbers. "797 ml" "846 ml" "896 ml" "950 ml".
The girl was still hitting the door as hard as she could.Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang...
Pang Pang Pang Pang Pang Pang Pang...
Lea awoke rudely to the vicious pounding of her rock-solid bladder. She immediately grabbed herself. When she felt certain she her bladder was back under her control, she relaxed by just a little bit. She checked her morning toilet time.
7:57.
Not too bad. Her body was aching for a toilet at this point, but she'd wait another thirty minutes no problem. Lazily, she got out of her beanbag and started heading towards the shower. The rest of the house was waking up alongside her; lights turned on as she walked though the hallway and she heard her sister shuffling out of her bed.
She threw what she was wearing in the dirty-clothes bin, and set her teal panties aside at the panty-rack. To avoid wetting herself, she made sure the water was hot before she stepped into the shower.
The slightly soapy hot water felt heavenly running down her moderately tone frame. The sound, however was a challenge. It was regrettable, but she couldn't really relax like this. Having an accident was one thing, but not in the shower. Never, ever, in the shower. She repeatedly had to raise her left knee to squeeze herself whenever she got a little too relaxed. The running water made her need attack her in waves.
Eventually, this got too uncomfortable. She quickly switched to pure water and grabbed a towel to dry herself. She checked her panties on the rack and, satisfied that they had finished cleaning themselves, wrapped the towel around herself and headed back to her room to pick out some clothes.
When she was finished with this, Lea went down the stairs to and headed into the kitchen. She found her little sister at the table, glued to her chair and staring awkwardly at her food. "G'mornin' Dot, seen mom today?"
"U-um.. she left for work already." Dorothene Turnstar had a pretty stiff posture to her this morning, and she still wasn't touching her food.
Lea ignored it and started making breakfast for herself, rummaging through the kitchen shelves as she kept her legs locked together. "So, what were you playing yesterday? A new o-"*Pfrrt*
A fairly unappealing odor wafted through the air, offending Lea's nostrils. She looked judgingly upon her sister. After an awkward, quiet pair of seconds, Dorothene defended herself. "I-I can't help it! I was holding it in all night and now there's so much pressure I can hardly stand it!"
Lea kept her judging gaze upon her sister. "And you didn't need to go yesterday evening?"
Lea's bread popped out of the toaster. Dorothene winced and put her hands under her butt. She protested:"I-I... It was a bad toilet time! I couldn't go then!"
Lea sighed in defeat. Her sister had a tendency to get distracted by what she was doing and miss her toilet times. Finding her at home, playing videogames with one hand and holding herself with the other was not at all uncommon. She set her breakfast on the table and started eating.
It was a strange sight, the two sisters sitting at the table in the morning. Dorothene wasn't eating, instead she cupped her clenched butt while red-faced and sweating. Lea was faring a little better, but not by much at this point. While drinking, she banged her legs together and wrapped them around each other under the table.
Every once in a while, one of the girls would check their wrists hopefully. Dorothene was the first to move from her seat. A quick glance at the wrist, and she was off towards the bathroom, holding her bottom.
Lea got a very strange feeling. She followed her sister to the toilet. From inside, she could hear a muffled "pffrt", "plop" and moan (The residential toilets are not completely sound-proof, unlike the others). She double checked the current time to confirm her fears.
7:57
Lea's bladder pulsed. This wasn't supposed to happen. She and Dot lived in the same house, the algorithm was supposed to make sure they wouldn't get morning toilet times this close together. You were given a little bit of flexibility with your toilet times; you were still let in if you were one or two minutes late. She doubted Dorothene would be finished quickly enough, though.
She considered her options, then headed outside. It was still early, and people were getting their morning pees around now. The public toilets should not be very crowded. Lea headed for the one closest to her home in a hurry.
Lea couldn't believe her eyes. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. The line was about twenty annoyed-looking women and girls long. Twenty women was at least a half hour wait, maybe more. She'd be late for school. And while she had been keeping dry so far, she had assumed she'd get to pee very soon ever since she woke up. Her bladder was reaching it's limit, her muscles tiring. Maybe she could sneak a pee outside somewhere?
However, before Lea was able to make a decision, Erisa exited the bathroom, saw her, then walked up to greet her. "Good morning! Are you on your way to school?"
Lea gave her friend a strange look, then glanced toward the queue. "Oh! Yes, it seems some construction has been interfering with the residential toilets of a few buildings in this area since yesterday. I made sure to wake up early so I could make my morning pee today..."
Lea was constructing a plan while on her way to the school with Erisa. She didn't want to admit she was going to find a secluded spot and pee in the open to her friend, not after Erisa's incredible determination yesterday. However, they did not start the day in the same class; Lea could sneak off and pee in the bushes when they separated.
When they made it to the school area, Lea was at the brink. It felt as though the contents of her bladder was a millimeter away from her quivering girlhood. In front of Erisa, she didn't want to outwardly express her extreme urgency, which made her hold even harder to maintain.
As they walked past the school gates, Lea scanned the area for a private location. To her dismay, it seemed like the place was unusually bustling and full of people. When they reached the intersection between A- and B-building, Lea readied herself to make a run for the bushes behind the former, the place Ceel had peed at yesterday.
"Where are you going?" At this, Lea's body tensed up. It wasn't part of her plan. "I-I.. The first class of the day. We're i-in different buildings..?"
"Nope! New schedule since we have Recent History now, remember?" Erisa grabbed Lea's hand and dragged her along towards B-Building.
Lea was wracking her mind. Thrice now, her plans had been foiled at the last possible second. A horrible revelation hit her. She was running out of time. She was running out options. If she followed Erisa to class, she would pee herself before class ended, 100%. She couldn't think of a good excuse to go back outside, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it at this point, anyway.
As they reached the chemistry lab, she suddenly thought of something that might save both her dignity, and her panties. "Umm, ah- actually, Ms. Lee asked me to go check on my-mine and Elsanova's Crystallarium. I'll see you later in class." She let go of Erisa's hand and hurried into the lab.
When inside, she finally had the privacy required to properly hold herself. She quickly opened the cupboard closest to herself with her free hand, revealing sets of large beakers; the same type as the ones used for crystal growth. While making the necessary preparations, her bladder felt like a ticking time bomb. She wasn't sure she even had ten seconds.
Raising her skirt, moving the front of her still-dry panties to the side, positioning the beaker between her lower lips.
And then, she started peeing. It wasn't Ceel's laser-like fire hose. It wasn't Erisa's spurting and leaking. Lea's pee was extremely controlled, in fact, she was practically still holding; only letting the liquid out as fast as she absolutely had to. Still, she couldn't help but let out some stifled squeals and moans. It felt wonderful to finally let go.
When the beaker was about three fourths full, she stopped. She still wasn't finished with her pee, but it was much more manageable now. She took some time to examine the results of her desperate solution. Flipping the beaker revealed a grave error on her part. The label read "Ceel and Fannya"
Lea was horrified. She had ruined another group's science project! In her desperation, she had missed the transparent crystals growing on the inner surface of the beaker. But before she had any time to dwell on this, she observed the strangest thing.
The amount of liquid in the beaker seemed to decrease in volume and color. The urine became clearer until it resembled water with a light yellow tint. Then, the clear crystals in the beaker changed. Their surface cracked and got a discoloration, like rust. The crystals then shedded their coat revealing the new form beneath.
Yellow crystals. Urene.
End of Planet of Desperation, part 1.
An update where I explain the future of this series will be posted tomorrow. It seems something else is about to happen, too.
Edited October 20, 2017 by DerivativeWings
(see edit history) |
This is a section of a story I wrote on fimfiction.net. It is Equestria Girls, of course, so she'll be human. If you don't know who she is, look her up on google image search.
There is more to the original story, I just put the first section in here for people who love a spanking after a wetting.
Apologies if the quality isn't the best. Also, there were three fart scenes which I removed, since I know some people might be turned off by them. If farts are your kind of thing, whether it's another of your fetishes, or when combined with wetting, or if you just find it funny, read the full story here. Though, here I changed the fart after the wetting to... well, it's in the second last paragraph. Here she also gets more extra swats. I also added a bit more detail into the spanking.
Aria Blaze's Wet Camping Trip
Aria Blaze was running through a dark forest. Rainbow Dash was chasing after her. Aria ran as fast as she could, but Rainbow Dash was faster. Rainbow Dash kicked Aria in the butt and Aria fell to the ground, her rear end in the air. Rainbow Dash spanked her again and again. Somehow it didn't hurt but it was humiliating all the same.
Then Aria had to pee badly. She stood up and ran, but Rainbow Dash gave her a wedgie and hung her up on a tree. Everyone at Canterlot High appeared and laughed at her. Aria was so embarrassed she wet herself right there. Then Rainbow Dash manifested her wings, flew up to Aria so that her butt was positioned in front of her face, as if about to fart on her.
Then, Aria woke up. She looked around, and breathed a sigh of relief. This was just a nightmare about the humiliating event that had happened to her two days ago. Rainbow Dash hadn't done that to her again. She'd have no reason to as long as the sirens left the Rainbooms alone.
Aria's relief was short-lived, however. Her pants felt wet. She quickly sat up and removed the bed sheets. She was sitting in a puddle that smelled like pee. Aria couldn't believe it - she had wet the bed.
Aria sat frozen with fear for about five minutes, until she decided to get cleaned up and hope the other two sirens wouldn't notice. Before she could do anything, however, Sonata Dusk burst into the room.
"Rise and shine, Aria!" she said cheerfully.
Aria blushed beet red.
Sonata looked at Aria's wet pants. Today she had gone to sleep in her usual outfit, and she had had another accident in her purple pants. Sonata started laughing hard.
"It's not funny!" said Aria. "You are absolutely the WORST!"
After Aria had showered and changed into a new pair of pants identical to her usual ones, Adagio Dazzle walked up to them and said "We're going camping now."
They packed up everything they were taking with them, and drove to a campsite, which was four hours away. Adagio was driving their car, while Aria and Sonata sat beside each other in the back seat.
"Can't we find a closer campsite?" said Sonata. "This ride is boring!"
"This is the campsite where we came across those three people we saw arguing really hard 20 years ago," said Adagio. "It gave us an unexpected meal and I have good memories of that place!"
"Can we at least listen to the radio?" said Sonata.
Adagio turned on the radio. They listened to some songs, and Adagio wished they could still sing like that, though the thought never crossed Sonata's mind, she just enjoyed the songs.
After about twenty minutes, Aria realized she hadn't used the bathroom before they'd left, and she had drank several cups of soda. She had forgotten they were going camping today, her embarrassing accident had driven it out of her mind. She was very uncomfortable now, and crossed her legs. She didn't want to wet herself twice in one day! Sonata would never let her forget it!
After about ten more minutes, they drove by a city.
"Can we stop at a gas station or something?" said Aria.
"We're not stopping for anything," said Adagio. "The drive is long enough."
Aria knew what she was about to say next would be risky, for fear that Sonata would make her have another accident, but she knew it was her best chance to find relief before she did without Sonata's help. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"You should have gone before we left," said Adagio.
"I'll always remember in the future, but can we please stop now?" pleaded Aria.
"Just hold it," said Adagio.
Sonata giggled. "I hope you don't end up peeing your pants again!"
Aria blushed.
...
It was two hours into the trip, and Aria really needed to go. She was holding herself and fidgeting non-stop. Sonata was no longer paying attention to the radio now, eagerly watching Aria and waiting for her to wet herself again. She considered startling Aria or tickling her, but decided against it because she didn't want Adagio to blame her for ruining the seat of her car.
Aria was in a lot of pain. She had to pee so badly, but Adagio wasn't stopping. She knew she wasn't going to hold it for another two hours.
"Adagio, can you pull over? I'll just pee at the side of the road!"
Sonata looked disappointed.
"I told you we're not stopping," said Adagio.
"But I don't think I'm gonna make it!"
"That's your problem, not mine."
Aria was really fidgeting now. The pressure in her bladder was extreme, and she'd be going for another two hours without relief. She knew beyond all doubt that she wasn't going to make it, but she held it in for as long as she could.
Then, ten minutes later, Aria felt her jeans grow warm and wet. Sonata could see her pants getting darker, and hear the hissing sound coming from her, and laughed her ass off. Aria was blushing profusely as she continued to soak herself and the seat of her car. Her panties were completely soaked, as were the crotch and butt of her purple pants. She hung her head in shame. She had wet herself like a little baby for the second time today. She was never going to live this down.
Adagio could hear the sound of Aria peeing herself, and could smell the scent of urine. "Aria, shame on you, peeing all over my car!"
"Only cause you wouldn't stop and let me use the bathroom," said Aria, still blushing as she finished peeing.
"We wouldn't be in this position if you'd used the bathroom before the trip," said Adagio. "Now you'll have to sit in your pee for two hours."
Aria let out a moan of shame and dismay.
(Two hours later)
The sirens arrived at the campsite. Aria was very uncomfortable for having to sit in her own pee for two hours, and smelled really bad. As soon as she was out of the car, she tried to find a spot where she could change, but Adagio stopped her and put her over her knee, not caring that her pants were getting slightly damp with Aria's pee.
"It'll be a long time before the car stops smelling like piss," said Adagio, and she slapped Aria's butt as hard as she could ten times. Aria whimpered with each swat on her pee-soaked rear, while Sonata laughed so hard she wet her panties, but it was so funny she didn't care!
Aria accidentally peed a little more, and Adagio spanked her ten more times for peeing on her. Once her spanking was done, Aria's face was red with humiliation, her pants were wet, and her butt was in a lot of pain.
"Now, go and change," said Adagio. |
Another Misty story, and another story combining wetting and spanking, for those who love it. I'll try to put more detail into this one.
Also, the other city involved is one that, as far as I know, did not appear in Pokemon, but Digimon.
Don't mind anything that might be stretchy. Just an omorashi story
Misty's Wet Spanking
Misty woke up one morning at Cerulean Gym. Her pajamas were damp, and at first she thought she had wet the bed, but then she realized that it was sweat, for it was a hot summer day.
She got out of bed, changed into her usual yellow midriff tank top and jean shorts, and drank five glasses of water and seven bottles of soda, until her thirst was satisfied and she was feeling a little cooler. She was still a little hot, so she decided to go for a swim.
Before she could, Daisy, Lily, and Violet walked up to her.
"Hey, Misty!" said Daisy. "We're like, doing a show at the Water Stadium in Nerima City, and we'd totally like you to come with us!"
"We'll be like, going in an air-conditioned car," said Lily.
"And it's only a two-hour drive," said Violet.
"Well... all right," said Misty. "But I'd like to go swimming when we get back."
...
They had just left Cerulean City, with Daisy driving, Lily in the front seat, and Misty and Violet in the back seats, when Misty realized she had not taken her morning pee today, for she needed to go. It hit her that all she had drank this morning was going to go through her very fast, and she wasn't sure if she could hold it. If she was going for one of her swims, she'd always pee in the water. She had actually done this more than using a toilet, and wasn't used to holding it for very long. Hopefully they'd run into a gas station along the way.
Misty held it for an hour. This was the longest she'd ever held it, but she had drank a lot more and by now she was very uncomfortable. She fidgeted where she sat, trying to hide her desperation by not holding herself or crossing her legs.
"You look real nervous," said Violet. "There's no need for stage fright. You're totally not performing."
Misty knew she wouldn't be. She didn't often do a synchronized swimming performance with her sisters. According to them she wasn't beautiful and graceful enough for it. But, she was very pretty in her own way - in addition to her other features, she liked to think she had a very cute butt - and she hoped one day she would be able to.
But right now she hoped she made it to a bathroom, for the pressure in her bladder had grown tremendously over the past hour.
Then, they approached a gas station.
"Can we stop here?" said Misty.
"Like, no way," said Daisy. "That'll take like, five minutes out of the drive."
Misty moaned and put a hand on her crotch.
...
Ten minutes went by. Twenty. Thirty. To Misty each minute felt like an hour. Her bladder was getting more full every minute, and she could almost feel the liquid pouring into it without stop. She fidgeted harder, crossing her legs, and sweating slightly despite the cool temperature.
There were plenty of trees and bushes at the side of the road, and she needed to pee badly, so she decided to do the one thing that could spare her a wet accident.
"Can you stop at the side of the road? I have to go to the bathroom."
"Didn't you like, go before we left?" said Lily.
"I forgot," said Misty, blushing lightly. "I haven't used the bathroom all day and I need to go real bad!"
"Just hold it," said Daisy. "We don't wanna be totally late!"
"Um, she's like, sitting right next to me," said Violet. "What if she doesn't make it?"
"Then we'll each give her a spanking!" Daisy winked, and Lily and Violet giggled at the possibility of an excuse to spank their "baby" sister.
Misty moaned in extreme discomfort and fidgeted harder.
...
Misty had never held it this long, but she managed to make it all the way to Nerima City. By now she really needed to go. She was squirming in her seat with her legs crossed tight.
After a very painful traffic jam, they reached the Water Stadium, parked, and got out of their car. As soon as Misty stood up her desperation increased, and she held herself with both hands, running into the Water Stadium in search of a bathroom. As she ran, she could feel waves of pee sloshing inside her.
To her dismay, the girls' bathroom was out of order. She had been so close to finding relief, to have it snatched out from under her at the last second. She whimpered as she leaked a little into her underwear, though not enough to show up on her shorts. She considered using the mens' room, but as desperate as she was, she didn't want anyone to catch her in there. She'd probably wet herself with embarrassment right there.
Misty returned to her sisters.
"Feeling better?" said Lily.
"The bathroom's out of order," said Misty.
"That's like, too bad," said Violet.
"Well," said Daisy, "find a seat and watch our show. We'll meet you back at the car. If you can hold it till then, we'll totally stop at the first gas station we see on the way back."
"I don't think I can make it that long," said Misty.
"You've got like, the motivation to avoid getting spanked by all three of us," said Daisy.
"And, to not totally embarrass yourself in the middle of a crowd," said Lily.
"Can I swim with you?"
"I already said, you're not performing," said Violet.
"Can't I at least swim out of your way?"
"You'd be totally distracting."
"But... I REALLY need to go!"
"Like, pee in the same pool as us? Ew! No way!"
Misty wanted to say she had done it before, but thought her sisters would be more disgusted with her and probably spank her right here. She couldn't see why. The pool was full of chlorine so it didn't really make much of a difference.
So, she made her way to the closest seat to the door that she could find, leaking twice more before she sat down. She squirmed harder and crossed her legs, holding herself and trembling with the effort of holding it in. She felt like she was about to burst.
As she watched her sisters dive into the water, the splash made Misty leak for three seconds, dampening the front of her shorts.
Their show went on forever, and as Misty fidgeted, waiting for the show to end, she was also dribbling, her shorts becoming damper by the second.
Several agonizing minutes later, Daisy, Violet, and Lily finished their show with a big splash - and Misty lost control. She began peeing full force, unable to stop her stream, which only got harder.
*ssssssssssssssss*
The people closest to Misty turned in her direction and stifled a few chuckles as Misty flooded her jean shorts and the seat she was sitting in, dripping down her legs and the edge of the seat and forming a big puddle under her.
Misty blushed with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she was wetting herself. She had drank a lot, and held it for about two hours, but she had never peed in her shorts outside of the water before. Although the relief felt nice, she hung her head in shame as she kept peeing.
Just under two minutes later, she finished peeing, and stood up, sheepishly walking to the door. The crotch and butt of her shorts were completely soaked, and her red panties were drenched.
Misty walked outside and searched for a fountain or some kind of pool, hoping she could take a bath in it and hide her accident from her sisters.
She eventually caught sight of a fountain beside the door. As she made her way towards it, her sisters suddenly walked in front of her.
"Well, looks like Misty totally had an accident in her shorts," teased Daisy while Lily and Violet tried hard not to laugh.
Misty blushed beet red.
"You know what this means," said Daisy. She walked over to their car, picked up some towels, sat down on the fountain, and put the towels over her lap while Violet put Misty over Daisy's lap.
"You're not really going to... OW!"
Daisy brought her hand down on Misty's rear, which stung hard.
"You've been a bad girl," said Daisy, but in a tone that meant she was enjoying this rather than angry, and swatted her again, and again. The wetness on her butt made it seem to hurt even more, and Daisy didn't seem to mind that her hand was getting damp with pee.
Once Daisy had spanked Misty ten times, she stood up and put Misty over Lily's lap, along with the towel to keep Lily from getting wet. Lily slapped Misty's butt as hard as Daisy did, and by her fifth swat tears of pain and embarrassment began to flow down her eyes.
On Violet's turn, Misty peed a little more during the sixth swat, for about five seconds, causing Violet to spank her eleven times instead of ten.
When her spanking was finally over, Misty got down on her knees, rubbing her pee-soaked tush while her sisters giggled.
...
Misty sat in her wet shorts for the entire trip back, feeling embarrassed at her accident and her spanking. She was sitting on three layers of towels, both to protect the seat and because her butt was sore.
Seeing how she was feeling, Violet said "Don't feel too bad. We've all wet ourselves at least once, and we meant nothing by the spanking, it was just a little fun."
Misty just moaned in embarrassment.
"Why don't you go for a long relaxing swim when we get back," said Daisy. "Then you'll feel better in no time. Of course, we might still tease you occasionally."
Misty felt a bit better at these words.
...
Two hours later, Misty was standing in front of the Cerulean City pool. She was still wearing her wet shorts, which smelled funny now after sitting in her pee for two hours. She dove into the pool and swam around, feeling much better. By now she needed to pee again, the rest of her drinks from this morning having gone through her, so she peed in the water where she was, sighing of relief.
Edited October 18, 2017 by The Dark Wolf
(see edit history) |
Author's Note: This is a reboot of a piece of fanfiction I feel unable to continue in the form it currently exists in. Specific in-universe mechanics and overall setting have also been changed - Instead of using Aincrad and the SAO-verse, the story will take place in a setting of its' own - Though one that takes inspiration both from SAO and Log Horizon, as mentioned in the thread title. There may be references to canon characters from either series, and perhaps a rare cameo, but the focus will be wholly on the adventures of one girl and the people she comes across.
Additionally, this story will feature some fairly dark content throughout, both due to behavior of player characters and the mechanics of the rather hardcore Era of Survival game itself - Anybody particularly averse to semi-realistic (Game-ified partially) injuries or combat, discussion and use of controlled substances, sexual harassment (and potentially worse, though mentioned and not shown) and other such dark/mature content would best avoid the story in general - I am writing this is a sort of exploration of what population of players would do if a game world became their own 'real' world, and the real world is full of scummy people and scary situations, and would feel that I am doing a disservice if I did not reflect this in-story.
Finally, as a last note before the story begins proper: I am not particularly reliable at update frequency, though if people show enough interest (And even offer their own suggestions for the story, the plot is not set in stone!) I am likely to stay more focused on updating, else my mind tends to wander.
Without further ado...
Italics is protagonist's commentary, Normal text is the story she is telling proper. [Bracket text is dialogue not in English.]
Era
of
Survival
Chapter - One
"It's finally the day."
Those were the first words to cross my mind as I woke that morning. Era of Survival had finally released after an insane ad blitz that carpeted online and AR media.
The second bunch of words were, "Oh fuck, maybe that rum and coke wasn't a good idea before bed." something followed up by a frustrated shove that pushed soaked sheets and a damp comforter off of me. Though I wanted to dress and head to the store, it seemed I was bound to do laundry and shower first, as per usual. Deciding to rebel in a manner more suited to somebody a few more years my younger, I put it off in favour of getting ready. I wouldn't have dared if Papa was home - I was and still am a weirdo, but even weirdoes generally don't parade around in soaked panties and a gray tee-shirt with a wet patch up some of the back. Half an hour later, rather than the far more likely hour and a half had I stuck around to clean up my bedding, I was ready. For what, you may ask?
To sit my ass down on the couch, stretch out, and pull the VR helmet down over my head. To this day, I still laugh when people tell me they buy physical copies of games.
After a brief initialization, the game splash-screen opened up, and I was treated to some suitably renaissance styled music as the VR proper began in a seamless transition to the game's character creation area.
----
Author's Note: This was a hard one to get off the ground, but I've decided to stick to a journal format to let Naja (Pronounced Naya/Na-ya) get her story across. With every chapter, I intend to expand the main story with additional tidbits, generally in the form of Naja explaining something that happened in the chapter if I can't make the explanation work with the pacing of a scene.
For this first day of writing, I intend to post two chapters and two bonus commentaries, partially to make up for the reduced size of the first chapter (It's cut down from the original draft, but I can't think of much that would work and still let Naja tell her story organically. Of course, the short length is somewhat fitting given certain in-character reasons for her not to dwell on the pre-game events at present.)
---
Commentary - One
It is more than likely the reader is by this point feeling some level of amusement, disgust, or maybe something else - Yeah, I'm talking about the fact I wet my bed back then.
See, there's pretty solid reasons that it happened. Part of it seems to be psychological, though I haven't exactly talked to a shrink about it since I was a kid. Some damage from some hard stuff in my past.
Well, that's not the only part. See, I'm not the fittest, well fed girl in meat-space. This has rather irritatingly carried over in-game - You'll see more in the next part of my tale. Suffice to say that because my 'glorious' northern homeland suffered a teensy-tiny FINANCIAL COLLAPSE, some places were looking a bit more like a third world country than a developed nation by the end of it. Starvation and stunted development does damage to the body, and I'm lucky that I don't have serious liver issues or something as a result. What I do have is a fairly frail and petite frame, not much to the boobs or backside areas, and some weakened muscle groups. Important ones. Internal ones. Other stuff too, but nothing quite so... Relevant to what has happened to me since logging in.
Yes, I have bad sphincter control, for those who didn't pick up on that. This, combined with certain, uh, 'Design Decisions' in EOS means that it will be far more frequently brought up than if I were trapped inside a game like, say... 'Miner-Builder 20th Anniversary VR Edition GOLD', or what have you.
On the other hand, if you ganked me, killed me and are now reading this while I rot somewhere, HAH, you're reading about the life and times of some crazy bitch who soils herself regularly, and I hope it creeps you out real fuckin' hard.
(The rest of this page is taken up by a comic of a girl in hell, in soiled clothing, pointing and laughing at the image of a caricature of a bandit reading a book. Any space not taken up by this is HAHAHAHA in at least four different languages.) |
Author's Note: Due to events out of my control, my original attempt to post again in the same day evidently was sidetracked. I will be making this chapter considerably longer than the last.
In addition, I feel it might be a good idea to mention that unlike most traditional stories, I will be going fairly far into detail about events, and there will likely not be much in terms of quick pacing until the world has been detailed somewhat. I'll try to keep it interesting, though!
Chapter - Two
As the character creation screen coalesced around me, the first thing I noticed was the girl in front of me, or more particularly, her lack of clothing. Reaching out at the character, various menus popped into existence. The first step in character creation, the dialogue boxes explained, was to select a race, then customize characteristics.
Looking back at the nude, motionless figure, it became obvious, at least in part, as to why the game was intended for audiences over eighteen years old. She was... very detailed, to put it lightly.
Smirking, I set to work. A few of the more challenging races caught my eye as I scrolled through the options. Each time I highlighted a new race, the figure behind the semi-transparent windows changed. They were divided by three categories: Basic, Demi-Human Monster, and Monster.
In each category, it read as follows:
Basic: Human, Elf, Dwarf, Orc, Beastfolk - That one had a dropdown menu to select from any of a huge variety of animal features. I quickly decided on a wolfgirl avatar, and the paperdoll sprouted a tail and ears, as well as slightly protruding canines and claws.
Despite having made up my mind, I wanted to take a look at the full array of options - To gauge who and what I might encounter during the game.
Demi-Human Monster: Vampire, Werewolf, Satyr, Harpy, Lamia, Minotaur. Each was represented by a blurb about gameplay differences, and a warning that they may prove difficult, but are rewarding.
Finally, I opened the Monster category, and was greeted by the paperdoll shifting into a rotting zombie - It turned my stomach, to be honest, and it still does now - The other options were as a whole, not much better. Zombie, Skeleton, Lich, Lizardpeople, Slimes, Elemental Spirits and ghosts. All in the same unsettling detail as the cute girl I had pre-selected. I swore the glowing eyes of the undead were staring right at me as I flicked back over to Beastfolk and entered customization.
Boy, was it ever complex. Some poking and prodding simplified the interface some, as moving my hands shaped the changes I intended to make, rather than relying on sliders. All told, I think molding my avatar took something to the tune of an hour, though I can't be sure, time seemed to stand still in that featureless void.
A small, petite body similar to my real one, and some slight tweaks on my own face, but that is where the similarities end. Amber eyes instead of blue, dark gray hair in a short ponytail... And of course the fuzzy wolf ears and tail. Admittedly, I did spend a fair amount of time working on more private areas - No doubt my avatar is perkier than my meat-body, and has more boob to work with, if only by a little. Of course, then came the real fun part.
How many people have ever taken the time to try and edit their naughty bits before? I knew well enough from some, er, interesting escapades in a room with plenty of mirrors, long before the game came out, what I looked like, and I was surprised to find the pre-release body scan had modeled me in great detail.
I'm sure whomever is reading this is delighted to get such an intimate insight into my crotch, but I'll leave the detail to one point. I left a little tuft of fuzz above my... Yeah.
Moving on!
Next came background and starting equipment. This took far less time than shaping my appearance - I read everything there was to read on the various skills that would be available at creation. I settled on making my character a Black Market Alchemist, armed myself with a long dagger and an enchanted pouch full of firebombs, all of the basic alchemy and hunting/foraging gear. The last touch was the outfit. An ankle-length waxed coat, not too different from what you might expect on a plague doctor. Instead of being fully closed, I left it open along the front, showing off the cream coloured plain blouse and the vial bandoliers I had squeezed in for my last accessory. Some fairly plain gray panties were hidden beneath brown linen breeches, and my feet were covered by heavy hiking boots.
Now, it was the moment of truth. I was dressed up, geared up, and ready to begin, but for one thing. A look at the stats and skills allotted to me at start.
I was grinning as I looked through the list. Passable strength for throwing my dangerous cocktails and stabbing things, high dexterity and a fair carrying capacity. My endurance wasn't as garbage as I had expected, and so on.
The smile quickly turned into a frown when I noticed two nearly overlooked values.
Of course my 'difficulties' carried over in to the game.
In a huff, I hit COMPLETE, and the first word uttered to the new world I emerged in was...
"FUCK!"
It drew a couple stares, to say the least. I had spawned into a busy village that had players settling in for the first day. The fresh spawn meant that food and supplies were in relative surplus, and aside from a pile of what I figured were rowdy assholes laying against the side of a market stall, it seemed most players here had decided to avoid murdering every new spawn as soon as spawn protection wore off.
Most of the people in the village square returned to their various activities, though an orc player almost twice my height had walked over with a look of concern. "Something wrong?" He rumbled, no doubt in a voice deeper than that of the player's real self.
I shook my head and looked up at him, feeling my tail wag softly behind me. "Nah, just mad at one of my stats being a bit low." I replied, taking another look around. "I expected a forest spawn. Maybe my background changed that?"
The lightly armored orc nodded and offered his hand. "Seems like it. Welcome to the Friendly Village. It's a working title, but it's caught on pretty well the last few hours, we have a few out-of-towners reporting there are already bandit groups building up in the woods. Rules in town are pretty common sense. Hurt anybody or incite violence and me and a few of the other volunteer enforces will beat your face in, that sort of thing."
I couldn't help but giggle as I took his hand and shook about as firmly as I could with my comparatively tiny one. "I like this place already."
The orc shared a chuckle with me, and gestured to various buildings within the center of the village. "We've got a general store, a butcher, a blacksmith and a healer already set up. Most of the houses are taken or being negotiated for, so you might have to rent an inn room if you plan on sticking around. I've got a patrol to get back to, but... Welcome to EoS."
"Thanks." I replied, and turned and off to take a look at the other colourful denizens of the town.
---
Commentary - Two
For a bit of a clarification, these commentaries are being written long, long after the start of my journey. I have a great degree of hindsight in these parts, and you will generally understand what I mean as you read the older events play out.
Touching on some things in that last entry - Certain things have changed. I won't spoil your reading too badly.
Yeah, I was a little bit of a prude back then. Anybody with interest in my 'bits' and activity regarding it will get their titillation eventually. I would say that I'm not a slut - more an exhibitionist. After all, if you've got your mitts on this diary, you've evidently got some interest or my trust.
Providing you're not the before-mentioned asshole who killed me and took my shit, of course. Let's not dwell on that too much.
The second of the three comments I wish to make here is: I am _not_ the least continent person I have encountered in EoS. You'll meet her eventually if you keep reading.
Third and lastly, I later learned that orc guard's username. You wouldn't expect it from such a well mannered fellow, but his name was Dongus.
Didn't get to see him again after that meeting, unfortunately. You'll find out soon enough.
---
Author's Note: Boy, this one took a while to write. I've been vacillating over how to truly begin the journey, and probably half of the two hour session it took to write this was me re-writing and second-guessing. I've decided to solidify the tone somewhat, and keep most of Naja's snarky remarks to the Commentary section of my updates.
As for the real fun stuff, the omorashi and messing and later sex and so-on, I'm intending to write fairly explicit, but I figured I'd ask the audience for their thoughts on the level of detail when the lewd stuff actually occurs.
One last thing. I'd prefer not to come across as greedy for attention, but my motivation to continue writing does heavily coincide with activity in the thread at times. Part of the time I can get easily motivated, but with chronic depression on my back it can become difficult sometimes if the thread sits inactive. Please feel free to leave a comment if you enjoy the story so far, and I'd welcome discussion and questions. I can even write Naja's responses if people ask a question whose answer won't spoil any plot. - Ask her personal questions, about her background, and so-on, and I'll do my best to get her to answer you.
Edit: If you've followed this story, thank you greatly for your patience and support. You're part of the reason I keep writing.
Edited November 4, 2017 by Darksyn
(see edit history) |
Chapter - Three
Being placed in a town upon login had somewhat messed with my planned order of business. Expecting that I would be out in the wilderness, I had, from the announcement of the release date of game, intended to find landmarks, a water source, and so-on.
Most of these were provided by the village already. This only really left info gathering on the surrounding area. With this in mind, I headed for the inn.
The inn was likely one of the largest structures in the entire settlement, only challenged by the smithy and the manor of the village council. While most of the town had a slightly more ramshackle look to it, these buildings stood out. They were made of finer materials - Plaster and stone rather than timber, and properly shingled, unlike the little homes and smaller shops, whose tops were covered in thatch over the top of bare planks.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, I was greeted by the scent of ale, wine, stew and wood smoke, the sound of a good two dozen people chatting and carousing, and the sight of somebody surprisingly familiar standing behind the bar.
"So you really did stick with dwarf, huh?" I asked the preoccupied redhead, whose attention snapped to me almost instantly as I spoke up. The shortstack innkeep beamed at me. "Aye, managed ta keep her tha same as my art. I figured you'd go fer an elf or vampire, not a wee puppy."
I snorted and pouted at her, though my wagging tail told her easily enough what I really felt. "I'm not a 'wee puppy', I replied to my longtime friend. I opened my mouth and pointed a clawed finger at my pronounced canines, and rapped the claws on my other hand against the top of the bar. "Claws and fangs. Wolf, not puppy."
She looked at the space above my head - Where my username would display if she focused. "Naja, really?" She whispered, leaning against the counter. In the noise, I expected it would be harder to hear her, but my animal ears picked it up effortlessly. "That's... Just your first an' last name smushed together."
"Not everybody has super detailed roleplaying characters to use when they play the game, Sigrun Helmsdottir." I replied, emphasizing her character name. "Viking dwarf with a scottish accent? Truly?"
Sigrun laughed, stepping back from the counter to bark a few orders into the kitchen before facing me again. "Y'see, it's not from a setting on Earth. I c'n do that. On the other hand, y'know damn well I can't rid myself of my accent so easily."
Sigrun, or Agatha, to use her IRL name, is a scottish-canadian. Though, unlike me, she moved after she grew up, rather than being born to immigrant parents. We've always been good friends since I kicked her ass at an arcade years back.
I can say for certain the only things she has in common with her avatar are dark red hair and freckles. Where her IRL body was tall and lanky, her avatar is short and stocky, and that's not getting into how a girl I tease for being thin as bamboo and none too well endowed ended up becoming the curvy and buxom dwarf wearing a fairly snug blue dress and brown apron. I seriously appreciate the changes, of course... But I try my best not to perv on my best friend.
As I dragged my eyes away from her rather distractingly low-necked dress, her green eyes shone with amusment. "Ya get on my case 'bout it, but I see ya checkin' out the goods." She teased. I huffed and tried to rub the blush from my cheeks.
"How long have the servers been up?" I asked, dodging a dangerous line of conversation, "I didn't really check the time when I woke up. Threw the blanket off and dunked the headset over my face."
Sigrun paused for a moment. By the movement in her eyes, she must have been checking her user interface.
"Looks like it's been at least ten hours. You went ta bed around the time they managed to resolve that connection error we were all havin'. Lots a' people have settled in around here in that time, we're lucky a whole guild sync-dropped with their beta builds, or it'd have been utter chaos with folks running about trying ta take as much as they could carry or claim."
"I potentially dodged a bullet, then." I replied with a sigh. "It's damned good to see you around here. You know me and strangers."
"Ya mean I know ye can be a right bitch online if you want to?" Sig laughed, grabbing a tankard from the back of the bar and a jug of wine.
"I like to consider it low tolerance for highly frequent stupidity. Anyhow, I've got a few questions, if you don't mind answering a few."
"Ask away, s' not like I'm supposed to cook in the back, I own this damn shack now. Traded my starting armor and a few deer pelts early on."
"That explains why you get to laze around while the proletariat toil over the fires." I joked.
"Hey, you know me. They get paid equal ta my take o' earnings."
"Answers one thing, I suppose. Anyhow... What's the surrounding are like? Topography, threats, wild game, all of that?"
"More deer than you can shake a stick at, and we're in a fairly hilly locale. Nothin' too steep, but the village proper sits on some old earthworks, or a mine or some-such. Bandits are a problem already. A good dozen small bands reported, and two bastards have started 'Bandit Clans'. So far it's more the robbin' type, rather than the murderin' or, ah... Cruelest type."
"Makes you wonder why they allow that shit in a game. It's what A/O and a waiver gets you, I guess."
Both of us shared a sigh and shook our heads. EoS is a thorough simulation of many things, and not intended for the faint of heart. Considering the psychological impact of sexual violence, it's surprising it managed to get distributed anywhere, though the creators did publish studies on reported rape in the beta, and the effects on players. Some form of protective program takes over if it happens, supposedly - Based on brainwave readings. The details of the protection, I don't know even now, and I've never asked.
"If I see them, I'll set them on fire." I finally spoke up as Sig poured me some wine.
"Amen to that. Were I an alchemist or mage I'd be doin' it too. Axes don't generally tend to be on fire, unfortunately, so I'll have ta pass."
"Sounds suitably dwarven to me. Burning axes." I chuckled, taking a sip of the sweet wine. I've never been one for a lot of booze, but I'm able to appreciate anything at least a little fruity.
Sig's reply was cut off by the front door slamming open, An elven man, bleeding heavily, managed to catch his breath after a moment, and announced...
"It's a raid. Big bandit clan from outside the forest wants weapons and women." He managed to explain, before falling to his knees, woozy from blood loss. A pair of healers jumped from their seats to help him, and I shot a look to Sig, who was grabbing her axe from the display stand it had sat upon before.
"The rest of the guards... We're losing them. Hurry!" the elf begged. Half of the inn was already on their feet and dashing for the door.
I growled, sounding something more bestial than I expected. "Sig, let's go rip them apart.
Sigrun grunted as she vaulted over the bar, axe in her other hand. "Aye. Let's show 'em we're more 'an they c'n handle.
---
Commentary - Three
A grim look into some of the shittier parts about EoS, I know. Up until it became clear what was really going on, even that was still treated like part of a game. One in poor taste, generally, but all the same.
Agatha and I do indeed go way back. It's a longer story than I'm comfortably writing in one section here, so I'll likely cut it up into pieces for the future. For now, my reader, know that while I beat her once at DDR, she became a lot better afterwards. She's said that I bring out the spirit of competition in her.
I'm not sure whether to believe her, or think she's just buttmad about losing to a rude shrimp like me.
Regarding the booze in EoS, it's actually quite good. There's even some fancy alcohols that have no IRL analogue, like certain elven liqueur or dwarf stout.
Lastly, a warning for the squeamish on the next entry. Fighting is brutal, my entry will be fairly detailed. Please keep in mind those monsters had it coming.
---
Author's Notes: A bit of a rambling chapter, but it does introduce one of a few characters that we'll be learning about in more detail. Accidents and the like are in the content pipeline, so to speak - But are unlikely to really occur until after the bandit fight. |
Chapter - Four
The first indication of how fucked the situation had to be the considerable plume of smoke coming from the edge of the village. Even a hundred meters or more distant from the fire, the smoke nearly made me gag. There was no time to gripe about it, though - Sigrun and I sprinted toward the sound of fighting and shouting.
The sight that greeted us was unexpectedly... vivid.
Blood-soaked corpses were strewn about the dirt road, some lying up against walls of buildings. The sight and smell turned my stomach. It only proved more shocking looking up at the melee ahead. Bolts and arrows whizzed into the crowd occasionally, striking the defenders and sometimes fellow bandits. It was difficult to tell which side was which at first - Until I noticed a few individuals I recalled from the market crowd fighting against men with red sashes. A quick eye over the rest of the crowed showed them to be the bandits.
Sigrun shouted something at me, but all I could hear by that point was blood pumping in my ears. Further behind the brutal combat stood scattered groups of ranged combatants. I grit my teeth and snarled, shoving my right hand into my alchemist's pouch while i drew my blade with my left.
"Sig! Help out our guys on the front!" I shouted, interrupting her attempt to snap me out of my funk, "I've got a present for those bastards in the back!"
"Ye can't lose focus like that, Naja!" she protested, "I... I'll join the fray, but be damned careful, 'specially if yer throwin' shit around."
I nodded grimly, and she ran forward to aid our line.
My next actions and the effects are crystal clear in my head still. I pulled a firebomb free from my pouch, Struck the metal seal with my dagger, causing the spark to light the fuse. Next, I took a small running start and threw as hard as I could. The volatile amber liquid in the bottle caught fire as the fuse ran out - The pressure this caused inside the glass flask created a rain of burning shards as it exploded, raining what amounted to primitive napalm over the bandits.
It was a great throw.
As I readied another bomb, that I when I realized I was laughing, despite the screaming my assault had provoked from the burning bandit raiders. It probably should have bothered me more than it did, but as I struck the fuse on my next projectile, I could feel little other than elation that these monsters, these rapists and thieves, were suffering for their actions.
By all accounts, I cracked a little when I heard the screams. I felt as if justice was being served, and the warmth of the cackling laughter I was belting out as my firebomb struck a group of five pushing up to relieve the front line.
I felt the warmth all over... Trickling down my legs and into my boots, too. It didn't bother me in the slightest. A few of the back-line villagers looked my way as they pulled the wounded back. They looked concerned, but relieved by the fact I was on their side.
As I prepared a third bomb, the enemy line broke. Burned and bloodied bandits turned to flee, and those too close to our lines were tackled to the dirt as they tried to break off with their cowardly cohorts and leader.
As the adrenaline wore off, the wounded were triaged and the dead taken away, I fell to my knees. Sigrun rushed over to my side. As I turned to face her, I noted that her axe was slick with blood, and judging by the state of her deeply red stained but intact dress, none of it was her own. I had to turn my face away, however, as the wine from earlier came back up with plenty of acid. Sigrun rubbed my back as I retched onto the dirt, and after a moment, I straightened back up and sat back on my legs, just starting to feel the cooling dampness. Heat rose to my cheeks as I rubbed my face with a scrap of cloth proffered by my old friend.
"Fuckin' hell Natasha..." Sig whistled lowly, "I thought you'd locked up at first, but you went right off the deep end."
I cleared my throat, spitting the acid and bile off to my side. "Yeah," I replied hoarsely. "I... I'm not sure what happened there. I mean... It felt really good to make those bastards suffer, but... I just killed people. Even if it's just a game, those guys are dead and spawning far, far away with shit gear. By all rights, I should feel bad for causing them so much suffering."
"But ye don't?" Sig asked, looking back up at me with a tired smile. "I know whatcha mean, Naja." She paused, turning her gaze down to my lap, where her smile grew into a cheeky grin. "Doesn't explain why yer bloody soaked, though."
My face reddened a little bit further, and I punched Sig hard enough in the shoulder to knock her on her backside, prompting a guffaw from the little scottish jerk I call my friend.
"Subconscious or something." I grumbled in reply, as I was still unsure myself.
"Aye? Yer not the only one, though." Sigrun replied, lifting the hem of her dress discretely to let me catch a glimpse of her leggings beneath her dress. The white was stained a faint yellow tinge, rather than the sanguine red of the blood covering most of her dress. "Was bloody terrifyin', not 'fraid ta admit." She chuckled. I joined in, and plenty of the walking wounded and un-injured fighters and healers discussed the events and the the aftermath. A catfolk girl stopped by as we caught our breath, asking how we were. When she sniffed and smelled the urine on us, she made a quip I think I'll forever remember. "Of course, with a buncha civvies with no training get into a real fight this happens." Pausing for a moment, she turned to face the crowd with her hands on her hips, "The few of us who have previous training before all of this did great. You civvie lot, though... There's enough pissed pants here that I swear to God we're on the yellow brick road."
Plenty of sheepish faces and a roar of laughter rumbled through the crowd, while Sigrun helped me to my feet.
"We'd best head ta the inn heat some water for baths. There's gonna be a high demand for it, I think."
I rolled my eyes, starting off shakily in the direction of her inn. "First for ourselves, and then everybody else because you love money?"
"Ye damned-well know it!"
---
Commentary - Four
Much to touch on, here. This wasn't my first fight, but it was the first time I killed anything or anyone, in any sense. I wish I could say it was the last, but that'd be a crock of shit either way. You get a little deadened to it after a while, honestly, especially in a world with so much constant turmoil.
Of course, presuming you're here with my diary, you've probably killed more than enough yourself.
On a lighter note, this chapter marks the first time I wet myself inside EOS. Less of a big deal than Sigrun, however - Before the game, I don't think she ever so much as had a dribble enter her panties, so all the sweeter to see my teasing friend humbled just slightly.
Oh, and before I move on, I still think those bandits had it coming, same as any violent sociopath I've encountered since.
--
Author's Note: EFFING FINALLY. This update had to be written and rewritten twice due to PC crashes. It has our first little bit of fanservice, as well, for those who are into stress/fear accidents.
*cough* @blooper *cough*
I hope I haven't scared too many people off with the violence. It's not going to get any lighter as the story goes on, at least in terms of how graphic it will be.
I'm intending to keep to a relatively frequent update schedule as I fall into a pattern with writing for this story, so please look forward to an update in the next couple of days. If inspiration strikes, it might come sooner.
Edited November 13, 2017 by Darksyn
(see edit history) |
Chapter - Five
We made our way back to the inn with as much haste as we could manage. Thankfully, we arrived ahead of the rest of the combatants that upon our last glance over our shoulders had still been mostly seated. Sigrun asked a couple of her girls - Some players with less inclination for the violent parts of the game - to heat some bathwater and fill a large tub in Sig's room.
At first, the staff hesitated, likely due to the state of our clothing, but they scrambled to work once one of them - A gaunt looking vampire barmaid - turned with a shrug and headed off to begin. The rest scurried after her.
Not too much later, Sigrun and I had peeled ourselves out of our sweaty and soaked (blood or otherwise) clothing and sat facing one another in the deep tub, with our heads just above the steaming water.
"That was... Something, alright." I murmured as I stretched my arms out, before resting the back of my head in my hands.
"Tha first raid on a permanent settlement, at least in our area." Sigrun replied, keeping her knees to her chest. "Worrying, but not unexpected."
Quiet returned as I stared at the oil lamp hanging from the center of the room, the events of the battle playing themselves over in my mind.
"Somebody needs to deal with the large bandit gangs before they overtake the village." I mused, "I've been logged in a few hours less than you, but judging by the volume of fighters on our side, this village is dangerously poorly defended."
"N' how're we supposed ta fight 'em off 'fore another attack comes in and they take tha village, then?" Sigrun asked, beating her fist against the side of the wooden tub in frustration, "Game just went live, n' we're ta lose our home 'cause of some asshole trolls..." She shook her head. "'If you've figured something out by tha next time I log in, let me know. I think I'm done fer the day."
Her hand raised from the water again, Sigrun attempted to log out via the menu.
"Tha soddin' menu changed." She announced, snapping my attention back to her.
"Changed how?"
"No logout n' option menu anymore."
I quirked an eyebrow and brought my own hand forward as I opened my menu with a thought.
Character | Skills | Inventory | Crafting |Factions
The tab labelled Menu had vanished entirely. A chill ran down my spine. Something was seriously wrong.
"You're... Right. This is bad." I confirmed, "I wonder how many other people are experiencing this."
"Hope ta hell this is a bug..."
Of course... It was not a bug whatsoever.
---
---
Still wondering what the fuck was happening, Sig and I dried off and put on our laundered clothes and began to ask around.
It proved wider-spread than we had expected, which is to say that we figured it was fairly isolated. We were quite wrong. As we continued to question patrons and the rest of the inn staff, discussion began to spread, and a few runners were sent out to the rest of the village, and promptly returned with even worse news.
The bodies of the dead weren't despawning like they did when players respawned in the beta. This, combined with the universal lack of logout availability, started a panic. At first, it was subtle - a tension in the inn and markets where players gathered. It rapidly worsened, however, and in fairly short order, an exodus began from the village. Groups of players following 'leaders', more charismatic than the rest of the population, and promising security and a safe haven far from the village.
As it grew darker outside, more and more left. Some players lone-wolfed their way out, disappearing without much fuss, but others raided the shops of former residents for anything usable before leaving.
Finally, as the sun fell behind the horizon, Sigrun and I were left with the remainder of the population, all crowded around a large table.
Ten players, ourselves included.. A very eclectic collection of characters.
The vampire barmaid was the only one to stay by her side, the rest of the ladies on staff having run off at the call of supposed, 'true safety', along with her were a trio of guards who refused to abandon those who were left behind by the masses of refugees fleeing the village, An elven blacksmith, an orc hunter, and a human man with some magic talent made up the rest.
"Doesn't seem to be much choice." One of the guards sighed, "We've got no chance against those bandits. We killed maybe forty of those guys, and by our last scouting they still outnumber us by thirty or so men. We need to leave, torch the damn place behind us."
Sigrun spoke up next. "Aye, but that'll prove mighty dangerous for whomever sets it all alight." She pointed out, "No doubt when they see tha smoke in the moonlight those bastards will beeline in to grab salvage 'fore it's all gone." Her gaze fell to my end of the table. The mage, and myself, in particular. The only two with the means to set the place aflame in any kind of hurry.
The mage and I exchanged glances. I knew very little about him, aside from some whispers from the vampire before the meeting had begun. He seemed surprisingly skilled with the system of magic, and he had demonstrated a few invocations to prove that...
Of course, considering the eyes Sigrun was giving him at the moment, and what Miss Vamp had mentioned, it seemed a little obvious that I would be the one to turn the village into ashes, alone.
I flicked one of my ears back to draw Sig's attention, and nodded just slightly, before standing from my seat.
"I've got the firebombs for the job." I announced, "The rest of you can haul ass to the East. Once the fires are set, I'm going to bug out to the South. I'll try to break East if I can manage it. Once I get the lay of the land, I'll look for the largest eastern settlement - That's where you'll find me. If I don't show up within a week, I'll find another way to meet with you."
Sigrun winced at the announcement, why for certain I've not been able to tell, as of this writing. Regardless of why, I rounded the table and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Set up a boozehouse wherever you end up, I'll find a way." I assured her. The rest of the table exchanged looks and nods, and stood to prepare themselves.
I left the inside in time to hear Sigrun sobbing behind me.
After that, I didn't see much of them before the mage fired the signal. A half-hour of prep-time, locating accelerant for the fire and preparing jury-rigged devices to light the fuses followed, and the bright mage-light bolt flying overhead and illuminating the square was the last I would see or hear from them in a long while.
Satisfied with my setup for mass arson, I lit the long fuse leading to the assembly that contained the rest of my firebombs, hay, whiskey any whatever else I could throw into the pyre... and sprinted south.
For a while, all I could hear was my breathing, my footfalls, and the crush forest debris beneath my boots. I almost swore my setup was a dud...
And then the firebombs touched off the blackpowder left behind, and there was a great CRACK-BOOM that would have rattled my bones as much as it did my ears, had I been any closer. A glance over my shoulder showed me a black cloud rising from a raging blaze.
I kept running, after that. Despite the tears welling up in my eyes.
--
Commentary - Five
Leaving that damned village without Agatha/Sigrun was one of the dumbest things I've done in EoS, no matter how much better it did turn out for her sake. It made the first leg of my real journey extremely difficult.
Readers may be asking, "Why not get mage-dude to do it in your place?" Why? Because, as I surmised at the time, and learned to be correct later, that's her husband.
Even if he had stayed behind, it would have made things difficult between Agatha and I.
The torch-it-and-fuck-off strategy at least paid off. It drew in more than just the crew of bandits I had fought earlier, but every fucking jerk within a few miles. Turned into a fiery little arena that resulted in quite a few dead bandits.
Remembering this all still chokes me up a bit. Given the realization we were effectively dying 'for real', it was a very stressful and emotional time.
--
Author's Note: Two in one day! That's probably my best record so far.
I did in fact begin writing 45 minutes after my last post, but this took quite some time to put to text.
If anybody would like to 'ask' Naja anything before the next chapter comes, please feel free, I intend to take a little break to get anything that isn't spoilery answered. Consider it like an interview! |
Chapter - Six (Part one of Two)
The next few days were difficult. When the village had been abandoned, most of the supplies were taken by the first to leave, with the few that stuck around longer getting their hands on what was left. No rations, no rope, no tents, nothing left, by the time I ran off.
By now, I was starving. The day of the attack, there was little time to eat, and hadn't even had a bite by the time I had to leave. Thirst was less of an issue. I used one of my starting gear - empty flasks - to take some water from a stream that ran along my path.
I was beginning to muse on the edibility of various leaves and bark, and the headache from the lack of nutrition was making me feel quite woozy.
I snapped right out of that when my ears twitched at a nearby rustle and a wolf leaped from the brush.
I have my own reflexes and the beastfolk racial bonus to thank for not getting killed then and there. I pivoted and leaned back, letting the wolf dash past me and circle around. I drew my blade, and the two of us circled around the copse, waiting for an opening. The gray wolf stared me down, growling and keeping itself low to the ground.
A wave of dizziness washed over me. It must have been something the lone wolf could see, because the next moment I was on my back with my long dagger almost out of reach, and the only thing keeping my throat from being bitten out was my right arm braced against the wolf's throat. I found myself snarling back at it, with a growl of a depth that shocked myself just a little. Not unlike the battle a few nights before, I felt a similar sense of anger, and I swear I was seeing through a red haze. I bared my fangs, and instead of reaching for my dagger, my left hand came down across the wolf's muzzle, and my claws drew blood. Still, it was intent on having me for dinner.
Not as intent as I was on having it. I curled my legs and kicked the wolf off of me, scrabbling against the forest floor with my claws to close in. Before it could recover, I pounced it. My hands forced its muzzle away and kept the neck straight, allowing me to sink my fangs into the throat and tear outwards.
The sound of blood in my ears subsided, and I spat out a hunk of fur and flesh, falling from my kneeling position and on to my backside. Blood soaked the front of my coat, and I was dismayed to realize that in the heat of the fight, I had again soaked my panties and leggings. It was even still warm as I sat there and caught my breath. I wrinkled my nose. Not unlike my previous accident, my enhanced sense of smell made it all the more obvious; the ammoniac smell of urine was hard to ignore.
The taste of wolf blood wasn't as awful as I had expected, but I still spat as much of it as I could, wiping my face on my sleeve as I stood and set about getting a fire ready for after I cleaned my very first hunting kill.
Despite soggy breeches and another episode of bloodlust, I felt pretty good as I skinned and butchered the dead wolf. The process was aided by a system guide function elaborating the process and pointing out things like meat quality and nutritional value, and the removal of the pelt was easier than I had expected, having seen hunters skin animals IRL years before.
It was only minutes later, whilst my meal was making me drool as it cooked over an open flame, that I met somebody that has stuck with me ever since.
"Is there room for one more person?" A soft and feminine voice questioned.
The words shook me from my intent focus on the meat, and I looked around, before realizing she stood off to the other side of my little campsite.
The source of the voice was an extremely pale girl with long white hair, not much taller than me. Judging by how tightly she clung to the shadowed side of a tree, out of direct sunlight, and the blood red eyes with slit pupils, it was quite obvious I had run into a vampire. Unlike the tall, perpetually bored vampire that worked for Sig, this girl looked tired and beat up. She wore a torn and ragged black cloak whose hood had been ripped from the fabric by something, and her clothing beneath wasn't in much better shape. A corset-styled blouse with obvious patchwork repairs and a tatter skirt that just barely managed to keep her panties out of view. Her tights were ripped and practically worthless, and she looked to have been running barefoot.
I wasn't about to turn down somebody looking so ragged, and so , with a blush, I nodded. Before she could get close enough to explain, I pre-empted the question I expected to come. "Sorry about the smell, my dinner just about bit my throat out. I beat him to it, but, uhh..."
The vampire circled to a part of the clearing that had been, before the fire, in the shade. "It was a scary experience?" She suggested gently, sitting down carefully, so as to keep her modesty.
"Something like that. If you like, I have more meat than I can eat by myself, and I don't have time to make jerky or pemmican."
She waved her hand, smiling softly at the gesture."I've had blood already."
A quirk of an eyebrow yielded further detail. "From a trapped animal. You are the first person I have met, or rather the first one that is not hostile."
"Asshole bandits?" I asked, gesturing at her ragged clothing.
"Err, I suppose you could put it that way, yes." she replied sheepishly, "Impolite, brutish and lewd bandits, more precisely. I offered them a satchel worth of herbs I gathered over the first day since my awakening, but they had other things in mind. I have been travelling with considerable haste since then."
"Different level of verbosity, but yeah, asshole bandits." I joked, "I'm out here for similar reasons. Do you happen to know of any settlements nearby?
She nodded, after a moment of hesitation. "Yes, there is one that might have other friendly people within it. I have erred on the side of caution so far and avoided it, though."
My focus darted back to the meat for a moment, and I was lucky to pull away a nicely cooked [Wolf Steak, Well Done], or so my UI informed me. I kept it on the stick I had skewered it upon to cook, waiting for it to cool somewhat before eating it.
"Do they seem like bandits?" I asked, blowing at the the still sizzling steak.
"Not insofar as I can tell. I am... Apprehensive about getting much closer to find out, however." the vampire admitted.
"Well then, if I'm there to back you up, we might both end up with a proper roof over our heads, if luck is on our side. How about it, err...."
"Victoria." She replied, a touch of faint pink gracing her cheeks, "Apologies, I should have introduced myself upon our meeting."
"It's not a problem," I waved it off, "I'm Naja. Nice to meet you, Victoria."
---
Author's note: I'm unsatisfied with leaving this chapter off unfinished, but I'm unwilling to postpone updates much longer, and so this is the first half of a rather longer chapter, and an introduction to an important character.
Sinus congestion and pressure are the bane of my existence, but I intend to soldier on and post the rest of Ch.6 tomorrow. |
Author's Note: After a long, unintended absence, I return to write again!
Chapter - Seven
We waited until just after the sun was obscured by the mountains to continue onward The difference in Victoria's comfort level was obvious, though I wasn't yet sure exactly what effect sunlight had on her kind, yet. She led the way while I watched our backs, or more specifically, hers. her tattered skirt left the better part of her white silk panties on display. She caught me staring eventually, of course, but rather than a huff of disgust, her lips turned into a small smirk and she continued without a word.
The forest was fairly loud that dusk, with insects chirping and animals calling. Both my nose and ears helped me pick out smells and sounds for potential threats, but as it went, the only 'threat' around carried the ammoniac smell of my earlier wetting,the chance for a rash our only real worry.
I swapped positions with Victoria as we drew close to the village. Braziers up in a large squared stone tower cast some light down over the reinforced wooden palisade that ringed the hamlet visible less than a kilometer down the hillside. I could pick out perhaps a dozen structures, the largest of which appeared to be a river ferry platform surrounded by empty stalls.
Victoria shared a glance with me, and I sighed and stepped forward. If these folk were 'NPCs', They would likely not react positively to a Vampire approaching them quite so closely. As we had agreed during our walk, I would be the one to speak with the locals, despite the state of my clothing.
It was hard to hide my blush as I drew closer to the wooden gate, and the two guards loafing around on the outside. The torchlight and what little sunlight remained in the sky still made it plenty obvious what happened. To their credit, they didn't comment, even if they shared a few looks with each other before one of them spoke up.
"Hail, what brings you to our cozy little home, Miss?" he asked, keeping his arms folded over his padded cloth chestpiece. "It's awful late to not be camped out, 'specially with the critters in the woods."
I didn't waste time getting to the point.
"My friend and I have fled this way from a large bandit clan that razed our village to the ground." I replied. It wasn't one hundred percent truthful, but it was a far easier explanation, and considerably less embarrassing in certain regards.
"By the Gods..." The other guard muttered, "That explains the plume of smoke a few nights back. How many survivors?"
Given the hostile wilderness, the bandits, and the number of unprepared players, my mental count was quite low. "I'm not certain on this, but from what I gather, maybe fifty people, if the main roads were blocked. More, if they weren't."
The first guard grimaced. "Where's your friend?"
I nearly mirrored his expression, but managed to keep a straight face. "She's hiding right now, we feared she might not provoke the friendliest response strolling up to a bunch of humans."
"Why, what is she?"
"A Vampire."
The men froze for an instant, but recovered. "If you can vouch that she won't harm a soul here, you can stay the night and pass through tomorrow, but she'll have eyes on her if she leaves her inn room."
Victoria stepped out of the shadows right beside the man, and gave the nervous guard a nod and a grateful smile. He went almost sheet-white, but his hands remained away from his weapons.
"Vicky..." I laughed, following her past the open gate, allowing the less terrified man to lead us onward, "That was mean. Great, but mean."
Victoria replied with the same laugh as she had earlier in the day, the one that made me nearly melt. "Oh, I know. Given their concern about my potential feeding habits, I think it rather fitting to show that I have the restraint to stand next to one of them without tearing a throat out." She replied, pointedly looking at our guide, who gave her a nervous, but accepting nod.
"I wouldn't take you for that sort anyhow, Vicky. You just fed, too." I mused, for the benefit of our escort. He seemed awfully eager to get back to the gate once we had been settled inside an inn room. As a show of hospitality and thanks for the warning, our room was rented out to us free of charge, and a terrified young barmaid dropped off a wooden tray with a pair stew-filled bowls. There had been quite the clatter as she made her way in, and to my amusement, Vicky's words of thanks to the barmaid prompted a squeak, and I managed to pick up the brief hiss of a spurt of pee dampening the poor girl's panties., thanks to my fluffy ears. It was even more obvious as she turned and scampered off, as my canine nose caught the scent. At least, if I was stuck with the same curse my IRL body was struck with, I would be more aware of others suffering similarly. The thought was actually quite enticing, to my surprise at the time. [1]
---
The stew was fantastic, though it took a while for me to finish. Victoria, surprisingly, had dug into it with almost as much gusto.
"I thought you only really fed on blood." I mused as I flopped lazily onto the bed, discarding my coat haphazardly, leading to a 'whumpf' as the heavy garment hit the floor.
Vicky shook her head. "It's merely a part of my diet that I require to stay healthy and in-control, much as you require meat more than other foods."
"Shit," I muttered, "I hadn't realized that. My diet before all of this was different, uh, back in my world. At least I've always been a fan of meat. I can't imagine having to drink blood to stay healthy."
"It is less unpleasant than you think." Victoria replied, amused, "Though, it does provoke particular situations more often than not..."
I rolled over onto my side, and caught sight of the faint blush upon her otherwise porcelain cheeks.
"You're gonna have to tell me about it sometime, if it gets you flustered."
"Perhaps... But you may need to earn that." She replied simply.
I pouted and blew a raspberry back at her as she crawled up onto the bed, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, and her arms wrapped about them. While I was getting a bit tired, she seemed to be showing no sign, and was practically volunteering to keep watch in case the villagers did something drastic.
That was good enough for me, and I drifted off into dreamland.
---
Commentary - Seven
[1] - Yeah, as it turns out, I'm a weirdo-wolfgirl who enjoys putting myself into states of toilet distress, seeing girls in various states of the same, and a few other related activities. Not the kinkiest shit I've heard of, but it took me a while to come to terms with it. I figured back IRL that it was coincidental when I was aroused after, say, waking up in a wet bed, but as my time here in EoS continued on, it became rapidly apparent, and that poor barmaid was the catalyst.
So, yes, If you're still reading along, person (people?) who have picked up this journal, you know what to expect.
It does not get any less kinky, I do not skimp on details. Hell, after this point in the original entries, I started paying more attention to my body and those of the cute girls around me. If you're into the same sort of things, enjoy. If you're not... Why the fuck are you still reading? I expected to scare you off when I told you I frequently ruin my panties, weirdo. -Naja |
Chapter - Eight
Sleep lasted only a couple hours, unfortunately, as once the village began to chatter about our arrival, a group of 'concerned citizens' had come together to 'keep the town safe.'
This boiled down to a couple of loud-mouthed men demanding we be barricaded inside until a sorceress living nearby could vouch that we would not bring harm to the village.
How did I know this? The shouting woke me up.
So I laid with me face in my pillow, pushing it over my ears to try and blot out the ruckus outside. Victoria had moved from her position the night before, and now paced back and forth, quietly.
"Figures." I grumbled, "Overrule your own guards via mob rule. They seriously have no idea how dangerous it could be for them. Superstitions and racism. If we fight our way out, we're the bad guys."
Victoria sighed in reply. "I should be able to get us out of the room and onto the ferry once the sun goes down again. Much as I hate to suggest such a course of action, if we wish to put distance between the mob and ourselves, or the bandits from your village and ourselves, we will need to... commandeer one of the platforms."
I rolled over to face her and shrugged, lazily observing what she was up to.
She was pacing, of course, but she did appear somewhat distracted. There was no sign of sweat, or other more overt sign, but from long personal experience, I had an idea of what was going on.
"So, you do go to the bathroom, then?" I ventured, figuring her occasional pauses mid-step indicated some kind of cramp.
Victoria stopped, and looked at me as if I had grown another head.
"Of course!" She snapped before catching herself and replying more softly, "Why wouldn't I?"
"Uh, I figured magic made that kinda pointless for vampires." I replied sheepishly.
Victoria sat herself down on the edge of her bed, just across from me. Her thighs pressed together hard, and she eyed the jammed door menacingly. "You have ascertained my situation, I gather? Yes, I do quite badly require a place to relieve myself."
It seemed it wasn't an easy admission for the red-eyed girl, as a hint of pink graced her cheeks.
"Mm. And we're stuck in a room for a few hours with no real place to go. My canteen is out, thanks, I drink out of that. There's the empty stew bo--"
"No." Vicky interrupted, cold as ice. I snorted at the reaction, unable to help myself.
"So, given that there's nowhere to go, what will you do? I mean, my pants are already pretty bad, so I don't really see any reason not to let go if I need to."
Victoria shot me a puzzled look, and I decided to clarify. "Think it's weird? Well, this isn't the first time I've been caught short. It happens plenty, actually. Best to tell you now if we travel together for a while, I guess."
I straightened up and scooted down my bed, lining up across from her, with my legs crisscrossed up on the sheets. Despite her stiff posture, she seemed to be growing more curious as I continued, and her annoyed frown had melted into curious expression.
"Back in my world, and according to my, uh... Status magic, as well as personal experience, here as well, I have a couple teensy problems. Mostly related to certain functions of my body. It's more than that back home, but my body here is healthier."
She nodded along as I spoke. "Functions such as...?"
I coughed into my hand, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks. "At home? I had issues with, uh... You'd call it sugar fever." [1] I held up one finger as I continued to list it off. "Next, I have, err... Had, at home, issues with fatigue. The medical jargon probably means little to you, so I'll spare you." I held up another finger, "And finally, the particularly important one in this context. Parts of me didn't grow up right, or did and are too weak. This translated into some of my abilities and 'stats' here in this world, as well as... I'm not very good at keeping it in when I need to go to the toilet." I finished.
Victoria's expression was one of surprise and empathy. "You sound like you were quite frail. Your sugar fever doesn't ail you here, though? Nor your poor endurance?"
I shook my head, grimacing. "Yeah, I just end up washing my clothes more."
The vampire looked thoughtful for a few moments. Before I could inquire, she nodded, and spoke up. "If that is the case, I intend to wait it out. If I cannot wait any longer, I do not imagine you would hold any resultant... issues... against me, would you?" She stated carefully. Her cheeks were bright red now. For me, it might be lightly embarrassing but unfortunately regular, but it seemed to be much harder for her to even consider.
"Well," I giggled, "I would be a massive hypocrite if I got on your case. I mean, I haven't had dry clothes since you and I have met, for fuck's sake. Yeah, I'll keep it hush-hush. I'll even make us some soap later once we give this potential lynch mob the slip."
Her tense posture relaxed somewhat, though she was still sitting quite stiffly. It was hard to determine just what she needed to let out, and the potential had my mind dreaming up potential scenarios that only served to work me up. I was holding up far better myself, but I had no illusions I'd leave the room smelling of roses, one way or another.
Time dragged on, and I took to unpacked and repacking my tools and scavenged materials into a more comfortable setup, trying to optimize space as much as possible. Victoria lacked any real gear, and so seemed to occupy herself with watching. She occasionally asked about a herb or flower, and I relayed what information I could. I was glad there was no clock in that room, or one of us would have battered that door down and fought the mob just to end it, I have no doubt.
The sun hung just over the mountaintops outside of our cozy prison. We were in the last stretch. My dinner from before had caught up with me now, and Victoria was not alone in her discomfort. She, by far, seemed the worse off. It became apparent that the vampire did not sweat, but the rest of the telltale signs were there. At this point, despite her resolve, she had given up on trying not to hold herself, and did so openly, with one hand pressed hard against her groin, and the other braced against her abdomen. Her breaths were short, and it was obviously painful. I really felt for her - I've never truly been able to hold on long enough to end up in that level of discomfort. [2]
It was pretty obvious by now that she wasn't going to make it. The thought was a fun one - but I felt guilty that I was enjoying her suffering.
She didn't have to wait any longer. Even from across the room, I heard the rumble in her gut that turned into a fart... Which very rapidly shifted into a wet, burbling noise as the contents of her overworked bowels pushed their way out against her will. She had doubled over, both hands now holding her stomach. I couldn't get a good view of the back of her panties as it all unfolded, but I did see the mush spread and stain her silk panties. It crept forward as it spread out across her backside... Until it stopped. Victoria looked up at me with tears in her eyes, and I gave her a sympathetic smile as she caught her breath. Judging by the fact she had held her stomach and not let go, it seemed that it was still troubling her. She blinked the tears away and leaned forward, giving a push with a muffled grunt of exertion.
The mess continued to grow now at a rapid pace until her guts finally seemed to calm. Her panties were wrecked - As she stood to survey the damage, they tried to slide down, kept in place only by her quick reaction. The entire rear was quite heavily weighed down, and the staining made it obvious that the muck had covered most of her ass, crept up between her legs, somewhat, and threatened to leak out the legs of her panties.
Victoria finally spoke up, with a quiet, "Sorry, I could not wait." I waved her apology off and stepped over to her side, giving her clap on the shoulder.
"Nothin' to be sorry about." I replied. Oh, if only she had known how glad I had been to see such a thing. Going by the slickness and heat I could feel between my legs, I was beginning by then to understand my feelings about toilet activities, and just how much fun it was to perv in that manner. [3]
As the sun vanished behind the mountains, Vicky's eyes flared, and she grabbed my wrist, holding up her panties with her other hand. In a blink, we had phased through the shadows and crossed the village to the ferry. As she scrambled to get behind something, I made myself useful and pushed the ferry off, before securing the floating platform to the taut rope hanging from riverside poles and beginning to crank the wheel to move us upriver. It was slow going to start, but once I got the hang of it, we made good time away from the village. I could jam the barge in place if I needed a break, but given the distant shouting coming from the mob, I decided otherwise. Vicky, on the other hand, sat herself down, out of breath. She still hadn't had much time to catch it post-accident, and as she mentioned later that night, our escape had taken further from her stamina. She didn't pay any attention at all to the further damage it did to her panties, and after a few moments, decided to simply lay back and close her eyes while her energy slowly returned.
I was content to ogle her in silence, and if the glimpse of a smile and a red eye were any indication, she didn't object, either.
Commentary - Eight
[1] - Old time-y way to describe diabetes. I don't miss insulin injections, I can tell you that much.
[2] - Usually one end explodes far before I can manage it. I've tried the 'hold longer to train yourself' thing. Didn't work.
[3] - It is indeedily (Is that a word?) quite fun to perv this way. By the time I wrote this entry, I had already witnessed a few more delightful situations.
Author's Notes: Boy, this one took a while to write. I hope the first true desperation accident (and first messing period) were to the liking of my readers. Feedback is appreciated. More descriptiveness/detail? Less? Let me know. |
Chapter - Nine
Dragging the ferry against the current was hard work, but given the hostility back to the North, it was worthwhile to keep going. As I cranked us up along the long guide rope, Vicky began to recover somewhat. It took some time, and she remained a bit sluggish, but she eventually propped herself up. Her gaze was focused downward, to her ruined panties. The strips that made up what was left of her skirt had been soiled as the mess spread, and she heaved a sigh as she looked the rest of her tattered clothes over.
"I wasn't kidding about that soap, by the way." I comforted, "It might take a good scrub, but those panties should be fine. I even have most of the materials for soap right now. I just need to know what flower you'd like the scent of."
Vicky looked back up at me with a bright smile that made me feel a little weak in the knees.
"Thank you, Naja. You have been so considerate and generous," she answered, "Would... Would lavender work?"
"That it would!" I replied cheerily, feeling warmth rising to my cheeks from her compliments. "Once we reach the next platform, I'll cut the rope and we can set up camp near the bank so I can get started." My vampire companion nodded, staying silent for the moment, until she spoke up with a look of curiosity.
"The weaknesses in your body... Is it simply your waters that give you difficulty?" She inquired, glancing down at my faintly stained damp breeches.
I chuckled sheepishly, feeling my tail drop down between my legs and my ears flatten back. It was embarrassing to spell it out, but...
"No, I end up in your state too." I replied, trying to stifle the blush creeping back to my cheeks, "I might yet if the next stop along this line is too far off."
I wasn't kidding. A look into my stats menu via a few flicks of my right hand showed my status menu clear as day.
It began with my name at the top of the window, tracking for my nutrition, my relative energy, and near the bottom of the list...
' Bladder: 259/550 units, Bowels: 681/750 units '
It was one thing seeing it quantified into units, but entirely another to know that it coincided with how it felt to be that full. Both stats, according to the extended information tool-tips were rather low, but not the worst possible - Something I was thankful for. [1]
"What are you doing?" Vicky inquired, distracting me from the distressing numbers and growing weight in my gut.
"The hand gestures? Uh, I suppose you could call it more of the magic that allows me to better examine how my body is doing." I replied, "It gives numbers or a visual indication of certain things. How hungry I am, how much water I need..."
"How badly you need the toilet?" Victoria grinned, "That does sound useful... You must have a good grasp on when to 'go' before meeting with others." She mused, "To better avoid needing to, ah, excuse yourself from most activities."
"I wish." I groaned, smiling despite myself, "Nah, it sneaks up on me pretty often. I've lived with it long enough that I just make do."
"Resulting in frequent, ah... Accidents? You have my sympathy." Vicky giggled softly. I didn't blame her, it was a fairly amusing result, if occasionally inconvenient.
'it's not that bad...' I mused, thinking back on my more recent thoughts on the matter.
Red eyes widened slightly, and the somewhat stunned and confused expression made me feel like a rock dropped in my gut.
"Did I say that out loud? Ffffffuck."
There was a long pause.
Victoria raised an eyebrow, gesturing for me to continue my train of thought.
"Well, it, uh..." I stammered as I felt my tail dipping down once more and my cheeks burn hotter than they had in recent memory, "I mean... You're not going to burn me at the stake or anything..." I mumbled, provoking a real laugh from Victoria. The combination of the butterflies I felt, the need for the restroom, and the dread I felt for revealing such private thoughts all came together to make me feel like I was nearly about to have an accident from sheer embarrassment.
"Of course not!" Victoria managed to reply after taking a moment to catch her breath. "You did not attack me for who I am, you did not judge me when I was unable to hold out any longer, the least I can do is hear out your... Unusual line of thought."
I grimaced. It wasn't something even I had that much of a grasp on, yet.
"Well, you know, it doesn't feel that awful. The uh, results of the accidents, I mean. Or having them, I guess." I stated, "At least, in my opinion."
Vicky hummed, tapping her chin as she shifted in her seat. It had not been that long, and the mush in her panties had not likely cooled much.
"I suppose you're not wrong. I do feel a considerable sight better now that the pressure is gone, and even if it is an unusual sensation, I cannot say I am repulsed by the feeling." she mused aloud. I felt a considerable weight vanish from my chest, and let out a breath I didn't realize I had held.
"Y-yeah... If it feels better, why not enjoy it?"" I ventured.
I couldn't believe I was admitting to such a thing to such a gorgeous girl - Especially one that seemed to enjoy my more perverted attentions. It made me feel a bit dizzy, though I tried my best not to let my apprehension show.
Victoria seemed to put two and two together, and her look of curiosity melted into a smirk full of mischief. "I knew early on that you were interested in women - Or at least myself," She revealed, "You piqued my interest as well - You are very unusual in a great many ways."
"My oh my," she continued, "It is no wonder you did not hold my predicament against me - You must have thoroughly enjoyed it." she surmised, sending me a knowing wink.
I whimpered softly, feeling like I was going to melt into a blushing puddle of embarrassment.
"How dirty! How lewd!" She teased, standing up and stepping over to the other side of the rope assembly. "You know, I had been musing on making a move before, but now? You are a cute, chivalrous little puppy with a naughty secret. I know the way you look at me - If you wish to touch, all you must do is tell me the truth."
I blurted out my response with no thought at all. "I would really, really like to sleep with you... And much more than that, given the chance."
Victoria raised her hand to scratch behind my left ear. My shoulders sagged, and she ran her finger down along my jawline, before giving my a tap on the nose. I shuddered - her hand was warm, but I could still feel an unnatural, likely magic coolness.
"That can be arranged, on the condition that you share more about your dirty little secret, and continue treat me with the care you have so far. That is all I ask in return."
"In a heartbeat." I replied eagerly, feeling my heart pounding and my body heating up. I had figured vampires would have some of their traditional sex appeal as part of their traits, but experiencing it in person was a whole other ballgame.
"It is settled, then." She replied, sauntering across the platform. She kept a hand on the waistband of her soiled panties, teasing me with the sight.
My eyes moved from her backside to where she began pointing however.
"We're at the first platform." She announced, turning back to face me with her hands on her hips. "I'll moor us, if you can get us close."
Despite my relative exhaustion from the constant cranking, I nodded vigorously, more than eager to get to whatever Vicky had planned once we set up camp.
My gut rumbled ominously, but right then, it only made me smile wider as we pulled in and stepped off the platform. I drew my blade and cut the rope with a few solid hacks, letting the raft wash downstream, before turning to Vicky, who beckoned me toward a copse of trees.
I wasn't gonna keep her waiting.
Commentary - Nine
[1] - The minimum values for each are quite small, and various other stats can end up rendering somebody incontinent if they're unlucky or debuffed enough. Average values for each are Bladder: 750-875, and Bowels : 800-1000. That puts me at a pretty abysmally weak bladder, and my guts can't handle very much either.
As a more general commentary for this part...
Yeah, this is how Vicky and I hooked up. I'm not really ashamed to admit it - She can turn me into her puppy with a few choice words and an ear scratch. Of course, I certainly ended up introducing her to some fun things, and it doesn't take much for her to want to jump me nowadays.
Not that I'm complaining!
Author's Note: I've considered and reconsidered on the subject, and I think I will be posting explicit sexual content after all. My thoughts on the matter are, with how I've ended up writing Naja so far, and how important things like her kinky and sexual exploits would be to her, that it would be remiss to not include them, given that the story is supposed to be like her journal.
Oh yeah, and a second thing is, if it's not obvious, if you're not into characters who actively enjoy accidents and related things, Naja and Victoria will be somewhat of a disappointment. Other characters will have different opinions on it, and will experience their own desperate and fear accident situations, but our protagonist and her girlfriend are pretty kinky.
Won't stop them from having accidents at inconvenient times, or when they can't take the time to enjoy it, of course.
Let me know what you think about all of this! |
Chapter - Ten
The short walk into the secluded clearing Victoria had spotted felt like an eternity.
My patience, however, was quickly rewarded - As I stepped forward into our hiding spot, Vicky made her move.
I found myself pushed up against one of the trees, and before I could even speak, I felt her lips against mine. It was forceful, almost needy, and once I processed what was happening, I returned it with interest, nipping and nibbling at her lips.
I heard a throaty growl as she broke from my lips to trail kisses along my jaw and down to the nape of my neck while I panted and whimpered.
It seemed she had other plans, however. She had me pressed against the tree with both hands clamped over my wrists, but her grip vanished as she pushed my coat from my shoulders.
I didn't waste any time busying my hands, reaching up underneath Victoria's blouse with my left and pulling her closer with my right. As my hand brushed against her skin on the way up to her chest, I marveled at how soft her skin felt, and noted the same unnatural coolness that I had felt from her before was mixing with a paradoxical heat. My hand found purchase around her right breast, and the rough flick of my thumb against her nipple prompted a muffled moan as she bit the side of my neck in a show of approval - Not enough to draw blood, but certainly enough to leave a hickey.
Of course, with her pressed tightly against me, and with herself with her defenses down, I repaid her in kind as I felt an animal growl rise from my chest. She gasped and pulled back, leaving us nose-to-nose. I saw passionate lust in her eyes, and it seemed our little exchange of nibbles had triggered some primal vampiric instinct. Her pupils had constricted, leaving them look almost feline or reptilian, and she panted hard, nearly shaking in excitement.
This left her open.
With the same degree of lust she had shown forcing me against the tree, I pushed her to the ground, prompting a squelch from her panties, and held her arms down, digging the claws on my left hand claws into the grass and dirt underneath her arm while I used my others to cut away her tattered blouse, exposing her breasts to the night air. Now that I could truly catch a good look at them, it was obvious that she had me beat in the bust department - My own barely managed a B-cup, compared to Victoria's full, perky Cs with her currently rock-hard pink nipples.
They were inviting, an invitation I accepted in a hurry as I leaned down and took one into my mouth, suckling and teasing with my tongue.
My hand had not stayed idle after cutting her shirt open, either - I had darted it downwards and gripped tightly at the waist of her disgraced panties and tugged hard, pulling the fabric taut against her crotch, giving her a moment to relax as my grip slackened before repeating it again.
"Mnnn... Haa... I think I like... This part of you!" Victoria panted, chuckling breathlessly, "But... There's more you can do."
"Mmm?" I responded, giving her nipple a light nibble just to further tease her.
"You are holding it in." She replied, squeezing her eyes shut as I tugged at her panties again. She just barely bit back a moan.
It didn't take even a second for me to get what she meant, and as I finally pulled away from her chest and sat up, she propped herself up on her elbows while I untied my breeches and shimmied them off of my hips and down to my knees before kicking them off and straddling Victoria again, this time backwards and on my hands and knees with my tail wagging happily.
If she wanted me to let it go on purpose - Something I had never in my life done before, she would get front-row seats. I craned my neck down and looked back at Victoria, noting happily that the front of her panties seemed to be quite slick - Something I imagine she noticed about the gray fabric that clung to my own pussy.
All of it seemed to suit her fine, judging by the hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties.
I grinned at that. "You called me dirty for enjoying you crapping your panties, and now you ask me to do it on purpose? Sounds like a certain hypocritical somebody has picked up a new kink."
Victoria giggled softly. "I am unsure what definition of the word 'kink' you are using, but I am most certainly enjoying the idea so far. Do please continue."
It took a moment to convince my body to do so, but I bore down and pushed hard. With how fairly urgent it had been, I wasn't surprised by the immediate results. I felt the solid mass push out in the form of logs, tenting out and then weighing down the seat of my panties. The force of my pushing also brought forth a gush of pee that spattered to the ground and against Vicky's thighs.
I have had many accidents in my life, but for the first time ever, I was doing it of my own volition.
For Victoria.
The idea made me ache, and before I realized what I was doing, I was touching myself, feeling pee wash against my hand as I kept on going.
My bowels were by no means done yet, and the second wave pushed the stretchy fabric further, causing the bottom of the leg holes to sag away from my thighs.
My eyes were shut as I focused on emptying myself, but I could hear Victoria panting and moaning, and the slick sounds of her fingering herself. As the last of my bladder emptied, I joined in the fun, bucking my hips against my hand as I ground my clit against it, and as my middle finger slipped inside.
My other arm gave out only minutes later, as Both Victoria and I teetered on the edge, her cries helping to push me over the edge as I came forcefully, soaking my panties further with the resultant gush of juices. [1]
Victoria cried out moments later, a scream muffled by the hand she had forced over her mouth, before pulling it away as her whole body trembled.
We remained that way for a few minutes, catching our breath. It must have been quite the show - my ass and ruined panties hanging in the air while I rested my head on my forearm, because after a short time, I heard Victoria begin to laugh.
"Oh, Naja... This is definitely worth exploring further." She managed between bursts of giggles, "You do have a lovely backside, I think this accentuates it nicely." She teased.
Despite how brazen I had been before, I felt almost as if my whole body was blushing as I realized the gravity of what I had done.
I whimpered softly. "What have I gotten myself into?
"A very interesting and special relationship." Victoria replied, still laughing.
Commentary - Ten
Welcome to the first of a number of fun encounters I decided to record for later, uh, enjoyment. Not quite sex entirely, this time, but lewd enough, huh?
Not much more that I can say, aside from that this is a fairly standard example of what you'll be reading later.
[1] - And yes, I am a bit of a, uh, squirter, much to Victoria's amusement and delight.
Author's Notes: And in the Tenth Chapter Darksyn said, "LET THERE BE SMUT!" and there was SMUT. I hope it is of sufficient quality for my readers!
The story did take a backseat for this chapter so that Naja and Vicky could fool around, but in the future, I hope to include lewd scenes within chapters that do move the story along as well.
If some of what the characters get up to is a bit much, I can put in warnings. There is a list of kink stuff that may end up in scenes in the story that I will post a short time after this update goes up. It's not -too- bad (No forum rule breaking stuff), but there is some stuff that some readers might not enjoy or potentially be grossed out by. |
This is a story I came up with and wrote in a few hours. I have always read stories and here and enjoyed them and I hope you too can enjoy this. Please be sure to leave any feedback on my writing. Thank you.
Chapter 1:
Evelynn was a 31 year old latina entrepreneur/business owner. She thinks back to just a couple years ago when she opened it, her employees were driven and motivated and that lead to the success of their products. Thing had been going great, she was running one of the only successful businesses run by a latina or even a woman. This didn’t last long though, as the company grew, people became more lazy. Cutting corners, showing up late, turning in assignments late. This caused her business to falter, just last month they had to recall thousands of phones due to a simple error that would have been prevented had her employees paid enough attention.
The wind blew through the marginally opened windows as Evelynn contemplated what to do. Both she and her parents had worked hard to get this company off the ground. From working late nights to taking various jobs to raise money. She couldn’t possibly let it all go just like that.
The sound of her secretary brought her back to reality, “Ms.Velasquez, would you like to take your lunch break now?” Checking the time, she noticed it was 12:01 PM and sure enough she was hungry. Accepting the offer, she stood up and made her way to the door deciding on what to eat. Her friend Mary asked if she wanted to have lunch via text knowing that this was around the time she had her lunch break. Wanting to talk with someone, she agreed.
The clank of her heels accompanied her as she made her way to a new mediterranean place her friend was talking about. The wind howled on this unusually dark day, and she sped along not wanting to get caught in the rain. On this particular day she was wearing jeans that fit her curves and a white blouse. She had tattoos on her right shoulder and stood at 5ft 4in.
Once another couple minutes passed, the view of the restaurant came into view. It was small, and modern, with plants along with mini waterfalls distributed thoroughly through the area. She sat down across from her friend excitedly after not seeing her for a couple days.
As Mary noticed her friend a bright smile encompassed her face. “How are you?” Mary questioned.
Evelynn then began explaining everything that's wrong with her company and the prospect of going bankrupt. Mary being the good friend she is, listened intently. Once things were quiet Mary had an idea.
“Maybe you could get someone to finance you or merge the company.”
“I would probably lose it then. I worked hard and spent everything I have to attain this and to have to sell it off to keep it alive would crush me.” Evelynn countered
Mary thought for a while and finally decided to switch the topic. “Did you see the latest episode of Cooking Cats?”
This got Evelynn's attention, Cooking Cats was a interesting show that either involved cats that could cook or people cooking cats. It varied each week. After talking with Mary for some while the waiter gave them each cups of water, which they both gulped down rapidly.
Conversation slowed as their entrees arrived and they began to check their phones. Finally Mary looked up and said, “Hey it says here that Blum industries released a faulty watch.”
At this Evelynn looked ups, Blum Industries had been a competitor of hers for a while now and having them create a faulty watch would be good for her company. “Really what happened?”
“This article says that when you try and open your messages the watch crashes, they thought at first it was a software issue which would have been much easier to fix, but it's actually something wrong in the motherboard.” Mary said. “Also it says here a potential investor, Mark Whinfield decided to pull out of a deal that would have gave Blum industries new OLED screens.”
“Wow that's great news for me.” For a long while Blum Industries had been eating up more and more of the market share, and having OLED screens would just amplify their success. Both Evelynn and Blum were racing to deliver a smartwatch that people would enjoy, but since Blum had more people working for him he managed to push it out first which would have gained him lots of money had there not been an issue. “Who is this Mark Whinfield guy?” Evelynn finally asked.
Mary was quick to respond with, “Oh he’s this guy that owns a monopoly of companies from science labs to tech innovations. He’s only 35 years old as well!”
“Maybe I should strike up a contract with him, If I were to obtain OLED screens for my products that would for sure raise my stock.”
“You know what you should.” Mary commented.
By the time they had finished their meals and paid for it, Evelynn had drunk 2.5 glasses of water. The food tasted great though and she felt much better going back to work. After her short trek that led her back to her company she was notified that the water in the building had been cut off. Well that wasn’t good. Evelynn called the water company who said the quickest they could turn the water on was in 3 hours.
Sighing Evelynn made her way to her office on the top floor. The recent loss of water made her pay more attention to her bladder, as shall she request relief, it wouldn’t be given to her. She felt fine for now knowing her bladder capacity was quite large, it came with her hips she supposed.
Evelynn decided that with the absence of water it was unfit to keep her employees there. But she along with a select few decided to stay to get some work done. Sitting down at her desk she decided to do some research on OLED screens and if was worth contacting this Mark Whitfield guy.
Looking him up she say he was quite pretty. He owned lots of companies from woodworking places to big science labs with lots of technology. She did some further research and discovered that the reason Mark had pulled out of his deal with Blum was not just because of the watch mishap, but also due to some conservative things that were said by Blum himself. This was good for Evelynn because she and her company were quite liberal.
Evelynn felt a small pang in her bladder bringing her to think about all the liquid she consumed at lunch. The water wouldn’t be turned on for another 2 and a half hours. She finally decided to just hold it in and get back to work.
She began analyzing the market. It was incredibly competitive at the time, and the only way Evelynn figured she could make her company successful was if she had something other companies didn’t have. Something that people want.
An easy sell to anything with a screen on it is a good screen and OLED sure as hell was beautiful. And no company has as beautiful screens as OLED would give them. She quickly got Mark’s email and asked him if he wanted to strike up a deal regarding OLED screens.
Once that was accomplished she regarded a different situation, her bladder. In the half hour that passed, her kidney’s have been hard at work filling her bladder. She knew she wasn’t able to relieve herself until the water was turned back on. She unbuttoned her jeans knowing she was practically the only one in the building, preventing her tight jeans from pushing on her bladder too much and giving it room to expand. She then pressed her thighs together and continued working, bouncing every so often.
Evelynn began to overview the work her employees completed. They had created their own OS that looked much prettier than anyone else's. Another report showed her that they had secured financing and distribution deals for their watch will be released in only a couple weeks.
Evelynn then began reading financial reports, the issue of faulty phones the released a couple months ago had strained their profits and they had now stabilized. She then began to get off topic not really knowing what to do and started to browse her social media. Not much was happening. And finally her train of thought had stopped at one particular station, her bladder. It had filled even more and she was starting to doubt her ability to hold for another hour and 45 minutes.
While there may have been no water, there were still toilets. Evelynn figured she would just use one and flush it once the water was back on. Deciding she would do just that, she stood up. The gravitational pull that her bladder experienced was almost enough to make her spill. She bent over holding herself until the wave of desperation passed. After a while it wasn’t that hard to hold it. She made her way passed the secretary, and to the bathroom. Excited by the thought of relief she tried the door handle which was locked.
Damn
They must have locked the doors so no one used the bathrooms by accident. Evelynn did not currently possess a key as she never really used them. She decided to take a walk through the building to see if there was anywhere she could take a piss without destroying something. Each office was just comprised of a desktop and some computers. After giving up she decided she would return to her office.
Once at her office she had an Idea. The only way Evelynn would be able to relieve herself was if she had something to pee into. That gave her an Idea, she would ask her secretary to get her a 16 oz cup of coffee and she would pee into it.
Rubbing her bottom into the chair to hold in her water, crossing her legs and tapping her foot against the ground. She began to keep herself distracted by looking over business strategies and possible innovations that could become a reality.
Within 10 minutes her secretary entereh her office carrying a 16 oz cup filled to the brim with ice coffee. While her secretary was in the room Evelynn tried to keep herself as composed as possible. Once her secretary left, she began holding herself and rubbing her thighs together again. Evelynn took one look at the coffee cup, and 2 problems came to light. First of all, she would need to drink all of the coffee as there was no place to dump it. The second issue being, she was seriously bursting and there was no way a 16 oz cup could hold it all.
It was either drinking all the coffee and filling her bladder even more, or wait for an hour and a half while her kidneys still filled her bladder. She chose the first option. Drinking the coffee was hard, and it took her 10 minutes to do so. The only thing left in the cup was a few ice cubes which she simply ate wanting as much volume for her piss in the cup as possible.
Drinking the coffee gave her a weird feeling of, ‘you’ll end up in my bladder won’t you’ to ‘hey atleast I can relieve myself… sort of’. At this point her bladder was rock hard, she was bouncing up and down doing her best to stay dry. Not wanting anyone to see her, through the window, Evelynn crouched down and began to undo her pants. The feeling of her bulging bladder being pressed on by her much desired thighs was excruciating. Evelynn slipped her high heels off and proceeded to tear her pants and white cotton underwear off. Crouching bear bottomed under her desk she was about to relieve herself when she heard the voice of her secretary.
“Ms. Velasquez?” She said in a timid fashion.
As quick as lightning Evelynn slipped into her pants and stood up releasing a spurt, but was abolished by her hand, that grabbed her vagina under her desk
“Yes?” Evelynn said in a strained voice trying to keep the lake of piss inside of her.
“Oh sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to let you know that Mr.Whitfield has replied to your request for a meeting.” The secretary said.
“Oh that's great, is that all?” Evelynn responded hurriedly as another spurt made its way out of her urethra, she began to sway sideways in an attempt to contain her piss.
“Yeah, that's all. Are you alright?” Her secretary asked noticing her quick speech and movement.
“NO, I’m alright. You can go back to your desk now.” Evelynn said maybe a bit too harshly.
Her secretary hesitantly backed away from her office and the second she closed the door, Evelynn went back to what she was about to do. She swiftly ripped her pants and underwear off like last time revealing her shaved vagina, and her smooth bottom. As soon as her urethra positioned itself above the cup, she let go of a strong stream that hit the bottom of the cup with a splatter.
‘OOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooohhhhhhhhh’
The noise escaped her without consent as the strain on her bladder diminished and she felt quite aroused.. Within a couple seconds the cup was full and Evelynn mustered the strength in her sphincters to cut off the stream. Sighing as her relief has ended she put her clothes on once again and sat back on her chair, storing the cup of piss in a drawer in her desk. Her need for pee had dropped quite a bit and relative to what she felt just a couple minutes ago, she felt great.
Getting back to work, she opened the email that was sent to her by Mark. As she read she became exceedingly more excited. Mark had agreed to discuss business inquiries over dinner and would end the discussion at his office, just a couple blocks down from where she was. The tone of the email sounded like he wanted to work with her. She responded telling him that the time he gave was fine and she would be there.
There were 45 minutes until Evelynn could relieve herself fully which she greatly desired. The 16 oz that made it out of her only prolonged the inevitable. Evelynn currently sported a fairly bulging bladder. Her bladder didn’t tend to expand much outwards more more to the side.
In the short time that had passed the coffee had made its way to her bladder, this was quite interesting as most liquid takes longer to enter the bladder. This pushed Evelynn to do some research. She found online that, coffee and alcohol enters the bladder in larger contents than water would due to the fact that water is absorbed by the blood stream so not all of what you drink comes out. Alcohol and coffee on the other hand are not absorbed by the blood stream meaning, Evelynn’s bladder in theory should end up being more full than the first time in the sense that 16 oz of water that comes out is replaced by coffee. This made Evelynn nervous.
Right before she had relieved herself, she felt so full the idea of even more perplexed her. That was not counting the water she drank from before was still filtering into her bladder. It had only been 30 mins and Evelynn sure as hell was desperate. For a few more minutes she sat at her desk bouncing up and down rubbing her thighs together. Until she decided to do something productive.
She recalled the bathroom being locked when she first tried about an hour ago, and she wanted to make sure that she could empty herself as soon as it turned back on. Getting up she once again experienced the pain of gravity pulling down on her sphincter muscles, but she ignored it and moved on.
She knew the janitor was still around here somewhere cleaning things and such. She just needed to find him. After 10 minutes of strolling through 3 floors of office, she finally found him, and he happily gave her the keys to the toilet. Although her situation had gotten a lot worse than she predicted. She felt arousal as she caressed her rock hard bladder. She decided to once again, unbutton her jeans and pull her underwear down just a little bit to take pressure off her abdomen region. This helped marginally but she was sure she could hold it for 5 minutes.
She hung around the bathroom closest to her office, until she got a call, at this point she was on the verge of wetting herself.
“Hello?” She answered hoping this call would not take too long.
“This is Ghram Water corporation, we are sincerely sorry about the lack of water for the past couple hours, he hope it wasn't too much of an issue, but we were scared the water was unsafe for human consumption so naturally we had to turn it off. But we are excited to say the problem has been worked out and you once again have water.”
“Thank you so much, it was no trouble.” Evelynn said hanging up. Her bladder had filled so much, she could feel it swish as she took steps. The ocean of piss inside of her was being held in by only her sphincter muscles and she was sure it was about to blow. Pushing open the door, the made her way to the nearest stall.
‘MMMMMMPHHHHH’
The noise emmited out of her as a small spurt made its way out and she was doing everything she could to hold it in. As she opened the door to the stall and got inside, she could feel herself losing. She quickly locked the door, and before she knew it she let go full steam inside her pants, she did not give up though as she ripped them down and plopped her sweet ass down on the toilet.
‘AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH’
The feeling of letting it all go was almost orgasmic. Evelynne peed for 1 minute at full force before it was all out of her. Her abdominal region had decreased in size. She sat there and contemplated what she just experienced for a moment before going back to her office and resuming her work.
To Be Continued... |
Thanks for the feedback on the previous installment. I hope you enjoy this once and be sure to tell me what you think. Also I’m not sure why these keep appearing in bold, but the bold button seems to be broke. Hope you don't Mind.
Chapter 2:
The day was friday and her diner with Mark was in fact today. It had been 2 days since the incident and that was behind her. Tonight she would strike up a business deal with Mark and bring her company back on top. Over the last 2 days Evelynn couldn’t stop visualizing the business prospects that could happen.
The time was currently 4:30 PM and she was to meet him outside the restaurant at 6:00 PM. Evelynn stood up from her chair, grabbed her coat and began to make her way to her door. The scent of lavender emanating from around the room. She soon reached the bottom floor and left the premise entirely. The city she lived in was so compact that she only needed to walk for a few minutes to reach her apartment. As she exited the building she felt a wave of heat encompass her. Only 2 days ago it had been dark and gloomy and now it had morphed into something sunny and unpleasantly hot.
Wish the damn weather would make up it’s mind. Evelynn thought as she made her way down the sidewalk. Subconsciously she began taking sips from her water bottle. Eventually her bottle of water was downed and she stuck it back in her purse. The city in which she lived in was quite beautiful at the time due to the local government taking measures to clean up trash and tend to the plants.
After a couple more minutes of walking, her apartment complex came into view. It was a tall building with glass sides that gave people the perception of a very modern build which is what it was. After going through the authentication process she made her way to her humble abode which lay on floor 6. It was very airconditioned and the height gave her a great view of the city, which looked especially good at night.
Evelynn rummaged through her fridge and pulled out some diet coke. She took her drink and positioned herself on her couch, turning on the TV. She didn’t usually get free time, but since she had it she may as well catch up on her favorite television shows. Flipping through the shows currently on netflix, she finally settled on a show by the name of Pengish Penguins. She didn’t really know what pengish meant but it sounded interesting to it began to play it.
After about 30 minutes and several pangs from her bladder, Evelynn made her way to the toilet and let loose her flood. After that day where she held to her limit Evelynn felt differently about desperation. Being brought to her limit had aroused her and now she resisted going to the bathroom, not as much as she did that day of course.
Once her waters had been released she had to decide what to wear. Evelynn stripped down all her clothes and took a shower. Once she was done she dried herself off and began to dress herself. Her most comfortable pair of panties had been ruined and she figured it would be nice to feel the breeze against her crotch. She decided a bra was also unnecessary. Evelynn decided to wear a dress that covered most of her cleavage and clung to her curvaceous body ending right at her knees.
Evelynn prefered not to do her makeup as she looked beautiful naturally as many people have told her. In her purse she carries her wallet, pads, and a full water bottle just in case. Deciding she was ready for her meeting, Evelynn stepped outside her apartment building and swiftly flagged down a taxi. 15 minutes later and she was in front of the restaurant and spotted Mark within seconds.
“Hello Mr.Whitfield.” Evelynn said as she approached the rich business man. He was quite handsome, with his hair slicked back and his frame fit his suite quite nicely. He stood at 5tf 9in and held a warm smile on his face.
“It’s wonderful to meet you Ms.Velasquez, shall we eat now?” Mark said getting straight down to business.
“Yeah of course.” Evelynn said following Mark to their table. They sat down and both ordered some red wine along with some water incase they got thirsty. For the first couple minutes they got rid of formalities deciding to call each other by their first name.
They started off by asking each other how their days were, and some more stuff about themselves. The conversation took more of a deeper turn once their entrees arrived.
“You’re dad was an alcoholic?” Evelynn said astounded
“Yeah, everyone thinks he died of heart disease, but in reality it was alcohol poisoning that got him, this left me in charge of his monopoly.” Mark hadn’t told much of this stuff to many people, but he felt more comfortable talking about this stuff with here.
“I’m sorry, my father stayed as far away from alcohol after he saw what it did to my uncle.” Evelynn admitted. “Alcohol addiction ruined his life from losing his job to giving him major health problems.”
They both continued talking about their families and businesses for a while. Near the end of their meal, they decided to switch the topic to the reason they had met. Business.
“So what would you want, to give me OLED screens?” Evelynn asked hoping he would answer with something reasonable.
“Well, I’m not sure. I have lots of money and own a business in almost every sector.” Mark said
Evelynn’s heart began to deflate, if this deal didn’t go through, there was a high chance her company would not survive the next few years. “Oh, come one, there must be something you wish.”
“I promise I will think about it.” Mark replied. And they began to converse about various things, all the while drinking wine.
Mark couldn’t figure how after drinking so much wine and water, Evelynn didn’t show any signs of having to go to the bathroom. Mark on the other hand was desperate, he was gripping his urethra under the table and moving himself back and forth. Finally he couldn’t hold it anymore and reveal to her that he had to use the bathroom and he made his way to the bathroom, where he whipped his member out and let lose in a toilet.
Mark making his way to the bathroom brought to Evelynn’s attention her bladder. She felt fine now, but she knew that in a couple hours she would be bursting as she had that one day. After thinking about it for a while, she decided she would be able to hold it for a while since her need at the moment was barely recognizable.
When Mark came back, they paid for their meals, finished their last cup of wine and began to leave the restaurant. Evelynn could now feel a small urge to go, but it was nowhere close to painful. They began conversing once again, and once the limo came to take them to Whitfield Corporations. As Evelynn entered the limo she could sense the wealth Mark owned. The seats were a soft leather that felt quite good on her bottom. On the other side of the limo sat Mark who looked quite comfortable there.
After about 20 minutes, Evelynn could feel her bladder being filled up from all the wine she consumed. She simply pressed her thighs together and moved on. Another 10 minutes passed and a considerable amount of liquid had filtered into her bladder. Evelynn peered out the window trying to take her mind of her bladder. It was a beautiful city too. The lights in the night looked gorgeous. Evelynn could feel her bladder begin to bloat, as it pressed against her tightly fit dress.
Evelynn squeezed her thighs together. Another 5 mins had gone by and she had to go soon otherwise her fancy dress would be ruined. Suddenly the limousine stopped which signified that they were there. As soon as she opened the door, she hear a splatter. Her bladder let out a spurt, thankfully it fell straight down and hit the ground leaving her dress untouched. Knowing Mark was on the other side of the car, she bent over and grabbed her vagina in order to regain control. By now nearly all of the contents they drank over dinner had passed through her system and was residing in her bladder, although she wasn’t at her limit she definitely had to go.
Mark was turned on to say the least. He had always had a fetish for female having to piss, and especially when they had big bladders. He could recall being an 8th grader and sitting in spanish class with the girl next to him squirming and admitting she had to use the restroom. During the long car ride, due to traffic of course, Evelynn constantly displayed signs of desperation, from squeezing her thighs together to not being able to sit still. All this while she tried to keep the conversation flowing. It also didn’t help that Mark thought Evelynn looked absolutely stunning.
After he exited the limo he decided to lead Evelynn to his office where they would strike up a business deal. He hoped that she would make it, knowing how much liquid she downed during dinner. After walking a bit and an elevator ride they were at his office. He held the door open for her and shut it after. Wearing no panties was both a curse and a blessing as it was harder to hold without something pressing on her region, but the waistband would squeeze on her bladder.
Evelynn successfully made it to Mark’s office without losing control although there were some close calls in the elevator. Entering his office she quickly took a seat, nuzzling her bottom into the chair. Mark took a seat across from her, only able to see her top half. This gave her the freedom to squeeze her legs together and grab her crotch without her knowing.
“So, how important are these OLED screens to you?” Mark asked her wanting to know what he could ask for her.
Disregarding every negotiation strategist telling her to play though to get. Evelynn replied, “Honestly I would do almost anything for them, without them my company will go bankrupt and everything I have will be gone.” Once she said this, she wasn’t sure whether she should’ve. Telling him how desperate she was for them would result in him giving her less money. The finally decided her poor choice was at the fault of her overly full bladder. Hence why she stood up and asked “Hey, is there a bathroom near here. I could really use one.”
Mark smiled and begins to speak. “I will provide your company with OLED screens and some other stuff need the contract be changed if you, Evelynn Velasquez agree to hold your pee for me. Not just now but other times. You see, since I was a child I always got turned on by beautiful women like you to having to pee. I won’t do anything too rough on you.”
Evelynn regarded him in surprise for a second. What kind of fucked up fetish is that? She thought to herself. Considering her options, “Yes.” emitted from her mouth. Holding her pee was something she already did and kind of enjoyed, although she wouldn’t admit it. It was surely better than some things some other men would make her do and boy did she need those OLED screens.
“Fantastic!” Mark said excitedly as he stood up. Evelynn could see the tent in his pants and felt somewhat discomforted by it. “I saw you desperate in the limo, and saw this prospective deal so I decided to type up this contract.” Mark said in a proud tone as he pulled out a piece of paper.
Evelynn at this point was openly holding herself, bouncing up and down, and making noise. Anything that would keep her from wetting his office. Eyeing the contract, Evelynn decided to sign it. Surely there would be nothing too bad in the contract and the sooner she could be the better. “There.” Evelynn said putting the pen down. “Now can I pee?”
“Wonderful, let us have some fun now.”
Evelynn didn’t really know what that meant, but she decided to play along as she did sign a contract. Mark walked up to her and regarded her closely. “Wow, that really is a beautiful bladder.” Evelynn wasn’t sure what to say so she just kept quiet trying not to unleash a torrent on to the ground. Mark came up from behind and placed both his hands on her bladder. “Quite hard, you must be bursting.”
“I am in fact this close to letting go.” Evelynn said gesturing with her fingers. Evelynn was seriously worried at this point. She didn’t want mark getting mad at her for ruining his carpet. “Are you going to let me pee please?” Evelynn asked hoping the answer was yes.
“Oh that liquid will leave you, trust me.” Mark stuck his hand under her dress and began to caress her vagina.
‘UUUUUUUUMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHH’ The noise came out of Evelynn as a small spurt escaped her. She doubled over regaining control over herself.
“Do you mind if you take your dress off?” Mark asked thoughtfully.
After considering her options, she figured fuck it, if she did there would be no way she could wet it. “Sure.” The words came out of her mouth. Immediately Mark began to toy with her zipper and soon Evelynn was standing there naked with an ocean inside of her begging for release.
Mark removed her hands from her crotch area, and spread her legs. She could felt herself losing it any second. Without her hand or even being able to squeeze her legs together, she felt so helpless. Mark began to press on her bladder.
‘MMMMmmm’ “Are you sure you don’t want me ruining these carpets?” Evelynn breathed weakly.
“It’s fine.” Mark replied cooly. He then once again pressed his hand against her bladder and this time a stream came out.
‘Ooooooooooooo’ The bliss of letting go of her overloaded bladder was heavenly.
“Hold it please.” Mark commanded after only a few seconds of relief. WIth a quiet grunt Evelynn cut off the flow. Grabbing her self with both hands, she was barely holding on. Even with only a few seconds, there was a significant puddle on the ground. “Come onto the balcony for a second.”
“NO! What if someone see’s me. My career would be ruined.” Evelynn stated worriedly.
“Don’t you worry, no one will see you. Or even recognize you. Trust me.” Mark persuaded. At this Evelynn agreed. She hobbled her way over to the balcony and felt as the cool air brushed upon her warm, supple skin. “You can now pee over the balcony.” Mark said with a grin.
At the news of this Evelynn hopped on the of the rail’s quite dangerously, spread her legs in a squat position and let go of a thick stream that made a loud splatter as it hit things on its way down. Evelynn Tilted her head back and let out a soft moan as the pressure in her bladder decrescendoed. This lasted for over a minute and she enjoyed every second of that. Once she was done, she hopped down to face a quite happy Mark, whose urethra was almost poking a hole in his pants by now.
“This has been fun, but I think I’ll be going now.” Evelynn said as she began zipping up her dress as it once was.
“I have to say, that was all incredibly hot.” Mark admitted.
Evelynn turned her head back to say, “I know.” with a smile as she called herself a taxi and contemplated what just happened. |
Hello, everyone. Sorry to keep you waiting.
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Super-fast summary so you can get to the good stuff: our hero, Parker (the Gentleman) has finally found someone special, Meagan. And Meagan made him a promise...
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Meagan kept her promises, and her body promised so much… but the actual purpose of college, education, got in the way. Spring semester seemed more frantic than fall. And so Meagan’s promise went unfulfilled for another two weeks, and in fact they didn’t even see each other for several days. But then Meagan found out that Parker’s birthday was three days before the beginning of Spring Break, which was coming right up.
“Okay, that is just perfect timing,” she said. “We are totally going to have a big party. But I’m not going to ask what you want for your birthday,” she told him with a sly grin, “because I already know. But I know what I want for your birthday.”
“What?”
She leaned in close and whispered in his ear: “Condoms. Think you can handle that?”
“Um—yes. Yes, I totally can.”
“Good.”
The party seemed to snowball—the Ultimate team rallied round at Meagan’s request, and CJ promised both music and beer. Parker made his own preparations by quickly raiding the big box of condoms at the college’s Health Services building, grabbing a handful, and then scampering away.
The Ultimate team was going down to Savannah, Georgia, for an all-week tournament over the break. Games didn’t start until Monday, however, so that gave everyone a two-day window to get there… and Meagan said it would take less than a day. So the plan was to have Parker’s blowout of a party on Friday night, sleep it off and take it easy on the emptied-out campus on Saturday, and do the driving on Sunday.
One crucial detail was still up in the air, unresolved—where were they going to have sex? Neither Parker’s roommate Jonathan, nor Dacy, Meagan’s roommate, were sure when they were leaving for home. But the morning of the party, Parker bumped into Meagan on the way to class. After a quick kiss, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I talked to Dacy. She said she’ll find a place to crash tonight.”
“Thank you,” he replied, fervently.
The day seemed to inch by, and Parker was vastly distracted—to the annoyance of his professors and the amusement of his classmates. Finally, finally, 4 o’clock came, the last class let out, and Parker practically skipped back to his dorm room to find that preparations were already under way. To his surprise Meagan had actually baked a cake. What was less surprising but just as exciting was CJ setting up his speakers in the dorm lounge where the RA had officially allowed them to be—plus the multiple six-packs of beer cooling in the fridge.
The preparations were complete by the time dinner rolled around at 5:30, and so Meagan and Parker and CJ and a few others all trooped off to the cafeteria. The lines weren’t long but they did linger, and so it wasn’t until nearly 7 that the party really began. CJ had his finest, most upbeat playlists. The beer was cheap, but after the first can, nobody noticed. There were plenty of people, including a few fellow dorm-mates who Parker barely knew but mostly stopped by because it was the Friday before Spring Break and there was beer and the party was right outside their doors. But the Ultimate team had showed up in force and was celebrating its own—a great kick-off to the Savannah trip, as Cap’n Josh pointed out.
Although she was doing a lot of dancing, Meagan kept pretty close tabs on Parker’s drinking. At several points she swung past, snatched the beer can from his grasp, and pressed a glass of water into his hand instead, whispering, “Don’t get too drunk, honey, we’ve got other plans tonight.” An hour later, as some of the other players tried to get Parker to chug a new can, she jumped between her boy and her team and said, “Oh, no you don’t! He’s mine tonight!” This got a big laugh and excused Parker from the duty of chugging. It didn’t get him out from blushing, though.
With all the water Meagan was making him drink, plus the food, he really wasn’t actually drunk, but he did have to go running off to the bathroom repeatedly. It was in the middle of pissing out the last beer he’d drunk that he had a sudden flash of realization. He’d been sticking pretty close to Meagan since he’d gotten back from class. During that time he’d peed several times—but he’d never seen her go to the bathroom.
He plunged out of the men’s room and looked for her. She was dancing, body rocking to the beat without a care in the world. Or was she? Looking more closely, he had to wonder. Was she dancing to the beat… or was she dancing because she was desperate? He hadn’t been watching her beer intake like she’d been stalking his. But it was now (he glanced at the clock) past 10pm and she hadn’t peed once in the last six hours, as far as he could tell.
He went over, and she pulled him in to the dance. It was not necessarily a bump-and-grind song, but she made darn sure he was getting plenty of contact with her body. That, and his sudden wild surmise, made him hard nearly instantly. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. But wait, that made no sense…
She noticed. She grinned. She said for his ear alone, “How are you feeling, honey?”
“Good. Really good.”
“Just wait,” she whispered.
Could he ask? Would that ruin things? Arousal and nervousness were rising simultaneously.
She noticed that too. “Relax,” she said. “I’ve got you.” And to suit her actions to her words, she draped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
And that helped. He fell into her arms and kissed her. She held him and held the kiss a long time. She pushed against him, her whole body. She wouldn’t do that if she were desperate, would she? Or was her belly a little more taut than usual? Or was that just her muscle? (Truth be told, either way was exciting. He could not get enough of her muscles.)
At 11pm Meagan went over to CJ, who announced that the next track would be the last song. Groans, complaints, shouts of denial. Then CJ announced what the last song was: an exuberant all-in number that was one of the anthems of the Ultimate team that spring. Cheers. Meagan grabbed Parker and they jumped and whirled like it was the only thing in the universe. His desire and his nerves were replaced by sheer joy in the dance.
As the music faded away, there were again groans, but Meagan jumped up on a table and said, “All right, folks, thank you so much for coming! It’s been a fantastic evening!”
“Why so soon?” someone hollered.
“Parker and I have some unfinished business!” Meagan shot back.
Uproarious laughter. Parker blushed so deep he was risking a burst blood vessel.
“I’m talking about doing the dishes!” Meagan mock-protested.
Laughter again. But with the beer gone and the music done, the crowd began to disperse.
Meagan was serious about cleaning up. She stood at the sink rinsing out the cake pan—tapping her foot, Parker noticed. But then Riv and Val came over. “Stop that!” Riv said. “We can clean up.”
“You’re sure?” Meagan asked.
“Totally,” Riv said. “Go have fun.”
“Oh, thank god,” Meagan said with a sigh.
But there were still a few things to do, and as Parker moved to help he noticed that Meagan was still dancing, and not necessarily to any internal music. It wasn’t quite on any beat he could tell.
In fact it looked less like a dance and more like… a squirm.
With a few chores taken care of, and Riv assuring her that the rest would be handled, Meagan grabbed Parker and pulled him close for a kiss. “Ready to go?” she asked.
“Yup,” he said, with a knot in his belly.
“C’mon!”
She danced through the door and out into the last of the Friday night, dragging Parker along by the hand. The door closed behind them, the last teammates parted ways, and they crossed the quad to Meagan’s dorm. She was practically skipping. Beyond the pool of light cast by the buildings—though nothing was really dark on the quad, just more shadowy—and out of anyone’s earshot, Meagan said with quiet excitement, “Guess what?”
“You need to pee?”
“Aw, you guessed!”
“Well, you told me to.”
“Heh. I guess I did.”
“I started to figure it out a while ago, actually, when I realized how long it’s been...”
“I know!” Meagan said. “I think the last time I went was after class, so… 2:30-ish? And it’s 11:30 now… nine hours!”
“How many beers did you drink?”
“Two beers, three full glasses of water,” she answered promptly. “Plus another glass of water at dinner.”
“How have you not exploded?”
“Tell you a secret—no, two secrets...”
“What?”
“One, it’s a lot easier to hold on if you never break the seal. Two, I am so gonna explode if I can’t pee soon. I have not been this desperate for a long, long time.”
She paused, and drew him close—just as the blood stampeding south through his body reached his cock. “I guess that’s what you wanted to hear!” she murmured, and kissed him.
It wasn’t a long kiss—she had to back off after a few seconds. She stood with her legs pressed close together, hands at her sides, fists clenched. Then she relaxed—a little bit.
“Is it worse than that time in the car…?”
“Oh, it’s night and day, hot stuff. That wasn’t fun but I was never in danger of pissing my pants. Tonight that is absolutely a possibility.” She stopped, clearly thinking of something suddenly. “Do you want me to do that?” she asked. “’Cause if you do I wanna change first…”
“No, I don’t think so,” Parker said.
“’Kay, thanks. That would be much messier than what I'd planned on. So what do you want me to do? And can you decide really really quick?” she added. She crossed her legs.
“I wanna see more of you,” Parker gasped.
“ ’Kay. Works for me—I wanna see more of you. C’mon.”
She fumbled with the card key to get into the dorm, but a passing resident let them in. Meagan dragged Parker down the hall to her room, fumbling again, with the key this time. She had to cross her legs again, slightly crouched, as she wrestled with the lock. Parker offered to help, but he was shaking with anticipation and was no better. Meagan laughed and got them inside. The door locked behind them.
Meagan ran to close the blinds, then whirled back to kiss Parker and blurt, “Okay, so I need to go SO BAD. Whatever you want, honey, but let’s do it fast.” She stood with her legs crossed again, and a look of excited half-panic in her shining green eyes. She was grinning—tense, but grinning.
“I want… I…” he stammered. “I don’t even know!” But part of him knew what to do. He could hardly avoid it. He reached down, unzipped his fly, and started jacking off.
“Here, let me do that,” Meagan said. She knelt down in front of him and sat on her heel. “Oh god,” she said. “This is helping a tiny bit but god do I need to go. Can you make up your mind, please? Quick?” But she caressed his hard-on gently, kissed it tenderly.
“I… I wanna see you. Naked. And I wanna see you pee…”
She thought fast. “Can’t take you into the girl’s room, too much traffic… I’m gonna have to pee here…” Her eyes flashed around the room. “Trash can,” she said, nodding to the one at the foot of her bed. “That’ll do. Take the bag out, I don’t want to get it all soggy.”
Parker pulled out the bag, twisted up the top—no time or finger-steadiness to tie it off—and turned back to Meagan. She stood up slowly. “Ah, fuck,” she whispered. “I am so close to pissing my pants right now. I have not had to pee this bad since I was, like, nine.” She gave him a grin and grabbed his cock. “And you are so close to coming. Good god are you hard. I love it.”
“Can I… can I have sex with you?”
Meagan shook her head. “I’m so full of piss there’s no way you’d fit. I’d pop the second you tried. And you are about the same. You feel like you’re about to explode in my hand right now.” She let go of him, reached up her arms above her head. “Help me with my shirt?” she asked. Her legs were squeezed shut again.
With frantic hands he managed to get the t-shirt off her. She was wearing a silky dark-red bra underneath. It brought out the red highlights in her hair. She kept her hands on her head.
“Now my pants,” she said. “Hurry.”
The sound in her voice told him not to go slow, despite his sudden urge to tease her. Her panties and bra were clearly from a matched set. She looked ravishing. She also looked like she was about to wet herself then and there; those strong legs were shaking as she squeezed.
“This is why I wanted to change if you wanted me to piss my pants,” she said. “These are really nice panties. Feel them.”
He did, around the edge.
“No, silly,” she said. One hand came down to grab one of his; her other hand stayed on her head, fingers twining with her hair and gripping, white-knuckle tight. “Here,” she said, as she guided his hand to her butt. These muscles, too, were locked down. Her panties slid like silk over the steel beneath.
“And here,” she said, steering his hand around front. She somehow squeezed even tighter and spread her legs apart. Her fingers brought his to her crotch. She gave a little gasp as she stroked herself using his fingertips. “Okay, I can’t even do that,” she said, and crossed her legs again in a hurry.
“Can I see you naked?”
“Of course. I wanna be naked with you. Shit,” she added under her breath.
He reached for her bra.
“No, let me, you’ll take forever.” Her breasts fell loose, still looking a little larger than he would have guessed. He was nearly panting with excitement as he took all this in.
Meagan gasped. “Okay,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m gonna… I’m… I’m about to leak, I’m gonna piss right now.” Nothing happened for a second; then she relaxed her legs fractionally, and quick as lightning whipped the red silk panties down to her ankles. She danced out of them and backed up to the trash can.
“Wait!” Parker said. “I want to…”
“There’s no way I can wait any more!” she said—squeaked, really—but she jammed one hand between her legs and bent over a little more at the waist (this had a fascinating effect on her boobs). With her other hand she grabbed his cock. Her hand was slightly clammy and it chafed him more than helped him. “Sorry,” she said as he explained this, and took her hand away. Then: “I’m going.”
“You’re peeing?”
“Yeah.” She squatted.
Then he heard the hiss and, a moment later, the splatter of her stream hitting the bottom of the trash can.
His frantic gaze took this all in—beautiful naked girl, peeing desperately after holding it for him, eyes half-closed in bliss as she sighed with relief—and then saw nothing but black as his eyes squeezed shut and his body erupted.
“Oh, wow,” Meagan said.
He looked down. He was still spurting a little, but that first bit—he knew he’d launched a rocket there, where had it ended up…?
“It went over my shoulder,” Meagan said, turning her head to look—her piss still streaming down into the can. He saw it now: a puddle of spunk on the floor a good two feet behind her.
“Good think you missed Dacy’s bed,” Meagan said with a grin. “If I’d known you were gonna come that much I would have sucked you off. But maybe you woulda just choked me!”
Parker shook his head. He was having a hard time talking. He was having a hard time standing.
“Oh, shiiiiit, does this feel good!” Meagan said. Her stream was still going.
“You like it?” Parker gasped.
She chuckled. “Parker, if you hadn’t peed in nine hours, you’d like it too. But to answer your real question… yeah, this was pretty hot. I love how turned on you got.”
Sudden realization dawned. “I’m sorry. We were gonna…”
She put a finger to her lips, since she couldn’t reach his. “Don’t. You had fun, that’s pretty obvious. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Parker sat down abruptly on the bed. Meagan’s stream finally trailed off. At her request he passed her a tissue, which she used to wipe herself dry. She looked down into the trash can and laughed. “Holy crap, I held on to all that? I’m better at this than I thought.”
She stood up straight, stretching. “And whew, I am so relaxed right now by comparison. After all that holding…” A sudden yawn broke through her sentence. “Sorry! And… sorry, I think we’d better go to bed!”
Parker was still shaking from his thunder-cumming. “I don’t know if I can even sleep right now,” he said.
She grinned. “Give it a few minutes…”
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Stay tuned for part 5 and a half! Will Parker finally lose his virginity...? Will Meagan get to come as massively as Parker did...? What on earth will Meagan's roommate think of the trash can full of piss...?
Since I made you wait for part 5 for so long, I'll take pity and post the rest soon... but would I be on this site if I didn't like making people wait?
Edited October 22, 2017 by Weasel
(see edit history) |
Mal looked in awe at the bizarre spectacle unfolding on the beach hundreds of feet below. He had been looking for birds, crabs, seashells, cloud formations, or whatever else would look good in a photograph. His attempts to throw a college art project together didn't go so well on the public beach. There were too many people in the way, and one girl in particular he wanted to avoid. Now he was atop a cliff not far away, his camera hanging from a strap on his shoulder, as he stood in a spellbound state and stared at the things that were coming out of the sea. First he had thought them to be a trick of the light. When they surfaced, it was clear they were things rather than reflections of things. As they crawled and loped onto shore he thought they were seals, but it soon became clear they weren't.
A shiver came to Mal's body with the realization that they were something truly strange. He expected to recognize them immediately, as if it were only some optical illusion or hallucination that made them look like something out of the ordinary. But they only looked more eldritch as his eyes focused. They had dark glistening skin like newts or leeches, but their eyes had a strange sparkle. There were mere suggestions of limbs rather than actual legs or fins. Three were on the shore now, while another three puppet-like heads had surfaced. They were clumsy on land, but something about them looked artful and clever. It was all very strange. Mal had been willing to entertain the possibility that they were dinosaurs, or even dragons. But soon he stopped even trying to place them, and sought only to observe them.
Finally he remembered his camera. His expensive digital camera with the great zoom function. He snatched it up, pointed it in the general direction of the secluded stretch of beach where the creatures were coming ashore. It was still on maximum zoom from the seagulls he had been photographing earlier, and, when he put his eye to the eyepiece, he was surprised to see a nude woman stretching out her arms. He lowered the camera, thinking he was somehow seeing a different part of the shore. It turned out he had pointed the camera in the right direction. There was a redheaded young woman stretching herself next to the six unidentified animals. Or was it seven? There was an indistinct lump that could have been a seventh animal. Having returned the camera to the default view, he looked through it again, and slowly zoomed in, snapping pictures all the time. The woman kept smiling and stretching, and glancing at the Protean creatures every now and then. The extra sharpness of the picture didn't help Mal to identify the figures. They were still semi-symmetrical globs pseudopods of some sort. Their skin was muted shades of blue and green, and seemed now to be made up of something like scales. Things that could have been mouths and nostrils, and things that were definitely gills, appeared before him. But it was the eyes that attracted his attention like magnets. They could have almost belonged to dogs. Or even, perhaps, humans.
Mal's curiosity and anxiety turned to fear and disgust when the back of one of the beast split open. It was red underneath. The gash widened and widened until it ran the length of the spine...assuming it had a spine. Then the red mass inside started to rise out, like the globby redness that oozes from a cherry pie when the knife slides in. In no more than a minute, the entire skin had been pulled away from the muscle and bones, and what almost looked like a red copy of the animal was scrambling across the sand. But it didn't bleed. It seemed all right. The woman smiled as it freed itself from the skin, and many of its brethren were now splitting apart. Mal realized that the small seventh shape was a discarded skin. But where was the thing that had molted it?
The red and pink seal-shaped monsters stretched and squeezed and kneaded themselves until they were shaped like people. Then they actually became people. Women with red hair and blue eyes. They stretched, then walked, and ran, and leaped, and danced about. They seemed to forget about their skins as they enjoyed the warm sand and the cool breeze and everything else around them. One of the skins, which had been kicked off in a hurry, was now draped across a large, pointed rock. Mal had a naughty idea.
------------------
"Hey, Malford, it's me, Rochelle!" a young woman in a powder blue bathing suit called out to her old classmate. She squinted her hazel eyes in the sun as she removed her sunglasses and brushed her wind-whipped brown hair out of her face, hoping to make herself more recognizable. The young man looked at her stoically for a second, then went back to gathering up his things, paying no attention to the girl.
Rochelle wasn't dissuaded. They'd been friends last year in high school, and, despite a little awkwardness the day of their graduation ceremony, she assumed they were still friends. She tiptoed across the hot sand to meet him.
"Whatcha got there?" she asked as she saw the odd thing he had draped over his arm.
"It's nothing," Mal answered curtly. "Look, I don't have time to talk. I'm working against a deadline. I've got a complicated project for my photography course."
"Ooh, can I see it when it's done?"
"Sure. You still got the same e-mail address?"
"Yeah. So what is that?" She reached out and touched the strange cloth Mal was holding. It felt at the same time like fine silk, the wing of a butterfly, and the belly of a garter snake. It was a beautiful blue, but only showed its color where the light hit it straight on.
"Careful, it's rare."
"But what is it?"
"It's a long story." He folded it up carefully and put it in a duffel bag with the rest of his things.
After a few more pleasantries and dodged questions, Mal was off, and Rochelle was wondering if she had offended him. But mostly she was wondering about the cloth he had carried. Something about it utterly fascinated her from the instant her brain had registered the sensation of her fingertips touching it. That fascination was growing every second. But she hadn't lost sight of the destination where she'd been heading before she sighted Mal.
A bunker-like cement building painted tan housed the public restrooms. Rochelle had much time to think as she stood in line.
She'd gotten the impression Mal had just found the cloth. So if she could just backtrack the way she'd seen him coming, maybe she could find where he had gotten it, and what it was. Her obsession grew, her patience diminished, and soon she abandoned the slowly-moving line in favor of her quest.
A strange feeling came upon her while she was making her way along the winding cliffside. She didn't know what it was, but it frightened as well as excited her. As she was rounding a bend, she caught sight of a triangular rock that jutted out of the ground like a tooth. The rock had been enough to catch her attention, but she could see something behind it, just peeking out of the edge. The girl's blood pressure jumped. That something was covered with blood.
When she came in full view of the thing she had glimpsed, she put her hands over her mouth in shock. She didn't scream, or even gasp, but her eyes were wide and her tan skin was starting to turn white. In the sand lay a human corpse that had been skinned from head to toe. Every muscle was fully exposed for her to see. Tendons, ligaments, and even mammary glands could be spotted amongst the glistening red meat. The scavengers were keeping their distance. There was no pool of blood or stench of decay or any other sign of decomposition. It looked as clean as a freshly-butchered hog. This orderliness made the grisly sight even more unnerving to the faint-hearted young woman. But this horror was nothing compared to what came next.
Just as Rochelle's rational mind was starting to kick in and she thought about whether she should go back and tell a lifeguard or call 911 right now, she saw the body move. Slowly, it sat up. Rochelle shrieked.
When it was in an upright position, the stringy red eyelids on the skinless face opened to reveal a pair of blue eyes. Rochelle's screams were soon suppressed into squeaks and gasps as her breath left her. But she lost control of more than just her voice.
Rochelle's bikini began to turn a darker shade of blue in a spot just behind where her thighs met. Her body wobbled as she tried to fight gravity and the loss of her strength and oxygen. The large navy blue spot reached forwards, backwards, and sideways, until it met the borders of the fabric and liquid began to run down her legs like streams of rainwater coursing over the lips of an overburdened gutter.
The skinned fiend opened its mouth, revealing paradoxically white teeth, and spoke. "I have the same problem with this human body. Sometimes liquid leaks from between my legs."
------------------
When Rochelle sat up from the couch, she hoped it had all been a dream. It hadn't.
There was a strange redhead in her apartment, wearing some of her spare clothes, staring at her with those creepy blue eyes.
Rochelle hadn't really slept. It was late, but she wasn't counting on getting any sleep this night. She had just laid down to collect her wits, to get a grasp on this strange situation. But she had drifted into a sort of half-sleep, perhaps because her brain wanted to shut down and leave reality behind.
"Your name is Rochelle Reincken, is it not?" the mysterious woman said.
"I can't even remember if I introduced myself," Rochelle said. "What's your name, anyway?"
"I can't seem to make the right sounds with this throat or these lips. But the name of my people is 'Selkie.' I heard your name when I was learning from you while you rested. I hope you don't mind. I was desperate to know things."
"Learning from me?" asked Rochelle, squinting in confusion.
"Listening to your thoughts. I thought I could learn enough to solve my problems. I heard very little in your mind, but I did pick out what I thought was your name."
"Yeah, I'm Rochelle Reincken. Your problem is that you need your skin back, I understand that much...except you have skin now, so I guess I don't understand. God, this is all so crazy."
"I have two more urgent problems, and I need to call upon your knowledge of the human body to determine how to solve them. The first problem is a pain I have here." She put her hand on her stomach.
"I'm not surprised. In the last couple hours you've eaten a dead pelican, two fast food meals, including the paper the burgers were wrapped in, then I let you into my fridge...I'm kind of regretting that...and you ate four hard boiled eggs and eight raw eggs, all with the shells on, a head of lettuce, a dozen carrots, and a bowl of leftover chili, then I chased you out of the fridge and you ate a dozen bananas without peeling them or taking off the stickers, and probably every other piece of fruit around here. I just got groceries last night, too.
"I need energy for my magic. Maintaining this false skin requires much magical energy. Don't worry about the ill effects of the things you say aren't edible. Even in this human body, I possess enough intrinsic magic to protect myself from poisons."
"But my point is that's why you have a tummyache. Your stomach is too full. Don't worry about it. It will feel better as you digest your food...which I paid for."
"I'm sorry if you are displeased, but I need false skin and a large magical reserve if I'm going to inconspicuously locate my skin and steal it back.
"No offense, but that's not gonna work. There's nothing inconspicuous about you. When I brought you home, you didn't know what a door was. You didn't even understand clothes. How do you think you're going to function in human society without attracting unwanted attention?"
"I don't know. But right now I have a more urgent problem."
"Right, you did say two problems, didn't you?"
"I have a second pain lower in the body. Not a pain so much as a...I think 'tingling' is the best word."
"Hmm...Oh! I bet you have to pee."
"That's the word you used when you spoke of the unwanted liquid outpouring that happened in your swimming clothes, is it not?"
"Yeah, but don't go telling anybody I did that. You're probably getting that tingling because you have to pee, so I'll show you where the bathroom is."
"I still don't understand 'pee' fully, and I don't understand 'bathroom' at all. All I know is that, when I take the form of my human ancestors for substantial lengths of time, I have problems with liquid pouring out of my body. Some of the other Selkies have had it happen too."
Rochelle blushed. She really didn't want to explain. "How about you do that mind-reading thing to find out all about it? That'll be faster than using words, right?"
"Yes, that should work." The fire-haired stranger put the palm of her cold hand on Rochelle's forehead. "Concentrate on the area of knowledge you want me to absorb."
"This isn't working," Rochelle heard her say after a few moments. Are you thinking about the subject?"
"Yeah."
"I can't learn about it."
"You sure?" Rochelle was dreading a verbal explanation. One of the reasons she never wanted to have children was to avoid having to potty train anyone. Now it looked like this strange being from the sea needed just such a lesson.
"All I can really understand is that bathrooms are a place human females go to in pairs or groups. The rest of the subject eludes me. It's as if your mind is hiding it all behind a dark veil."
Rochelle blushed again. She realized it must be because she was unconsciously censoring herself. This was a shameful subject, after all.
"I guess I'll have to tell you. Follow me to the bathroom." Rochelle winced as she remembered. "Actually, the plumbing's been acting up. I can't trust the toilet to flush. I need to talk to the landlord about that again. In the meantime, we'll have to use the public bathroom on the first floor."
"What is this 'bathroom'?"
"It's the place where you can pee."
"Can't I pee anywhere? You peed inside your swimming clothes on the beach."
"You can but you shouldn't. So hold it."
The woman held out her hands. "What do I need to hold?"
"Your pee. Hold it inside."
She put her hands inside her pants and gripped the flesh between her legs.
"That won't help. Well, maybe it will, but don't do it when people are watching. At the very least, keep your hands outside of your clothes when you hold yourself."
"The tingling is getting worse. What should I do?"
"I don't know how to explain how to hold it in. But please figure out a way. We're going to the bathroom, and you need to stay dry until we get there."
"Why does peeing happen? Why can't we control it?"
"It happens because you drink liquids. They have to go somewhere."
"I suppose. My skin is full of magic that benefits my body in many ways, so I never think much about how my organs work. I've never noticed peeing happening while in my skin."
"Lucky you."
As they left Rochelle's apartment, the strange woman asked, "Am I right to think it is taboo to let water pour out of you at any place except in the confines of a bathroom?"
"Yes."
"So what you did inside your swimming clothes is forbidden?"
"Yes, but please don't mention it. And don't talk like this when you're not in my apartment. There could be people..." As if on cue, Rochelle saw someone headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. It was a tall man with dark skin, short black hair, and a friendly smile.
"Hi, Ben."
"Hey, Rochelle. Who's your friend?"
"You may call me 'Selkie.' It would be most accurate."
Rochelle blushed, but "Selkie" was clearly unaware she was saying anything strange or embarrassing.
"I like the accent," Ben commented. "Where are you from?"
"The Reykjanes Ridge."
"Is that in Ireland?"
"It's nearby."
"So what are you doing here?"
"Right now Rochelle Reincken and I are going to the bathroom together, as human females are wont to do."
Ben didn't have anything to say to that. Rochelle wanted to scream, she was so embarrassed.
"Let's go, Selkie," she said, and she fled from the embarrassing conversation as quickly as she could without making it obvious that she was running away.
"It's the ascending room again," Selkie commented when they reached the elevator. "This is so intriguing."
"It's called an elevator. It's going to take us down to where the bathrooms are."
"How does it work?"
"Don't worry about it. Actually, maybe you should. If you take your mind off your pee it should keep you from peeing your pants."
"The peeing of pants is what you did on the beach, is it not?"
"Yes, that's the right phrase. But don't mention that again. It's embarrassing."
"Ah! Because you are ashamed of accidentally violating a taboo."
"Yeah. I don't want to pee my pants, and neither should you. Nobody does."
"Except inside a bathroom."
"No! You don't pee your pants there either. You pee in a toilet."
"A toilet is something inside a bathroom?"
Rochelle relaxed her neck until her head bumped into the wall of the elevator. "This is going to be a hard lesson to teach," she muttered to herself.
On the ground floor, they walked to the lobby where the closest restrooms were.
"Just keep remembering you don't want to pee your pants under any circumstances," Rochelle whispered. "You take them off first."
Selkie reached for the fly of her jeans.
"No! Not now!"
When inside the bathroom, Selkie again tried to take off her pants, but Rochelle again stopped her. Someone at the sink noticed this happening in the mirror, and turned around in puzzlement.
"Hi, Rochelle!" said the perky blonde.
"Oh, hi, Jenna," Rochelle said, again wanting to wince.
"God, I didn't know you still lived here! I haven't seen you in ages."
"Yeah, I'm working some crazy hours these days."
"Please tell me what to do soon," Selkie said. Rochelle noticed she was now holding her crotch.
"Don't do that," she snapped.
"I have to. I'm very close to peeing my pants."
"What?!? Jenna exclaimed."
"This is my friend Selkie. We're coming back from a little girls' night out, and she had too much to drink."
"Yes, I drank very much, it has to go somewhere."
"You're in trouble, then," Jenna remarked with a laugh. "All the stalls are taken."
"Just my luck!" Rochelle bemoaned.
"Are there toilets inside the stalls?" Selkie asked.
"Why don't you just go in the men's room? That's what I always do in a situation like this. It's never full."
"I can't take Selkie into the men's bathroom! She's too innocent!"
"Huh?"
"I don't want to be in there with guys. She doesn't know how to handle herself."
"I don't?"
"No, you don't."
Jenna gave Rochelle a quizzical look.
"Please take me somewhere where I can pee without breaking a taboo, Rochelle Reincken," Selkie said.
"Fine, we'll go to the men's room," Rochelle said. She couldn't say no to those big blue pleading eyes.
"I'll watch the door for you," Jenna volunteered. "I don't think any guys'll mind waiting for you. Especially if they see how cute you are."
Inside the empty men's room, Rochelle began to lecture Selkie. "Take your pants down to your knees and sit down."
Selkie obliged, and Rochelle cradled her head in her hands and groaned.
"Selkie, that's not a toilet," she said in a pained voice. "That's a sink."
The redhead lifted her rear end out of the sink and prepared to hop down. But the countertop around the sink was wet, and her hands and legs slipped. She flew sideways and landed bottom-first on the tile floor.
"I peed," Selkie announced. Indeed, there was a puddle growing around her. But it was worse than just that.
"You didn't pull down your underwear," Rochelle said, once again burying her face in her hands.
"You only mentioned the pants. Will I be punished now?"
"No."
"Later, then?"
"Don't worry about it. Nobody here will punish you for peeing your pants."
"But it is a taboo, is it not?"
"Yes, but it's not a law."
"Then how is it enforced?"
"It's hard to explain. Just don't worry about anyone around here punishing you."
"I feel excellent."
"What?!? Why?"
"The peeing felt good, because it removed the tingling pain. My human body is now devoid of bad feelings. Correction: The two lumps of flesh just above the tops of my legs are sore."
"Get up. I'll show you how to use a toilet, for future reference."
Rochelle helped Selkie off the floor, and she pulled up her jeans. The seat of her pants was already soaked, and the front began to darken as well when the denim came into contact with the wet panties.
"The pee is pleasantly warm," Selkie commented with a smile. "It feels like blood, but I am uninjured."
"Here's what to do next time," Rochelle said. She was in a stall with the door left wide open. She loosened her belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped her faded hip-hugging jeans, and pulled them down to her knees. Then she did the same with her lime green cotton hipsters.
"You sit down on the toilet like this, after making sure the seat is down."
"But the seat is up."
"That's the lid. It's different."
"Why is there both a lid and a seat?"
"Don't worry about it. You sit down and you let go of your pee."
Rochelle spurted and sputtered. It was a little hard to get going while Selkie was watching and scrutinizing with wide blue eyes. But she managed to initiate the stream, which continued until she was almost empty. After a few squirt gun-like blasts to the inside of the bowl, her bladder was fully voided.
"Your pee isn't nearly as yellow as mine," Selkie observed
"It's different colors at different times. I'm not sure why."
"Why have you never inquired or researched the different pee colors?"
"Because it's taboo. We don't talk about it."
"Don't you have to talk about it?"
"Sometimes. But we prefer to avoid it. Just like we prefer to avoid peeing our pants."
"That is why you wish to avoid talking about your peeing in your swimming clothes, is it not?"
"Yes! Don't talk about it again!" Rochelle scolded for what felt like the hundredth time. Then she returned to the lesson. "Now that I've peed in the toilet, I wipe the extra pee off my body so it doesn't get my clothes wet." She got some toilet paper and dabbed at her wet parts. "Then I flush the pee along with the paper."
"Where does all that water and pee and paper go?"
"Into a lot of pipes."
"Where do the pipes go?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
"I want to learn about the dry world so I can go about in it long enough to recover my skin. My life depends on it." For the first time, Rochelle felt truly sad for Selkie.
"What happens if you can't get your skin back?"
"I won't be able to breathe underwater, so I won't be able to go home. If I stay away from the sea for too long, my magic will drain away. No amount of food can help that. When I have no magic, my tissues will no longer be able to stay together without skin, and my organs will fail. I will die."
"We'll go up to my room and get started right away," Rochelle said forcefully as she pulled up her pants. "You'll learn from my mind, and with that knowledge we can make a plan."
"I can also teach you from my mind."
"Great! I know how to find the person who took your skin, and I'm sure we can get it back from him without betraying your people's secret. How long can you live without your skin, anyway?"
"I don't know. No Selkie has had to die that way for centuries."
"And you won't die that way, either. I may not understand the situation, but I know I won't let that happen to you."
When Rochelle exited the bathroom, she realized she had forgotten another situation. Jenna was still waiting outside, as were a trio of college-age boys. Rochelle could see each one of their faces light up as they saw a pair of beautiful girls their age and a chance to talk to them. It was also obvious when each one noticed Selkie's wet spot.
"Thanks for waiting, guys," Rochelle said. Sorry about that.
"No problem," one of the boys said.
"Are you all right?" Jenna asked Selkie as everyone around pretended not to stare at her wet spot.
"No. I peed my pants."
"She'll be all right," Rochelle assured.
"Now we're going back to Rochelle Reincken's room," Selkie continued, "where she will punish me."
Rochelle hastily led Selkie to the stairs.
"Why aren't we taking the box that ascends and descends?" the confused girl asked.
"We might run into people there, and I don't want to share an elevator with them and have to explain our situation. So we'll take the stairs, where there are less people. By the way, I'm not going to punish you for peeing your pants. I thought I already made that clear."
"You said no one down there would punish me. I thought you were reserving that duty for yourself."
"No. You won't be punished at all."
"I feel wonderful!"
"I wish I did."
"These 'stairs' are a lot of work to climb," Selkie commented after making it up two flights. "I wish I could swim up to the floor where your room is."
"I don't know what to tell you. You'll have to get used to using your legs."
"Legs are fun to use every so often, but I wouldn't want to have to depend on them all the time."
On the sixth floor they again encountered Rochelle's friend Ben. Selkie spoke before Rochelle could say anything.
"I see you're staring at my pants. I wet them because my journey to a toilet was delayed. But don't worry about me; I will receive no punishment."
Ben looked at her dumbfounded. Not knowing what to do, Selkie smiled. Rochelle led the girl away from the boy, all the while suppressing the urge to chomp down on her own hand.
Back in the privacy of her apartment the two fared better. From Rochelle, Selkie learned about things like cars, makeup, and money. What she needed to know to get around in this world of dry land.
Rochelle, in turn, learned about the Selkies. Their ancestors were strange sea monsters who took human brides. Magic allowed the women to live in the dark undersea abode, where their descendants now live in happiness. But female Selkies take after their ancestral mothers, and have an inborn homesickness for the land above. To this day, they take excursions to deserted shores, slough off the inconvenient skins that contain their gills and most of their magical attributes, and enjoy the land and air and Sun. They can do this because their bodies under their skin can be reshaped into the ancestral form, and they have enough magic residing within themselves to fashion temporary false skins that make them look and feel even more human. But their skins are essential to them. They protect them from drowning, disease, the blindness they would otherwise have so deep underwater, and the ill effects of high water pressure. They also, Rochelle could infer, protect them from the need to urinate and defecate. And so Selkies think nothing more of their food once they have swallowed it.
Even though a Selkie's skin is so important, this Selkie had become so intoxicated by the feeling of being on land that she hadn't kept an eye on it. Then, when it was time to follow her older sisters back home, she couldn't find it, and realized a land-dwelling person or thing must have crept in and stolen it away.
"My mind is spinning," Rochelle said once the two were done sharing their thoughts. "There's so much to take in. I know I said we would draw up a plan tonight, but I'm exhausted. Physically and mentally. I'm going to try to get some sleep, although that's probably impossible."
"You have trouble sleeping?" Selkie asked, sounding concerned.
"Not normally, but my mind is racing right now. I've been through so much today."
"You should rest."
"I'll try."
"Here," Selkie said, coming close to Rochelle. "I know a trick that will help you."
------------------
It was a beautiful morning, and Selkie was so glad she was up here where she could see the Sun shining down on the Earth. She got out of bed and stretched, as if she were coming out of her skin. How she longed to have that skin back. Still, this body had definite plusses. She felt one of the minuses instantly, but knew how to remedy it. She got dressed, took the elevator down to the ground floor, greeting Rochelle's friends and acquaintances as she met them, and made her way to the bathroom. She followed Rochelle's directions perfectly this time, pulling down both her panties and her pants, and sitting on the toilet's seat even though it hurt her sore buttocks. She only deviated from the instructions by letting out a moan of satisfaction as the urine was released from her aching bladder. She covered her mouth, and felt shameful for doing something that seemed like it should be a taboo. If she had known a little more, or been able to read human expressions better, she would have known that leaving the stall door open was also taboo. But none of the women who saw her sitting there said anything, so how could she know?
When she was done, she wiped herself, stared in amazement as the toilet flushed, pulled back up her panties and pants, and washed her hands.
Back up in Rochelle's room, she got some things together, then went to the bathroom to get herself ready for her meeting with Malford Poynter today. She had learned enough from Rochelle's mind to feel confident that she could solve this problem. There was the other, minor problem of the pain she felt in her lower abdomen, but she wasn't worried about that. Her knowledge from Rochelle told her what implements were located in which drawers, and what most of the things in the medicine cabinet were. She knew how to apply makeup, fix hair, and do everything else she needed to look pretty. But she knew she didn't need much. She had a beautiful face with silky brown hair, and her own blue eyes worked well in the ensemble.
Before turning the light off, Selkie glanced at the bathtub. There, half-submerged in red-tinted water, lay what was left of Rochelle Reincken.
"Thanks for everything."
Edited October 24, 2017 by Jimmy Olsen
(see edit history) |
Based on a prompt from Tremblingstockings.tumblr.com
In a small clump of trees in a rocky woodland area far from any city or town a tall skinny ginger-haired boy in an overly large cotton tee and an overly small pair of old blue jeans stood with his fly open cursing his manhood. He'd been standing there for the better part of ten minutes but the tree trunk he was aimed at was still bone try and his bladder was still bursting full.
He wanted to go. He wanted it with every fiber of his being. But somehow he couldn't get his little faucet to turn on. The nervous young man had a hard enough time using a public restroom. Here there were no walls. He felt unprotected and he knew there was a chance his business could be heard or even seen.
He tried to relax. He closed his eyes and took deep regular breaths and did what he could to forget where he was. He felt something coming. A little bit of liquid had made it past the barrier and was trickling through the channel. He heard a slight drizzle on the leaves below. Just then he heard a voice. Laughter. Girlish laughter. Manda's voice. His passage instantly clamped shut. He knew there was no hope of relieving himself now. With a sigh he zipped up and walked back to where his fellow campers were waiting.
This was supposed to be a fun excursion. His first time camping without any grown-ups around to supervise his vacation. Because he and his friends were now grown-ups. At least they technically were even if they didn't feel like they were. Chett was no experienced outdoorsman and the wilderness always had some misery to dole out but this camping trip could still have been fun. It would have if it hadn't been for one factor: Girls.
What was planned as a camping trip with his two best buds had changed into a trip with two guys and one of their girlfriends and somehow further morphed into a trip with two boys and three girls. When Chett was with the guys he was just hanging out but with girls around he was always on edge. It was like being at school or work.
The girls weren't total strangers. Chett had become a little friendly with the girl named Manda. Had a couple private conversations with her. Gotten to know her somewhat. She was a robust brunette who looked great in flannel and khakis. Her face and hair always seemed flawless even though she was staying at a campsite with only the most basic amenities. She was bright and optimistic and receptive and had a certain warmth he'd never felt in a girl. Except maybe his mother. To sum it up simply Chett sort of liked Manda.
Ironically that made him more nervous in her company than when she was just another girl. When she was around he could never relax. The hardest part to relax was the muscle that held his bladder shut. Just hearing a fleeting giggle from her had been enough to electrify his wires and shut off his plumbing.
Chett emerged from the grove and rejoined the group. So much time had passed since he'd excused himself that he couldn't admit he hadn't done anything. He would have to make a different excuse if he wanted to break away from the pack again. That was the only way he'd be able to relieve his ever-growing bladder. There was an outhouse at the campsite but that was a long way to go and he wanted to catch back up with the group before too long. His best bet was to go off on his own and find a secluded spot without anyone following him.
For the time being they were hiking a trail together. Bella was the first to break off from the group. She found an edible fungus and wanted to go hunting for more. Chett searched his brain for excuses but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't get him funny stares from his fellow campers. It wasn't easy to concentrate on a problem like that with a full bladder in tow. All he could think about was the large amount of liquid sloshing around inside there and his inexplicable difficulty getting it out.
"Do you hear water?" Tommy asked.
It threw Chett off for a moment because he was carrying a lot of water but didn't think anyone else knew.
"A waterfall," Bella observed as she pointed out the distant stream. It gave Chett an idea.
"It's beautiful!" he said in exaggerated wonder. "I'm going to go look at it up close."
He now had an excuse to walk in almost the opposite direction from the group. It looked like there was some pretty dense vegetation near the waterfall where he could hide himself while he tried to go. The sound of the running water should ease things along and mask the sound of his stream.
The plan failed however. The whole group wanted to look at the waterfall. Manda was so enamored with it she wanted to take pictures. She asked to use Chett's camera rather than the lousy one on her phone and her eagerly obliged. After a short while they resumed their hike. Each step made Chett's bladder sting.
The next one who broke away was Sarah. She was feeling claustrophobic and wanted to get back out in the open field downhill. Her boyfriend Liam went with her. Chett suspected it was her excuse to steal some time with him. It gave him an idea for his own excuse. If they were going downhill maybe he could go uphill. He announced his intention at the next fork in the path.
"I think I'll see how high up I can get. Take in the view. Take some pictures."
Tommy, Bella, and Manda acknowledged him but continued along the path they'd planned. It was perfect.
Chett's legs carried him quickly because his desperation gave him energy. After he'd gone a ways he had to leave the beaten path because it was going into an open area. He needed bushes or tall weeds or crowded trees but most of those were dangerously close to the trail his three comrades were walking.
Finally he spotted the perfect place. There was a lush thicket that would hide him perfectly for his unmentionable task. It was nice and isolated sitting above some limestone bluffs. Chett believed he had all the energy and motivation he needed to do some rock climbing.
After he had reached where the second story window would've been if the rock face was an apartment building he heard a cheerful girlish voice that made him freeze in place like a gargoyle on the side of a skyscraper.
"Chett!" Manda called. "Do you want your camera?"
He'd forgotten he didn't have a camera with him when it was essential to his excuse. After a moment of embarrassed scatterbrained mumbling he twisted around to face the girl while putting on an air of confident masculinity.
"Thank you but I don't need it after all. I'd rather take in the sights with only my own eyes. It's more special that way."
Manda bought that story and even remarked positively about his way of thinking. That solved one problem.
The problem of getting up the bluff was exacerbated however. It was much harder to climb knowing a girl was watching. Not just any girl. The girl he kind of liked. Motions that had come naturally to him a moment earlier were now difficult and deliberate. In the next ten minutes he only ascended a few body lengths.
"Wow," cooed Manda despite Chett's shortcomings. "You're quite a climber."
The compliment made the boy weak in the knees. It was a bad time for that. He lost his footing and fell head over heels.
The next thing Chett knew he was lying in Manda's arms. Her right arm was cradling his back and her left arm was holding him up at the knees. The tough young woman had caught him before he hit the ground and she hadn't even fallen over in the effort.
Chett was humiliated. He'd carelessly embarked on a dangerous activity and almost gotten himself hurt through his own clumsiness. Stacked on top of that was the shame of failing at something manly and having to be rescued by a girl.
The combination of burning embarrassment and heart-jolting fear made him breath rapidly and sweat heavily and blush profusely. But the fall had another effect on his body that humiliated him more than anything else about the disaster: He was having an accident in his pants.
It didn't stay in his pants for long however. His tight blue jeans and bent legs made sure of that. The cotton and denim absorbed a little of the hot golden liquid but most of it flowed right out of the bulge in his jeans and onto the rocky soil below. It flowed and flowed. His uncooperative body had forced him to hold an outrageously large volume and it was all pouring forth freely now.
It felt like an hour went by. Neither one of them said a word. The strange situation had frozen them in place. Manda held Chett in her arms and looked at him with an uncertain expression in her eyes while his eyes struggled to hold hack tears while his bladder held back nothing.
Once the bladder had become empty and the ground had become a small lake Manda raised her right arm and lowered her left arm and set the boy safely on the ground. Chett tried to speak but stopped himself in an instant because he was afraid he'd sob. His eyes were welling with tears. Then Manda did something unexpected: She hugged him with all her might.
In a comforting voice she said, "You poor boy. I never knew you had a cute side."
Chett was astonished. A girl had called him cute. She'd said it in a context that was strange and almost insulting but she had said he was cute and the boy knew he had to capitalize on this moment. He felt speechless but knew he had to speak anyway so he managed something.
"You remind me of my mother," he said. He scrambled for something better to say and came up with "You're so sweet."
"Let's go," Manda said enthusiastically while holding his hand. "Now's a great time to go swimming in our clothes." |
"Ugh! Why the hell did they put him in my cabin?!" Twelve-year-old Matt Hooper groaned. He was sitting next to Jeremy Preston, whom he had known from the last three summers at Camp White Lake. The boys were almost exactly the same age, with Jeremy being two months his senior.
Jeremy rolled his eyes and crossed his caramel-toned arms. "Whatever, at least your brother isn't doing smack," he hissed.
"What's smack?" Matt innocently asked.
Jeremy sighed deeply. "Never mind. My point is, Mikey isn't that bad. I mean, he's old enough to know when not to be a shithead."
Matt wasn't so sure. Mikey had just turned nine a week ago and he still wet the bed. He wasn't the worst, as far as little brothers go, but Matt worried that Mikey would want the top bunk and end up peeing all over the unsuspecting kid in the bunk below him. Matt also wasn't looking forward to sticking up for the kid all week long - he wanted to make friends and do his own thing. And there were definitely a lot of things going through his mind lately that only Jeremy seemed to understand. He brushed the auburn hair out of his eyes that was poking out the front of his back-turned baseball cap.
"Hope you brought sun screen, you pale freak," Jeremy jabbed.
Matt smiled; Jeremy had a thrillingly cruel way of speaking to his good friends and Matt knew he was on Jeremy's good side when he poked fun at Matt's ginger hair, or his too-skinny frame, or the inhaler that asthma dictated he needed. Matt also knew how to cut Jeremy down where it hurt, but he was too afraid to bring up Jeremy's family and the fact that they lived from welfare check to welfare check. The only reason Jeremy was able to come to camp was because the pastor at his church paid for him to go.
"Whoa, you're almost at the boss, Jason!" eleven-year-old Chris Chant exclaimed, kicking the seat in front of him. He shoveled another mouth full of gummy bears into his face. "Datsh amashing," he said, decapitating the bears with his teeth while speaking to his best friend. He was excited to finally be able to bring a friend to camp this year. Usually he just spent time shadowing his father's sermons and stealing candies from the tuck shop (to which his father had the key). Though Jason didn't much care for polite or idle conversation, he truly loved video games and that was the basis for the boys' unlikely friendship.
Jason said nothing, as usual. He didn't even look at Chris to acknowledge him; he just kept staring intently at the Gameboy screen.
"Wow, I've never even seen this level and I've been watching Video & Arcade every week since it came out and-"
"I don't care," Jason replied.
Chris kept stuffing bears in his mouth, "Datsh coo."
"You shouldn't put that much food in your mouth," Jason said flatly, "You might choke and die."
Chris swallowed hard. "Um, thanks, Jason." He put the gummy bears back in his bag for the remainder of the trip.
Mikey felt a harsh kick in the back of his seat, but said nothing. He was scared that ratting on another kid would make Matt hate him more for coming on this trip. It wasn't his fault though. Mom and Dad had made him come! They told him it would help him adjust better to new social situations and prepare him for middle school in the next year or so. He unwrapped the bologna sandwich Mom had packed for him, ripped off the crusts, and shoved the excess in his pockets. The sandwich was soggy and kind of disgusting. Bologna was Matt's favourite and every week Mom would alternate between the boys' favourite sandwiches for lunch. Mikey choked it down for fear that the cafeteria would serve only things he hated all week. He worried that Matt liked camp because of the food. He worried that he would wet the bed in front of the whole cabin. He worried they would see the stash of GoodNites that were rolled up in his sleeping bag. He took a long sip of his water and sat back, uncomfortably.
"Did that kid just kick your seat?" the teenage boy next to him asked, taking out his headphones. He was wearing aviators and a black Smashing Pumpkins "Zero" shirt.
Mikey shrunk back into his seat.
"Hey man, don't be so freaked out," the teenager smiled, "Did he kick your seat?"
Mikey nodded.
The teenager stood up and looked back at the two boys sitting in the seats behind them. "Yo, Chris, if you don't stop kicking my friend's seat, I'm going to tell your dad you've been stealing from the tuck shop. Keep your feet to yourself!"
The chubby kid with mouth full of gummy worms nodded fearfully, "Yesh shir."
The teenager grinned, showing his canines. "What's your name anyway?"
"Mikey," he whispered.
"You must be Matt's brother! I'm Dave, the leader for Cabin 1. I hear you get to hang with the older kids in Cabin 6; that's awesome!"
Dave went in for a high five and Mikey shyly reciprocated. "My brother likes Smashing Pumpkins too."
"Oh! Yeah, they're rad. Probably my favourite, maybe second to The Pixies."
"Pixies?"
"Here, man. My buddy Peter made me this sweet mix tape. I think you'll probably meet him - he must be leading Cabin 6 this week... anyway, have a listen." Dave handed Mikey his headphones and his walkman.
Eleven-and-a-half-year-old Nick Lacrosse sat at the very back of the bus, by himself. His mother had packed far too much survival gear for one week's worth of camping and it took up the majority of the seat beside him. Nick's mother, Ellen, had been overprotective of him since his father had passed away and though it cramped his style and kept him inside a lot of the time, he understood. This was the first summer that Nick had been trusted to be on his own, and at nearly twelve, Nick felt he was ready. After all, he was due to start middle school in a month and he felt this was part of his journey into adulthood.
Nick stared out the window of the bus. His mother told him it was only about an hour to White Lake, but after only a short while, he was getting antsy. Having nobody to talk to didn't help. He thought about reading his book for a little while, but worried he might make himself carsick and feared the embarrassment of throwing up in front of strangers. He took a long drink from one of the many water bottles his mother had packed and stared out the window at the cars racing down the highway in the opposite direction. He wondered where they were in such a rush to get to.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt the indisputable urge to go. Nick looked around to see if there was a bathroom on the school bus. No such luck - he knew that. "Jeez Nick. Get a grip," he thought to himself and slowly changed position.
It was only an hour to White Lake. How much longer could it possibly be? He would be fine.
Nick kept looking out the window and then looking back at the empty bottle of water. "Why did I drink all that water?" he kept asking himself, drawing no conclusions.
He checked his watch, then looked back at the traffic, then back at his watch. "Why does time go so slow when I need to..." he jiggled his legs, crossing and uncrossing. His bladder didn't seem to like either. He looked around again to see if there were any authority figures on the bus. Maybe he could ask them to stop at a gas station... He stood up, one leg crossed over the other, dancing from foot to foot, and looked around.
An older leader sitting in front of him turned around. "I need you to sit down when we're moving. We don't want to have any unfortunate accidents," the older, moustached man said.
"B-but-" Nick stammered.
"No buts. Sit your butt back down and I don't want to hear any arguments."
"But I have to-"
"We're going to be there in ten minutes, whatever you have to do can wait until then."
Nick gave up. The urge to go was getting stronger. He winced and scrunched himself up, but that didn't help either. He tried crossing his legs or sitting on one leg, but neither made him feel any better. His heart was pounding and his stomach felt like it was being pushed outward from his growing bladder.
He stuck his big backpack over his crotch and, for fear nothing else would work, unzipped his jeans and held onto his private under the cover of his overstuffed luggage.
Nick had never been in such a dire situation before. His legs kept jiggling and he held his breath while his grip tightened. He closed his eyes. "Please don't let me pee," he thought to himself.
All of a sudden, the urge let up and Nick felt really strange. He felt as if he still needed to go to the bathroom, but he wasn't able to. The grip around his penis felt different as well - it was harder. Nick was worried, but at the same time relieved. He pulled his underwear over his hard penis and zipped his jeans over it. In a weird way it felt good, but he wasn't sure why. He closed his eyes and his hand was wedged between his tight legs. "Please, please, please don't let me pee," he prayed.
It was then that the bus stopped. Nick grabbed all of his things and tried to put on his backpack so he could be the first one off the bus. He had no such luck, and as the kid at the back of the bus, he would have to wait. He stood up and waited impatiently, pee-pee dancing desperately. The funny feeling he felt in his penis hadn't gone away yet and it felt a lot better when he rubbed his crotch. He hopped from foot to foot and gripped his bursting penis in his hand. The second he was able to move off that bus, he wobbled as quick as he could down the aisle and out the door.
He approached the moustached man and asked, "Please - where is the bathroom?"
The moustached man pointed to a large, white-painted mess hall. "Over that way, you can't miss 'em."
Nick tried to run but the pressure was too much. He wobbled along as fast as he could. He could feel himself losing control. He felt it seep out a bit, but kept holding on. He knew he could make it.
He burst open the door of the bathroom and unzipped his pants. He was holding so tight he didn't think he could pull down his briefs without peeing his pants, so he stuck his hand down his underwear and held on. But it was strange and sticky... he pulled down his underwear to find a mucus-like substance all over the inside of his underwear. Nick was so shocked he almost lost control, but he regained focus and let loose into the urinal. He sighed deeply. Nick was so relieved that he had made it in time. When he was done, he wiped out his underwear with a paper towel and pulled them back on. They were cold and still sticky, but they would have to do. Nick washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror, making sure his wet underwear weren't visible. He noticed a small, damp, speck near the bottom of the crotch, but it was only the size of a dime. Nobody would notice.
"Looks like this is our cabin," Chris excitedly blabbered, throwing his bags down on one of the bottom bunks.
"Okay," Jason responded. He was still staring at his Gameboy.
"Do you want the top one? Or the one next to me?"
Jason shrugged and didn't look up from his game.
"You should take the one next to mine. That way we can play F1 together! I brought the link cables..."
"Okay."
"Whoa, is that Metroid II?!"
"Yes."
"I heard on Video & Arcade that Samus is a girl! Isn't that weird?"
"Yes."
"Hey, Jason, let's go for a walk. I want to show you something!"
"Okay." Jason put down his backpack and his over-sized military jacket, both of which were full of Gameboy games and strategy guides. He had insisted on bringing his whole collection to camp for fear he would get bored. His parents, while worried about his social coping abilities, were convinced that camp would be good for him. After all, Chris was a good friend to him and a shoulder to lean on when he needed it. Chris had yet to witness any of Jason's outbursts, as he was usually distracted by video games when they hung out together.
The boys walked for a while until they got to the trash cans behind the mess hall. "I've waited for soooo long to show this to someone! It's so cool," Chris blurted, almost too loudly. He took a sticky key out of his shorts pocket and opened up a secret door that led to a dark room. "C'mon in!"
"No," Jason said, finally looking up from his game.
"C'mon!" Chris pleaded.
"No!" Jason said firmly.
Chris grabbed his best friend's arm and yanked him toward the dark room, "Seriously! It's so cool!"
"No no no no no no no no no no!" Jason shouted, flopping away and dropping his Gameboy onto the ground. He stopped shouting.
Chris gasped as he saw Jason's favourite toy fall to the ground, screen down on top of a rock.
Jason screamed and dropped to his knees. He shakily picked up the Gameboy to find its screen not broken, but bent. He held it in his arms and started crying.
"J-Jason, it's going to be okay..." Chris stepped backwards towards the open door and shut it without locking it, for fear of others seeing what they were doing.
Jason kept crying loudly. Chris had never seen him in such a state before.
"It's just a Gameboy, Jason. You can have mine..."
Jason wasn't listening. He was starting to hyperventilate.
Mikey peeked around the side of the garbage can. "Hey," he said, "What's wrong with that kid?"
"There's nothing wrong! He just dropped his Gameboy!" Chris stuttered, trying to cover for his friend's social awkwardness. "How long have you been standing there?" Chris asked, fearful that the younger boy had seen him use the secret tuck shop key.
"Um, not that long?" Mikey had never seen an eleven-year-old cry before. It scared him a little. "Should we get one of the leaders?"
Chris sighed. "I guess."
Jason stopped wailing. He turned the Gameboy on and off. Miraculously, it still worked and he continued playing Metroid II.
"Whoa, it still plays?"
"Still works," Jason replied.
"I don't think you're supposed to have video games..." Mikey mumbled.
"Nah, that's for sure not a rule," Chris boasted.
"I don't think you're supposed to be sneaking around back here either..."
"Who said we were sneaking?" Chris pressed.
"Well, I saw you open that door..." Mikey started.
"You saw nothing." Chris handed Mikey a pile of gummy worms.
Mikey nodded, accepting the worms as a bribe.
Jeremy and Matt were sitting down by the dock in their swim trunks.
"Did you notice how hot Katie Lee got is this summer?" Jeremy asked.
"What?" Matt hadn't noticed anyone being 'hot'.
"Her hair is really soft and you can kinda see her boobs in that bathing suit, and she smells like coconut shampoo."
"That's gay," Matt huffed.
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "If you don't think Katie is hot, then you're the gay one."
Matt said nothing. He was pretty sure he wasn't gay. But he didn't find any girls hot either. He just felt like a kid and suddenly Jeremy was tall and tanned and ready to have a girlfriend.
"Aw man..." Jeremy covered his crotch. "Can we go in the water? I... I have a..."
Matt looked down, "A wha- oh."
Jeremy slipped into the water in an attempt to hide his erection. "Katie made me..."
"Yeah, um, me too..." Matt lied. He didn't even know what that felt like.
"Matt, have you ever, like, just layed in bed all day and just... jerked it?"
"Um..."
"Dude, it's what I've been doing all summer. All I think about is Katie and her older sister, Jessie."
Matt said nothing. He slunk deeper into the water, wishing he would grow up like everyone else.
Seventeen-year-old Peter Dixon had just arrived at Camp White Lake. He threw his things down on the leader bed, next to the door of Cabin 6. He had just returned from a Christian retreat with is whole family upstate and he was starting to wonder if becoming a youth pastor was really his calling. Hearing all the hatred for homosexuals in the church made him uncomfortable. He had met a few gay people in his travels and they were all wonderful children of God. And why wouldn't God love all his children? Peter wondered what Dave thought of the whole scenario. Dave's parents were fairly devout and Dave was for sure gay... wasn't he?
Peter sighed and stretched his arms out. He had at least a year to figure out whether he wanted to go to the Christian university his father taught at.
Dave knocked on the window of Peter's cabin. "Hey dude!" Dave took off his headphones and wore them around his neck, "how was that retreat thing?!"
Peter shrugged sheepishly. "It was fine I guess."
"Still thinking of applying to Trinity?"
"Um..."
Dave smiled. "It's cool, man. I'm probably not even going to university next year. These dudes I know are heading to Amsterdam next summer and I think I might tag along, check out the hostel scene in Europe... you know, do that whole backpacking deal and listen to sweet tunes all along the way! You should come!"
"Really?" Peter exclaimed, probably too excitedly.
"Yeah, really." Dave took off his sunglasses and sat down. "Man, I can't believe I got stuck with Cabin 1 this week."
"I don't think any girls signed up to be leaders this year. Usually they take the little ones and leave the weird hormonal ones to us."
"Ugh, yeah. The freaks are way easier to deal with though. You just shame 'em into doing what you want. The little ones don't have any shame. They just piss the bed and you have to clean up their unfortunate messes." Dave moved closer.
"Haha, gross," Peter mumbled. He adjusted his shirt to hide the fact that Dave was getting him hard. He looked down uncomfortably.
"You know it, man." Dave slapped Peter on the back and got up to leave, "See you tonight at the mess hall!"
"Hey, that's no fair!" Mikey shouted at his brother, "I wanted the top bunk!"
"Tough," Matt replied sternly. "Jeremy and Nick already got the other top bunks."
"But Matt!"
"Dude, no!"
"That's so not fair!"
Matt slid off the top bunk and came to sit next to his little brother. "Dude, it's totally fair," he whispered, "Cause if you pee the bed, then it won't drip on anyone. That's fucking gross."
Mikey went silent and stared at the ground in shame.
"Maybe when you stop wetting the bed like a little baby, you can sleep wherever you want," Matt whispered, even quieter.
Mikey wanted to cry, but just kept sitting there.
Chris sat up from the comic book he was reading. "Hey Mikey, it's cool. Bottom bunks are totally fine. How about I help you roll out your sleeping bag?"
"No-" Mikey warned. But it was too late. Chris had already unraveled Mikey's sleeping bag with his GoodNites wrapped secretly inside.
"Whoa, are those...?" Chris started.
Mikey quickly scrunched up the sleeping bag so nobody could see. "No. They're nothing."
Chris said nothing more. He had never been a bed wetter himself, but he felt sympathy for Matt's little brother. Being nine and still wetting the bed sounded like a nightmare of embarrassment.
"Alright, boys," Peter said, "It's time to head down to the mess hall. Dinner's at six, so we'd best get down there before we're picked for dish duty."
"Peter... can I go to the bathroom first and meet you guys there?" Mikey shyly asked, trying to hold back tears of embarrassment.
"Sure Mikey. Just be quick." Peter and the rest of Cabin 6 headed to the mess hall and Mikey undid his sleeping bag again.
He stared at the diapers his mom had packed. There was one for each night. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He was nine years old for God's sake. He didn't need these. He angrily wiped the tears from his face and grabbed all the diapers in his arms. There were garbage cans just next to the bathrooms that were situated next to Cabin 6. Mikey pushed all seven diapers as far down as they would go in the trash. "I'm not a bedwetter anymore," he thought to himself. If he believed it, it would become truth. Mikey wiped the tears off his face and splashed himself with cold water a few times before heading to the mess hall.
Mikey quietly sat down at Cabin 6's table next to his older brother and Nick.
"Dude, where were you?" whispered Matt.
"Um, I just had to go to the bathroom," Mikey lied.
"You do realize that if our whole cabin isn't here on time, we have to do dishes at the end of dinner, right?"
Mikey looked down at the table in shame.
"Mikey! Glad you could make it!" Peter chimed. "Looks like we're doing dishes tonight, man."
Mikey let out a sad, distressed sigh.
"It's all good, dude. Just means we get our turn out of the way first." Peter had a commanding power of positivity in his words, like Mikey had heard many times in pastors and preachers at various churches he had been to.
The camp director called up the cabins by number and, slowly but surely, Cabin 6 was called. Jeremy and Matt led the way with Mikey trailing behind them.
"You excited for the rice pudding and bologna sandwiches they serve here, Mikey?" Matt taunted.
Mikey made a vomiting motion. "Eww!"
"Yeah, but instead of raisins in the rice pudding, they're ants. You need protein, man," Jeremy chimed.
Mikey's stomach lurched. The hunger he felt was suddenly nonexistent. He watched his brother and Jeremy fill their dinner plates with chicken strips, and macaroni. Mikey took a spoonful of mash and a full cup of watered down iced tea back to the table.
"Not hungry, Mikey?" Peter asked.
Mikey shook his head, no. He took a meager bite of his mash and gulped down the iced tea. Mikey watched as Jason first lined up exactly five of each vegetable and five chicken strips and ate them meticulously. The other boys hungrily gnawed at the overcooked chicken strips and macaroni with sparing portions of cooked carrots, peas, and mashed potatoes. His stomach gurgled but thinking about ants in rice pudding put him off eating for the rest of their meal.
Matt watched his brother struggling and felt bad. He didn't really want his kid brother to starve. He pocketed a couple of chicken nuggets for later when Mikey would start whining about being hungry.
After slaving away over the dish pit, Cabin 6 was heading back to their bunks for a bit before Vespers.
"Peter, my dad asked if I could help him with the ceremony tonight..." Chris lied.
"Well, nobody told me that the reverend needed you to help out, but it sounds legit. Take a flashlight with you," Peter warned.
Chris grabbed his hoodie and large yellow flashlight and gave Peter the thumbs up. "Bye Jason!"
"Okay." Jason didn't even look up from his Gameboy. He was trying to beat Queen Metroid and trying to fight off the urge to go to the bathroom.
Chris waddled out the door and turned on the flashlight. It was time to raid the tuck shop before Vespers!
"Alright boys, we have about ten minutes before we have to head up to the lookout for Vespers and then campfire. If any of you need to use the restroom, now's your chance."
Mikey quickly got up and headed to the facilities, followed by his brother, Jeremy, and Nick.
"Jason, you don't need to go?" Peter queried.
"Gotta beat the Queen."
"Hey man, you should take advantage while you can. The fire pit and the lookout are pretty far from the bathrooms... I just don't want you to have an accident."
"In a minute. Gotta beat the Queen." Jason wiggled around in his bed. Jason hummed in desperation. His stomach gurgled and he could feel himself starting a bowel movement as he delivered the final blow to Queen Metroid. Jason slid off the bed slowly, put the Gameboy on his pillow, and very carefully headed for the bathroom. He felt naked without his games, but Peter had offered him an extra pack of liquorice from the tuck shop for going without the Gameboy during Vespers and Campfire.
Meanwhile, Chris was heading up past the tuck shop's secret door towards the lookout. He had broken into the secret entrance and was stuffing his pockets full of contraband candy. His stomach was already full after having three helpings at dinner, but there was always room for more gummy worms, chocolate bars, sour keys, and whatever other delicious candies lay beyond the door. Chris knew not to take more than six at a time - someone would notice if there was nothing left and he only had six pockets after all.
He quickly gobbled two chocolate covered marshmallow bars and licked the melted excess off his mouth. They were so delicious. Chris wished he could just eat candy all day long. He looked down at his light-up watch. It was nearly time for Vespers. Chris quickly locked up his secret stash and quickly waddled towards the lookout. Chris was starting to regret having thirds at dinner. His stomach hurt more than usual after a big meal. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to think about anything but throwing up. He breathed in deeply and continued on his way, trying to convince himself it would be okay.
When Chris got to Vespers, his father, Reverend John Chant, was already standing there next to the makeshift giant driftwood cross overlooking the inlet. "You're late, Christian."
"Sorry Dad," Chris gasped.
"Son, I've told you this before, you need to take it easy at dinner. I watched you get thirds... I know you're a growing boy but enough is enough. This is gluttony, Christian."
Chris stared at his feet, sheepishly. The shame had made his nausea cease and Chris didn't want to talk about food with his father at all.
John handed his son a sheet of the sermon and the songs Chris would lead. "Son, I don't mean to be hard on you. If you would rather hang out with your friends than help with Vespers, I understand."
"It's fine, Dad. I don't mind," Chris mumbled. He really didn't mind. He just didn't enjoy when his father guilted him about his supposed gluttony. He wasn't that bad, was he?
After Vespers, the boys were tramping through the forest towards the nearby fire pit for their nightly camp fire.
Chris's stomach was starting to feel even queasier as he waddled behind the rest of his cabin. He wanted to ask Peter if he could go back to the cabin and lay down but Peter seemed preoccupied talking to Cabin 1's leader, Dave. He closed his eyes and held his swollen stomach. Jason walked quickly in front of him, not even noticing Chris's discomfort. Chris needed to stop. He was sure he was going to throw up; he crouched down and lowered his head. He shut his eyes; the nauseous feeling ceased completely. Chris got back up and took a deep breath, "whew." He waddled over to where his cabin was sitting.
"Where were you?" Nick asked, "We thought a bear got you!"
"Oh, um, I needed to take a whiz so..."
"You peed in the forest?" Nick looked concerned.
"Yeah, it's not a big deal."
The look on Nick's face didn't change at all; he was definitely one of those kids who didn't get out much... thankfully he believed Chris's story.
Peter went up to the fire and began leading the boys in a round of "Alice the Camel." When he finished teaching the new boys that one, Peter invited Chris to come up and help lead a round of "Head and Shoulders."
Chris got up from his seat and went up next to Peter. He immediately felt sick again. He had to stop doing the actions for the song; the motions were not kind to his queasy tummy. Chris resorted to holding his gut and shutting his eyes. When Peter finally noticed his helper's predicament, it was too late. Chris leaned over and blew chunks all over the ground below. He took a deep breath and threw up again; this time, it was less chunky and more watery.
"Eww!" the campers exclaimed in harmony.
Peter grabbed Chris's arm and motioned to Dave to get all the campers organized and back to their cabins in an orderly fashion. He quickly walked with Chris to the bathrooms. "Are you still feeling sick, Chris?"
Chris nodded, "I think I ate too much dinner."
"We'll get you some water and clean you up. You'll be okay in the morning. I can grab you a bucket that we can put next to your bed in case you're sick during the night," Peter kindly suggested.
"Thank you," Chris whispered. He was red with embarrassment. He hoped Jason would still want to be his friend.
Chris was already asleep in his bed by the time the rest of Cabin 6 got back to their bunks. Dave dropped the boys off and said a quick "good night" to Peter before heading back to his cabin. Matt and Jeremy were quietly snickering about Chris's unfortunate puke incident. Mikey looked uncomfortable and shy, but Nick had slowly become friends with the youngest member of the cabin and was showing him how to make cat's cradle with some string he kept in his pocket. Jason was very excited to get back to his Gameboy and barely noticed his best friend was already basically unconscious.
Mikey could barely concentrate on what Nick was showing him - he was regretting throwing away all of his GoodNites. What if he was still a bedwetter?
Nick grabbed Mikey's hands and tried to show him how to fix the knots he had created, "Like this."
"I'm tired. Maybe we can try tomorrow," Mikey whispered as he let go of the string. He went to his backpack and looked for his pajamas.
Nick put the string in his pocket and found his pajamas. He removed his shirt and his pants... and discovered the sticky mess in his underwear had happened again. It wasn't as bad as earlier, but it was still unpleasant. He shyly hid his body and tossed the underwear in the bottom of his bag, quickly covering himself with his pajamas. Luckily, nobody noticed and Nick slunk beneath the covers of his sleeping bag.
Mikey felt very little shame, as he had shared a room with Matt for most of his life. He took his time putting on his pajamas, wondering if he should try and go pee before bed or if he would be okay. He decided against, as his feet were cold and he was tired. Mikey slipped on his pajama pants and curled up on the bunk below his brother.
Matt jumped down from his bunk. "Mikey, aren't you gonna brush your teeth?" Matt asked.
"Um, no," Mikey replied.
"Okay? What about... you know..."
Mikey looked confused.
"Aren't you gonna go pee?" Matt whispered, "Just in case?"
"No!" Mikey hissed, "I don't have to go."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Don't make me say I told ya so," he warned as he and Jeremy made their way to the bathroom for their final trip of the evening.
"It's lights out in ten minutes, boys. If any of you need to use the facilities, brush your teeth, or have a quick shower, now's the time," Peter warned.
Mikey pulled the sleeping bag over his head and shut his eyes. Camp was definitely tiring.
When the rest of the boys came back and Peter shut off his flashlight, Mikey felt like maybe he should've gone to the bathroom after all. But it wasn't too bad. He could probably make it until morning. It was too late now.
Mikey woke up to the excruciating and desperate urge to pee. He flung himself out of bed and walked as fast as he could to the bathroom, holding on with both hands. He was relieved to have made it all night, but at the same time he was afraid he wouldn't make it to the toilet in time. He held as tightly as he could and thankfully there was a hole in his pajama pants that he could pee out of, because he wasn't sure if he could get them off. The release was nice and... warm?
Mikey's eyes jolted open as he felt himself soak his sleeping bag. He gasped heavily and sat up in the pitch black. He looked around to see if anyone was awake, but he couldn't see anything. He finished going and the sleeping bag was completely soaked. Mikey was shaking with fear. Where would he sleep?! Why had he gotten rid of his GoodNites?! Mikey lay back down and started to cry.
The bunk bed started to shake. Mikey was scared that Peter would find him and yell at him and the camp would send him home.
"Hey, Mikey," came a familiar whisper from the darkness.
Mikey sniveled, "Matt?"
"Are you okay?" Matt whispered.
"Matt... I... I peed..."
Matt said nothing and came and sat with his brother, "It's okay. Did Mom pack you another pair of pajamas?"
"Yeah..."
"Okay, let's go to the bathroom and you can change and shower... I'll see if Peter can get you another sleeping bag."
"N-no... he'll be mad!"
"It's fine. It happens," Matt reassured his little brother. He went over to Peter's stand alone bed and shook him awake. "Peter..."
"Mmmm what?" Peter groggily shook himself awake.
"My brother wet the bed," Matt told him, "Can we get him a new sleeping bag?"
"We might have some blankets at the nurse's station. I don't have a key though... he'll have to wait until tomorrow. Sorry," Peter closed his eyes.
"We're going to the bathroom to clean Mikey up," Matt said, "We'll be back soon."
"Mm-hmm," Peter replied, slowly getting up from his bunk to deal with Mikey's accident.
Matt took his brother's hand and his backpack and they headed to the bathroom.
"Rinse yourself off in the shower and then put on your new PJs," Matt commanded.
His little brother was still sobbing. "Matt! My tummy hurts!"
"Are you gonna puke?"
"N-no..."
"Do you need to eat something? You had next to no dinner." Matt handed him the two chicken nuggets he had stashed earlier. "Seriously, dude, you need to eat. And next time it's nearing lights out, go to the friggin' bathroom."
"Okay," he weakly replied. Mikey wiped the tears from his eyes and scarfed down the cold nuggets. He then removed his wet pajamas and had a quick shower.
Nick woke to the sunrise... totally wet. A cold sweat trickled down his back. Had he wet himself the same as little Mikey? It couldn't be... he hadn't wet the bed for years! He pulled back his sleeping bag and looked down. His pajama pants were soaked and... sticky. It wasn't pee though. He groaned almost inaudibly and realized Jeremy was looking at him.
"Hey," Jeremy whispered.
"Hey...?"
"Did you have one too?"
"One what?"
"You know, dude. A wet dream."
"Um... no?"
"Oh my god. You don't even know what a... ugh. Come with me to the bathroom," Jeremy grumbled.
"Um..."
"God! Just trust me for five seconds, you loser." Jeremy slid off the bunk and Nick followed suit. Nick followed his mentor into a shower stall and Jeremy turned on the water. "When did you first start getting them?"
"Getting what?"
"Fucking boners!" Jeremy exclaimed.
"Oh, um, just this week."
"Thank God I thought I was the only dude here. Has anyone shown you what to do? My mom's boyfriend showed me how to fix it."
"No..."
Jeremy pulled down his shorts to reveal his erect penis. He began to demonstrate for Nick how to jack off. Jeremy closed his eyes and came quickly. "I like to think about Katie Lee in a bathing suit. It helps sometimes."
Nick was so nervous to try Jeremy's method. "So if you do that before you go to sleep, you won't... wake up like this?"
"Hopefully," Jeremy replied. "Mom's boyfriend says the best way is to put your dick inside a girl..."
Nick shook his head. The thought of that horrified him.
Chris wasn't awake yet, but Jason had decided to get up early and practice playing through F1 again. He knew he would beat Chris, as he always did, but Jason didn't want to get rusty at games. As he drove around the loop, he felt the urge to pee growing. Jason grabbed his crotch desperately, but couldn't face losing this round. He fell behind a few cars and wiggled around in his sleeping bag.
Peter looked over at Jason playing his game. "Hey man, you're taking that race pretty seriously."
"Gotta win," Jason gritted his teeth. He took one hand off the Gameboy to adjust his crotch, falling behind even more. Jason was losing both battles, but the race was nearly over.
"Hey Jason, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Peter queried.
"In a minute," Jason grunted, "Gotta win."
"Dude, you look like you really have to go. You sure you don't wanna just hit pause? We've got a while before breakfast."
"No!" Jason shouted, kicking off the covers of his sleeping bag, revealing his wriggling, desperate frame. Tears were running down his rosy cheeks. Jason felt himself losing control and shoved a hand down his pajama pants. He hit the accelerate button with his nose; he couldn't see the screen but knew the course off by heart. "Ughh," he grunted. He had made it to the end of the race... albeit in last place. He set down the Gameboy and got up to go to the bathroom, dancing vigorously with both hands holding his privates. Jason headed to the bathrooms and when he got there, the other boys had taken all of the stalls. The urinals were free, but Jason couldn't go in front of other boys. The pee-pee dance was no longer helping him hold it in. He knocked on the door of one of the stalls, "I have to go to the bathroom!" he shouted.
"Hold your horses!" another boy shouted back.
"No! I have to go right now!" Jason awkwardly screamed, "I'm gonna pee my pants!" He shut his eyes and scrunched his legs together. "Hurry up!" His heart was pounding. He tried to scrunch himself smaller and smaller but the ache between his legs was growing. A stream of urine shot down his leg. Then another. And another. Jason let loose just as Nick emerged from the toilet stall. Jason screamed and began to cry.
Jeremy came out from the one next to him. "Whoa, what the fuck? That weird kid pissed himself, but there's urinals right there."
Nick said nothing and walked back to Cabin 6 with Jeremy in tow.
Back at the cabin, Peter was laying down and reading his favourite passages in Leviticus when Nick came running in. "Peter! Jason peed his pants!"
Peter sighed deeply. "Great. I'll take care of it. Matt and Jeremy, can you two lead the rest of the cabin down to the lake for the swim test? Let the director know I'll be down after I take Jason to the nurse's station."
Jeremy rolled his eyes and Matt shyly pulled a T-Shirt over his boyish body. He didn't want to go swimming with Jeremy and Nick. He felt like a little kid.
Peter headed to the bathrooms where Jason was laying on the floor in a puddle of his own urine, screaming.
"Hey man. Let's go get you cleaned up. I brought some clothes for you for after your shower. Accidents happen."
Jason got up slowly, no longer screaming but tears were streaming down. Peter handed him a towel to wrap around his waist and they walked up to the nurse's station where there was laundry and a more private shower.
When they got there, Dave was filling in for the nurse, who was taking care of all of Cabin 1, who had somehow all gotten food poisoning from the peanut-free snacks one of them had brought. "Sup, Peter?" Dave smiled, showing all his teeth. His sunglasses were still on and he managed to look cool even in an unpleasant place like the medical supply cabin.
"Hey Dave. Jason just needs to use the shower... we'll wash his clothes and then we're heading down to the lake."
Dave nodded, "Cool man. Yeah, accidents happen. Usually just to Cabin 1, but... whatever."
"Shower's just around the corner, Jason," Peter gestured, "Just give yourself a quick rinse and put on your new clothes. We'll take care of the laundry."
Jason said nothing. He was quick to clean himself and quick to leave for the lake.
Dave raised an eyebrow. "How is it that your preteen cabin has more issues than the six-year-olds?"
Peter snickered. "I have no idea."
"And how is it that you and I are on opposite ends of the camp ground but we keep running into each other?"
Peter blushed, "I guess we're just meant to be..."
Dave grasped Peter's hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Peter closed his eyes and reciprocated with his lips, bringing his body closer. Their torsos and groins rubbed together awkwardly.
"I want you..." Dave whispered, his hand slowly caressing Peter's erect penis, just as Reverent Chant pushed open the door.
Edited October 24, 2017 by morgan91
(see edit history) |
It was Garfield's first day of grade two and he was about to start a new school on the fancier side of town. Mummy had just married Dallas, who was a lawyer and had a lovely home for them to live in that looked out over the sea. Garfield liked it much better now that he didn't have to share a bed with Mummy. He had a whole room to himself and toys spread all over the floor. Garf had spent the whole summer exploring the yard and playing with all the new toys Dallas had generously bought for him. Dallas offered to sign his step-son up for t-ball and soccer, but Garf wasn't much for team sports. He was more of an imaginative, bookish loner. Dallas didn't fully understand Garf's shyness, but he accepted the boy without an argument.
"Are you ready for your first day, Garfie?" Mummy called, cheerfully. Garf could tell that she had already broken into the champagne. He remembered a time when every day wasn't a celebration and she never touched things like champagne.
"Yeah," he replied, shakily. He had butterflies in his tummy. What if the other kids didn't like him? What if nobody wanted to be friends? What if the school work was too hard and everyone was way smarter than him? He dawdled and gripped the banister tightly as he made his way to the bottom floor.
"Come on, Garfie, we're gonna be late!"
Garfield's tummy grumbled. He could feel the orange juice and fried eggs he'd had for breakfast angrily sloshing around in there, but he said nothing. He knew Mummy had work today and couldn't look after him at home if he felt sick.
"There's my handsome boy! Are you excited for school, sweetheart?"
Garf stared at his shoes shyly.
"It's gonna be okay, sweetie. I know it's hard making new friends but I know you'll do great. And I know you're nervous, but just take it one step at a time. Focus on breathing. You're fine." Mummy gave Garf a big hug. "I love you, sweetheart."
When they got into the car, Garf still wasn't feeling great. He closed his eyes and tried to think of happy times, like reading a story with Mummy or finding cool places to drive his trucks in the yard, but nothing worked. Garf tried breathing for a little while too, but the butterflies wouldn't cease. "Mummy..."
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Mummy I don't feel very good..."
"We're almost there, but we've got time to stop." Mummy pulled over the van to the side of the road. There were lots of kids with backpacks walking to school. Garfield opened the door of the van and let in some fresh air. His tummy felt a little better, but he still felt nauseous. Mummy came around and picked him up out of the seat. "Let's sit down for a little while. We've got time before we need to find your classroom."
Garf sat on Mummy's knee and she stroked his hair for a little while. He snuggled in closer to Mummy. His tummy wasn't feeling much better, but maybe a cuddle would help if nothing else. Mummy felt his forehead, but he didn't have a fever; it was just nerves and carsickness.
"Looks like you're not coming down with anything. I think you're just a bit carsick," Mummy said. "Does your tummy feel a little better?"
Garf snuggled closer.
"Come on, sweetheart. I don't want you to be late..."
"Okay Mummy," Garf weakly mumbled. He got up from her lap and promptly threw up his breakfast onto the sidewalk. Thankfully he was far enough away from the kids walking to school that nobody saw.
"Garfie! Are you okay?" She took a kleenex from her purse and wiped the excess vomit from his mouth. Tears of embarrassment were running down his face.
Garf shook his head and went in for another hug. "I'm scared of school and I don't feel good!"
"I know, I know," Mummy replied. "Sometimes we have to do things that are a bit scary and sometimes we get so scared that we feel a bit sick, bit it's all going to be okay. I promise. Today's a short day too. I'll be back for you before you even know it!" She buckled him in and they drove the rest of the way to school in silence.
When they got to the school, Garf was feeling a lot better. He was ready to conquer the day and make new friends. He held Mummy's hand and they asked the office ladies where Mrs. Byron's grade 2 class was. They were both slow and old and their hair looked like noodles tied up in buns atop their wrinkly heads. Garfield definitely felt a little scared of them at first, but they were nice enough. Mummy guided him down the hallway and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry," she whispered.
The hallway felt big and Garf felt very small in comparison with all of the other kids and teachers. He wondered if anyone had ever gotten lost in this school. He wondered if any kids had gotten so lost that nobody ever found them. That gave him shivers and with those shivers came the sudden, but strong urge to pee. He scrunched his legs together and walked a little slower.
"You don't need to be nervous, honey. Nobody's going to be mean to you here," Mummy said.
"I... I know," Garf stuttered. He was concentrating on holding, and also looking for a boy's room. He saw one for girls at the end of the hall, but no such luck. He wondered if he could hold it until he met his new teacher.
"Here's your classroom, sweetheart. I've got to head to work. Just remember, be yourself today. I love you!" Mummy told him and gave him a hug. Garf hugged back and quickly readjusted his legs as the urge to go became stronger still.
"I love you too, Mummy." Garf walked into the classroom and looked up at his very tall, red-headed teacher.
"Hello there!" she knelt down next to him, "I'm Mrs. Byron... and you must be Garfield."
Garf danced from foot to foot, trying to calm his bladder. "Mm-hmm."
"You can put your bag in the cloakroom on the hook that has your name written above it... and then over there next to the blonde, curly-haired boy is your desk!"
"Th-thanks," Garf whispered almost inaudibly.
"It's okay to be a bit shy on your first day, Garfield. But the kids in this class are very kind and I know they'll want to meet you."
Garf nodded and half-smiled. He was more worried about making it to the bathroom on time than making any new friends. He hung up his coat and backpack underneath his name and then squeezed his privates, trying his hardest not to let loose. When he came out of the cloak room, he went up to Mrs. Byron, trying to get the courage to ask for the bathroom, but immediately, the room fell silent and he was wiggling at the front of the class next to the teacher.
"Class, this is our new student, Garfield. He's just transferred from Southgate and he probably would like some new friends to play with at recess. Garfield, what do you like to play?"
Garf wiggled and danced from foot to foot. He was in full pee-pee dance. "I, um, I like to play... trucks. And I like, um, hide and seek, and, um, lots of games I guess," he mumbled. He kept wiggling and dancing. He didn't want to ask for the bathroom in front of the whole class.
"You may take your seat, Garfield. We're going to do some quick math questions." Mrs. Byron handed out addition sheets starting with the row farthest from Garf's seat. He was really wiggling now. He could feel himself losing the battle. Both of his hands were in his crotch, holding on for as long as he could. He was getting so worried about peeing his pants that he considered just running down the hallway to the girl's room. When Mrs. Byron got to Garf's seat, she lay the paper on his desk and very quietly asked, "do you need to use the restroom?"
Garf nodded sheepishly and Mrs. Byron gave him the pass.
"It's down the hallway and past the office on the left side. And if you need to go, just ask before it's too late," Mrs. Byron smiled.
Garf could barely get out of his seat. He held himself as he sauntered out of the classroom and down the hall past the office. He could feel his grip slipping a bit and a little bit of pee seeped into his undies. But that was okay. When he got to the bathroom, the stalls were all taken and there were only urinals. Garf had never used one before and he was scared. On the verge of peeing his pants, he decided to try it only to find that he was clenched too tight to pull them down. Garf kept dancing and holding, trying to find a way to pull his jeans down without peeing everywhere. He could feel the pressure building and building and he was running out of time. He let a little more pee out into his undies, this time by accident. He held his crotch tighter, but couldn't loosen his jeans at all.
Garf had an idea. He undid his button and the fly of his jeans and reached to pull out his wiener, but there was no hole in his new undies... and it was too late. He started going and he couldn't stop the flow. His pee leaked through his new undies and into his jeans, all down the middle of his legs and into his socks. He just kept going. Garf was shocked. He didn't know what to do or where to go. He just sat on the bathroom floor crying in wet pants. |
When You've Got To Go...
Anders sat at the breakfast table next to his sister, Emma, and brother, Casey. He was wearing his new electric blue snowsuit and was anxious to use it. "Casey, will you go outside with Anders while Emma and I get ready?" Mom asked, "I'm dropping her off at a friend's and then I'm going to work, so you need to be here with your brother the whole day." Casey rolled his eyes; he was ten years older than Anders, and at fifteen he had better things to do than babysit. He stared at his younger brother in resent. "Come on, let's go outside."
Anders grabbed his matching electric blue jacket from the rack and headed out the door. Casey sat on the front step and sighed, his breath hanging in the air like fresh smoke. "Come on, Casey! Help me build a snow man!" Anders called.
"Build it yourself, retard!" Casey grunted.
"Come on! I need help!"
"Build it yourself!"
"COME ON, CASEY!" Anders whined, stomping his electric blue boots into the new snow.
"Fine," Casey muttered.
Out the door came Mom and Emma. "I'm locking the door, Casey," Mom called, "Have fun boys!" And to Anders she whispered, "Be a good boy," and kissed his forehead.
Just as soon as the car had left the driveway, Anders said with a desperate look on his face, "I have to go pee-pee."
Casey rolled his eyes and went for the door.
"Mommy locked it, 'member?" Anders said.
Casey whispered a swear and searched his jacket pockets. Then he swore again.
"Hurry up, Casey! I have to go pee-pee!" Anders demanded. He was dancing about, trying to hang on inside the padded blue snowsuit.
"Just hold on, okay?" Casey instructed as he searched for an open window.
"Hurry!" Anders squealed.
Casey pulled himself up the old oak tree and into his bedroom. He ran down to the front door and opened it frantically. Anders stood there at the stoop, hands between his legs. "I have to go really, really bad!" Tears were dribbling down his face.
"Come on, run!" Casey instructed.
"I can't! I have to go too badly!" Anders whined. Casey grabbed his brother's arm and rushed him to the toilet. He yanked off the blue snowsuit and tried to pull down his brother's jeans. "I can't get my pants down!" Anders cried.
"Loosen yourself then," Casey told him.
"I can't! I'm gonna pee all over!"
Casey yanked his brother's pants down just in the nick of time.
"Casey! My undies! I peed in my undies!" Anders whimpered. And sure enough, his white truck underwear were wet and stained.
Casey sighed. "It's not your fault, it was an accident. Now go change and I'll make you some hot chocolate."
When Anders came back down he was wearing his overalls and dragging his snowsuit. "These ones are my favourite," he said.
Casey shrugged and poured his brother some hot chocolate. Anders finished it in three gulps. "More," he demanded. Casey poured another and Anders finished his second cup just as fast. "Now let's go sledding at the park!"
"Fine," Casey replied, grabbing his wallet, smokes, and the key. "Do you have to pee?"
"No, I just went!" Anders protested.
"Okay then," Casey said and helped his brother back into the electric blue snowsuit. Then they went to the garage to get the sled. It was a one person sled made of a red plastic sheet. It had been Casey's until he outgrew it. "Are you ready?"
Anders shook his head, blushing, "I have to go pee-pee again!"
Casey grunted and opened the door. "Make it quick!"
Anders ran down the hall to the bathroom, and then he frantically shouted, "Casey!"
The older brother ran down to the bathroom where Anders was standing in front of the toilet, doing the pee-pee dance and trying to undo his overalls. "Can you help me?!"
Casey sighed and undid his brother's overalls just in time. Casey thanked God it hadn't happened at the park.
When Anders was ready, they left for the park. About half way there, Anders started walking funny. "Do you have to go pee?" asked Casey. Anders shook his head and kept walking. Every once in a while he would stop and pull on his crotch and turn around. Casey just rolled his eyes. He took out a smoke and lit up. "If you tell Mom or Dad about this, I'll tell them you peed your pants again." Anders nodded and squeezed his crotch again. Then they were at the park. "Go play over there on the hill. I'll wait here."
Anders shuffled over to the hill where he set up his sled next to a little blonde girl on a pink plastic sled. "I'm Lauren, what's your name?" she asked.
Anders wiggled and said, "I'm not telling!"
"Why are you sitting like that, Inotelin?" Lauren asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Cause..." Anders murmured, blushing.
"You look like you're gonna pee your pants when you sit like that," Lauren informed him.
Anders wiggled again, tugging harder at his crotch.
"You're weird," Lauren said.
"No I'm not! You're weird! You're weird and a stupid ugly-head!" Anders shouted in defense.
Lauren stood up from her sled, letting it slide down the hill. She stomped her pink boots into the ground and shouted, "You're a meanie-butt!" pushing the unsuspecting Anders down the hill. He screamed and fell over, realizing he'd let loose. Anders started to cry. He threw down his sled and looked down at his blue suit, now stained with wet. It had leaked out and as he cried, more pee came, making a puddle on the ground underneath him. "Casey!" he screamed, "Casey I peed!" |
Hello, everyone, I have a new story. This one's gonna be a bit different from my usual ones, and is much slower paced than the others. This first chapter contains desperation and fear wetting, but later ones will involve messing as well. Any feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you guys enjoy.
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“So this path here will get us there faster?” Hazel asked.
“Faster than most,” Alma replied.
Their horse-drawn carriage rattled along the cobblestone path. The old, rickety wheels squeaking in protest at the movement. Hazel’s eyes scanned the treeline surrounding them. Tall oak trees surrounded them, creating an almost impenetrable-looking forest wall. Hazel’s heart skipped a beat as a sudden bout of claustrophobia surged through her.
“... And, where did you learn about this path?” Hazel continued her questioning, still staring off into the forest.
“At the tavern, just before we left Westacre,” Alma pointed her thumb behind them, gesturing to the town they’d set out from earlier that day, “A traveler recommended this road, said it would get us over to Arnwick twice as fast as any other path,”.
“Did he perhaps mention if this path was… safe?” Hazel managed to keep most of her concern out of her voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with this place.
“Most paths aren’t,” Alma answered flatly. While her left hand continued to clutch the reins, her right one hoisted up her elegant crossbow, “That is why I’m carrying this,” Hazel’s eyes fell to the quiver that was full almost to bursting with crossbow bolts. What little daylight remained danced off the silver heads of the bolts.
Silver, she thought, so she’s expecting more than just wolves.
Alma turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at Hazel, her expressionless face changed to a calm smile, “I do this sort of thing for a living, Hazy. I haven’t been killed yet, and I’m sure as hell not gonna let you get killed on your first outing”
Hazel looked into Alma’s pale blue eyes, and she believed her. Alma had been a hunter for many years, and she was damn good at it. She had also once been Hazel’s best and closest friend, until circumstance had driven them apart six years ago. Only two weeks ago had the two rekindled their friendship. Hazel had expected the two would practically be strangers after so much time apart, but the moment they started talking, it was as though they hadn’t been apart for more than a day.
Hazel was further comforted as she inspected her friend’s apparel and equipment. The differences in their career choices were evident just from a single glance. Alma wore a black, wide-brimmed hat, a dark brown leather coat that reached halfway down her thighs, a crimson shirt, and black pants. A cross necklace dangled near her modest breasts. Years-old scrapes, tears, and claw marks dotted her coat. More than a few knives were sheathed on her belt. And Hazel knew that, though Alma’s clothes hid them, her physique was nothing to scoff at. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose bun behind, leaving some strands free, and allowing for a clear view of her hardened facial features, which had been slightly tanned from her time in the sun. She looked every bit the demon-killer that she was.
Hazel, by comparison, looked frightfully plain. Almost ironically memorable by virtue of being so forgettable. At least, by her own judgment- Alma and several others had insisted that she was being too hard on herself, but Hazel was unconvinced. Her blonde hair hung just past her shoulders, whipping ceaselessly about in the wind. She had the clean, unmarred face and hands of someone who’d never had to struggle for much. Her bright, green eyes stood out against the paleness of her face. Her small frame was covered by a dark red dress with black adorning its edges. It was old enough that she didn’t mind it getting dirty, and loose enough that she could run easily if she had to. She was nearly twenty-four years old, yet she still had an air of almost childlike innocence about her.
Issues of her own confidence aside, she was reassured by her friend’s presence. Alma was the type of person to rise to any challenge, who would face any foe and not back down. Hazel felt that she, herself, was more the type to piss herself and hide if things got truly dangerous.
Speaking of pissing, Hazel was beginning to feel the urge to relieve herself. She wondered how Alma handled this when she was out here, all alone. Surely, she couldn’t just stop a hunt, or leave her client behind to go water the grass. Did she just have to hold it? What did she do once she just… couldn’t anymore? Hazel chuckled lightly at the thought of this brave monster hunter having to wet her pants, then continue her job like nothing happened. What if she had to do worse? At any rate, she didn’t want to force Alma to stop the carriage for her, so she kept her mouth shut for the moment.
To distract herself from her growing needs, she thought back to her home that she was leaving behind in Westacre. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d ventured beyond the boundaries of her home town. But monster attacks had reduced the traders and caravans coming in to a trickle, and she worried that the town would soon be dried up. It was a stroke of luck that she had reacquainted with Alma, who was extremely well-versed in braving the wilderness. The two agreed upon a plan to travel to Arnwick, a popular town that wasn't going away any time soon. She envisioned the lovely shop she would own in Arnwick, getting to know the new people, getting to try all the local flavors. It was a trivial thing to be excited over, but she was excited nonetheless.
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Night had come. The two had made camp just off the road. Almost immediately, Alma had made a ring of salt around the camp. When Hazel had asked why, Alma answered that it would keep the beasts away, otherwise something would likely attack them in the night. Her answer had been quick and to-the-point, but it was nonetheless enough to frighten Hazel into holding her urine even longer. She didn’t wish to venture past the salt-line and into the dangerous woods to relieve herself, but she also didn’t wish to piss on the ground right in front of her old friend.
So it was that she came to be inside of their tent with Alma sleeping soundly beside her. Hazel, however, was not asleep. She was lying on her side with both of her hands pressed into her womanhood. Her mind was racing as she weighed her options. She was mere moments from completely pissing herself and, at this distance, pissing on Alma as well. She really didn’t want to do that, but if she just peed outside the tent, Alma could wake up and find her in the middle of the act. And, of course, to venture beyond the salt-line…
Of her three options, two were utterly humiliating, and one was potentially deadly.
A quick psssshhh sound, accompanied by a sudden warmth at her crotch and on her hands made her blood run cold. She had just peed a little. She had to make up her mind quickly, or else her body would happily decide for her.
She groaned internally, before forcing herself to rise, and walk outside the tent. She held herself tightly through her short, white nightgown, yet even so, every step threatened to be her last dry one. She hitched up the hem of her gown, and hooked her thumbs into her panties, preparing to lower them. Glancing back, she noticed Alma stirring slightly in her sleep. She would surely awaken at the noise that Hazel would make. Another quick spurt escaped from her, warming her groin once more. This time, however, she could feel a bead of wetness trickling down her right thigh.
Groaning aloud this time, she moved for the salt-line. I just need a minute- less really! She thought, with great desperation, Just need to find a tree, empty myself, and come back, nice and simple!
Once she was far away enough that she was sure Alma would not hear her urinating, she lowered her panties and squatted. Her body didn’t need any convincing to release its pent-up liquids. She sighed with deep, genuine relief as her pee splashed against the dirt and grass. The hissing sound dominated the otherwise quiet forest. She glanced down to inspect the damage to her underwear, and grimaced at the wet patch, a few inches in diameter. The white fabric had turned somewhat see-through. She would have to ensure that she was the one to wash their clothes, lest Alma happen upon her pissed-in panties.
Hazel heard a sudden noise behind her. Nothing so simple as the snap of a twig, or the rustling of branches. It was a horrible, sucking sound, one that seemed to echo, despite being fairly quiet. Whatever the wind must sound like in Hell, she was sure it was a similar kind of sound. She was petrified with fright. Her hairs stood on end, and her bladder continued to empty, showing no signs of stopping, or even slowing. An eerie, iridescent greenish-blue light illuminated the forest around her, and the horrible, echoing sound was closer now.
Shaking like a leaf, she blinked away tears. She felt an emptiness in her gut that made her feel like she going to vomit. She knew what this was: Fear. True fear. She’d been afraid before, or at least thought she had, but she had never known real terror like this. The echoing sound was so close, now, just behind the tree she was squatting near. She took as deep a breath as she could, yanked her panties back up, and sprinted back towards the camp.
The light and the bone chilling sound it produced took off after her. She didn’t dare turn her head to look at it. She rushed through branches and bushes, feeling them tear her gown and cut into her flesh. She felt something else, despite her attempts to ignore it: hot urine coursing down her thighs. In the back of her mind, she realized that she had never stopped peeing, even after she had yanked her underwear back up. With each frantic step, droplets of piss were flung from her legs, which were steaming in the chill night air. Her movements had caused the pee to run in erratic rivulets all down her legs, and her panties were soaked from front to back. The wetness had even reach the front and back of her gown.
She tried to call out for Alma, but she could not find her voice, only frightened whimpers emerged. Finally, after what felt like hours of running, she crossed back over the line of salt. If Alma was right, the creature should follow her past it. The combination of fear and exhaustion caused Hazel to trip, and her hand slammed down into the pots they’d use to cook the night’s meal. The metal instruments were flung about, making quite a lot of noise, but Hazel wasn’t the least bit interested in them. She rolled over, now laying on her back, then sat up. At long last, she saw the creature that had chased her.
It looked like a man, but his flesh was rotted, and cloaked in a bright, greenish-blue light. A ghost, no doubt. Hazel had heard they haunted the forests, but she had never seen one. It just floated there, glaring hungrily at the woman. It seemed Alma was right about them not being able to pass the salt-line. Staring at the frightful creature, she felt the last of her urine trickle out of her, the warmth seeping into her bottom, then pooling below her. Most of her urine had passed, so her puddle was only a few inches across.
In the blink of an eye, the flaps to the tent had flown open, and Alma emerged. She had clearly just been shaken from her sleep, and was only wearing her black bra and panties, along with her coat that had very hastily been thrown on. Her powerful, rippling muscles wound up and down her body, and her hair hung loose around her head. Her eyes darted from Hazel to the spirit, seeming to take in the situation almost instantly. Alma reached inside the tent, and retrieved her crossbow and a silver bolt. Faster than Hazel thought possible, the weapon was loaded and aimed at the ghost. Alma didn’t hesitate even for a second before letting the bolt fly.
Unlike any other weapon would have done, the silver bolt penetrated into the ghost, jutting out of the spirit just as though it had struck flesh. Giving off an echoing howl, the spirit writhed in agony, then dissipated entirely. The bolt remained levitating in the air for a brief moment, then plummeted back down to earth.
“Hazy, what did you-” Alma began sternly, but stopped as Hazel’s tear-filled eyes looked up at her. After a moment of silence, the hunter settled on saying “Are you alright?”.
Hazel didn’t bother to see if her voice had returned, she just nodded. Alma lowered her hand, and offered it to Hazel. The moment that she was on her feet again, Hazel collapsed into Alma, wrapping her arms around her tightly, “Alma...” she choked out between sobs, “I was so… so scared...”
Alma awkwardly returned the hug, trying to stabilize her friend, “I know, I know, but it’s okay now,”.
Once Hazel had come to her senses, she realized that the pee-soaked cloth of her gown and panties had been pressed up against Alma’s thigh. She broke off the hug, and took a step back, embarrassedly covering the wet patch with her hands. Alma’s eyes followed the movement until they reached her crotch.
Throwing her arm over Hazel’s shoulder, Alma lead her friend towards their supplies, “Let’s get you changed, then you need to rest,”.
Hazel continued to lean into her friend for support until they retrieved a box that contained some spare clothes from the parked carriage. Alma averted her eyes, giving her some privacy. Hazel was ashamed as she realized how easy the whole situation could have been. Instead, she’d risked her life to try and stave off some embarrassment, and failed anyway. After a couple of minutes, Hazel emerged from the carriage, now wearing a clean set of underwear and a fresh gown.
Her misery must have been pretty obvious, as Alma stopped her on their walk back to the tent. Next to each other, the hunter stood almost a full head taller than Hazel. Her face once again shifted to that warm smile, “Don’t look so sad, Hazel. This sort of thing happens all the time,”
Hazel dared to meet her friend’s gaze, “Even to someone like you?” Hazel asked in harsh, skeptical voice.
“What, you think I’ve never pissed my pants before? Never shit my pants before?” The hunter smiled earnestly, “Hazy, I fight those things almost every day. I’ve soiled more pairs of pants than you could count,”.
Hazel looked away from her friend, eyeing the dirt. She felt a strong hand clasp her shoulder, then heard Alma speak again, “You are so hard on yourself, and you don’t deserve even a word of things I know you think about yourself,” Hazel felt more tears coming to her eyes, “I’ve never seen anyone want to be a better person more than you, Hazy; and that’s why I know that you’ve got what it takes to do this. That’s why I know you’ll come out of this just fine, and be stronger for it. That’s why...” she paused until Hazel looked her directly in the eyes, “That’s why I know that you’ll come out of this as a better person. Because you always do, even if you never realize it,”.
Once again, Hazel hugged her friend tightly as she wept, although this time under much happier circumstances. The two returned to bed; Hazel was physically and mentally exhausted, and Alma was eager to return to sleep. They would need their energy for the road ahead. The journey to Arnwick had only just begun.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
I meant to have this posted some time ago, but some drama at work got someone fired, and I had to pick up all their hours, so I've had almost no time to write. Finally, though, I got it done, and here is part 2 of the Journey to Arnwick. Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.
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Thunder rumbled overhead, and the winds were picking up. Hazel soon understood why Alma always tied her hair back into a bun, as her own hair was turned into a series of little blonde whips against her face. Before long, she grew too annoyed by this, and pulled her hair back to tie it into a ponytail. She glanced upwards as she fixed her hair, into the dark and ominous sky. When the storm finally hit, it would hit hard.
The carriage could withstand storms just fine, but she’d heard lots of tales that monsters grow stronger and deadlier in the dark, and she wondered if storms might affect them, as well. Nervously, she clutched at her red dress tightly, bunching it up in her hands.
“Hmmm,” Alma intoned. Hazel looked over to see the hunter was looking into the stormy sky, albeit with a much more grim look on her face. Reaching down to her belt, she fiddled with one of her knives until it came loose from her belt. She handed the weapon, sheathe and all, to Hazel, “Hold on to this for a while,” she said casually.
Hazel pulled the blade from its leather housing, and was not at all shocked to see that it was silver. She looked over to her friend and asked “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing yet,” Alma didn’t appear to have any intention of expanding on the answer.
Hazel would’ve been upset by this, but she honestly doubted she wanted to know what Alma might be worried about. However, if they were going to be running from or fighting monsters in the near future, she needed urinate again; and she had no intention of doing so in her clothes a second time. “Alma...” She began, blushing lightly.
“Yes?”
“I, er, need to,” she coughed nervously, “relieve myself,” her blush deepened.
Alma seemed to consider this for a moment, thinking to herself. She glanced around the surrounding forest before answering, “Alright, I’ll bring us to a stop just up ahead and you can find a tree,”.
“Thank you,” Hazel replied quickly, grateful at their businesslike approach to the topic.
A moment later, the carriage came to a stop, and the two climbed out. They didn’t go far from the road at all, settling on a spot a mere few feet from the carriage. Still wary after her last expedition into the woods, Hazel clutched the knife tightly, half expecting some monster to jump from behind any one of the trees. “Go ahead, I’ll keep watch,” Alma said reassuringly. Hazel turned about to see the hunter leaning against a tree, crossbow in hand.
“W-well, don’t… don’t look!” Hazel was already mortified enough.
“I’ll look away, Hazy, just go,” the hunter made a show of turning her head and using her hand to block her vision.
Still red in the face, Hazel began to hike up her dress and squat. She quickly yanked her panties down, wishing for the ordeal to be over as soon as possible. The cold air shocked her as her privates were exposed. She glanced back over to her friend, to see Alma keeping her word, and looking at basically anything but her. Still, she had to force her urine out. It seemed as though all sound in the world had purposely gone mute just to make the sound of her peeing all the louder. Her cheeks glowed bright red as a loud psssssssssshhhhhhhhh filled the silence.
When she was done, she realized she would have nothing to wipe with. She felt sure that Alma was growing impatient, and she didn’t want to be away from the cart any longer than necessary, so she just pulled her underwear back up and lowered her dress. She grimaced as she felt a final few drops of urine soak into her panties.
“Done?” Alma asked, casually.
“Y-yeah, done...” Hazel replied, still blushing. She fidgeted slightly in her damp panties.
“Good, hold this,” Alma said, thrusting the crossbow towards Hazel.
“Wha- why?” Hazel inquired as she took the heavy crossbow into her arms.
“I have to piss, too,” Alma had already begun to drop her pants midway through the sentence. Hazel squealed in shock as she turned around to give her friend privacy. Like her own release, it seemed the world had gone quiet just so she could her the pitter-patter of Alma’s urine hitting the ground.
“Done?” Hazel asked, not yet turning back around.
“Done,” Alma answered, as she refastened her pants.
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A few hours had passed. The sky had grown dark and the thunder was loud and frequent. Mercifully, the rain had not begun to fall in earnest, yet. The occasional ambassador of the coming torrent would fall from the sky here or there, but the two were still dry. A small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless.
Alma shifted suddenly, drawing Hazel’s attention. Hazel looked over to see Alma’s eyes flitting about the surrounding woods with no small amount of worry. Hazel felt that she should be afraid; anything that could put Alma on edge was surely more than a match for her. Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t know what Alma was so concerned about; perhaps it was the presence of a talented monster hunter that kept her calm.
Either way, Hazel decided it was time she knew what the problem was, “Alma, what are you so worried about?”
Alma’s eyes widened when Hazel spoke, as if she had forgotten that she wasn’t alone, “Huh?! Oh, it’s nothing,” she gave a quick smile to Hazel, but she could tell it was not genuine.
“I know something’s wrong, this is the most nervous you’ve been this entire trip,” Hazel wasn’t an expert at sounding stern, but she did her best.
The hunter sighed, then seemed to contemplate. “Fine,” she said, as she resumed her watch over their surroundings, “An oranzelg might be close by”.
“A… A what?”
“It’s a bit like a werewolf,” Alma turned and looked Hazel in the eyes; her face was stone cold, her tone was serious, “But it has a more insect-like face, and a large tail tipped with a stinger. They sleep a lot, but rain has been known to agitate them awake. They’re extremely deadly, and there’s several of them around these parts,”
Hazel suddenly decided that she might help keep watch. She turned her head to do so, but Alma continued with the explanation, “Though they have a similar frame to werewolves, they are different creatures. Oranzelgs prefer to use their stinger to envenom prey, then drag them off so they can eat them in the comfort of their lairs-”
“Enough!” Hazel said, finding her stern voice, “I don’t need to know any more,”
Alma looked into Hazel’s eyes again, and must have deduced that her explanation was frightening her, “Sorry, Hazy,” After a moment of tense silence, she added “Just… just be careful, ok?” There was genuine concern in Alma’s voice.
“Don’t worry, I will be,”
Mere moments after their conversation had ended, the two both felt numerous raindrops begin to pelt their bodies. Remembering what Alma had said about the rain angering the creatures, Hazel looked fearfully into the sky, wishing she could just will the storm away. Despite her hopes, the rain began to fall.
And fall.
And fall.
And fall.
Hazel yelped in pain as the droplets of rain slammed into her like rocks. The rain was so fierce that she worried that it may tear her carriage to shreds. She refused to look up for fear that she might drown in the deluge. Raising her arms to cover her face, she turned to Alma, but her vision was swiftly covered by Alma’s long coat, as it was thrown over her.
“Put it on!!” She heard her friend scream through the cacophony of sounds the rain had brought with it. Though she was loathe to take away Alma’s protection from the pelting rain, she felt beaten and bruised all over, and she wasn’t going to pass up the extra layer of protection.
She wriggled her arms into the coat which was many sizes too large for her, then pulled the back of it up, over her head, like a hood. Much of her body was still exposed, or only lightly covered, unshielded from the hostile storm. “What’s happening?!” Hazel yelled, her voice shaky with panic.
The horse pulling the carriage reared up, fiercely whinnying it’s complaints about the current situation. Alma began tugging and yanking on the reins, attempting to bring the animal back under control. It was no use. The horse began struggling violently against its restraints. Something, not just the rain, seemed to have frightened it. With no hesitation, it veered from the path, sprinting as fast as it could into the woods. The carriage rattled and shook, creaking as though it were going to split apart at any second. The horse dodged and weaved between the trees, slamming the carriage into them as it passed. The sounds of splintering wood and the impacts of fallen supplies were unmistakeable.
Finally, the pieces of the vehicle that held the animal to it were snapped apart, the reins discarded, and the horse sprinted off into the mist that had gathered. The carriage’s momentum slid it forward, until it collided with a tree, then tipped over.
Hazel screamed as she fell from the carriage. She felt arms wrap around her, and hold her tightly. Her fall was broken as Alma shielded her as best as she could. She spun around to behold the hunter lying on the ground, still holding onto Hazel. Hazel stood, and, using both of her hands and most of her strength, pulled Alma up to her feet.
Cold fear surged once more through Hazel as she noticed the eerie, blue-green lights shining in the mists, their progenitors fully obscured. Hazel counted no fewer than four of the spirits. Even through the deafening rain, the dreadful wail of each of them formed into an unholy chorus. Flashbacks of her first encounter with a ghost sped through her mind, and before she was even aware of it, she sent a long jet of urine through her panties. Her crotch warmed suddenly, and the short stream of piss fell between her thighs before it impacted the ground, splattering onto her legs. Following her gaze, Alma turned around to see the spirits, too.
Alma looked around in panic. Her eyes were wide, and they darted around frantically. Her hair that had once been tied in a bun now hung loose, billowing about in the wind. She looked disheveled, she looked worried, she looked… scared.
Before long, Alma’s eyes landed on her target: her crossbow. She moved to grab it, but was swiftly stopped as Hazel hugged her, shaking and sobbing into her chest. Hazel had sworn that she would heed Alma’s encouragement, that she would do better, be braver. But now, faced with all this, she just wanted to curl up and cry. After the two held each other for a moment, Alma broke off from the embrace. She bent over, and retrieved the silver dagger from the dirt. She grabbed Hazel’s hand and forced the weapon’s handle into her palm. She then picked up her crossbow and its quiver.
“Stay here,” Alma said forcefully. Hazel looked into her eyes again, and she could swear that she saw that same desire to curl up and cry in the hunter’s eyes. She wondered if Alma had pissed herself, as well, but they were both soaked from the rain- it was impossible to tell.
Alma ran off, into the mists. Within only seconds, the ghostly wailing had turned into a series of piercing screeches. Lights flared and flashed about, signifying that combat had begun. Hazel curled up against the wreckage of her carriage, the canopy of trees overhead shielding her from much of the rain. She clutched the dagger tightly, closed her eyes tightly, and prayed for Alma’s safety.
She had been pleading with God for at least several minutes when she heard the first footfall. A loud thunk, thunk, thunk indicated the presence of something big. Something approaching the ruined carriage. More footsteps, each louder and louder. A slow, rumbling growl nearly stopped Hazel’s heart. Her groin grew warm once more, and she buried her hand in her crotch. She was terrified beyond belief, but she was determined not to wet herself again. Even so, with each footstep, she felt a little more liquid wet her underwear.
The carriage she leaned upon shook suddenly, as though something were climbing atop it. The creature was certain to see her in only a few precious seconds. Steeling herself, she shot forward, stumbling heavily over some roots, but she regained her footing, and sprinted into the mist as fast as her legs would carry her. No sooner had she taken off than she heard a furious snarl from the creature. Following the snarl, she heard rapid, heavy footfalls chasing after her.
The monster was gaining on her, there was no doubt. It would catch her, if she didn’t do something, anything. Closing her eyes, she whirled around, and lashed out with her dagger. The blade met with heavy resistance, and she felt something warm and wet spray onto her hand. Opening her eyes, she saw that she had plunged the dagger into the right eye of a large monster.
It was a hulking creature, the size of two men. It had an almost humanoid body, with two arms, and two legs. Brown and black fur covered it completely. As humanoid as its body may have been, its face was anything but. Emotionless, black eyes stared at Hazel, and two large, fang-like protrusions, similar to a spider’s, hung from its face. A thick tail that terminated in a dripping stinger waved about behind it.
It threw its head back, knife still embedded, howling in pain, thrashing about as the silver did its work. Hazel wanted to run, or to continue attacking with the knife, but she was petrified. Her knees started to knock together, and she had completely forgotten about her bodily functions. Steam rose from her womanhood and legs as her white panties were flooded with piss. Her posture had placed her dress in the way of the torrent, and the stain developed rapidly between her legs, running down in rivulets. Perhaps the adrenaline had aided her sense of awareness, because Hazel was acutely aware of every little drop of urine sliding down her legs.
Clawing at the dagger, the monster finally ripped it out, roaring in agony. It returned its attention to Hazel, who could still feel her courage draining into her panties. It began a slow trot towards her, now wary. But it had nothing to fear; Hazel had lost her first and last line of defense. She fell to the ground, sitting on her knees. Piss was still dribbling out of her, but her body had found something else to evacuate. A firm log of shit slipped into her panties, followed by a mound of softer mess. They tented and bulged quickly. Her adrenaline had cursed her to smell, feel, and hear every part of her accident. The warm, soft mess pressed against her ass, smoothing out and spreading. The smell drifted up to her nose. And the sound. A wet squelching filled her ears, and continued as her body pushed all its contents out into her waiting underwear.
As embarassed as she would have been about having wet and soiled herself, the threat of imminent death was a much bigger concern for her right now. The monster raised its claw, preparing to strike. A mere instant before it could strike, a crossbow bolt soared through the air, and buried itself in the beast’s neck. Like with the dagger, it screamed, and reared back.
Hazel dared to look at where the bolt had come from, and smiled wider and harder than ever in her life when she saw a battered- but alive- Alma coming to her rescue. Before the beast could remove the silver from its body, Alma launched another bolt into its chest, then another into its belly. Perhaps the monster realized it was losing. Perhaps it realized it was doomed, for it broke into a suicidal charge towards Alma.
Hazel cried out in grief when she saw the beast’s stinger slice through the air, and embed itself in Alma’s left shoulder. The hunter screamed in pain, but brought her crossbow to bear, and fired one last bolt into the monster’s face. It roared a slow roar, gradually weakening and quieting, until the beast collapsed, dead.
Alma, clutched at her wound, but seemed to completely forget about it when she noticed Hazel. She ran over, and scooped up the young merchant into a tight embrace. Either not knowing or not caring about Hazel’s less-than-clean state.
“Hazy...” Alma muttered, her voice hoarse and exhausted, “Hazy, thank God you’re alive,”
“Thank you, Alma!” Hazel sobbed, “Thank you so much!”
Their hug was ended when Alma yelped in pain and backed off to clutch at the wound on her shoulder. Hazel realized the implications, and her relief swiftly vanished, “Alma...” she struggled to use her voice, it was so shaky, “A-are you...”
“I’ll...” Alma looked into Hazel’s eyes, but she looked just as worried, “I’ll be fine. Remember how I said they like to envenom, then eat their prey? It’s just paralysis, I’ll be unconscious, but fine,” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself just as much as Hazel.
The two began their trek back to their destroyed carriage. They knew the vehicle’s traveling days were done, but perhaps there were supplies to be salvaged. Halfway through the walk back, Alma had grown woozy, and needed Hazel’s support to walk. When they reached the carriage, Alma simply slumped against a tree. Hazel began rummaging through the bags and boxes that had been strewn about.
“Hazy...” Alma’s voice was still rough, and now she sounded half-asleep.
“Yes?” Hazel turned to her friend without delay.
“Fish me out some underwear, please,”
“Er, why?”
In her usual deadpan voice, Alma answered, “I shit myself when I saw the oranzelg,”. At least I’m not alone… Hazel thought to herself. She retrieved a red pair of panties, and walked towards Alma. The hunter stood up, facing away from Hazel. She could indeed see a bulge in the seat of Alma’s pants. She hadn’t defecated in her clothes quite as much as Hazel had, but she still had definitely ruined her underwear. Shamelessly, Alma dropped her pants, and wriggled her feet out of them, causing Hazel to blush furiously. Seeing her now exposed panties, more than a few logs were plainly visible, creating an uneven lump right between her cheeks. Discarding her full panties, Alma used some leaves to wipe herself as much as possible, then slid the new red panties up, then her- likely smelly- pants were slid back up.
Alma sat back down under the tree, her head lolled for a brief second before she seemed to fight back to consciousness, “Hazy...” it sounded as though it hurt her to speak, “I’m going to… be unconscious for… maybe a day... ” ragged gasps for breath interrupted her words, “In the pocket of the coat I gave you… my notebook… read it...” her message given, she slumped over, completely fainted.
Hazel was grief stricken to see her friend like this, but she needed to heed her instructions. She felt around the coat that she still wore, until she discovered a small notebook in one of the inside pockets. Opening it, Hazel saw that it was more-or-less a survival guide, a massive compilation of notes on what’s safe to eat or drink, what creatures abound and where, how to ward them away, the kind of experience that comes from a lifetime of doing this sort of thing, condensed into a small book. Hazel felt overwhelmed.
She opened to the first page and began reading. For a little comfort, she sat down on the ground. She winced in surprise and discomfort as she felt the squishing sensation below her bottom. Oh right, She thought, I soiled myself. She closed the notebook and placed it back in her pocket. Following after Alma’s example, she began searching for a change of clothes, the disgusting mess now pressing up against her backside uncomfortably. As she searched, a beam of light crossed her face. Hazel looked up, and smiled ever so slightly to see that the rain had stopped.
A small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless. |
And, almost exactly one month later, here's the next part!
Also, just as a teaser, the next chapter will be from Alma's perspective.
Anyway, sorry about the wait, but I hope you guys enjoy.
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Morning had come, and the early sunlight danced on all of the wet leaves and grass. Hazel had changed into a gray, long-sleeved shirt and dark brown pants. She still wore Alma’s long coat. Following Alma’s example, she had traded her dress for something a bit more practical. In her own defence, though, she hadn’t expected that she would need to survive in the wilderness- this was supposed to be a quick, couple-day trip! She didn’t think she would need to flee from ferocious monsters. She most certainly hadn’t expected that she would have to protect Alma while she was unconscious.
She crouched near her friend and inspected her. Alma had gone pale, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Pressing her hand against her face, Hazel confirmed that Alma had a fairly severe fever. She was breathing in ragged little gasps. Alma had assured her that she would be fine, just unconscious, but she looked anything but “fine”. Hazel prayed she was right.
She set about gathering their scattered supplies and stockpiling them in the shelter of the ruined carriage. Much of it was completely lost in the chaos, but she was at least able to gather a lot of their food, water, and clothes. She couldn’t help but to weep softly as she collected it all. She had sold everything, left behind everything for this. And now half of all that she had left to her name was lost; strewn about a deadly forest.
A smile shone from her face as she came upon one of their sleeping bags. It faded somewhat as she lifted it up, and discovered it was only the tattered remnants of a sleeping bag. It must have been shredded at some point when the carriage veered into the woods. But there was just enough of it left that perhaps it could still be used as a mattress. Making her way back to Alma, she laid out the torn sleeping bag on the ground. Putting one arm under Alma’s back and the other under her legs, Hazel tried to lift the hunter. Grunting and groaning, she heaved as hard as she could, but only managed to elevate her friend about a foot off of the ground before collapsing. Alma groaned in pain at the fall.
“Oh God, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Hazel put one hand over her mouth. Slowly and carefully, she grabbed Alma under the arms, being careful not to put pressure on her injured arm, and dragged her onto the sleeping bag. Lifting her feet, she pulled them onto it, as well. It wasn’t much, but it had to be better than slumping over onto a bunch of wet roots. Alma seemed to shiver slightly, and Hazel quickly took off the hunter’s coat, and laid it over her chest, like a blanket. Hazel was happy she could at least give her friend this much.
Once their little “camp”, if it could be called such, was done, Hazel sat down with her back against the carriage. She picked up the book and studied its cover for a moment. She was hesitant to begin reading from it; worried that a monster of some sort could attack while she was distracted. She had loaded Alma’s crossbow (quite strenuously) and taken one of her silver daggers- both now rested on either side of the merchant. Still, she was nervous. She mentally slapped herself, remembering that Alma had instructed her to read through the book. She flipped the book open to the first page, and began reading with determination.
DO EAT:
Small green raspberry-things are a-ok. Taste like ass, but they’ll keep you going.
Direwolf meat. Tough as nails, but whatever’s in it will build muscle like nothing else.
DO NOT EAT:
Small purple berries with dark purple splotches. They taste pretty good, but you’ll shit yourself silly.
Oranzelg meat. Tough like steak, and good like it, too. Only problem is that whatever they use in their venom must be in their meat, too, since eating just a little bit will make you go all numb and lethargic.
Definitely do not eat both as part of one meal. That is the end of that pair of pants.
It sounded like Alma had an eventful day when she made that notation. Hazel figured her friend was telling the truth about how many times she’s soiled herself in this line of work. Looking at the next page, Alma had detailed various kinds of traps that are good for catching prey. The next described weather conditions and their effects on the wildlife.
The page on weather caught Hazel’s attention.
Oranzelgs are pretty sedentary creatures, but for whatever reason, rain agitates them, and sends them into vicious rampages. I can still see Donny running towards me, with one chasing after him. Still see it pouncing on him. If it’s raining, avoid all travel if possible.
Hazel remembered Donny. He was a young man who had become Alma’s apprentice. Hazel had only met him a few times, but he seemed pretty nice. She was always a little jealous of the fact that he was a year younger than she was, yet was twice as brave as she was. She’d heard that his career as a hunter came to an abrupt end when an oranzelg shredded his leg. She’d always figured that he must have been alone when it happened, but it seems that Alma was present for the incident. She lowered the book, and looked with sympathy towards her friend. Poor thing, she thought, She had to watch her student get maimed in front of her. After a moment of reflection, she recalled Alma’s concern for her safety, how much she seemed to dread one of the creatures appearing. Hell, the fact that Alma, of all people, lost control of her bowels and filled her pants in fear. It seemed to make sense, suddenly. She must see a bit of Donny in me. She thought she was going to lose another student. Another friend.
She continued flipping through the book. She was determined more than ever to keep Alma safe, and to not put her through the loss of someone else. More pages on what to eat and what to avoid. A few on different monsters and what draws them out. Hazel leaned in excitedly when she found a page of potion recipes and natural remedies. A few different types of antivenom caused her some confusion, as she wondered which one to try and make. She supposed she’d never really thought about the fact that not all animals use the same kind of venom. Her heart sank when she noticed the little footnotes that indicated these would only work for very specific maladies. As she turned the page, however, she did find a recipe to make an all-purpose painkiller. Looking at her friend’s ragged, shallow breaths and pale exterior, Hazel figured it would help, if nothing else.
The ingredients looked to be fairly simple, too. Just some basic herbs mashed up and mixed with water. I can do that! She thought proudly. She stood, and took one step away from their makeshift camp before she realized she was about to leave her friend completely alone. It also occurred to her that if she was attacked, she’d only have one shot with the crossbow- there was no way she’d be able to reload it during combat. It took all of her strength to pull the string back.
“Nnnnnnnnn...” She heard Alma groan, and rushed to her side. She was writhing in pain, twisting her body in unsettling ways. She was in agony, Hazel realized. She felt tears forming in her eyes as she looked at her friend’s suffering. She had decided, now. She needed to make Alma that medicine. As she worried about her friend’s safety, she recalled what had protected her on her first night in the forest. She retrieved the container of salt from the ruins of her carriage, and formed a circle of it around the unconscious hunter. Hazel had no idea how effective it would be against some of the fiercer monsters, but it would certainly stop the smaller ones. If nothing else, it was peace of mind enough to set off for the ingredients.
Scanning the area to ensure that no creatures were already approaching, Hazel clutched the crossbow, and set off to find the required herbs.
Meanwhile, Alma continued to stir.
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Hazel was filled with relief when she plucked the last ingredient for the potion. It was a small mushroom, which she turned over and over in her palm, silently thanking it for its sacrifice. She dropped it into the pouch that contained the rest of the ingredients. Double-checking Alma’s notebook to ensure she had acquired all the necessary reagents, she hoisted up the crossbow, slung the pouch over her shoulder, and practically skipped back to camp.
A nagging concern migrated from the back of her mind to the forefront, and she wondered if Alma was okay, since she had been left all alone. The salt was effect enough at keeping some creatures away, but the oranzelg sure didn’t mind how close it had come to their stash. Her exuberant skipping evolved into a hurried jog as worry tugged at her heart.
She came upon the camp, and was relieved to find Alma still in one piece. One passed-out, heavily envenomed piece. She knelt down next to her, and placed her hand on the hunter’s forehead. She was burning with fever. Her face was still pale, and she was drenched in sweat. Her breathing was faint, but it was there.
There’s no time to lose, she thought as she retrieved her satchel. She would need to crush the herbs, then mix them with water to complete the process. Rummaging through the wreckage of her carriage, she at last stumbled upon an undamaged bowl, then settled on a relatively round rock to serve as an impromptu mortar and pestle. As she prepared to dump the herbs into the bowl, she heard Alma moan suddenly,
“Haaaaazyyyyy...” Came Alma’s raspy, choked voice.
Without a second thought, she rushed to Alma’s side, crouching down beside her. “What? What do you need?” She asked quickly and dutifully.
“Hazy… Need… I need...” Hazel’s hopes of her friend returning to the waking world when dashed when she realized the hunter was basically just sleep-talking. Alma’s head lolled over to the other side, mouth open as if she were snoring. Hazel prepared to return to her potion-making, when Alma quietly whispered, “Need… Aaaahhh...”.
A look of total bliss came over Alma’s face, which confused Hazel. She placed her hand on her forehead again to see if the temperature had changed, when the quiet sounds of running water caught her attention. Don’t tell me, She thought as her eyes slowly lowered to look at the crotch of Alma’s tight, black pants. Indeed, they were wet, and growing more so. A circle of wetness spread between her thighs. Alma’s stream grew much stronger- and louder- suddenly, and the circle of wetness grew extremely quickly. Glistening crescents formed on her inner thighs, and a yellow stain spread on the sleeping bag below her, creating an uneven, discolored patch. After what must have been a minute and a half, Alma's stream at last began to die down. A few more seconds, and she had completely finished wetting her pants. Hot steam billowed into the air from the hunter’s groin.
Hazel’s face burned red with embarrassment for her friend- and for herself for having so closely observed it. She tried to convince herself that it was good that at least it wasn’t She who had wet themselves; yet she couldn’t find a way to be happy about it. Her heart grieved for Alma’s plight, and she’d give anything to trade places with her.
“Oh, Alma...” She whispered with genuine sympathy. She sighed, and mentally braced herself, “Okay. Let’s get you… cleaned up,”. Her face red as a hot iron, Hazel shakily placed her hands onto the fastenings of Alma’s pants. Once they were undone, she began to slide them down. Very quickly, the red fabric of Alma’s panties became visible, and Hazel stopped in her tracks. This felt like such a violation of Alma’s body. Closing her eyes, she gave a sharp tug, yanking the trousers away from Alma’s rear. As Hazel struggled to get the pants past Alma’s knees, she decided she was being immature, and forced one eye open.
In less than a second, her eye fell upon Alma’s most private space. Her panties, once a vibrant red, were now darkened from the crotch to her backside. Opening her other eye, Hazel managed to slide Alma’s cooling-yet-still-warm-with-urine trousers past her knees, then completely off of her person. She couldn’t help but look with admiration at the monster hunter’s well-muscled legs. Her thighs alone, wet and dripping as they were, looked like they packed enough of a punch to kill a man.
Her reverie was ended when her eyes reached Alma’s soaked underwear, and she remembered that she was about to see much more of her friend’s body than either of them were comfortable with. Grimacing with shame, she slid her fingers into the waistband on Alma’s red panties, and gingerly began to lower them. Taking care not to stare at her friend’s privates, she quickened her pace, and swiftly removed her underwear.
Taking a moment to compose herself, she retrieved a pair of white panties, and dressed her friend in them as quickly as she could. She panicked a bit when she remembered that Alma was still lying in a puddle, and the new panties would get wet. Using all of her comparatively meager muscles, she heaved her friend up, and slid her off the cot. The grass wouldn’t be half as comfortable, but it would be much dryer. That done, she looked around, dismayed at the fact that any pants or skirts she could have covered up Alma with had been scattered in the storm, or ruined by… Other substances. Sighing with sorrow for her friend’s obliterated dignity, Hazel lifted the jacket she had placed on top of her as a blanket, and repositioned it to cover her lower body. She then laid out Alma’s pants on a rock that was sitting in the sunlight. They wouldn’t smell amazing, but at least they’d be dry.
Alma’s unnatural sleep had seemingly deepened to a frightening degree, as she barely stirred at all through the whole changing. She needed to make that potion for her, soon. She had to do something.
With great urgency, she crushed ingredient after ingredient into a fine paste, then mixed it with water. The end result was a foamy, pale-green liquid that was much to thick to really be called a liquid. Hazel lifted the bowl up, and sniffed the mixture, gagging slightly. She didn’t even want to think about how it might taste.
Carrying the bowl as carefully as though it were an infant child, Hazel walked over to her sleeping friend. Slowly, gently, she lowered herself, and moved to bowl to Alma’s lips.
“You’re going to kill her, you know,” Came an unknown voice from behind her.
Hazel shouted in surprise and jumped. Some medicine splashed out of the bowl, landing on Alma’s cheek and sliding down. As cautiously as her panic would allow, Hazel set down the bowl, and lifted up the crossbow. She spun around, and leveled it the intruder. The rattling of the crossbow gave away how much Hazel was shaking.
Yet, the person before her was not the bandit or witch she was anticipating. A young woman, maybe twenty or so. She wore an old, dark orange dress; its hem only reaching down to her knees. A long, dark crimson jacket hung far past the end of her dress, nearly down to her ankles. Old leather boots covered her slender legs. In her right hand she clutched a wooden staff that stood perfectly straight, until it curved into the shape of a crescent moon at its top. Numerous ornaments and trinkets adorned her staff. Atop her head sat a black, wide-brimmed hat. Below it rested the tired, sunken eyes and curly black hair of a strange woman.
“W-who are you?!” Hazel demanded, lifting the crossbow a little, the clik-clak noise it made a reminder of its presence.
Her tired eyes slowly drifted down to look at the crossbow, then back up to its wielder, “I’m much less dangerous to either of you than you are to her,” She said in a condescending voice.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that that potion would have turned your friend’s short nap into a permanent one,” The young woman intoned in a deadpan that almost sounded like Alma’s own way of speaking. On seeing Hazel’s confusion, the stranger sighed, “That potion doesn’t just numb pain. It numbs everything, and often makes people sleep for long hours. Couple that with oranzelg venom, and you have a formula for the longest sleep you’ll ever take,”.
Hazel eye’s widened, and she lowered the crossbow a bit. Did I really… Almost kill Alma…? She thought to herself in horror. Another, almost equally terrifying thought creeped into her head, “Wait, how did you even know what potion it was?”.
“I’ve been watching you for quite some time,”
“W-why?! For how long?!” Hazel was growing indignant.
“Long enough to see the both of you void your bowels in your clothes during the fight last night,” Shame rose up in Hazel, but she crushed it down with anger and confusion, “As for why...” She looked up, and seemed to think of a response for a second, “Well, wouldn’t you want to keep an eye on an intruder in your home?”.
“What do you mean ‘your home’?”
“These woods. They’re my home, in which you are rudely trespassing,” The woman's voice took on an annoyed tone.
“Well pardon us, but we didn’t exactly plan on visiting, you know!” The woman was getting on Hazel’s nerves, now. It showed in her voice.
“And I don’t plan on entertaining you for long,” The woman's sunken eyes shifted ever-so-slightly to express anger, then returned to their normal, dreary state, “Let me heal your friend so you can leave. You’re upsetting the spirits here,”.
Yeah well, they upset me pretty badly, too…
Hazel inspected the stranger for a moment. Numerous potion bottles and satchels rested on her waist, giving the impression of someone skilled in alchemy. “Fine,” She relented, lowering the crossbow, “Just please, help her. We’ll leave just as soon as she can move,”.
The woman replied with a curt nod, then walked towards the sleeping hunter. With the deftness of a trained expert, she produced reagent after reagent, working some into Alma’s mouth, and some onto her wound. Hazel could only watch in amazement. After only a few minutes, it was over, and the mysterious woman stood.
“She’ll wake up in just a few hours, with no traces of the venom left. It'll be as if she was never attacked,” Hazel wanted to hug the stranger.
As if sensing Hazel’s growing fondness of her, the woman quickly collected her belongings and walked past her, “Just make sure you’ve left as soon as you can,” she advised, “The entities here do not care for you, and they will make as much clear,”.
“Thank you,” Hazel said, and she meant it.
“Mm-hm”
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The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace. Hazel sat near her friend, crossbow at the ready. She wasn’t completely sure that she trusted this stranger, but if she had wanted to kill them, she had missed some very good opportunities. Enough that Hazel figured she was telling the truth about her cure working within the hour.
The sun was setting. Hazel became aware of her every breath. She could feel sweat forming on her forehead, and a pit in her stomach. If Alma didn’t wake up now, then she’d be facing the monsters here alone. The thought brought an uncomfortable sensation to light: she had to piss. She’d been so busy taking care of Alma, she hadn’t been able to relieve herself even once all day.
Twice on this journey she’d wet herself, and once she’d soiled herself. She was not eager to repeat either incident, but she refused to leave Alma’s side. She was the only thing keeping Alma alive, and she was determined not to get caught with her pants literally down. She’d happily piss and shit her pants then and there if it meant she wouldn’t be distracted.
Of course, she still hoped her desperation didn’t reach that point. At least her bowels were still largely empty. If she had to find a bright side to having crapped her panties, it would be that it meant she wouldn’t have the “resources” to do it again later.
A sudden, loud rustling caught her attention, prompting her to jump to her feet. Something moved in the distance, and it moved hard enough to be heard. Once again hearing the rattling of the crossbow, she tried to calm herself by thinking that it was just the stranger, continuing to watch them. Perhaps she had tripped and fallen, and that was all?
A loud, fearsome growl put an end that that theory. Something was here. Something not nice. Hazel’s legs began to quiver, and she looked down at Alma with pleading eyes; Please wake up please wake up please wake up, was all she could think. Another sound, much less anticipated, echoed through the woods a short moment later. A panicked scream, definitely from a woman.
In that moment, time seemed to slow down. She remembered everything she’d said about being braver, but, at the same time, a little voice in her head tried to convince her not to go out, because it was likely already too late. As her mind raced and her body shook, she gathered her will, and slapped herself across her right cheek. She could never live with herself if she repaid the woman who saved Alma by letting her die. Steeling herself, she readied the crossbow, made sure she had one the silver knives, and moved towards the source of the screaming.
She hated to leave Alma behind again, but it wouldn’t be for long. Moving between tall trees and through thick bushes, Hazel followed after the sounds of growling and whimpering.
After only a minute or two of running, she found the source of both. Indeed, the screaming was from the woman. Her eyes, still baggy and tired, had finally come alive, but they were filled with fear. The source of the growling drew much more of her attention, however. At first, she thought it was only a wolf. A large wolf, but still just a wolf. As she looked at, though, it became abundantly clear that it was a creature of unholy origin.
It had the posture and general body shape of a very large wolf, but its bone structure was much more sharp and pointed, giving the creature an almost jagged appearance. Speaking of sharp and pointy, numerous spines jutted from its back, rising several inches into the air. Its fangs and claws were substantially longer than any wolf’s should be. Its gray fur was rough and patchy.
It seemed neither the beast nor the woman had seen Hazel, yet. The wolf demon slowly walked towards the strange woman, whose normally still body shook heavily. She backed up until her back hit against a tree. Realizing there was nowhere to go, the woman stared at the wolf in utter terror. Tears ran down her cheeks.
That wasn’t all, Hazel realized, as she saw a dark circle appear on the front of the woman's orange skirt. It spread out several inches, and only a second later, Hazel saw the stream of piss fall between her legs. It splattered loudly on the ground, and little droplets of urine splashed onto the her legs. A few little streams ran down her thighs.
I’m so scared… Hazel thought, But I have to help her!
The wolf hadn’t seen her, yet. This would be her one chance to take a perfect shot. She shouldered the weapon, took aim, and fired. Splitting the air apart, the bolt sailed towards its mark, and buried itself firmly in the side of the wolf’s chest. It howled in agony. Both the demon and the stranger turned now to notice Hazel. The woman had a look of disbelief in her eyes.
She could see steam rising from the wound she’d inflicted on the beast, meaning the silver was taking effect, but the wolf didn’t die. It was clearly in pain, but it was not dying. And now it was looking at her. As Hazel took a step back, she felt her thighs rub together, and noted with some satisfaction that they were dry. She at least hadn’t pissed herself yet. She thought this must be how Alma felt during the fight the oranzelg- completely, utterly terrified, but knowing you have to do something.
The wolf sprinted at her, and Hazel’s eyes went wide. Trusting her instincts, she slammed the crossbow into the wolf’s maw as it leapt for her. While the wolf clawed and chewed on the weapon in confusion, Hazel ran over to the woman, who still had little droplets of pee falling between her legs.
“Are you okay?” Hazel breathlessly asked, amazed she could still form words.
It would appear that the same could not be said for the woman, who only whimpered. She seemed unharmed, just… wet. Her eyes were still sunken and tired, but behind them, Hazel could see true and honest gratitude. She felt a sense of pride well up inside of her, a kind she hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever. It was accompanied by a surge of confidence, I will get her out of here, and I will keep Alma safe, she swore to herself.
A loud roar from behind her reminded Hazel that she hadn’t really saved anybody yet. It also reminded her of her rather pressing need to urinate, as she released a short stream of piss into her pants. A wet streak formed on her crotch before travelling down her right thigh about two inches. While that was all that showed on her pants, she could feel a few droplets racing all the way down her legs.
She also remembered, now, that she had discarded the crossbow to temporarily stun the wolf. She turned about, and saw the wolf demon slowly approaching them. Unlike the cold, emotionless eyes of the oranzelg, this creature’s eyes were full of hate. It wasn’t just doing this to eat, it wanted to kill them. Hazel could feel her resolve- and bladder- weaken as she faced the creature. Shaking slightly, she drew her silver knife. It wasn’t much, but it was her last line of defense.
Psshh…
As it approached, Hazel felt herself lose another spurt of urine. The wet mark on her pants grew a couple of inches.
“I-I have s-something...” the woman quietly stated as she hid behind Hazel. Hazel fought the urge to turn and look at whatever she had, knowing the wolf would seize on that opportunity. “A-a flask that m-might kill it,” That caught Hazel’s attention.
“What do you need me to do?” She asked urgently.
“J-just hold it still, then r-run when I hit it with the flask,” It sounded as though the woman's courage was slowly returning.
But still, Just hold it still?! Hazel thought in disbelief. She was certain that she was going to completely piss her pants if the thing got any closer. Of course, Hazel knew she certainly couldn’t kill it alone, so whatever the woman had might be their only shot.
She took the deepest breath she could, and took one step forward.
Psshh…
Once again, the wetness between her legs grew as she re-warmed it with her urine. The darkened patch was now a few inches in diameter, and short, wet streaks had begun their journey down her legs.
Fighting the urges to vomit, pee her pants, run, or all three, Hazel sidestepped while continuing her slow advance towards the beast. It took its attention off of the stranger, and gave her a clean shot at throwing the flask.
Her heart beat so hard she thought it might erupt out of her chest. She was certain that if she’d had anything to eat today, it’d be sitting in her underwear right now. The wolf seemed to pick up on this. Perhaps it was finally noticing that she’d been slowly pissing herself, for it lunged towards her, its great and mighty fangs bared.
Time seemed to slow down as Hazel tried to take stock of everything that was happening. Closing one of her eyes in fear, she half-blindly swung the knife in front of her. The blade missed, and she felt the wolf’s horrible maw enclose on her arm. It bit down, hard. As this happened, the woman's flask was flung through the air, and crashed against the wolf’s side, shattering, and spilling its contents.
A viscous, purple liquid spewed across its side, making sizzling noises and generating plumes of steam. The wolf released Hazel, and howled in pain. It fell to the ground, thrashing in pain.
Now was Hazel’s chance. Her right arm was damaged from the wolf’s bite, and she could barely move her hand. She quickly took the knife into her non-wounded hand, fell to her knees, and plunged the silver blade into the wolf demon’s eye. It’s thrashing was finally silenced.
As Hazel panted, her whole body felt numb. Feeling slowly returned to her body, and, shamefully, the thing that made her realize this were the rivers of warm wetness pouring down her legs. Looking down at her groin, she did indeed bear witness to a rapidly expanding urine stain. She felt her warm liquids travelling down her legs, creating thick, dark stains down her thighs. Felt the heat lick her rear as the wetness caressed almost every inch of her lower body. Her body was still not completely under control, as fear, shock, and adrenaline rampaged through her system. She grimaced as she felt something slip out of her backside. She was soiling herself, with what very little was left in her body. It wasn’t much, just a small amount, not even enough for a bulge to appear. But still, she was quite privy to the fact that she had, once again, defecated on herself.
Her embarrassment was immediately forgotten as the numbness left her right arm, and she was reminded of the wound she had sustained. Utter agony surged through her, and she screamed. The mysterious woman rushed over to her. She was saying something, it seemed as though she was possibly trying to comfort Hazel, but the pain was too intense. Giving up on talking, the stranger retrieved one of the last of her potion flasks, and deftly removed its lid. Holding Hazel’s head with one hand, she poured the potion into the merchant’s mouth with the other. Hazel’s pained screaming slowly died away as she slipped into unconsciousness, the world around her filling with blackness, then falling away.
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Slowly, very slowly, Hazel’s eyes opened. She felt groggy, and utterly exhausted. She entertained the idea of asking for “just five more minutes,”. She rolled over a little, but shot upright as a spike of pain ran through her right arm. Gasping sharply, she looked down at her destroyed appendage.
She was confused when she saw clean, white bandaging adorning most of her forearm. Her wound hurt, pretty badly, but nearly as much as it did the last time she was awake. It occurred to her that she was inspecting the wound in the sunlight. It was morning, now.
Did she help me? Hazel wondered. She sat all the way up, and crossed her legs. Her ever-so-slightly damp legs. She glanced downwards and noticed that she was still wearing her peed-in pants. Wiggling her butt a little, she could even still feel the bit of mess left in her panties. “Uuugh...” She groaned.
“Sorry,” Came the mysterious woman's voice, catching Hazel off guard. She looked around until her eyes fell upon her, who was sitting near a campfire that had a pot of something good-smelling cooking over it. “I would have changed you, but well...” The woman's tired eyes looked away, and her pale cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment, “I didn’t know where your spare clothes were,” she said, making an excuse for herself.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hazel replied, her voice hoarse from her screaming. She remembered how she felt when changing Alma, and could hardly fault her for not wanting to do the same with a total stranger. Even if it meant she might have a rash now.
“I, er, tried to put you in the sunlight, at least. You know, to dry off,” Hazel noticed that woman looked even more tired than before. Has she been awake all night for us? She wondered. And speaking of drying off, Hazel looked to the woman's own clothes. Her orange dress had been dried and cleaned, leaving little trace of the fact it had been heavily urinated in.
“Wait, where’s Alma? Where’s my friend?” Hazel asked as more of her senses returned to her.
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” The stranger answered, “She was… much heavier than you are. I couldn’t move her, and I could barely move you, so I’ve been going back and forth to check on the both of you,”.
Hazel breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you… for the help last night,” The woman said, with probably as much gratitude as her voice would allow.
“After you helped my friend,” Hazel began, looking her new friend in the eyes, “It was the least I could do,”.
The woman smiled, “Still, you got hurt to save me, and I won’t forget that,” She walked over, and offered her hand to help pull Hazel to her feet. “M-my name’s Eliza...” She said as Hazel stood. She sounded fairly unaccustomed to saying it.
“Lovely to meet you, Eliza,” Hazel flashed Eliza a smile, “My name is Hazel, and my friend is Alma,”.
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With Hazel ambulatory once more, the two packed up Eliza’s miniature camp and returned to Alma. Hazel noted several little objects dangling from the branches and bushes surrounding the crash site of her carriage. They resembled windchimes and dreamcatchers.
“Those are charms. They keep monsters away,” Eliza explained when she noticed Hazel looking at them.
The two set down near Alma, who Eliza insisted should awaken at any second, and set about eating the stew that Eliza had prepared.
The two found little to chat about, but any conversation was soon ended when, at last, Alma began to wake up.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Aaaaaand here it is, finally. Real sorry for how slow I am about this. Like I warned in the last post, this is a long chapter, and a lot of it is exposition with not a huge amount of omo content. If you want to get to the good stuff right away, skip about halfway through.
On an entirely unrelated note, I've been considering making an interactive story in a sci-fi setting, and was wondering if anyone would be interested in seeing that. If you are, just leave a comment.
As always, feedback is appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.
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The mother of all headaches rampaged through Alma’s skull. Like a searing hot knife between the folds of her brain. She gritted her teeth and groaned in pain. Like a child waking up before classes, she wished more than anything that she could roll back over and go back to sleep, except…
Hazy!!
Her eyes opened wide, the assault of morning sunlight turning her headache into a banshee’s scream in her skull. As she sat upright, she felt herself wobble, and almost collapse onto her side. Woozy and migraine-stricken, Alma turned her head, looking for her friend.
“Alma!” Came a familiar voice. The relief in Hazel’s voice matched the relief Alma herself felt, knowing her friend was safe.
Still not completely awake, she turned towards the source of the voice, and was caught off-guard as Hazel practically tackled her, bringing both of them back down to the ground with a yelp of alarm. Hazel wrapped her arms tightly around her, and she returned the favor.
“How’d things go, Hazy?” Alma asked, her voice still weak.
“Alma...” Hazel sounded on the brink of tears, “I’m so happy you’re okay,”. Her tone made it sound like she’d never spoken truer words in her life.
The two finally ended their embrace, and exchanged joyous smiles, “I’m sure you took good care of me, Hazy,” She placed her hand on Hazel’s head as she said this.
Hazel sheepishly looked away, “Well, actually...”
“I helped,” Came a woman's calm, stoic voice. It was not one that Alma was familiar with.
Caught completely by surprise, Alma’s head swiveled towards the stranger. She looked with confusion at the short, tired-looking newcomer.
“O-oh, right!” Hazel stood and stepped between Alma and the witch, “Alma, this is Eliza. She, uh, helped us,”.
“I see,” Alma said, not really understanding, “Well, you have my thanks, Eliza,”.
“It’s unnecessary,” Eliza replied, “Not long after I helped you, Hazel here saved me from a wolf demon,”.
“A wolf demon?” Alma’s eyes looked Hazel up and down, and she finally noticed the dark patches running down Hazel’s legs, and the bandaging on her arm. “Hazel, are you okay?!” She asked.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Hazel answered, holding up her hands.
“The bite on her hand was bad, but it was the worst the wolf did to us,” Eliza began, “Shortly afterwards, I stunned the wolf and Hazel killed it,”.
“You killed it?” The edges of Alma’s mouth curled into a proud smile.
“Well, I couldn’t have, if Eliza hadn’t-”
“Hazy, I’m so proud of you!” Alma stood up, staggering like she was drunk, then clapped her hand on Hazel’s back. Hazel just blushed and fidgeted a little. Feeling a chill breeze blow between her legs, Alma finally realized she was standing in her underwear. Alma wasn’t half as shy about nudity as Hazel was, but she still preferred to have pants on when she was meeting new people.
Seeing Alma’s distressed realization, Hazel quickly stammered out an explanation, “O-oh, er, y-you uuuhhh...” she cleared her throat, nervously, “wet… while you were asleep. I didn’t want to just, eh, leave you like that, so I-I, um...”
“Hazy,” Alma interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” Hearing Alma’s appreciation, Hazel breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Alma knew that if she waited for Hazel to finish her explanation, they’d be there all day. And she was grateful; after everything, it would be annoying to wake up to a puddle and a rash. She really was in good hands.
“I left your pants out to dry, right over there,” Hazel stumbled over the word “dry”, as if still not daring to believe someone like Alma could piss their pants. Oh how wrong she was.
As the mirth of the moment faded away, the reality of their situation dawned on Alma, and she knew that they needed to get going. Ghosts, oranzelgs, and wolf-demons were already hunting them, and Alma didn’t want to know what else the forest had to throw at them. If they didn’t get to safety immediately, their luck was going to run out.
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A short while later, Alma had gotten dressed into her usual monster-slaying attire: her wide-brimmed black hat; a cross necklace; her crimson shirt; her tight, black trousers; and her brown boots. Hazel had offered Alma her coat back, but she had refused, and told Hazel she could keep it if she liked. The look on her face was one of childlike wonder when she heard Alma’s offer.
As they all labored to gather whatever supplies could be salvaged from the carriage wreck, Alma looked over at Hazel, and she couldn’t suppress a smile as she saw the young merchant wearing the oversized coat. She looked almost like a child who had thrown on her father’s jacket. The once professional and intimidating garment now looked downright, well, cute, on its new owner.
Once they’d gathered everything together, Alma looked grimly at the miserably small pile of supplies that sat before them. Hazel struggled to wear an optimistic smile, and Eliza maintained her tired, bored look. Hardly any food or water, only a couple crates of Hazel’s wares, and only one other set of clothes, which had yet to be washed after Hazel pissed in and soiled them. Even now, one glance at the pants Hazel was currently wearing was enough to know she’d had another accident.
“You two won’t make it very far,” Eliza said as she observed the pile.
“Sure we will! We’ll just have to… eat less than usual, and...” Hazel began, but drifted off as she came to accept their situation.
“Eliza’s right,” Alma admitted, crossing her arms over her chest, “We need food and water. If this were any other forest, I could just hunt something for us, but that’s not a very sound strategy here. The rest is more-or-less negligible,” Alma hated that Hazel might be condemned to wearing her wet trousers, but being wet and alive beat being dead any day.
“I have food,” Eliza suggested plainly, drawing surprised looks from the other two women.
“You do?!” Hazel asked, excitedly.
“I live here, of course I have food stashed away,”
Alma gave the witch a pleading look, “Eliza, I hate to ask any more of you, but-”
“Yes, you can have some,” Eliza answered, before the question could be asked. “I didn’t help you nearly as much as she helped me, so I am in your debt,”.
Alma had no idea how exactly Eliza had helped them, but she wasn’t about to question the young witch’s offer.
“Thank you, thank you, Eliza!” Hazel excitedly cheered. Alma gave a thankful smile.
Almost imperceptibly, Eliza seemed to smile, just a bit. She reached down, and picked up some of their supplies while Alma and Hazel carried the rest, “Come on, my home is this way,” she said, as she wandered into the woods.
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Eliza’s “house” was as pathetic as it was impressive. Near as Alma could tell, it was built with a wooden frame, then had hardened mud or clay for walls. The whole structure was somewhat circular, the shape bearing similarities to a giant onion. A wooden door was the only indication of what constituted the “front” of the house. Eliza had even managed to create small windows here and there. The trees surrounding it had long strings running between them, almost every inch of which were covered in strange trinkets and charms. While most of them were unique, Alma noted a startlingly large number of what appeared to be dreamcatchers dangling from the wires. As the wind blew, the various objects clinked together like hundreds of windchimes.
Wordlessly, Eliza opened the door of the house, and gestured for them to come inside, “Don’t touch anything,” was her only stipulation.
Basic wooden furniture adorned the inside, along with more of the strange charms, and, fittingly for a witch, nothing short of a few hundred vials, jars, and flasks filled with various things.
As Alma and Hazel stood and took in the witch’s house, they were caught off-guard when Eliza emerged from another room and lobbed a pair of green pants and panties at Hazel, who only barely caught them in time. “Feel free to throw those on,” Eliza said, eyeing the urine stains between Hazel’s legs.
“Right, er, thanks Eliza!” Hazel stammered out, blushing hotly as her wet pants were mentioned. Alma couldn’t help but find it somewhat cute. Not that she was in any position to think as much, considering she’d crapped her pants when she fought the oranzelg. And according to Hazel, she’d even pissed on herself while she was passed out.
Recalling that fact, Alma glanced down at her own pants, and was grateful they were black- there were no residual stains visible on them. She suppressed a chuckle as she mused on the reason she suspected hunters wore all black. It was a lesson newer hunters tended to pick up on pretty fast. It took her apprentice a few runs into the forests before he fully understood.
She winced as she recalled Donny. She’d been negligent, and he’d gotten hurt because of it. His injury put a fairly decisive end to his career as a hunter. He lived, at least; that was more than could be said for most people who drop their guard in the forest.
“So where are you two headed?” Eliza asked.
Alma was brought back to reality with a quick “What?”.
“Where are the two of you going? I need to know how much food you’ll need,” Eliza stared blankly at her.
“Oh, sorry. We’re going to Arnwick,” Alma answered, Hazel gave an accompanying nod as she finished putting on the clothes Eliza had given her. Alma hadn’t even noticed her friend had been changing.
Eliza’s eyes opened only slightly more than usual, but still the widest Alma had seen them go, “Arnwick?”.
“Our home was starting to wither, so we thought we’d head to Arnwick,” said Hazel.
Eliza fixed Hazel with an analytical stare, then quickly turned her head towards Alma, “If it were just you, or you and another hunter, I wouldn’t question it,” She again turned to look at Hazel, “but since you’re bringing her, I can only assume you don’t know about Arnwick,”.
Alma Hazel exchanged worried glances, then both looked back to the young witch for an explanation.
“You don’t, huh?” She gave a quick sigh, “Some sort of powerful monster appeared in Arnwick a couple weeks ago. It did something to the people, made them go crazy. Now the place is a breeding ground for monsters,”.
“Arnwick is...” Alma began, trying to think what the monster could be. Nothing she knew of behaved like this.
A moment of silence lingered between them, until Hazel broke it, “T-then… all of this...” her voice was shaky, Alma looked up to see horror written across her face, “Was for nothing!?”.
“Hazy...”
Alma walked to her friend, and put a hand on her shoulder, but retracted it when Hazel whipped around to face her, “Alma...” tears were welling in the merchant’s eyes, “I sold everything for this!” the tears began to flow down her cheeks, “I-I lost everything with the carriage!” She brought her hands over her face as she was wracked with sobs, “Oh, God, what am I gonna do...”.
Alma gave her a comforting hug, “What are we going to do, you mean. You’re not alone, Hazy,”.
Hazel calmed down a little, but she still needed a moment. As Alma was comforting her, Eliza coughed lightly, then spoke, “There is always the option of killing the monster,”.
“Kill it?!” Alma retorted, “A whole town couldn’t kill it, why would we stand a chance?”
“Because you’ve got a witch,” There was no doubt- Eliza smiled slightly as she said that.
“Y-you mean...” Hazel looked up at their new friend, still teary-eyed.
“If the two of you are up for the challenge, I’ll gladly help you kill the monster,”
“But why?”
“Because sooner or later, the monsters are going to figure how to get by my charms, and then I won’t last an hour against them. If we kill the big one now, then I won’t have to leave my home,”
With one last sniffle, Hazel finished her moment of grief, and took a step back from Alma, “And you think we can do it?”.
Eliza gave a simple shrug, “Probably. I have enough materials in here to kill everything in the forest. I just need to brew the right concoction, then throw it at the monster,”.
Alma knew it couldn’t be that simple. She knew it wouldn’t be that simple, and she was pretty sure Hazel and Eliza knew it, too. Still, though, Eliza was undoubtedly a talented alchemist. If any of them could pull of some miracle that would save them, it would be her. Hazel seemed to be thinking the same thing, as newfound hope shone brightly in her eyes.
“Alright, Eliza,” Alma held her hand out to the witch, “Welcome to the team,”. Awkwardly, Eliza begrudgingly shook her hand, clearly not accustomed to the gesture. “Gather our things; we have a town to save,”.
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It’s funny, how easily the excitement of a moment can ruined simply because you need to relieve yourself. Sadly, this was the situation Alma now found herself in. She could feel a weight resting in her abdomen, and it would have to be dealt with, or else it would wind up resting in the seat of her pants. Ordinarily, she would have no qualms about taking a quick break and paying a visit to the nearest bush, but things were different now. Time was of the essence, for one thing; but much more urgent was the abundance of monsters. She’d be vulnerable if she stopped to empty herself.
Of course, if a monster attacked them, she had a feeling she’d wind up in need of new underwear anyway. Alma didn’t often get the crap literally scared out of her- not like Hazel or Donny- but more than once she’d been attacked while she needed to go, and ended the fight with wet streaks down her legs, or a mess on her rear end.
She recalled how, a few years ago, she’d been on a hunt with Donny, and had forgotten to relieve herself beforehand. Much like her current situation, she found herself bursting. As she excused herself, a bear, rabid and crazed, charged at her. As she fought it, she had no attention left to give to her bowels and bladder, and unconsciously filled and drenched her pants. Donny teased her about it, so she later placed the body of a monster they slew inside his tent, causing him to fall backwards and soil his trousers when he opened it.
This memory is not helping to take my mind off of this, She thought, almost sternly, to herself. She decided to busy her mind by simply studying her surroundings. The forest around them had abandoned all pretense of being a regular forest. Jagged, twisted branches sprouted from black trees, their leaves a muted and dull green. Gray clouds loomed overhead, letting in just enough light to cast creeping shadows and turn the unsettling forestry into nightmares. She turned and looked at her traveling companions. Eliza, as expected, looked straight ahead, with a facial expression that would make one think she had no interest in what she was doing. Hazel quietly and nervously looked around, keeping an eye out for monsters. The poor thing had been surprised too much on this trip. Alma noticed with some pity that the two of them were both beginning to sweat, and Hazel was breathing harder than normal. Neither of them were used to lugging around so much stuff, and the exertion was getting to them. Alma smirked, for she had barely even noticed the extra baggage.
An angry gurgle from her abdomen informed her that her efforts to distract herself from her needs were doomed to failure.
“What’s that?” Hazel asked, her excitement slightly masked by her exhaustion.
Looking where Hazel pointed, Alma and Eliza beheld a large inn nestled between the trees. They exchanged confused looks, but hurried towards it. Hazel and Eliza needed a place to rest, and Alma rather desperately needed an outhouse. The outside of the building was fairly well-maintained, with only slight signs of wear. From inside, the clatter of dishes and utensils was audible, even among the much more audible sounds of merriment and festivity. Warm, orange light streamed from the windows.
The place could hardly have looked more inviting. And that worried Alma. The party arrived at the threshold of the door. Hazel’s mouth was practically watering at the prospect of entering. Eliza’s face had shifted to one of uncharacteristic confusion. Honestly, more akin to downright befuddlement.
“When did… How...” Eliza struggled to even formulate her questions.
“Eliza,” Alma asked in a serious tone, “Is this structure strange to you? Should it not be here?”
“I...” She paused, and looked over the exterior of the strange building, “am uncertain,”
“Then perhaps we should-” The door of the inn swung inwards, revealing a stocky woman in a barmaid’s outfit. She had fiery red hair that curled around her head. She had a friendly face, and wore a smile just as warm as the inside of the tavern.
“I thought I heard someone outside the door!” the barmaid’s voice was loud and friendly. Seeing the surprise written on all three of their faces, the barmaid chuckled, “Been a long trip, huh? This place is paradise to anyone who’s been traveling to Arnwick,” She turned to the crowd of people inside, and shouted “Ain’t that right, boys?!”. In a thunderous chorus, the large crowd of atleast thirty people cheered their agreements.
Exchanging looks of disbelief with Hazel, Alma finally spoke, “Sorry, we just… Weren’t expecting to find someplace like this out here,”.
“Neither were they!” the barmaid replied, stabbing her thumb towards the crowd, “That’s what makes this place so wonderful!”.
“It… does look pretty nice in there...” Hazel quietly said, giving Alma a hopeful look.
Alma leaned in to whisper in Eliza’s ear, “Tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary,”. The witch nodded in reply.
The group entered the building, Hazel much more happily than the others. They were greeting enthusiastically by dozens of people- men and women, most of them looking as though they had as rough a time getting here as they, themselves had. With a curt smile and quick wave, Alma’s greeting was done. Hazel simply blushed and averted her eyes. Eliza, however, looked as though she had just beheld the most horrifying monster imaginable: a crowd of people, all looking at you.
Eliza was frozen, stiff as a board. Picking up on her distress, Alma grabbed Eliza’s wrist, and made her wave at everyone. It seemed to be enough for the crowd, who laughed it off, then resumed their festivities. Everyone’s eyes off of her, Eliza released the breath she’d been holding. The bags under her eyes had more than doubled.
“You okay?” Alma asked, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.
Slowly, Eliza’s eyes focused on Alma, and she gave a quick nod as her answer.
“If you say so,” Alma didn’t want to press the situation any further.
After a minute of searching, the party found an open table, and settled in. Hazel sat herself right next to Alma, while Eliza sat across from them. They were fortunate to have found a table near a wall, away from the bulk of the celebrants. Eliza was very careful to sit facing away from the crowd. Alma could see that the poor woman had gone pale, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
“Not a fan of parties, I take it?” Alma asked, trying to ease the tension.
“N-not-” Eliza’s voice was squeaky and very weak, and she cleared her throat, “Not as such, no,”.
Before the conversation could proceed any further, the barmaid approached their table, and placed three mugs of cold ale in front of them. “On the house!” She said with cheer.
“Oh, thank-” Hazel stammered out a reply, but was interrupted when some in the tavern began to shout.
“Oi, Isabel! Need more drinks over here!”
“You got it!” The barmaid, apparently named Isabel shouted back. She walked away without a second’s hesitation.
Hazel reached for her drink, but Alma swiftly slapped her hand away. When Hazel looked at her in confusion, Alma simply shook her head.
“They could have put anything in there,” Eliza answered.
“Don’t you two think you’re being a little paranoid?” Hazel asked with a skeptical look.
“Absolutely,” Alma’s voice was dead serious, and she affixed Hazel with an unblinking glare, “It’s how you stay alive, Hazel,”.
“Here,” Eliza retrieved a thin, straight object from her coat pocket. Dipping it into Hazel’s drink, she pulled it out, and turned it over, scouting for irregularities. “The drink is safe,” she finally said.
“See?” Hazel lifted the cup, and took a quick gulp. She shuddered as the taste of alcohol fully registered.
Hesitantly, Alma listed the cup to her lips, and took a small drink. Both of them looked expectantly at Alma, but she just pushed the cup away.
A loud crash caught the party’s attention, and they looked to a nearby table to see that a young woman had passed out. “I think this one’s had a bit too much!” one her friends yelled as he laughed, clearly having had a bit too much, himself. The woman was lying flat on her back with a blissful expression on her face. Alma had a clear view as her groin was quickly saturated in urine. The wet patch grew along with a puddle underneath her.
Seeing someone ruin their pants reminded Alma of how close she was to doing the same. Moreover, seeing someone piss themselves made her realize her bladder was now full, as well. She crossed her legs in order to hold it. She was honestly more worried using the bathroom here than she would have been in a bush in the forest.
The sound of an empty mug hitting the table drew Alma’s interest. Hazel had already downed her entire drink. She was now eyeing Alma’s untouched beverage. Hazel wasn’t the drunken-partygoer type, and the look in her eyes wasn’t so much lust for the drink, but closer to desperation. Alma understood suddenly: Hazel had just seen her life’s work go up in flames shortly before seeing her friend get mauled by a giant monster. It was understandable that she’d want something to help her forget. With a sigh, Alma slid her mug over to her friend, who greedily scooped it up and started drinking.
Just seeing Hazel gulp down the ale made Alma’s bladder ache. She motioned for Eliza to lean forward, then spoke in a hushed voice “I’m going to go look around this place,” Careful not to draw attention to the act, she slid one of her silver daggers across the table to the witch, “If anything happens, you scream for me, and I’ll be here,”.
“Understood,” Was all Eliza had to say.
Alma stood, and navigated her way through the jubilant crowd. Eventually, she happened upon a hallway that seemed to be empty. There were only a few doors, and most of them contained nothing of interest. At the end of the hallway, however, was a door to the basement. If there was a place to keep a dark and disturbing secret, it would be the basement. Ensuring that no one was watching her, she stealthily slipped in.
The basement was dark, and the air was stale. Keeping one hand on her dagger, Alma began looking around. Something felt off, though. She had a peculiar feeling, one that made her hairs stand on end. As her paranoia intensified, Alma realized what the feeling was: she was being watched. She was certain of it.
Her head whipped around, looking for any sign of another person, but she was well and truly alone in the room. She knew this place felt off. More than likely, whatever watched her was demonic in nature, and she had no earthly idea what it could be. An icy coldness filled her chest, slowly spilling out to the rest of her body. It was an emotion she was well-acquainted with, but so rarely felt so strongly: fear.
“Got tired of the party?”
The voice nearly made Alma jump out of her own skin. She whirled around to see Isabel, who was still giving a friendly smile. Alma felt a heat welling up around her womanhood, and clenched herself as hard as she could when she realized she’d just pissed in her panties. She didn’t think any of it leaked through to her pants, but at least several inches of her underwear were now wet with urine.
On the bright side, her near loss of control gave her an idea for an excuse, “Sorry, I was looking for the restroom,”.
“Heh heh, You’d better hope I don’t catch you making a puddle in my basement,” Isabel laughed. She was smiling. She was laughing and joking.
So why did she seem so sinister?
“Well, I should really return to my friends...” Alma walked past the barmaid, until Isabel grabbed hold of her wrist. As soon as she did so, the door to the basement swung shut, blocking off her only avenue of escape. Alma was right: this place was demonic.
Wasting no time at all, Alma drew her silver knife, and lashed out at Isabel, aiming for her throat. A look of surprise was plain on her face as she lifted her thick arm to block it. The knife’s blade bit into Isabel’s arm. As Alma expected, a sizzling sound like burning meat filled the air as the silver parted her flesh. Isabel was possessed.
“AAAAAHHHHH!!” She howled, grabbing at her wound. She looked up at Alma with hate-filled eyes.
She would find no mercy in the monster hunter, who struck out once more. The barmaid’s eyes widened as the dagger flew towards her face. She tried to pull back, but was too slow, and the knife left a two-inch long gash on her cheek. It, too, sizzled and crackled with holy scorn.
In a flurry of rage, Isabel began swinging her powerful arms, trying her damnedest to land a punch on Alma. She swung the knife once again, but this time, Isabel had learned her lesson. She jumped back, giving Alma to opening she needed. Drawing her crossbow, she aimed for Isabel’s chest, and fired. The woman’s eyes lit up with fear, and she covered her chest with her arms, allowing the bolt to sink in to her right forearm.
She fell to her knees in agony, suppressing screams. Alma ran forwards to deal the final blow. As she drew near, Isabel launched herself at the monster hunter with inhuman speed and strength, slamming her mighty shoulder into Alma’s chest. She stumbled backwards, her chest aching, until she fell backwards.
“The darkness is my domain, hunter,” Isabel said, her voice augmented by demonic powers, “Allow me to welcome you to it,”. She grabbed hold of the room’s only lantern, and, with a quick breath, extinguished its flame. Alma’s eyes widened as the room, and her opponent, were bathed in impenetrable darkness.
Pulling herself to her feet, she clutched her dagger tightly, and prepared for the demon’s assault. She felt unsteady, and she noticed that her legs were shaking.
Fear.
Her heart was beating so fast, she could hardly hear anything. Something toppled over to her right, and she turned in the direction of the noise, but then something was smashed to her left, drawing her attention. She pivoted back and forth, trying so hard to make out any shapes in the darkness. Her effort was for naught, though, as she felt something of titanic strength grab hold of her right arm. She could not see what manner of demon she faced, but it was a very strong one.
As she struggled to pull her arm free, a loud CRACK sounded in the dark room. A second later, the sound of her dagger clattering to the floor was audible. And another second later, the pain of a broken arm was apparent. Alma made a choking gasp as pain seized her. With hardly a flick of its wrist, the demon threw Alma against the wall, and she slid down, until she sat on her rear, her back leaning against it.
She looked up, into the endless abyss around her, and she felt numb with terror. She could hear running water, and she knew instantly that her bladder had just failed her. The hot liquid soaked her crotch, and she felt it wetting the fabric of her pants under her ass, as well. Her left hand, which she still had feeling in, rested on the ground near her, and she could feel the warm urine spread to her fingertips as the puddle expanded in all direction underneath her.
“I did say you’d better hope I don’t catch you making a puddle down here...” The demon mocked her.
An unfortunately familiar hand gripped Alma by the throat, and effortlessly lifted her into the air. It began crushing her throat. Alma felt tears flowing down her cheeks. Her mind raced like never before. Everything seemed to move so slowly as she struggled to think of something, anything that could save her.
More and more of her body was failing her as her damage grew more severe. Some unladylike noises filled the room, and were followed by a very loud squelching sound as she emptied her bowels into her pants and panties. All of what she’d been holding in spilled into her clothes. It was only semi-solid, and a very large bulge formed on her ass. Her panties reached their limit, and much of the mess escaped them, and the lumpy bulge now ran halfway down her thighs, too. She could feel liquid waste running down the back of her legs, as well as whatever urine was still left in her body rewarming her groin. Failing to think of anything that could save her, Alma resorted to simple struggling. She punched and kicked at the powerful arm that held her. She did her best to ignore the squishing of her mess as her legs thrashed about.
Suddenly, an idea struck her. With her good arm, she reached behind her, and drew one of her silver crossbow bolts. Using it like a dagger, she began rapidly stabbing the arm that held her, until the pain overwhelmed the demon, and it released her as it howled in pain. Alma landed in the puddle of her own urine. Moreover, she landed on her rear, flattening the bulge in her pants. As this point, there was hardly an inch of her backside that wasn’t soiled.
But the state of her pants was far from the most pressing issue right now. She was outmatched as long as she was in here. If she could see, then she stood a chance, but as things were, Alma was little more than demon food. She had to get out of this room, back into the light. If Eliza and Hazel were there, she knew the three of them could defeat this demon. As she fumbled around for the stairs, she felt some shame that she was running back to her much younger, much weaker friends for help. She was especially unhappy about the fact that, upon her return, her loss of control would be seen not just by her friends, but by the thirty-something people in the tavern. Swallowing her pride, she finally located the stairs. Behind her, the demon stirred, no doubt preparing to attack her once more. She ran up the stairs, as fast as her legs would carry her. Swinging the door open, she emerged into the light.
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<Several Minutes Ago...>
Eliza watched as Alma pushed through the crowd of people. It was good that Alma had not asked her to do it, as Eliza would sooner die than interact with so many people. She turned the dagger over in her hand, wondering if she might need to use it, tonight. Her interactions with other humans were so rare, she had never really been able to acquire silver equipment. She lamented at how much easier her life would have been if she’d had this little knife a few years ago. So many monster encounters would have been easier. So many pairs of pants could have gone un-soiled.
Eliza looked over at Hazel, who had now gulped down every drink on the table. Her face was flush, and she had the carefree expression Eliza knew to associate with inebriation. She was somewhat surprised. Sure, Hazel had drunk quite a bit, but for it to hit so hard, so fast was unusual. She must be a lightweight, thought Eliza.
Realizing Hazel’s state made her suddenly conscious of her own. She found herself wobbling about, even though she was sitting, and had only had a small drink from her cup. She was certain this was abnormal. For just a moment, her vision blurred as she teetered, and a thought struck her. Trying to keep from looking too panicked, Eliza turned around, and looked to the various tables around them.
No, no, no, no, no, She was thinking, methodically surveying every table. After she had seen all that weren’t obscured by the crowd, she concluded: there was no salt, nor any silver cutlery. Either object would have kept monsters at bay, even killed some of the lesser ones if they touched it, and yet this establishment had none. In the middle of a monster-infested forest.
She slowly turned back to look at Hazel, who was slumped over onto the table, unmoving. The cacophony of sound around her seemed to go out completely. A pit formed in her stomach as fear and anxiety took root. This is the house of a demon, She concluded. She hoped very dearly that the beast was not aware that she had seen through its trick.
“Hazel?” She asked, slowly, and with rising worry.
But the woman did not move. Eliza took a deep breath to quell the near-hysteria inside herself. She took Hazel’s hand in her own, and felt for a pulse. She was relieved when she felt it. Hazel was not dead- not yet. Perhaps the demon thought to put all of them to sleep, then claim their souls as they were passed out. Greater demons were known for their trickery.
She clutched the silver knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Alma couldn’t return soon enough. If, indeed, she would return at all. The thought caused her breathing to quicken. Both she and Hazel were nearly killed by a lesser wolf demon, but a cunning greater demon would make a mockery out of both of them.
Eliza’s shoulders slumped, and she felt fatigue tug at her. Whatever was in her drink was taking its toll. She had to think, and fast. An idea came to her, and without hesitation, she stabbed the silver blade into the table, and began carving. Making twists and turns, the etching was finally completed, and a holy symbol now rested upon the table. Such markings carry the power of the heavens, and deter weaker monsters. She would need more. Making another cut, she created a second symbol. Then a third. Then a fourth. The minutes blurred together as she converted their table into a sanctuary.
Now came the last, and most miserable step. She looked at the palm of her left hand, and raised the knife. This was a trick she’d only theorized would work, and she’d hoped never to have to repeat it. She took a deep breath and held it, then stabbed the tip of the knife into her hand, making the same twists and turns. The pain was searing, and she felt tears welling in her eyes, but after a moment, it was done. A holy symbol- carved by silver, no less- was now part of her body. She sobbed lightly a couple of times, trying to ignore the pain.
Eliza’s preparations were interrupted by a loud thud from the basement. She was surprised she could hear it through the festivities. Until she realized that the room had gone completely silent, and perhaps had been for a few minutes, now. Her heart beat so loudly she wondered if everyone around her could hear it. As she turned to look at the crowd, the first thing to enter her vision was a greenish-blue light. She turned further to confirm her suspicions. The crowd had shorn their disguises, and revealed their ghostly forms. She stood from her seat in alarm. An entire horde of spectres was slowly surrounding Eliza and Hazel. Each and every one of them stared right into her soul with murderous intent.
Eliza felt numb, and looked down when she heard the splashing of water. She had urinated a little- enough to create a short stream from under her skirt. The liquid’s impact with the floor caused a splash, and some of the piss droplets landed on her legs. After realizing her loss of control, she also noted the presence of a few drops of her urine slowly sliding down her thighs.
They wanted to kill her. They wanted so desperately to kill both Eliza and Hazel, and yet none of the approached her. Eliza wasn’t particularly religious, but even she thanked God that her plan with the symbols worked. She had bought them time. Quite a bit of it. Eliza pulled out every last bottle, conister, satchel, and stray ingredient she had on herself, desperately searching for ideas about what to do. She could most certainly make a firebomb, but she couldn’t be certain they’d be able to escape. Not to mention that the fires could trap Alma inside. Hazel shuffled slightly in her sleep, and gave Eliza an idea.
Grabbing everything she’d need, Eliza swiftly began concocting a potion of awakening. One of the spirits gave off a ghostly screech as it hurled itself towards the pair. Eliza whipped around in sudden fright, her tired face pale and eyes wide. The spirit dissolved in mid-air just before it reached them. Eliza let go of the breath she was holding- the holy symbols worked. As long as the greater demon didn’t attack them, they were fine. Her relief was short-lived, though, when she detected her body had attempted a different kind of relief. More warm streams slowly wound down her slender legs. She had only released a little bit of urine, and she could feel there was much more just waiting to escape.
After a moment, the potion was done. She pulled Hazel onto the table, opened her mouth, and poured the mixture in. Unlike the one she made for Alma, this potion wouldn’t have to battle with oranzelg venom, and should wake up the woman in only a moment. She also took a small drink from the mixture, herself. Almost immediately, she felt the life return to her, and the drowsiness wear off. With Hazel’s treatment completed, Eliza was wracking her brain trying to think of what to do next. She found most of her thoughts kept returning to almost praying that Alma would return soon.
What am I doing?! She thought, ashamed of herself, I am a witch! I will find a way out of this.
She perused her ingredients once more, going through a mental checklist of possible concoctions. Hazel shuddered suddenly, as the awakening potion spurred her to life. Looking at Hazel, Eliza suddenly knew what to do. With renewed vigor, she gathered ingredient after ingredient, and began mixing.
Minutes later, she heard the sound of a door slamming against a wall. Looking toward its source, Eliza saw Alma emerge from the back hallway. A large wet stain covered the front of the monster hunter’s pants. Eliza saw the hunter’s right arm dangling limply, and she felt she knew what prompted her accident.
Of greater import, however, was the fact that all the ghosts now gazed at the unprotected and injured Alma. The hunter was already breathing heavily, already exhausted, and she seemed to be low on hope. Seeing the blue-green tide of malevolent spirits appeared to suck the little drive she had left right out of her. She fell to her knees, and the spirits started to close in.
Swearing silently, Eliza looked to the mark on her hand, and prayed she was right about its effectiveness. Clutching the dagger tightly, she stood on shaky legs, and walked out of the safety of her impromptu sanctuary. A few spirits immediately charged towards her, sending a chill down her spine. As they drew near, she held her palm out to them, and they screeched as the holy symbol prevented their approach. Of course my plan worked, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the new droplets of piss falling between her legs.
Walking as fast as her frayed nerves would allow, she waded into the sea of ghosts. They all screamed and wailed as they parted to let her through. Funny thing is, Eliza found this preferable to walking through a crowd of living people.
After what seemed like hours of walking, she finally reached Alma, who was nearly in the fetal position. As the witch drew nearer, she smelled a horrible odor about the woman, and realized she’d done quite a bit more than simply wet herself. She couldn’t help but notice that rather enormous bulge in the back of her trousers. Eliza shuddered. She didn’t know much about Alma’s constitution, but surely anything that could reduce her to this must be a force to be reckoned with.
Extending her marked hand, she grabbed the hunter by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. Alma looked up at her in complete disbelief. She couldn’t believe that she was being rescued. She had already accepted that she was going to die. Ghosts had a way of doing that. Of draining your hope and courage.
“Alma!” Eliza shouted, in her usual monotone, “Snap out of it! We need you!”.
Alma simply stared, not comprehending. So Eliza delivered a mighty slap to Alma’s face. She blinked rapidly, then she looked around, taking in the situation. “Hazel!!” She yelled as she spotted her friend. She started to run towards her, but Eliza grabbed her arm to slow her down. Using the mark on her hand, she once again cut through the swarm of spirits, until they arrived at the marked table.
Alma looked in confusion at the strange mixture Eliza was making. Eliza then held out her hand, simply saying “Bolt,”.
“What?”
“Bolt. Crossbow bolt. They’re silver, right?” Eliza didn’t even take her eyes off of her work.
Alma foraged in her pack for a second before finding some of her spare bolts. Fortunately, they hadn’t been lost in the fight, “Yes, it’s silver,” she said as she handed one to the witch.
Using the silver bolt, she stirred the mixture, then just dropped the bolt right into it. After a few seconds, it transitioned from a deep blue to a milky white. With no hesitation, Eliza lifted the concoction up, and poured it into Hazel’s mouth, making sure to keep the bolt from falling in, as well.
“What is that, what are you giving her?”
“It’s-” Eliza began, but stopped when the room seemed to grow extremely cold. The greater demon was here. She leaned in to Alma’s ear, and quietly whispered what she had done to her.
“Are… Are you sure-” Doubt was written plainly across Alma’s face.
“Of course I’m sure,” She hastily threw her belongings back into her satchel, “Now come on, we have to-” She stopped talking as she looked over and saw the greater demon approaching.
It was a terrifying creature. Pale, purple skin was stretched over an emaciated, elongated humanoid body. All along its unholy skin, faces sat, their features writhing endlessly. What she could only assume to be the primary face out of the many on its head affixed a cruel sadistic glare on them.
Eliza swore her heart stopped beating as it walked towards them. She stumbled backwards, bumping into Alma, who caught her before she could fall. In its state of terrified confusion, her body’s first act was to spray urine down her legs. Her cold and damp panties turned hot once more, and a thick stream fell between her legs, splattering onto the wood floor. She could feel sheaths of warm liquid sliding down her thighs, as well.
“Alma,” Eliza said, her voice quiet, “Now.”
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Hazel opened her eyes, and nothing but blurry smudges and a headache greeted her. That and… a strange, inexplicable feeling that she could not describe. Sitting up, she found that she was lying on a table. Next, she realized that she was alone. Shaking her head a little, Hazel looked around, and finally saw the army of ghosts and the twisted greater demon approaching her.
She shot up to her feet, and tried to run, but stumbled and had to brace herself against a wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eliza and Alma.
Leaving the building.
She was confused at first, then heartbroken as she realized they had abandoned her. Tears began to flow down her face. The whispers of the ghosts grew closer and closer as she flattened herself against the wall.
With no resistance, her bladder emptied itself into her green trousers. The fabric around her womanhood swiftly darkened, and twin stains grew and grew, the urine surging downwards. The wetness reached her ankles, and there some flowed into her shoes, filling them up; some flowed over the side, puddling on the floor below her. Similarly with no resistance, she voided her bowels- as easily as if she were using the restroom. With a light crackle, her pants and panties tented out. Her mess collapsed on itself, making way for even more. After a short moment, she could feel her warm and sticky waste pressing up against her bottom, the hug of her panties completely replaced by her fear-driven release.
“Looks like your friends decided they were better off without you,” The greater demon spoke, its voice echoing, “Don’t worry, they won’t make it much farther,”. The monster reached out its hand towards her face, “And you’ll always have a place in my little family,”.
Still weeping, Hazel shut her eyes against the horror that stood before her. The hand reached her forehead, and she felt this horrible draining feeling, almost as if she was being pulled away, yet not moving. And then, there was screaming, but it was not her’s.
A horrible eldritch howl filled the building, nearly rupturing her ears. She opened her eyes, and saw the greater demon’s hand melting away where it had touched her. Little cracks and fissures appeared all over its body, before they evolved into horrifically deep lacerations. After several gut wrenching moments, the beast finally perished, and all of its physical form simply boiled away. Following after their former master, all the trapped spirits lingered for only a moment before passing on.
Hazel had no idea what to think. She glanced down at her hands, wondering if she had somehow just caused that to happen. Taking a worried step forward, Hazel swiveled her head around to make sure there were no more surprises, but the whole building was empty, now. Taking a few more steps, she scrunched her face as she felt her wet and full panties cling to her.
Then the door flew open, and Alma charged inside. She gave Hazel a very quick one-armed hug, then immediately began checking her for injuries.
“W-what just...”
“It was Eliza’s plan,” Alma answered.
“I made you drink a mixture. Normally those ingredients are used to consecrate things against the unholy, so I made you imbibe it. When it tried to pull your soul out, it learned that I, more-or-less, consecrated you,”.
“Y-you could have told me!” Hazel shouted, looking at the both of them.
“Hazy, please, there was no time, we had to run, and-”
“It had to look genuine” Eliza finished.
“It was genuine.” Hazel said firmly, “I… I thought you two had actually...”
“Hazy, we would never do something like that,” Alma assured her, looking into her eyes.
“Let’s… let’s just go...” Hazel said after a pause. A lot had happened, today, and there were a lot of fingers to point. She wanted to change her pants before they got to any of it.
Silently, the group retrieved all of their belonging, and exited the cursed tavern.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present the first chapter of Journey to Arnwick to be released in 2018... Nearly five months in. Sorry about the slowness.
But this chapter was a lot of fun to write, and I hope its a fun read, as well. A new major character gets a lengthy introduction. And, fair warning, there's a few very brief male wetting/messing scenes. I'm kind of testing the waters to see if people will be too upset by it, or not mind that much. Feel free to voice your opinion on whether or not you'd mind there being male scenes in future chapters.
Without further ado, I hope you enjoy.
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A harsh sound, almost like the cracking of a whip, accompanied the crossbow bolt as it soared away from the weapon that bore it. Through the cool, night air it flew, before it sailed passed a hastily-constructed target, and buried itself into the bark of a tree.
“Damn...” Hazel muttered dejectedly under her breath.
“Imagine where the bolt is going to fly, not where you want it to fly,” Alma instructed. The monster hunter’s right arm rested in a makeshift sling after their encounter with the demon in the tavern. That had been a few days ago, and it was going to take many more until Alma could actually wield her favorite weapon again. In the interim, Alma had been teaching Hazel how to use it, in the almost inevitable event that they are attacked once again. Her training had begun yesterday, and continued in the early morning and late night, whenever the group was camped. And she was bad at shooting. Very bad. Alma was doing her best to tutor her, and insisted that she would come to learn how to use the crossbow with some practice.
But she wasn’t learning it. She missed most of her shots. Her arms were sore from holding the heavy weapon, and her hands ached terribly from constantly having to reload it and pull the tight string back. Hazel turned to Alma, intent on saying as much, but didn’t get a word out before Alma’s encouraging smile and a hint of pride in her eyes made her keep her thoughts to herself. Alma thinks I can… She thought, And Alma wouldn’t be wrong about something like that. I will make her proud.
Ignoring the cramps in her fingers, she tugged the string back, and fitted a bolt inside the weapon. She took aim at the target. She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled as Alma had advised her to. Another harsh sound shattered the silence, and the bolt was let loose. Flying through the air, it pierced into the target, landing roughly halfway between the center and the outer edge.
Hazel felt a smile creep onto her face. She couldn’t help but feel happy on the rare occasions when she actually landed the shot. A rough-but-friendly pat on the back from Alma indicated she felt the same.
“There you go, Hazy!” Alma was almost beaming.
“Thanks, but...” Hazel began, but trailed off.
“‘But...’?”
“Well, I know this training is for emergencies, but I can’t help but feel that...” She paused for a moment, “Well, that if there is an emergency, I’m just going to wet myself and be too frightened to use it...”
Alma seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “Let me tell you a story,” she gestured towards their campfire, and the two sat down near it, basking in its warmth. “On one of my first official hunts with Donny, when he was maybe nineteen,” she began, gazing into the flames as she spoke, “we took up a contract to exterminate some ghouls that had overrun a lumber mill and some neighboring cottages. Very basic stuff, childsplay, honestly,” it still impressed Hazel that Alma honestly considered slaying ghouls to be easy work, “so we set out, and before long, it became pretty clear that there was, indeed, a ghoul infestation. The wildlife had all fled the area, the plants were suffering, and the air reeked. Now, this was one of Donny’s first hunts ever, and most certainly his first encounter with undead ever. Long before we even saw any of them, he was pale and shivering a bit. I tried to ease his nerves, told him how easy prey that ghouls were, and that worked a little,” she chuckled lightly as she reminisced, “Well, he got scared again very soon. The moment the fighting started, and he actually got face-to-face with one, all the color and life just drained out of him… and down his legs,”
“He wet himself?” Hazel asked, beginning to see the point of Alma’s story.
“To say he ‘wet himself’ is pretty forgiving. The poor thing sent half a lake’s worth of piss down his legs. And it goes without saying what he did to the seat of his trousers,” Alma chuckled again, and Hazel joined her. “But, do you know what happened?” Alma asked, and Hazel shook her head, “Once we’d cleared out the undead, we did a quick search of the area before deciding that we had killed all of them. We had not. As I sheathed my daggers and slung my crossbow over my shoulder, a crawler ghoul-” Alma noted Hazel’s look of confusion, “- a very fast and agile type of ghoul that likes to crawl on all fours- snuck up behind me. It jumped from a rooftop, and slammed into me as my back was turned, bringing me to the ground. It started howling and clawing into my back while I was trying to shake it off. I was struggling as much as I could, but it was hardly any use. And then, with no hesitation whatsoever, Donny sprints over- piss still dripping off his legs- and shoots the thing in the chest. While it’s screaming in pain, he keeps coming, and starts bashing it with the bluntest parts of his crossbow, until it stops moving. I pick myself up off the ground, and help him finish it.” She mimicked the act of stabbing with her good arm.
“Now…” She continued, “I had neglected to tell Donny one reason I was so relieved that the day’s hunt would be easy and quick,” She put on a slightly embarassed smile, “I needed to empty my bowels, somewhat urgently, and was hoping to do so after the hunt had ended. Once the crawler was dead, I quickly noticed how little I needed the privy anymore, and how heavy my trousers had suddenly become.”
“I think I see what you’re trying to tell me, but, well, I’ve already seen it, Alma.” Hazel averted her eyes as she explained, “you’ve already both wet and soiled yourself in front of me. I understand that it happens to everyone, but-”
“That’s not the point of my story at all,” Alma interrupted.
“It isn’t?”
“No, Hazy. My point was that Donny, so scared he pissed and shit in his own pants, put his fear aside and charged into battle with the courage of a hundred men the moment he knew that he needed to. He and I have seen each other in dire need of a change of pants or underwear hundreds of times, but we always came to the other’s rescue, no matter how terrified we are. We did this because we knew it was the right thing to do. Being brave isn’t acting without fear, Hazy. It’s acting in spite of it,” Alma reached her hand out and patted Hazel on the back once again, “and I know that you’re very brave, even if you don’t,”.
Hazel looked up at her, unsure of what to say.
“And that’s why the crossbow training isn’t going to stop until you’re a master. Whenever you do turn brave, I won’t have you dying just because I didn’t teach you to use the damn thing,”.
“Okay, Alma,” Was all she could think to say, but, in all honesty, it was all that needed to be said, as she looked into her friend’s eyes with gratitude.
They stood back up, Hazel with crossbow in hand, and resumed training.
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A young lady crouched in the bushes, quietly observing the two women. One of them appeared to have a broken arm, and the other could barely lift her crossbow. These two hardly looked like the “great warriors” she was meant to be looking for. She looked a bit more closely at the two, and even through the taller woman’s thick jacket, it was immediately evident that her physicality was impressive. As the tall woman seemed to be coaching the smaller one in the use of a crossbow, she guessed that the tall woman’s broken arm meant she had to relegate the duty of protection to someone.
One of them glanced in her direction, and she felt her heart skip a beat as she feared she may have been spotted. She quickly assessed herself, to see if there was any part of her that would be immediately visible. Her brown skirt covered her legs down to her ankles, and fit in well with the environment around them. Her white blouse certainly wasn’t blending in, but she was obscured enough by the foliage that it shouldn’t have mattered. It helped that she was not exactly a large person. She was only freshly nineteen years old, and even then, short for her age. Even so, anxiety began to get the better of her, and she realized that her light skin and blonde, fluffy hair were not exactly conducive to stealth.
A million sentiments of worry played through her mind as she wondered what they might do to her if they caught her. She knew nothing about these people, and worried that they could be dangerous.
Whether or not one of them may have suspected her presence, they both resumed their training, and seemed to forget about whatever it was that caught their attention. The hidden woman breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and felt her body gradually stop shivering. She hadn’t even realized she was shaking.
Very slowly, very quietly, she retreated further into the bush, preparing to head back. Whether or not they’re the ones we’re looking for, I should still tell-
Her thoughts were interrupted as she turned around and came face to face with a young woman in orange dress, almost bumping into her. The woman in orange looked at her with tired, inquisitive eyes. The woman couldn’t help but scream in shock, no matter how fervently she tried to suppress the sound. She stumbled backwards, until she tripped and fell, landing on her rear.
At the sudden commotion the other women had stopped their training, and were now walking towards them. The woman in orange stepped closer, then spoke, “Who are you, and why are you watching us?”
As the other two women closed the distance between them, the she noticed with dismay that they moved to encircle her. She was surrounded. She shook her head slightly, then forced herself to rise to her feet, determined to stand tall in the face of danger. Staring the woman in orange in the eyes, she answered “M-m-my name is E-emily...” Hearing the fear in her own voice caused her confidence to weaken.
Emily peered at the other two women from the corners of her eyes. The one with a broken arm had drawn a silvery dagger in her still-functioning left hand. The other was loading the crossbow, which was pointed at Emily. The one in the orange dress took another step forward, then spoke “And why were you watching us? What are you doing here?” Beyond being merely inquisitorial, the woman’s voice was cold, suspicious, and mean.
The questions were also almost perfectly synchronized with the rattling of a crossbow that had just been loaded and armed. The gravity of her situation was already crushing her; it was difficult to breathe normally; her heart felt ready to erupt out of her chest; and the harsh sound of the weapon being readied became the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Between Emily’s legs, her gray panties began to darken as bodily control faltered, and her bladder began to release. The hot stain grew from her womanhood, slowly spreading to encompass her entire groin, before she could feel the shameful heat beginning to spread to her backside. Emily blushed fiercely, knowing that she had begun pissing herself. Try as she might, she was unable to stop her release, only slow it. Two thin trails of hot urine trickled down her thighs, past her knees, and arrived at her feet, where they began pooling into the dirt.
Having slowed her urination, it was subtle enough that the women surrounding her might not even realize that she was wetting herself. Nonetheless, she was all too aware of what she’d done under her skirt, and she burned with shame about it. Though it felt like an eternity must have passed since she started to wet herself, it had only been a few seconds, and, after mentally collecting herself, she answered the woman’s questions, “I was w-watching you, because...” She paused to ponder just how much she should divulge to them, “M-my town is being attacked, and a witch hunter who’s protecting us said that some ‘great warriors’ should arrive soon. I was hoping to find them...” She was proud of herself for maintaining her composure while speaking, even though she could still feel the last of her piss trailing down her thighs.
The three women stopped to consider her words, until finally, the one with a broken arm said “Emily, is your village close by?”
“Y-yes,” Emily replied, “Just a few hours to the north,”
“And Emily?” The broken-armed woman continued. “May I see your hand, please?”
Confused, but not wishing to antagonize any of them, Emily complied, and slowly lifted her arm up, facing the palm to the woman. She stepped closer, then, with incredible speed, pricked Emily’s hand with her dagger. Emily shrieked in surprise and pain, and withdrew her hand, clutching it in pain. After a few seconds, she looked at the wound, and was relieved to see that it was little more than a deep scratch. It stung, but that was about all it would do.
“Sorry, Emily. The last ‘friendly’ person we met turned out to be a demon in human skin. I didn’t want a repeat of that encounter,” Seemingly satisfied with Emily’s reaction, or perhaps, lack thereof, she put her blade away, and signaled for the others to do the same with their weapons. “You can go, miss. And tell this witch hunter of yours that we’ll be along shortly,”.
“Y-yes ma’am,” The words came to her almost unbidden. Even with her arm in a sling, the tall, muscular woman commanded an aura of respect. Heeding her instructions, Emily turned and began to walk to the north, back to her home. Her face burned red with shame once more as she felt her shoes squishing with each step. She didn’t want to look behind her, but she was sure she had left a large puddle on the ground.
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Alma, Eliza, and Hazel watched Emily walk away. Hazel had noticed very quickly that they had frightened the poor woman into urinating in her clothes. It took all the willpower she had not to drop the crossbow and hug the poor thing when she noticed the little pools gathering around her feet. Though, like Alma said, their last “friendly” encounter had likely instilled each of them with some long-lasting trust issues.
“So, what do you think?” Alma asked, breaking the silence. She glanced back and forth, between Hazel and Eliza.
“Her village is on the path we have to travel, though I wonder if it would be safer and faster just to travel around it,” Eliza intoned.
“But she said it was being attacked” Hazel rebutted, “They might need our help,”.
“Hazy, we aren’t in fighting shape,” Alma said, with a grim expression on her face. Hazel hoped dearly that her friend wasn’t about to suggest they leave these people to their fate.
“B-but what about that witch hunter? Something about ‘great warriors’? Surely we should see what that’s about,” Hazel was desperately trying to find something that would convince the others to not ignore the village.
“We haven’t been very subtle. We killed a greater demon just a few nights ago. In all likelihood, this witch hunter was just hoping that whomever was responsible for that would happen upon the village,” Eliza said.
“Well, what luck!” Hazel half-shouted, growing exasperated, “We were responsible for it, and we have happened upon the village!”
“Hazy,” Alma said sternly, “I cannot fight in this state, and the two of you can hardly fight at all, we would be no help to them,”.
“S-sure we would!” Hazel was on the brink of tears, “Eliza could make them potions, and you and I could...” Hazel stopped when she saw Alma’s face. She had a miserable expression, and it quickly became clear to Hazel that this decision was not an easy one for Alma. “D-didn’t you just tell Emily that we’d ‘be along shortly’?”.
“Yes. To make her leave, while we weighed our options,”
“It was foolish of them to make their homes in this place,” Eliza interjected, “If they are wise, they’ll abandon their village. Even if we saved them from this crisis, a new one would arise the moment we departed,”.
“B-but the witch hunter!” Hazel’s eyes lit up with an idea, “Someone like that would be ideal for fighting the monster in Arnwick! A-and you said it yourself, Alma, we’re in no fighting shape. We need their help,”.
“Hazy...”
“Alma just… please...” the last word emerged as a choked sob. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving people that needed their help. Over the last several days, she had learned well what it meant to feel helpless, powerless. To come so close to death time and again. It was something Hazel wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Alma opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, as she looked sadly at Hazel. After a long moment, she sighed and said “All right, Hazel… We’ll go,”.
Hazel’s eyes widened, and she felt tears run down her cheeks. A smile came to her face, and she rushed forward to hug her friend, muttering “Thank you,” repeatedly.
“We’ll go to look, Hazel. We’ll decide what to do from there,” Alma’s tone made Hazel think that she had already made up her mind, and that she had decided to help out the village.
Eliza groaned in anger, “Your goodwill is going to get us all killed,”.
Their destination set, the group decided to turn in for the night. While the trip may be short, they were not likely to be in for an easy day if the goal was to save a village from destruction.
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Glug
Glug
Glug
Tabitha let out harsh exhalation as she pulled the wine bottle from her lips. A grateful innkeeper had gifted it to her as thanks for the protection she’d offered the village. It was good. Certainly of a much higher quality than one would have expected out of such a meager village. But, in truth, Tabitha was most grateful for its potency. The intoxication was a welcome thing.
For four days, this village had been under siege from the living dead. For four days, Tabitha had stood at the forefront, vanquishing the fiends and protecting the innocents. And on each of those four days, as she stood, alone save for the few villagers bold enough to take up a scythe or pitchfork, she had shivered and shaken in fear. Swirling the red liquid around in its bottle, she chuckled lightly, recalling how a young girl had remarked how incredibly brave she must be, to fight such monsters, when, in reality, Tabitha had actually shit herself in terror. Even as the girl was speaking of her bravery, The seat of Tabitha’s trousers were bulging and browned. She was quite grateful that her coat hung well passed her rear, hiding her shame. Similarly, she was grateful that the undead had such a powerful odor about them, as her own odor was completely masked by it.
At long last, she was given something alcoholic. Something she prayed would grant her enough courage to face the undead without her body going numb. She was undecided if she felt it was comforting or not that she was far from the only one to lose control of themselves in these skirmishes. Every night, the dead attacked, and every night, most every man and woman who was courageous enough to stand by her side became paralyzed with fear at the sight of undead horde. The ones who survived almost always went home in wet and soiled clothing.
“Soiled clothing...” She thought, You would be hard pressed to find trousers more heavily soiled than the ones I’m wearing. Numerous accidents had left her dark green pants mildly discolored down the inner thighs. Though her long, brown leather coat hid her rear from sight, she knew the seat of her pants had turned brown. At least her boots had been spared most of the damage. A dark green doublet covered her ample chest, though with all the cuts, rips, and tears it had sustained in the fighting, Tabitha figured it wouldn’t be terribly long until the garment disintegrated off of her. She was caucasian, though much tanner than most from her time in the sun. Bright, reddish-orange hair hung perfectly straight from her head, down to her shoulders. As was tradition amongst monster, witch, and demon hunters, a wide-brimmed hat sat upon her head like a crown.
She looked up to the sky. It was dark. Very dark. They’d be here soon. The thought filled her with dread. She lifted the bottle up to her lips once more. Her drinking was interrupted by shouting. Setting the bottle down, Tabitha quickly patted herself down, ensuring she had all of her equipment, then sprinted towards the source of the noise.
“Emily!” The voice of a worried woman split the night. “Emily!” Tabitha could see her, now. A simply dressed woman was running around the village, calling for her daughter. Her face was a mask of unparalleled worry. Upon spotting Tabitha, the woman rushed towards her. She clasped her hands together, and, despite being out of breath, spoke quickly and clearly, “Madame Tabitha, please, have you seen Emily?!”
“Calm down,” Tabitha began.
“Please, just please tell me if you’ve seen her, I can’t find her anywhe-”
“Calm down,” She repeated, “Breathe,”.
“Of course, of course, I’m sorry...” The mother took a few deep breaths. “But… it’s almost time...”
“Emily’s a clever one,” Tabitha remembered Emily. The woman had kept her company during her days here. “I’m sure she’s safe, wherever she is,”.
“I know that, but… Can’t you please help me search for her?”
Tabitha suppressed a groan of annoyance. Since she arrived, she’d had to play mother for everyone here. While it filled her with a sense of pride and accomplishment, she was growing very tired, and with the attack about to commence, there was no way she could spare the time to help search for someone.
Not wanting to upset the woman even further, Tabitha spoke softly, “I’m sorry, miss, but-”
“THEY’RE HERE,” Someone screamed.
Tabitha felt her body go rigid. Time was up. Emily’s mother had gone very pale. The two of them turned towards the largely ruined eastern end of the village. Sure enough, several villagers were fleeing for their lives, a nightmarish undead horde advancing behind them. Tabitha heard a splattering sound, and worried briefly that her bladder had already failed her. She pat her crotch lightly, and was satisfied to feel no wetness. Turning towards Emily’s mother, Tabitha saw that she had not been so lucky. The front of her blue skirt hosted a large, uneven wet patch that was steadily growing, while large drops and streams of urine fell from between her legs, splashing heavily on the ground. A foul smell in the air indicated she had lost control of her bowels, as well. She was petrified with fear of the oncoming horde. Tabitha grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her viciously.
“Get to the town hall! Do you hear me?!” Tabitha’s shouting had no effect. The witch hunter raised her hand, and delivered a powerful smack to her cheek. That seemed to wake her up. “Get to the town hall, barricade the doors, and grab whatever you can use as a weapon!” The woman only nodded, so Tabitha gave her a little shove, “Go!”. So far, the town hall had served as a small fortress during these attacks. Anyone not taking part in the defense gathered in there for protection. Tabitha hoped it could hold for another night.
Looking back to the battle, Tabitha swore as she saw it had begun without to head the defense. Precious few villagers, surely no more than twelve of them, armed with weaponized farming tools or kitchen utensils were already engaged with the undead at the head of the pack. Tabitha drew her weapon- a masterfully made saber, forged with silver and heavily consecrated. It was a weapon made to slay the unholy by the thousands. She took a deep, deep breath, then charged into battle, sword held high.
Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the battle. She had a talent for doing so. She quickly counted that four of the villagers were in dire need of help. Almost immediately, she decided upon the order to aid each of them, before she charged into the bulk of the undead to draw their attention. This was the way the fighting had gone every night.
Firstly, a man and his wife had been driven back by a number of undead. Their backs were against the wall fo a ruined building, now. Tabitha sprinted towards them, as fast as she was able. A cluster of ghouls was surrounding them, and they had only pitchforks to defend themselves. A sheath of wetness was running down the man’s left leg, and a little down the right. As Tabitha arrived, she delivered a mighty horizontal slash into the group of ghouls. Like a hot knife through butter, her saber flew through them, casting ash and cinder into the air as the holy blade vaporized them where it touched them. She had slain at least six of them with a single strike. With a series of expert stabs and slashes, Tabitha dispatched the remaining ghouls as the young couple used their pitchforks to slay newly arriving ghouls.
“T-thank you, Tabitha!” The man said, real gratitude in his voice. She gave a curt nod in reply.
With the undead that were advancing upon the couple now after her, she ran for the next target. A middle-aged man wielding a woodcutter’s axe was felling ghoul after ghoul, while three children huddled behind him. He was slowly being surrounded, though, and it would not be long until he was overwhelmed. Much like she did with the couple, Tabitha ran up and cleaved several undead apart at once. She could see a wicked smile break upon the old man’s face as he and Tabitha began slicing the ghouls apart side-by-side. Once they were clear, she shouted to him, “Get the kids to the town hall!”
“I was trying to! Thanks for the save!” He gave the kids a shove to get them moving as he ushered them to the safehouse. She was relieved they were unharmed.
Third on the list, the town had a skilled hunter who was very adept with a bow. He was standing atop the roof a ruined building, trying to shoot the more dangerous of the undead before they reached the other defenders. But it seemed the undead had caught on to this strategy, as now crawler ghouls were scaling the wall of the building, and would soon be upon him. Sheathing her sword, Tabitha stood in front of the wall of the building. She coiled her legs, then jumped as high as she could, her fingertips just barely able to catch the edge of the roof. Straining her muscles horribly, she pulled and pulled, until she finally was able to climb onto the rooftop.
And just in time, as a crawler lunged onto the hunter, pinning him to the ground. It howled as it beat him furiously, and Tabitha could hear him screaming. She prayed she wasn’t too slow. She drove her blade into the crawler’s side, the holy blade killing it instantly. Kicking off the rooftop, she offered a hand to the hunter, who rose shakily to his feet, his face bruised. He was battered, but not severely injured. His courage was beginning to fail, if the large, lumpy mound in his pants was any indication, and Tabitha worried that he might retreat if he became too terrified. They needed his support. She patted him on the back, “Good work so far. Are you all right?”
“Y-yeah, I think so...” He was clearly very dazed.
“Just keep shooting, we’ve almost fought them off,”
Without another word, she leapt from the rooftop, into the middle of the horde. With a spinning slash, she chopped every ghoul around her into two, before advancing forward while continuing to cut down every ghoul before her. Once she cut her way out of the horde, she spotted the final person who needed assistance.
A woman, wearing trousers and wielding a shortsword (both apparently oddities in this village, though they were in no position to complain) was dueling with a powerful undead man. Unlike the ghouls, he was not slow and cumbersome, and he wielded a longsword. Tabitha knew she would be in trouble if she were forced to parry his attacks with her own sword. As powerful as her blade was, it was meant for laying the dead back to rest, not for sword-to-sword combat. Evidently, neither was the woman’s shortsword, as she was being driven back by his merciless onslaught.
Tabitha took a roundabout path to them, hoping to stab the undead man from behind. Just before she could strike, the man whirled about, as though told of her attack, and swung his sword at her. She jumped away at the last second. Behind him, the woman with shortsword took the opportunity to begin stabbing and cutting him as much as possible. Once again, he whirled around, swinging his sword at her neck. With a scream of fear, the woman ducked, narrowly dodging the huge attack. Even over the cacophonous sounds of combat, Tabitha could hear a loud PLBRTPLBRTPLBRT as the woman’s fear caused her to empty her bowels into her trousers, the seat of which rapidly darkened and tented outwards.
Though this attack nearly cost the woman her life, it was an amazing stroke of luck for Tabitha, as the undead man had lodged his blade within a wall, and now struggled to pull it free. Wasting no time, Tabitha swung her saber, and severed the undead man’s head. The body fell to the ground.
Tabitha helped the woman to her feet, and she struggled to catch her breath. After a few seconds, she reached a hand to her backside, and silently swore when she felt the large release resting there.
“It’s almost over, just keep fighting!” Tabitha said, the woman, still out of breath, nodded enthusiastically in reply.
Tabitha’s words of encouragement were not false, either. The horde was mostly destroyed, now. Tabitha ran into the bulk of the undead once more, slicing through them as they were mere weeds. As each of the defenders were galvanized by her display, they pushed the horde back, until they stood beside her, and routed the rest of the fiends.
As the young couple from earlier cooperatively drove a pitchfork into the last ghoul, the defenders began to cheer and celebrate, for they had survived another night. Tabitha, though more exhausted than she had ever been, found it difficult not to get swept up in the mood; after all, she had ended the battle without pissing or shitting her pants.
The impromptu militia gathered around Tabitha, cheering for her. She would humbly suggested that it was a collective effort, and that she didn’t deserve all the praise, but there was no air left in her lungs to do so. So, she settled for just smiling while she panted furiously.
Curiously, she noticed that her breaths were creating thick clouds of steam in the air. Seconds later, a terrible chill struck her, freezing her to the bones. Looking around, she was not the only one- the celebration ended before it could begin, as the militia now looked around in barely-contained panic.
Looking into the forest, Tabitha saw it:
A huge, twisted creature was peering at them from deep into the woods. It was shaped somewhat like a human, though its very large, feathery wings and oddly bent legs were evidence enough that it was not one. Just looking at it, Tabitha could feel her heart stop. And not start again. Panic seized her, and she averted her eyes from the creature, and pounded on her own chest. Her relief when she felt her heart begin pumping once more was immense.
The creature raised a hand, and from the ground in front of it, a monstrous hand burst forth. Pulling itself further above ground, an absolutely grotesque monstrosity, seemingly an amalgamation of dozens of ghouls now stood before them. The winged creature that summoned it vanished into the shadows of the trees, and the colossal ghoul then lumbered towards the village.
It was monstrous in its proportions. It’s body was muscled to almost comical proportions, and its arms were so long that it dragged them along the ground.
“What do we do?” Someone behind Tabitha asked.
“What do we do?!”
Psssssssss…
Tabitha could feel the liquid courage she drank earlier draining out of her, now. Her groin had turned hot and wet, and the front of her pants now bore a sizeable wet stain. She pressed her thighs together, clamping down as hard as possible. As the monstrosity drew closer, Tabitha felt as though the earth were shaking with every step it took.
Pssssssssss…
She unwillingly released more of her urine into her own pants. With her legs pressed so tightly together, the urine travelled across the front of her legs, staining the green fabric a darker green as little trails wound every which-way down her toned thighs. Once again, she forced herself to clamp down, and stopped further leaking.
“Tabitha, what do we-”
The man’s desperate question was interrupted when the colossal ghoul let loose an ear-rending roar, causing everyone to cover their ears in pain. Knowing any hope for at least semi-dry pants was gone, Tabitha stopped holding on, and fully emptied her bladder into her panties and trousers. The green fabric was flooded immediately as her water poured into them, the streams falling into a puddle below her. The insides and front of her pants were completely soaked through with piss.
The monster, through great effort, raised its arm into the air, preparing to slam it down onto Tabitha. The milities scattered, but Tabitha could not move. As she saw the arm descend, bringing certain death, she was suddenly pulled away. Coming to her senses, she saw the shortsword woman had pulled her out of the way at the last second.
“Come on! It’s almost over, Tabitha!” She said, lifting the witch hunter to her feet. Tabitha looked at her saviour. The woman’s pants also had huge dark streaks down her legs. It looked as though Tabitha wasn’t the only one to wet themselves at the sight of the creature. Inspired by the woman’s actions, Tabitha nodded, then readied her sword.
The monster swiped its gigantic hand across the ground, and the two women barely jumped out of the way. As they struggled to rise to their feet, the monster came close, preparing to crush them both. It raised its goliath fists, then stumbled backwards suddenly, roaring in rage as an arrow pierced its eye. Tabitha looked in disbelief as the hunter still stood on the rooftop, furiously firing arrow after arrow into the beast. He had bought her quite a window of opportunity.
She ran forward, ignoring the drops of piss slinging everywhere as she did so, swung her blade into the monster’s leg. Much like the ghouls, it flew through it, as though there was no resistance. It continued its agonized roaring, and Tabitha continued slicing, until she had fully severed the beasts leg. It fell forward, resting on its belly and holding itself up with its arms. If this thing was at all like other undead, then destroying its head should finish it off. This in mind, Tabitha ran around it, attempting to reach the monster’s front. The hunter continued to distract it, and the colossal ghoul was trying, in vain, to swat him.
Arriving at the beast’s front, Tabitha began to carve out a hole in its gargantuan chest. Its head was too high up for her to reach, and she decided that any damage was better than waiting for the head to come into range. Remarkably quickly, the monster’s attention shifted from the hunter to her, and moved its massive hand to grab her. Tabitha noticed all too late, and was lifted into the air as though she were weightless. The beast squeezed her tightly, and the strain caused her to drop her sword, which fell to the ground below her.
The ghoul opened its mouth, and prepared to devour her. She struggled hard against its grip, but it was pointless. She closed her eyes and turned away in fright. As she did so, her bowels voided with a noisy BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAP. The release was warm and wet, and she could feel it smearing across her rear and collecting in the space between her legs. The semi-solid mush escaped the cuffs of her panties, and numerous brown trails slid down the back of her legs, staining her pants. A foul squishing sound continually emanated from the witch hunter as she continued to soil herself.
And then, she was falling. She landed on the ground with a rough thud, and looked at the beast. The woman with the shortsword had taken up Tabitha’s saber, and cut off the arms it was holding her with. In pain, the beast fell to the ground, unable to support itself with only one arm. The woman threw Tabitha her sword, and in one fluid motion, Tabitha plunged the sword into the colossal ghoul’s head. It’s roaring was silenced quickly as the unholy life drained from it.
All was quiet for a time, as everyone caught their breath and awaited for further surprises.
But there were none.
The quiet was eventually shattered when a woman shouted “She’s killed it! She’s killed the monster!!”
“The monster’s dead!”
“Tabitha killed the bastard!”
All around, the townspeople had emerged from the town hall, and they and the militia were cheering and celebrating as though there were no tomorrow. Tabitha was much too exhausted to even try and disguise her accidents, but the people hardly even seemed to notice. Truth be told, after the strange creature had summoned the giant ghoul, it looked as though half the people hiding in the town hall soiled themselves, as well.
While the people were celebrating, Tabitha approached the woman who had saved her. The two talked for a time, both of them insisting that their own heroics were nothing, and that the other was the true hero. After a time, both of them shook hands and departed to wash themselves, and then sleep.
Every part of Tabitha’s body ached. Every part of her lower body needed to be washed. She couldn’t remember ever being so completely mentally and physically exhausted. She left the people to their festivities. After all, if the undead were going to continue bringing in stronger and stronger creatures, they might not have too much time left to celebrate.
She said a long prayer before she went to sleep, begging and pleading for the ones who slew the shapeshifting demon to find this village. They were dead men and women if help didn't arrive soon.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Sorry it's a little bit late. Happy birthday!
I think this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, and it might have a little less omo content, but it's leading into a big chapter. Given the support it received last time, there is a bit of male omo (wetting and messing), but it's still mostly female. And, in case anyone was wondering, the male character featured here likely will not become a permanent member of the cast. Tabitha will, though.
Hope you all enjoy!
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Through her eyes, it watched.
Through her ears, it listened.
Through her hands, it felt.
She had seen it. Laid her eyes upon it, and not perished. She, sword held high, challenged and vanquished the great beast it had set upon her.
She had seen it, and yet, the madness did not take root immediately. Her heart did not burst, as so many others had. But the demon could sense it, the festering seed had been planted inside of her mind, and soon its walls would collapse, and the demon could feed on her insanity.
It was perfectly content to feast slowly.
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Tabitha jolted awake, panting heavily. Sweat covered her body, despite the chill of the room. Her rest had been plagued with nightmares that shook her to her core. Nightmares were common among the more junior practitioners of witch hunting, but she had not been so unfortunate as to suffer from them for many years, now. And even so, this one was… different. Nondescript. That was the only she could think to describe it. Voices just at the edge of hearing, and flickers of movement just at the ends of her vision. The harder she listened and stared, the less comprehensible the things around her became.
It was… nothing. There were no terrifying monsters; no accusatory shouts; no bad memories. Just… things too far away to be seen or heard.
So why did it fill her with so much anxiety and terror? Her heart beat both fast and erratic, feeling as though, at any moment, it could beat so rapidly as to burst through her ribs, or to simply stop beating entirely. She steadied her breathing, rubbed her temples, closed her eyes and took as deep a breath as she could, until her body had settled down.
Once her senses had fully returned, she wondered to herself just how much she had pissed the bed during the nightmare. After the events of the previous night, she had finally decided to trade her clothes out and have hers be washed. The townspeople were more than happy to supply her with a (mostly) clean ensemble in the meantime, although it turned out to be a struggle to find clean trousers amongst the townspeople. Doubly so for panties. Tabitha threw the blanket aside, preparing for the worst.
While her bladder had, indeed, emptied its contents into her white underwear, she was pleasantly surprised to see that her wetting during the battle had left her with very little urine to stain her new panties. Well, as “pleasantly surprised” as one can be to recall such a thing. The fabric around her groin was wet, but the stain did not spread much further. As relieved as she was not to have a total accident on her hands, she cringed, knowing that she would stuck in these panties for the rest of the day.
Deciding that the best course of action was to ignore the dampened state of her underwear, she rose from her bed, and got dressed. She had elected to only borrow panties and trousers from the villagers, not wishing to take too much of their already dwindling supplies. Her hat, coat, and doublet all remained the same, but now black pants adorned her legs. She remembered a lecture her old mentor had given her, half-joking and half-serious, about how witch hunters always wore black trousers to hide their accidents.
Once she was dressed and had her equipment, she left the inn, in which the owner was allowing her to stay, free of charge; as thanks for her efforts in defending them. Every step was courteous enough to remind her of the wetness between her legs, but she had long since learned not to let such discomfort show.
The villagers were rebuilding and preparing for the next onslaught as best they could, but resources, morale, and, most importantly, time were all on short supply. Even with her there, they could only withstand one or two more of these attacks. None, if that strange demon reappeared.
A spike of panic shot through her as she recalled the winged demon. The sudden fear, the way it caused her body to falter, Tabitha was certain it was unnatural. Perhaps some manner of cognitohazard, a curse that harms or kills simply by observing, or even remembering the thing carrying it. But only a monstrously powerful demon would be able to create such a curse. And demons were not her prey.
Tabitha’s vocation had always been witch hunting. Always would be. In all her life, the only type of cognitohazard she’d ever seen was a witch’s amulet that paralyzed any who looked upon the wearer. But it was a weak curse, and of all her peers, Tabitha was easily the most skilled at repelling curses, hexes, and spells. With a quick dispel, the amulet’s effect was nullified on her, and she was able to slay the witch. Conversely, James and Madeleine, her partners, were struck by the curse, and both completely motionless for a full day. By the time they were free, both of them had been unable to keep their hold on their bladder or bowels, and both needed a change of pants. They received no small amount of teasing from Tabitha about it.
Indeed, she was well and truly out of her depth, here. She would need someone versed in demon killing to stand a chance.
“Emily!” Came a familiar, worried voice. Emily’s mother was again searching for her lost daughter. Though now, Tabitha shared in the mother’s worry. Had Emily still not returned? That was bad. The village only had one tracker, the bowman who was pounced by a crawler, and Tabitha had already sent him to look for the woman. If she truly was still in the wilderness during the attack…
God help her.
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Hazel, Alma, and Eliza were all visibly on edge as they approached the village. A broken sign on the outskirts bore the name “Hadens-” the rest of the name was visible on a piece of the sign that had been broken off, “-brook”. The village itself was, to put it generously, in shambles. Several buildings were heavily damaged, some were even completely destroyed. The group walked further in, fully entering the town, and its sorry state was made clear for them. Near to half the town was in absolute ruins. Those ruins were utterly saturated in old, drying blood, and tatters of clothes, discarded weapons, and other detritus littered the area.
Each of them tensed when the first person came into view. None of them had forgotten the last “friendly face” they met. Hazel felt an odd sort of assurance from this place. It was making no attempt to hide its disrepair and ruin. There was no attempt to deceive them. As odd as it was to be happy that half of the village you were visiting had been reduced to rubble, Hazel couldn’t help but breathe a bit easier.
“Pardon me...” Came a woman’s voice, catching each of them off guard.
They each whirled around to see a woman, dressed much like Alma, in the garb of a hunter, approaching them. Though she wasn’t showing any hostility, the stranger very clearly had her hand resting on her sheathed sword, clearly as anxious about this meeting as they were. “My name is Tabitha. I’ve been protecting this place.” She ran her eyes over them, carefully studying each of them. She stopped when she reached Eliza, and glared at her sharply. “May I ask, are you the ones responsible for killing the shapeshifter that had been haunting the road?”
“We are,” Alma answered, “This one, specifically,” she pointed to Eliza.
She took a moment to consider this, before replying “Well done,” Tabitha continued to glare at Eliza, and Hazel could tell that Eliza was shrinking away under her gaze.
“So...” Hazel began, “we were told that your village was being attacked?”
“What gave it away?” Tabitha said with a chuckle, motioning to the ruins around her. “Yes. Hadensbrook has been besieged by the undead every night for some time, now.”
“Well, Tabitha, we’re here to help however we can,” Alma said.
Tabitha looked sadly at Alma’s broken arm, clearly upset that her reinforcements were not as formidable as she’d hoped. She closed her eyes and nodded, “Thank you. Please follow me, we have a few things to go over.” She led them towards what appeared to be a town hall.
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“An incredibly powerful demon is behind the attacks, you say?” Alma intoned. Hazel noticed that at almost every mention of the winged demon, Tabitha seemed to shudder slightly.
“Y-yes. Whatever it was, it was the the most powerful creature I’ve ever seen...” Another shudder.
“Alma,” Hazel looked to her friend, and could see in her eyes that Alma was having the same thought as her, “Do you think it could be the same one that’s destroyed Arnwick?”
This suggestion caught Tabitha’s attention. Alma simply nodded, “I do, Hazy. Or, if not, it’s almost certainly connected.”
“You three slew the shapeshifter,” Tabitha said with some admiration, “I was hoping you’d be able to slay this demon, too. I will assist you, of course.”
The three of them were quiet for a long moment, until Alma spoke, “By no means will this be simple or easy...”
“It never was,” Tabitha replied.
Once again the room fell into silence as everyone considered the situation. Tabitha was looking at them with waning hope. Alma was deep in concentration. Curiously, Eliza seemed especially reserved. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and she was looking towards the floor. Hazel could swear she saw a few drops of sweat on her forehead. Hazel could hardly fault them for the somber mood in the room. They were expecting a powerful enemy, but not one that could materialize a legion of the dead with a flick of its wrist. Certainly not one that stopped your heart if you so much as looked at it. Apprehension was only natural.
“Alma,” Hazel’s voice was as encouraging as she could make it, “We finally know what caused all of this. We’re not going to just...”
“Give up?” Alma finished, “No, Hazy. We’re not. But this might be more than we can handle. Evacuating the village may be the only solution.”
Tabitha sadly shook her head, “I’d considered that, but we’d just be attacked by the undead in the woods. The buildings make for good fortifications and safehouses. If we just walk all these people into the monster’s domain… It would be a slaughter,”
“M-might be a way...” Eliza’s quiet, shaky voice was barely audible.
“What did you say Eliza?” Hazel asked.
“T-there might be something I can do...” Eliza was shrinking further and further under Tabitha’s gaze.
“What can you do?” Tabitha asked, just a bit too harshly.
“I’d need to s-see it… the winged demon,” Her answer caused Tabitha’s eyes to widen at the thought of facing it again.
“Was my description of my own heart stopping inadequate?”
“Y-yes...” Hazel felt sorry for the poor woman. Whatever animosity existed between Eliza and Tabitha, it clearly had Eliza about to wet herself. “I need to see it… experience it. Then I think I can counteract it.”
“We’d never get close, otherwise,” Alma concluded.
“We’ll need some sort of plan, then,” Tabitha said. She seemed a bit more lively, now. Perhaps even such a vague assurance of the possibility of victory was enough to galvanize her.
The four of them began to discuss the plan of attack. As much as it pained them, they had to admit that Alma was going to be nearly useless in the conflict, with her shattered arm. She proposed that she stay behind, and help train the villagers to defend themselves. Very few of them were at all able to fight, and they would need every able-bodied adult to assist in the next attack. Hazel and Eliza would go with Tabitha to search for the winged demon, despite how uncomfortable it made Eliza and Tabitha to be in each other’s company. With any luck, the bowman would return before they departed, and could help them track the demon down.
Their plan was simple, but it was something. Once it was set, everyone set about preparing for the eventful night. Hazel was quickly pulled aside by Tabitha, though.
“Your companion, Eliza, is her name, yes?”
“Yes, what about her?” Hazel was quite curious to know why the two seemed to dislike each other.
“Are you aware that Eliza is a dangerous witch?”
Oh. Oh dear. “Hardly dangerous. Not to us, at least.”
“No such thing as a witch that isn’t dangerous, Hazel. And I am not happy about the fact that she will be joining us. The first chance she has, I promise you that she’ll slip a knife into your neck.”
Hazel was offended at Tabitha’s words, and rushed to defend her friend, “She’s had a number of chances already, Tabitha. And every time, she came to our rescue. She’s saved both of our lives several times, and she’s pledged to help us kill the demon.”
Tabitha’s dissatisfaction was etched into her face, “I will trust you, Hazel. But if she betrays us, I will put her down.”
Hazel was suddenly questioning her decision to assist the town. Through gritted teeth, she said, “We really should finish preparing.”
“Of course. Be ready in a couple of hours,” Tabitha turned about, and walked away.
“T-thanks...” Eliza said, quietly, surprising Hazel. Eliza was very good at keeping out of sight.
Hazel felt herself blush knowing that Eliza had heard what was said, though as she faced her friend, she could see that Eliza was blushing far more intensely. “Oh! Eliza! I didn’t know-”
“She’s a witch hunter,” she interjected, “And a good one, at that.”
“How could you tell?”
“When she greeted us, I could feel that I was being suppressed. She was using some trick to keep my charms from working. Only skilled witch hunters can do something like that.”
Hazel silently regarded her friend for a bit, until Eliza spoke again, “I… I won’t betray you… You know that, yes?” Eliza actually briefly looked Hazel in the eyes, a rarity from the shy witch. Hazel could sense the honesty in her words.
“I know, Eliza. I trust you,”
The young witch smiled, “Thank you, H-hazy,” She stumbled a bit as she called her by her nickname for the first time. Before Hazel could respond, Eliza quickly added, “I-I need to go prepare some potions and charms,” before hurrying off.
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How does Alma carry this contraption around all the time?! Hazel wondered, feeling the pain in her arms from carrying around the heavy crossbow. She couldn’t put the weapon away, because the undead could attack at any moment, now that they were in the forest once again. Walking right beside her, Eliza seemed to be growing tired, as well.
Matthew, the bowman Tabitha mentioned, had actually returned from some sort of hunt, though apparently empty-handed, much to Tabitha’s dismay. He was a fairly young man, roughly the same age as Hazel, with short black hair. She couldn’t help but notice that, despite his obvious skill at traversing the wilds, he and Tabitha both were extremely anxious. Whatever things they had seen, they clearly were not eager to see them again.
But, in all honesty, this stretch of forest felt just like the rest to Hazel: foreboding, haunted, and deadly.
Matthew came to a sudden stop, and signaled for them to do the same. He was listening for something. Hazel looked around herself, unsure of what she was supposed to be hearing. In a flurry of motion, Matthew spun around, bow and arrow ready, before pulling the string and loosing the shot into the brush. A wet thwack was heard, and Hazel approached it very slowly. Parting the plants, she saw a thin, heavily rotted corpse with an arrow now jutting from its skull.
Hazel had never seen, nor smelled an undead before, and she stumbled backwards, gagging heavily. Eliza caught her before she fell down.
“Lightweight,” Matthew teased.
“Isn’t that the same kind of creature that made you soil your trousers to the brim, last night?” Tabitha teased right back.
“... Fair enough” He conceded.
Eliza helped steady Hazel as she walked for a moment, as she still felt sick from seeing the thing. If that was what she could expect to be facing, she felt certain there was no way she was getting through this without throwing her guts up.
The group continued on their path, having to stop every so often while Matthew attempted to ascertain where to go next. As skilled a hunter as he was, Hazel suspected that hunting a greater demon was something he was rather unaccustomed to.
Tabitha gave a short gasp, catching Hazel’s attention, “What’s wrong?”
“We are close,” Tabitha replied, “I can sense them.”
“How?”
“My sword, it… tells me, so to speak.”
“I see,” Hazel did not see.
“There are enemies ahead. Several of them. Ready your arms, everyone.”
Hazel ensured the crossbow was loaded, and that her spare bolts were within reach. She had a knife on her belt, as well. Eliza was carrying a wide variety of potions and other vials, and similarly had a knife. Matthew’s bow was already raised and ready. Tabitha’s strange sword almost seemed to heat up the air around it as she drew it from its sheath. It was an impressive weapon, to be sure.
They came upon a cliff face that rose a good ways into air above them. Tabitha had taken the lead of the group, apparently being guided by her sword’s “senses”. She lead them to a large cave opening. A fetid odor issued from inside, making Hazel suppress the urge to retch. It was the stench of death.
Tabitha took a deep breath, clutched her sword tightly, and entered the cave. With no small amount of hesitation, the others followed.
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It watched with glee as she led them into the forest- into its home.
It took interest in the young witch. A lost little sheep, being led by an unwitting shepherd.
It would have her, or it would end her.
Not much further…
They just needed a little push.
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The inside of the cave was a horrific display that Hazel would remember as long as she lived. Bodies, some looking only days old, some decayed down to skeletons with only ragged clumps of flesh, hung from the walls, or sat in heaps and piles around the cave. Cages and twisted tools of torture littered the area alongside them. Ungodly sigils and glyphs were etched into the walls, the tools, and even some of the bodies.
Hazel insides felt like they were spinning as she began gagging once more. Eliza had managed to keep from getting sick, but she was clearly unsettled, and had gone pale. Despite their earlier posturing, even Tabitha and Matthew had been disturbed by their surroundings.
“Stay close. Do not stray far,” Tabitha ordered. No one else felt like speaking, if they even could.
The pain in Hazel’s arms and legs had been replaced by near numbness. She’d been afraid before. She’d been in danger before. Yet, try as she might, she could not recall a single time or place that screamed “You will die here” louder than this Godforsaken cave. Once again, the crossbow’s rattling betrayed her fear. She took several steps closer to Eliza, who only gave her a sidelong glance. Normally, she wouldn’t allow anyone to get so close to her.
Ahead of them, Matthew crouched to inspect an old skeleton with an unholy symbol carved into its skull. As he reached his hand towards it, before even touching it, the skull popped off and clattered loudly to the ground. The mark on its forehead lit up with a fierce orange glow, and Hazel heard rattling around them.
From a nearby corpse pile, a skeletal hand burst forth, and pulled its owner from the depths of the pile. It was heavily decayed, only bone left in some places. All around them, similar ghouls were waking from the dead. Most of them had weapons, swords and bows, mostly.
The partial numbness Hazel had felt was replaced by total numbness. She shook with fear, and felt tears forming in her eyes. A sensation broke through the numbness: a warm feeling on her legs. Her bladder failed completely, and was violently soaking her legs and pants in her own piss. The stream was fast, and the fabric between her legs was quickly saturated. She could barely even feel her accident, as her attention was still seized by the danger she was in; to her, she could just feel a warm sensation covering the inside of her legs.
Tabitha quickly dispatched a few ghouls with her blade, and turned to look at Hazel. She must have seen that Hazel was paralyzed and wet with fear, for she ran towards her and decapitated a ghoul who was primed to strike the frightened merchant. Continuing to defend her, Tabitha circled around and fought an enemy behind her. Hazel’s eyes wandered around the battle before her. Matthew was dodging left and right, firing arrow after arrow as he did. Tabitha was fighting ghouls behind her. Eliza…
Eliza!!
Eliza was slinging one of vials, spewing its contents onto a small group of ghouls. It burned them, and seemed to kill them as they crumbled to the ground. She struggled to grab another, and more and more ghouls were approaching the young witch.
“I know that you’re very brave, even if you don’t,” Alma’s words echoed in her mind, breaking through the terrified fog that otherwise filled it. Hazel swallowed, and took a deep, deep breath. Trying to match the stance Alma had shown her, Hazel lifted up the crossbow, and took aim into the cluster forming around Eliza. She fired, and smiled broadly as the silver bolt passed clean through the first ghoul and into a second, killing both. Some of the cluster turned to face her, exactly as she’d hoped.
Except…
She didn’t know what to do from there. She struggled with reloading the crossbow, especially under pressure, so the first shot was very likely to be the last. She had a silver knife, but… Looking into the swinging claws and gaping mouths of the ghouls, she felt a familiar warmth around her groin as her bladder leaked whatever urine was left in her. She was much too afraid to do something like that.
But, much like the first group to attack Eliza, this one suddenly howled and groaned in pain, then collapsed. Dead. Eliza stood there, clutching an empty vial. Hazel had bought her enough time, it seemed. With the two of them secure, the fight largely evolved into Tabitha and Matthew slaying the bulk of the undead while Hazel and Eliza provided support and picked off stragglers. After several agonizing minutes that felt more like hours to Hazel, it was over, and no more of the dead stirred.
Everyone was panting heavily, there was no other noise, until Tabitha spoke, “Everyone… All right?”
“I’m good,” Matthew said.
“Not hurt,” Hazel said, her hands resting over her soaked crotch. She knew it wouldn’t divert attention away from it, but she couldn’t help but try to cover her accident.
“F-fine,” Eliza choked out quickly.
“Good,” Tabitha continued, picking up her sword, “We still have work to do. The presence I felt is still here.”
Hazel was almost hoping Tabitha would order a retreat so they could return with reinforcements, but she knew they couldn’t leave until their task was finished. Once everyone had caught their breath, they continued, deeper into the nightmarish cave.
As they walked, Eliza was quietly observing the many symbols covering the walls. After some time, she leaned in to whisper to Hazel, making sure that Tabitha could not hear, “I know these symbols. They’re all necromantic in origin.”
“Necromantic?”
“I think this is where they’ve been making all the ghouls, the winged demon may not be the one creating them.”
“We should tell Tabitha,” Hazel quicked her pace for a split second before Eliza gripped her shoulder.
“I don’t want to...” Eliza said, looking at the ground.
“Why not?”
“She’s a fool. She’ll just use it as evidence that I’m with the people doing this.”
“Eliza, I won’t let her hurt you, you know.”
“... I know.”
“So let’s tell her; this is important. I can do it, if you want,” Hazel gave the witch a caring look.
“... Please do.”
Hazel quicked her step once more, catching up with Tabitha, who turned to look at her. “Er, Ms. Tabitha?”
“Yes?” The witch hunter had an oddly patient tone to her voice.
“Eliza was analyzing the… symbols present in this cave, and...” She trailed off for a moment as she noticed Tabitha’s expression souring at the mention of the witch, “... And she believes this may be the place where the ghouls attacking your village are being made. The winged demon might not be the one doing it.”
“I saw the winged demon do it,” Almost immediately, her patience had worn thin. This creature must have truly, truly traumatized her.
“You s-saw it raise a single, colossal ghoul...” Eliza cut in, and she gasped sharply as Tabitha’s eyes jumped to her.
“Would it not be reasonable to assume it can raise others, as well?”
“W-well, yes, it may be able to, but...”
“Then your theory is just a potential complication we can do without.”
Eliza just exhaled in exasperation, and looked downwards. Hazel slowed down and regrouped with her friend.
Only a short couple of minutes later, they came upon a large, sealed door. It was made of black stone, and stood taller than a man. Four circular indentations were present on its surface. Matthew and Tabitha set about trying to push and pry it open, but it would not budge. Hazel looked around the cave, but she could find no other paths to take. Eliza seemed lost in thought.
Tabitha and Matthew began to search for hidden mechanisms to open the door, and Eliza stepped closer to study it. She drew her knife suddenly, and stabbed it into her finger. Hazel walked up to her to see if she was okay, but the young witch quickly set to work using her bloody finger to draw some sort of shape into one of the indentations. Finishing that one, she moved on to the next, filling it with a different symbol. She did the same for the next two, wincing a bit from the pain in her finger.
A loud clicking and even louder THUNK resounded from within the door, and a seam formed vertically, down the center. It was unlocked.
“What did you do?” Hazel asked, impressed.
“The door required a kind of password. It was a simple disavowal of everything holy and fervent praise for the kings of the dead,” she said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
“Things I’m not surprised you’re familiar with,” Tabitha said as she approached the opened door. Eliza ignored the remark. Tabitha gave the doors a solid push, and they opened inwards. Hazel’s nose was again assaulted, though this time with the smell of chemicals. A heavy odor of sulfur filled the room.
The room itself was, in a way, more terrible than the rest of the cave. Black stone columns reach to the ceiling, lit torches resting in sconces around them. The fires burned more red than Hazel thought they should. Strange alchemical laboratories and large, unpleasant apparatuses lined the walls. These were not the tools of simple butchers, but of very skilled, very evil people.
Each of them readied their weapons as they explored the large chamber. A strange mist filled the room, leaving one unable to see from one end to the other. They arrived at the center of the chamber, a massive pentagram emblazoned onto the floor.
“How fortuitous...” Came a rasping man’s voice, seemingly from all around them. “Ordinarily, the ghouls are only able to bring back the scraps of talented individuals,” The speaker emerged from the mist. A tall man in a dark purple robe. It obscured every part of his actual flesh. Chains levitated around him as he glided forward.
“How I look forward to dissecting them...” Came a rasping woman’s voice. Much like the other, the speaker was completely covered in a purple robe, and chains seemed to orbit her.
Hazel and Eliza exchanged glances as the demonic woman appeared behind them. Hazel quickly swung the crossbow towards her, and fired. There was a flash of sparks as the chains whipper out, catching the bolt in the air. “Still have some fight in you…? I can’t wait to extract it,” The woman raised her hand, and a bolt of fire emerged, flying straight towards Hazel. She jumped out of the way, and watched with horror as the ground she was standing on was obliterated by hellfire. Once again, what little urine her body hadn’t already lost dribbled out of her.
She rose, and ran behind one of the pillars, using the cover for safety while she reloaded. She glanced at Eliza, and saw that she was throwing one of her vials at the woman. Like the crossbow bolt, the chains whipped out at extremely high speeds, though found that a glass vial was substantially weaker than a bolt. The vial shattered instantly, then ignited into a brilliant holy fire that momentarily illuminated the entire chamber. The demonic woman screamed in pain, then screamed out assurances of their painful deaths.
Crossbow reloaded, Hazel circled about the other side of the pillar. The woman flung a ball of hellfire at Eliza, who screamed and ran out of the way. The explosion still caught her, and flung her to the ground. While she was distracted, Hazel aimed and fired the crossbow, and the bolt embedded itself into the woman’s side. She screamed in pain once again, and spun to face Hazel.
One of the chains, its tip broken and sharp, launched forward, Hazel sidestepped as fast as she was able, but it still cut her cheek deeply, drawing quite a bit of blood. The chain shot out once more, stabbing into her left shoulder, then again into her right leg. Each cut was deep and painful enough to be debilitating, but none of them lethal. She fell onto her backside, scurrying backwards as the chain continually propelled forward, sometimes missing and sometimes hitting.
In her fear, she failed to keep her grasp on her crossbow. Tears once again welled in her eyes, and she whimpered quietly as she continued her pitiful attempts to escape. Her vision filled with spots as her head hit on something behind her. She had been backed up to the far wall of the chamber. Her legs shook and quivered. Her arms wouldn’t move. Tears streamed down her face. She looked up at the faceless demonic woman. She opened her mouth to plead for mercy, but nothing came out.
The sharp end of the chain drifted down to her neck, the knife-like edge pressing into her flesh, drawing a drop of blood. With a quiet crackle, her pants tented out suddenly. The shit was hard and pushed the seat of her panties and trousers out far. Softer mess followed it, filling up the newly created gap in her underwear. The smell of shit drifted up to her nostrils, furthering her shame.
The woman chuckled, “Yes… Release yourself… Give in to fear. It’s so much easier...”
The chain wrapped itself around her neck, and began to squeeze tightly. Her eyes began to close, certain that this was it. A bright light, like the sun, caught her attention. The demon woman was engulfed in a white fire that completely covered her. She screamed in agony, but only for a second. When the luminescent fire dissipated, most of her body was gone, and she dropped to the floor, dead. Eliza stood behind her, now with one less vial than she entered with.
The witch ran to help Hazel, and she managed to remove the chain from her neck.
Through choked sobs, Hazel said “Thank you… Thank you so much, Eliza,” as she pulled the witch into a tight hug.
The chamber was eerily quiet, and she wondered if the fight was over.
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One of the chains floating around the robed man whipped forward, catching Tabitha off guard and striking her in the belly. It sliced through her doublet and cut into her skin. He was unable to strike again as the chains were suddenly occupied blocking several arrows, courtesy of Matthew. Seizing upon the opening, Tabitha charged at the demon, who raised his hand and summoned a torrent of fire. Tabitha rolled to her right as fast as possible, but the demon man kept up with her, continuing to launch the hellish fire.
She ran, and as she passed by Matthew, he ran with her. The two of them hid behind a pillar. The massive stream of hellfire impacted the stone column, splitting it and causing it to pass by, uncomfortably close, but safely by the two hiding people. The air around them was heating up to extraordinary temperatures, and breathing became difficult. Tabitha took the moment to inspect herself for damage. Her midsection had received a nasty cut, but it was manageable. She was lightly singed all over, but not burned anywhere. Looking at her legs, her eyes drifted over to Matthew’s, and she noticed the wetness seeping into his pants. A very large stain surrounded his groin, and the streams were just reaching his knees and beginning to reach further down.
“Are you all right?” She asked. She almost had to shout to be heard over the roar of the fires.
“Wet,” He replied, “But it’s better than being on fire”
“We need a plan! Let’s try and-” All at once, the fires ended, and her speech was cut off as a chain wrapped around the column, encircling their necks as well. It pulled them hard against the stone. The shock made Tabitha lose a little bit of her own urine, as she felt her panties grow warm around her privates. The chain tightened, and her bladder released even more. The area around her crotch and inner thighs turned hot with piss. A stain, roughly the diameter of an orange had formed between her legs.
Tighter and tighter they pulled. The stain on her pants grew as she pissed more. A few small streams race down her legs, ahead of the rest of the flood. The chain pulled ever tighter, and she swore she could feel something in her break. Her bladder completely abandoned its hold, and she sprayed piss down her legs as she thrashed about. The dark stain traveled erratically down her legs, until, at last, her legs stopped kicking as she ran out of energy, and the urine spilled over her boots, making a puddle around her. Tabitha noticed a heavy weight in her abdomen, and she knew her bowels were preparing to void themselves into her underwear. She clamped down. She knew how absurd it was to try and preserve her dignity in a situation like this, but if she was about to die, she wanted that to happen after she was gone. She looked around for a solution, but it seemed there was none to be found.
The chain loosened its grip on the two for just a second, and she wondered if it was over, only for the chain to recoil from the pillar and solely encircle the pair’s necks. They were lifted into the air, and brought to face the demon man. Tabitha could could hear a faint braaaaap, followed by a loud, wet crackling sound. She wondered briefly if she had just shit herself in terror, but a quick glance at the expanding seat of Matthew’s trousers confirmed otherwise. They tented and filled out sharply and quickly as he lost control of his bowels.
“Fear… So delicious...” The demon man said. “You will serve us well,” He raised his hand, and made a fist. The chains tightened immeasurably. Both of them pried at the chain desperately, but it was hopeless. That is, until the demon man groaned in pain, and the chain released them. They fell to the ground, hard. Matthew was sprawled on his back, gasping for breath, and as eager as Tabitha was to follow this example, she gripped her sword as tightly as her numb body would, and lunged forward, burying the blade into the demon’s chest.
The last of her energy spent, she collapsed, and after a short second, the demon man did as well, holy sword jutting from his chest. She was lying on her stomach on the ground, and that weight in her abdomen made itself known once more. She could hardly have avoided shitting herself if she wanted to, so she gave a quick push, and felt the mess slide out of her easily, and come to a rest in her panties. Her body needed no instruction after the first log, and continued to pour soft mess into her pants, which now had a slowly but steadily growing bulge on the seat. Before fading into unconsciousness, she looked up and saw the witch pointing a recently-fired crossbow at them. Her last thought was that it was just her luck that the witch of all people would’ve saved her.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Happy Halloween, everyone! I figured what better way to celebrate the spookiest holiday, as well as the anniversary of this story, than with a big, juicy chapter? Hope you guys all enjoy!
Eliza watched as the demon man plummeted from the air, thanks to her timely shot from Alma’s crossbow. Tabitha and Matthew were released from the unholy chains binding them, and Tabitha seized the opportunity to thrust her sword into the fallen cultist, finally finishing him off. As he writhed and breathed his last, the flames of Tabitha’s sword engulfed him, turning his body into a veritable bonfire.
Matthew was out cold, and Tabitha had fallen to her knees, then onto her stomach. Slowly, her eyes began to close, and a large bulge began to form in the seat of her pants. Eliza’s eyes widened, and she wondered if she had been too slow. Despite their unfriendliness towards each other, she didn’t want the witch hunter to die. Hazel moved passed her, and began to investigate their unconscious comrades.
“They’re alive!” She said, causing Eliza to exhale in relief. Hazel rolled Tabitha over, so she was lying on her back, the large mess in her trousers audibly squishing. Both Hazel and Eliza cringed a little. They did so again when they rolled Matthew over with similar results. Before long, Hazel’s relief had returned to worry as they did not awaken, “Can you wake them up? Don’t you have a potion or something that can help them?”
“I can make one...” She was lying. She already had an elixir that could wake up the both of them. Honestly, they didn’t even need it; they would be fine. But she needed to speak with Hazel, in private. “Hazy, could you… come with me? I need to gather the herbs.”
“But what about them? Will they be okay in here?”
“We’ve killed everything here, and the curse on this place is broken. They’ll be fine.”
“All right, then.”
The two of them walked back through the long cave, stepping over the remnants of the ghouls that had barred their way inside. Eliza was silent the entire walk, and she clutched her staff tightly. Hazel, despite the piss soaking her pants and shit filling her panties, managed to keep pace with her, even if she was walking slightly bowlegged. Evidently, she noticed Eliza being lost in thought, asking, “Is something wrong?”
Eliza was quiet for a minute more, trying to think of how to begin, “H-Hazy… ” Her voice quivered, and she suppressed a slight sob, “T-those people we just fought… They… ” Eliza struggled hard to force the words out, but her body wasn’t listening. Tears began to fill her eyes, and, unbidden, stream down her cheeks. She covered her face with one hand, turning away from Hazel, wishing she wasn’t so damn weak. Hazel moved around, and placed her hands on Eliza’s shoulders, Eliza responded by clutching onto her friend tightly, not quite a hug, but just as meaningful. “Those… ” Eliza finally began to compose herself, and found her voice again, “Those were my parents… ”
“What?!” Hazel looked down at her in alarm, “Why didn’t you tell us?! We- We could’ve-”
“No. It had to end like that… ” As much as it hurt her, it was true. She took a step back, and wiped her eyes, “They… They’ve been gone for a long time.” Hazel just looked at her, confused, but sympathetic. “I needed to talk to you. Just you,” She didn’t trust anyone else. “Those two… A long time ago, they… did some terrible things. To me, to others, and to themselves.”
“Is that why you lived alone?” Hazel inquired, trying to start fitting the pieces together.
“Yes… ” Her voice weak, and her heart heavy as she remembered such a dark time, Eliza continued, “When I found out what they were doing, I just… ran… ” Her composure kept crumbling, and her voice grew shaky, “If I hadn’t been such a coward then… ”
“Eliza, you can’t blame yourself for things like that,” Hazel snapped back, sympathetic but firm.
“But I-” She cut herself off, and closed her mouth abruptly. Tabitha was exiting the cave with Matthew in tow. They each had an arm looped around the other, and were still unstable and close to collapsing. Not wishing to continue this conversation in front of the witch hunter, Eliza simply remarked, “Let’s just help them back to town. We’ll talk more later.”
She grabbed a hold of Matthew while Hazel assisted Tabitha. She’d managed to ignore it when she was talking to just Hazel, but now that she was in such close proximity to all three of them, the odor of urine-soaked and shit-filled pants was nearly unbearable. Tabitha barely seemed to notice or care what she’s done in her clothes, and walked with a surprising dignity and professionalism. Matthew was still wounded from the fight, and was walking awkwardly, clearly trying not to further agitate the severe mess he’d made of his trousers. Hazel had this way about her, in that she seemed to just completely forget about the state of herself while she was helping Tabitha along. Despite the wet streaks down her legs and the conspicuous bulge in the seat of her pants, she pushed herself to walk normally. Eliza admired that about her. Personally, she was mostly just happy and impressed with herself for not doing the same things in her own panties.
While she observed her companions, She felt a dagger of fear shoot through her body as she noticed Tabitha glaring menacingly at her. Eliza looked away, and down towards the ground. She had a feeling the trip back to town would be a quiet one.
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Alma raised a fork with a bite of cooked meat skewered on it to her lips. She chewed and swallowed, but the action barely constituted “eating”. There was no taste, and she was barely even aware of what she was doing. She was much too distracted thinking of Hazel and Eliza, wondering if they were okay. What was I thinking, letting them go alone? Her troubled thoughts had been filling her with worry and guilt for some time, now.
Her fork scraped against her plate, and it took her a good few seconds to register that there was no food left. This helped bring her back to the current moment, as she fully remembered where she was and what she was doing. She was in a small, downtrodden inn. Only a few people were inside, most of them drinking. Lowering her fork, she stood and prepared to pay, only to recall that any money she and Hazel had was lost when their carriage was overturned.
“Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she patted down her pockets, searching for any kind of currency.
“No need, miss,” came the sullen innkeeper’s voice, “Way things are, none of us have much coin to throw around, nor much use for it.”
“Thank you, good sir,” She replied, truly grateful. Actual meals had been difficult to come by in recent days.
Exiting the inn, her ears were immediately assaulted with the voice of a nearly hysteric woman, “Emily!” she called out, desperately, into the woods. When no reply came, she turned around, but her eyes lit up with hope when she spotted Alma. She nearly sprinted towards her. Once she was closer, Alma were able to take in her appearance. She was a woman, maybe into her mid-thirties, with long auburn hair. She had smooth, fair facial features, but her face was twisted in sadness and worry. She wore a brown and white shirt, and a long blue skirt that reached down to her ankles. Alma’s eyes settled on a large stain on the front of the skirt. It was dried, but the discolored outline of a wetting was very apparent. Must’ve pissed on herself during the attack.
“You! You’re one of those monster hunters from out of town, right?!” The woman stammered out very rapidly.
“I am the monster hunter from out of town, yes.”
“Please, you have to help me!” Her face was more desperate than any Alma had ever seen, “My name is Marie. My daughter, Emily, she’s been missing for nearly two days, now.”
Emily? Alma’s face hardened as she recalled the woman who approached them in their camp; the one who led them here. Had she never made it back?
“With everything going on, I just know she must be lost somewhere, probably scared to death, and no one will help me find her!”
“I’m not exactly in any condition for hunting down a lost woman in a monster-infested forest,” Alma motioned to her broken arm, still stuck in a sling.
“I… I know, but please, I can come with you, or- or-”
“So we can both die?”
“Please!” She shouted, her voice cracking as tears began to streak down her cheeks, “I know it’s dangerous, but if you don’t help me, then my little Emily could… ” She trailed off, the words getting stuck in her throat.
Alma was sure she must’ve sounded heartless to the poor woman. It wasn’t that she was afraid or disinterested, it was just a simple matter of her being injured and Marie likely being no good in a pinch. Hazel wouldn’t have hesitated, her mind taunted her, Hazel would probably already be halfway through the forest.
… Dammit. She knew Hazel looked up to her, but she never truly realized just how much she respected the merchant right back. She sighed deeply, “It will be extraordinarily dangerous. I’m wounded, and I won’t be much good in a fight. Are you willing to risk your own life for Emily?”
“Absolutely!” Marie answered without the slightest hesitation, catching Alma off guard. “If I’ve got a choice between my life or hers, I’m choosing Emily!”
“... So be it. I’ll grab some supplies. Find yourself anything you think might be useful. Bring a bag of salt. Meet back here in fifteen minutes,” With that, Alma turned and strode away to gear up.
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A short while later, and Alma and Marie had ventured out into the wilderness, towards Emily’s last known location. Even with a shattered arm, Alma still looked the part of a deadly monster hunter. Her hat sat atop her head, she wore black trousers and a red shirt, with her beloved jacket dangling from her shoulders, since she couldn’t put it over her damaged arm. Since Hazel was currently using her crossbow, Alma carried only her silver dagger. Her good arm was broken, but she was still skilled at wielding the weapon in her left hand.
Marie wore the same clothes she had in town, and carried, as her weapon, a scythe. A farmer’s scythe. If things get dangerous, she isn’t going to last a second, she mused. Marie had at least followed her instructions and brought some salt with her.
Before very long, they came upon the site of their old camp. Emily may have been stealthy enough for them to not notice her directly, but she wasn’t good enough not to leave tracks. Broken twigs, disturbed foliage, and footprints all gave away the young woman’s path. They walked along Emily’s path. Marie evidently couldn’t see a single thing that Alma could, and stuck very close beside her. It was good that the woman had made herself so easy to track; Alma could feel a growing need to relieve her bowels, and she didn’t want to be out for much longer.
A pained groan a short distance away stopped both of them in their tracks. “Emily?” Marie whispered, before Alma raised her hand, signalling for silence. The two of them crept forward slowly, taking cover behind a tree. Peering around it, they saw a pale, emaciated man with scars covering his body. Marie covered her mouth, and recoiled backwards.
“Ghoul,” Alma said simply. Drawing her dagger, she bashed the handle against the tree, making a loud noise. A surprised grunt came from the direction of the ghoul.
“What are you doing?” Marie asked frantically. She was shaking.
Rapid, dragging footsteps drew closer and closer as the ghoul approached. With a snarl, it rounded the tree, and centered its vision on Marie. The poor woman was shaking so badly that she dropped her scythe, and brought her quivering hands up over her mouth. Her knees knocked into one another, and her bladder evidently released itself as Alma observed the spot where her skirt had already been urinated in grew wet with piss once more. A large stain grew, and little trails raced down the blue skirt, leaving darkened streaks behind them before reaching the hem and dripping onto the ground. Some urine wound down her legs, flowing over her shoes, and much of it simply fell between her shaking legs, splashing and puddling onto the ground.
Marie could only whimper as the ghoul approached her, but Alma was prepared. It passed by without noticing the hunter, and once she had the opportunity, she took it. Wielding the silver blade in her left hand, she sliced several times across the ghouls’ back, eliciting pained moaning and sizzling flesh. It fell to its knees, whereupon Alma jammed the blade into the side of the thing’s head, ending its moaning.
“Are you okay?” She asked Marie.
Her senses seemed to gradually return to her as she realized it was over, and that she was safe. Her eyes slowly panned downwards, centering on the giant stain on her skirt and the puddle below her. Her cheeks flared red, and she lowered her hands over her groin, trying to shield the evidence from view, “I’m fine,” she answered after a delay. She picked up her scythe, and the two continued onward.
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Near to two hours later, and they were still searching. Emily’s trail made inexplicable twists and turns, practically running in circles at certain points. Alma’s thoughts over the past hour or so had only been a stream of curses and swears as her need to empty her bowels grew from a pressing matter to an urgent one. “Emily!” Alma called out, hoping they had gotten close enough for her to hear them. Marie joined her in calling for the missing woman.
After minutes of shouting, the two were losing energy, and Alma didn’t want to attract any more monsters. That is, until they heard a woman cry “Help!” in the distance. Hearing this, their walk became a run, and they continued to call out as they ran in the direction of the voice.
At last, they came upon the source, and Alma could hear Marie begin to cry tears of joy when they spotted Emily. She was sitting upon a large, flat rock. The rock itself was positioned in front of a small cave mouth, and on the shore of narrow river that flowed into the cave. “Emily, sweetie! Come here!” Marie exclaimed as she approached her daughter. Emily’s face was pale, and she looked afraid. This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.
All too late, Alma spotted the reflection of the light in the eyes watching them from inside the cave. “Marie, get back, now!!” She commanded, but the ecstatic woman was no longer listening to her, she only cared that her daughter had been located. Located and used as bait! Alma realized. She ran forward, quickly catching up to Marie, and grabbed her by the arm. Not caring to be gentle, she pulled her back, and hard. Marie fell onto the ground, and Alma yanked her up and tossed her backwards as the beast finally emerged from its den.
She should’ve guessed; the strange, erratic trail Emily left- she was running from something. The trail was pristine and clear, because the beast wanted it to be. Even before the monster was fully visible, Alma knew exactly what it was: a huntsman. A massive, man-sized spider creature. Like a disgusting centaur, a sickly humanoid body rose from the creature’s front. Atop its bulbous head were no fewer than twenty black eyes, and two sets of fanged mandibles, one pointing up, the other down, creating an X-shaped mouth. Two clawed arms protruded from the upper body. These creatures were widely feared- and rightly so. They stalk prey for hours, before pursuing them, then using them as bait to lure in more prey. This thing must’ve been following them since before they set up camp, then captured Emily once she left on her own.
And now, it had successfully baited the two of them- a cripple and a frightened mother- directly to its lair. This was bad.
Evidently, the gravity of the situation was not lost on Marie, as Alma heard a faint squelching coming from the woman on the ground, followed by a somewhat watery sound. The smell of waste promptly confirmed that Marie had, indeed, just shit herself. It’s like Hazy is still here, Alma thought as she yanked Marie to her feet. A brown smear had formed on her backside, indicating that a good deal of the mess in her panties was not very solid.
Drawing her dagger, Alma started to draft some kind of plan for how to fight a huntsman alone, when she noticed that Marie was still clutching her scythe. Looking at the woman beside her, Alma was surprised to see that Marie, despite just having crapped herself, did not look afraid or faint, but rather, determined, and even angry. Then she noticed that the woman wasn’t glaring at the monster, but at her daughter. Marie’s resolve to protect Emily was nothing short of astounding to Alma.
“Marie,” She uttered, as the huntsman began to approach them, “Are you ready to save your daughter?”
“Absolutely,”
“Then listen close: Get that thing’s attention. Swing that scythe around, try to hit it. I’ll come around behind it and jump on its back. From there, I can stab it to death.”
“Understood,” She replied, then charged forward, scythe held high. The huntsman skittered forward, its own scythe-like claws ready to strike. Marie swung her weapon as hard as she can, and the monster quickly backstepped to dodge the blow. She kept up the pressure, swinging over and over again, forcing the beast back again and again. Alma used this bought time well, and maneuvered around the side of the large creature. She did her best to ignore how close she was to losing control of her own bowels.
Marie’s frantic swings were stopped as the huntsman parried one of her strikes, then moved in for the kill with its other hand. She was good as dead. Emily screamed in terror as she watched. Gritting her teeth at the ruin of their plan, Alma slashed at the beast’s leg, the silver biting into its unholy flesh. The strike that would have slain Marie was stopped abruptly as the huntsman recoiled in pain, then spun about to face Alma. Lacking any long range melee weapon, she knew that she stood no chance facing it directly. She began backtracking as fast as she could, nimbly dodging the stabs and slashes from the thing’s long claws. One thrust of its weaponized arm came close enough to her face that it sliced some of her hair. Alma launched herself backwards, narrowly dodging another slice that would have removed her head. She stumbled and fell backwards, her broken arm screaming in agony.
The huntsman closed the distance immediately, and would be upon her before she could stand- were it not for Marie. The woman ran forward, and swung the scythe downward, burying it deeply into the creature’s thorax. It screeched in pain. Alma used this distraction to return to her feet, and once again circle around the huntsman. Attempting to dislodge the scythe, Marie tugged and pulled, and managed to cut it deeper and deeper, but not pull it out. This aggravated it enough that it forgot about Alma, and turned to face Marie. She had failed to dislodge the scythe, and it was pulled from her hands as the beast turned about, leaving her defenseless.
By now, however, Alma had climbed atop the thing’s back, and made for its upper body. There, she proceeded to drive her silver dagger again and again through its many eyes, into its brain. It screeched and squealed, it flailed and shook, but slowly, all of that ceased, as the huntsman succumbed to Alma’s attacks.
They both were drenched in sweat by the time it finally died. Alma slid off its back, and collapsed onto the grass, panting heavily. A moment later, she rose to see Emily walking towards the two. “M-mom?” She said, in disbelief.
Without a word, Marie sprung from the ground and embraced her daughter. Now that she was so close to them, Alma noticed with some sympathy that Emily’s skirt was also wet in the front and browned in the back. Like mother like daughter, She joked to herself, Must’ve had the poor woman placed as bait for so long she couldn’t hold it any more. Just thinking of “holding it” reminded her of her own issues in that regard. She didn’t know at what point during the fight it had happened, but she could feel her mess had already begun to emerge, and was touching her panties.
She took one step, wondering if she could make it to a bush or something for some privacy, but felt her butt part and more mess flow into her panties as she did so. She sighed, and resigned herself to her fate. With a slight push, her mess slid out of her, and deposited into her panties with a quiet crackle. The soft mass collected in the back of her underwear, flattening and spreading out slightly, but mostly just creating a ball. She could feel quite a bit more still inside herself, and it joined the rest of the mass, further flattening and condensing it. By the time she had finished emptying her bowels into her pants, her trousers had an absolutely monstrous bulge on their rear. It had been a long time since she’d loaded her panties this badly.
A few moments later, everyone had caught their breath, and was ready to move on. Neither of them made a comment about the veritable mountain of mess Alma had left in her pants, but neither of them were in any position to judge. They made their way back to town, Marie and Emily not moving more than an inch away from each other the whole walk.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
At long last, the finale of the Journey to Arnwick begins. The other two parts are pretty much done, and will be released within the next several days. This one is largely just a setup for the next two parts, but the big finish is gonna be worth it, and will be released very soon. This one features a prominent male scene, fair warning. The rest of the finale will basically only feature female scenes, though.
Journey to Arnwick
Finale Part I: Dark Times
The cracks grow…
The fortress will fall…
She cannot resist much longer…
She will be the one…
The one to complete the circle…
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Hazel awoke as a ray of sunlight shone upon her face. Groaning in pain, she forced herself to sit upright. The fight yesterday left her sore and bruised all over, and something as simple as getting out of bed was quite an effort. Remarkably, she found herself sitting in a dry bed. She’d figured grotesque nightmares and a soaking mattress would be her companions as she slept, but she’d actually slept like a baby. Perhaps she was just too exhausted to have done anything but go comatose.
Despite how deeply she slept, however, she saw that she was only the second one to rise. Alma and Tabitha were still out cold. Hazel thought of waking them, but decided to let them rest. They’d be going after the puppetmaster behind all of this soon, and they’d need to be rested when it was time. Hazel finally stepped out of bed, and stretched. Her muscles and joints ached, and a chorus of cracks sounded from her back. Looking over her clothes, she found a red blouse and long, black skirt she fancied. When they set out to Arnwick, she’d need to wear more appropriate clothing, but for the time being, why shouldn’t she wear something nice? Hazel felt she’d more than earned the right to treat herself, even if just a little.
Using a mirror in the room to make herself a little more presentable, she noticed the weary look on her own face. It had been only a few days. And yet she felt the exhaustion, stress, and anguish of decades weighing upon her. She thought of her old home, now in terrible danger; her new home, destroyed and made into the lair of a demon; her belongings, scattered and destroyed throughout the woods; and of her closest friend, Alma. When Hazel’s group had returned to town, they learned that Alma had set out on her own mission to rescue Emily. Hazel hated to think of Alma putting herself in danger with her arm still broken.
She forced a smile, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make it look real. She had no idea where they would go, what they would do once the demon in Arnwick was slain.
Finished with the mirror, she turned and prepared to leave. She grabbed Alma’s crossbow, as danger could come at any moment. A sudden groan broke the silence, making Hazel jump slightly. Tabitha was tossing and turning in her sleep. Hazel wondered if she was having a nightmare, and if she should wake her. She stepped closer, and noted with concern that Tabitha’s forehead was drenched in sweat. She reached down to gently shake her, but pulled her hand back as Tabitha began forcefully rolling and twitching. Her spasms flung the blanket off of her body, and were there not more pressing concerns, Hazel would’ve been embarrassed to know that Tabitha slept in only her underwear.
“Tabitha, Tabitha!” She said sharply, attempting to steady her friend’s movements. A loud hissing became audible, and Hazel spared a quick glance to confirm that Tabitha had begun to wet herself. Her panties darkened, and a growing stain spread across the mattress below her. “Tabitha!!” Hazel shook the woman’s shoulders as hard as she could until, at last, Tabitha’s eyes opened.
The witch hunter didn’t speak, she only made a terrified gasping sound, and reached for her sword. “Me, it’s me!” Hazel fearfully stated.
“Hazel?” Tabitha’s erratic breathing slowed.
“Are you all right? What was all that?”
“All of… ” Tabitha trailed off as she wiggled her thighs a little. An annoyed expression was all Hazel needed to know that she’d just noticed the puddle underneath her.
“You… You were thrashing about. You seemed terrified.” Hazel sidestepped the wet bed issue as elegantly as she could.
“I have these… nightmares. They’re terrible,” She seemed lost in thought, almost forgetting Hazel’s presence. “Er, thank you, Hazel, for waking me.”
“Of course,” Hazel stole one last look at the piss stain, which had grown considerably. Tabitha’s white panties were thoroughly saturated. “I’ll leave so you can get dressed. I think Eliza is already downstairs, so we’ll be there.”
“Mm,” Tabitha only grunted her assent. Hazel wondered if she was just embarrassed by the accident, but even that seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind. The contents of her nightmare must’ve been truly disturbing.
“Do you... Wish to speak of your nightmares?”
“I don’t. I’ve been having them since I arrived here, and I think they’re part of a curse. I won’t give some witch or demon the satisfaction of acknowledging them.”
“I see,” With that, Hazel left their room. She understood that Tabitha wanted solitude to clean herself more than she wanted company.
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Every day, the town seemed to grow quieter. The tavern that comprised the inn’s first story was full of people, but largely devoid of sound. Most of them just sullenly pecked at their meager food and drink. It did not take long to find Eliza, huddled in a corner, as far from other people as she could get. She was intently studying a very large, very thick book. Hazel dragged a chair over, and sat down across from the young witch. It wasn’t until Hazel finally spoke that Eliza noticed with a start that she had company, “Hello, Eliza.”
“Oh!, Uh, hello Hazy.”
Close enough, now, to see the text in the book, Hazel tried to make sense of it, but much of it seemed to be arcane and hieroglyphic. Whatever knowledge that book had to share, it wasn’t for her. Eliza must have noticed her intrigue in the book, as she explained, “It’s an old grimoire that I stole from my parents years ago.”
“I certainly can’t make sense of… whatever those shapes are.”
“This section explains how to create runes of summoning. This is how they called that monster here.”
“The thing that destroyed Arnwick?”
“Exactly.” Eliza ensured that no one was listening in on them, then leaned in to speak, “Hazel, you haven’t been… having any odd dreams, have you?”
“Miraculously not.”
“Nothing strange?” Genuine concern was etched into the witch’s face, “Not necessarily frightening or disturbing, just… off?”
“Um, no, Eliza. I haven’t dreamt of anything lately.”
Eliza exhaled in relief. “Very good. In that case, I can confide something in you.”
Hazel held up her finger, “One moment! Is it… a problem if anyone’s been experiencing terrible dreams?”
“If this tome is accurate, then it could mean that the Beast of Arnwick has cursed them.” After a second, the implication of Hazel’s question struck her, “Who?”
“It’s Tabitha. She was throwing herself about so wildly I thought she might fall out of the bed.”
“Oh dear… ” Eliza seemed to very suddenly get lost in her own thoughts, seemingly trying to find out how this new information would shape the coming conflict.
“What exactly does this mean?”
“I’m not too sure. From what I can gather, the Beast can peer into the minds of those it has cursed.”
“Do you mean-”
“Whatever she knows, the Beast knows.” Once again, she leaned forward, saying slowly and emphatically, “Hazel, she must not discover what we know. If the Beast learns our plans, we won’t stand a chance.”
She opened her mouth to announce her shared distress at this news, when angered shouting drew her attention.
“Just give us the food!” A young man howled at the terrified woman running the tavern.
“Please, sir,” the woman pleaded, close to tears, “We don’t have enough to give more than a small-”
He produced a knife, and stabbed it into the counter. “My sister and I need food to get the hell out of this cursed place, so just give me whatever you’ve got, or I’ll jump back there and take it!” His eyes were wild, and unsure. He was scrawny, and didn’t exactly look like a thief or a robber.
But Hazel had learned a lot on this journey, and she easily recognized the look in his eyes: fear. Abject terror. Different from the kind reflected in the bartender’s eyes, but fear nonetheless. A wild, unpredictable fear, a kind that drives once kind people to acts of violence and madness. A kind that might drive a man just trying to feed his family to murder. The people in the tavern began to file out, leaving the situation behind them. The others simply gazed long into their plates and mugs, not willing to intervene. Why should they? Death was coming for all of them, why try to be a hero?
For a split second, Hazel was certain she saw Arnwick, the place that was to be her home, in the fear of the man’s eyes. Was it merciful and fast for Arnwick? Did they descend into hopelessness and chaos? Did they turn on one another, kill one another?
Something inside her urged her forward, something declaring that the cruel fate that befell Arnwick would not take this place, too. The tavern matron was stunned in fear, and the man began to climb onto the counter, preparing to take his claim by force. Hazel stood, she didn’t know when the crossbow found its way into her hands, by there it was, loaded and ready. “Hazy, no!” came Eliza’s harsh whisper, but it fell on deaf ears.
With the crossbow’s sharp and terrible sound, a bolt was thrown, cutting through the air mere inches from the man’s nose. He shouted in surprise, and fell backwards, off of the counter. He sat upright, and felt the back of his head for injuries. Hazel was nowhere near as skilled with the weapon as Alma, but she still had enough time to reload it. “Don’t!” She commanded, halting the man’s attempt to stand.
Their eyes met. His eyes were angry, full of defiance, but his rage collapsed under the weight of fear. The will left his face, and that wild, hopeless look returned. She wondered what he must have seen in her eyes, as the fear mounted, and overwhelmed him. His trousers grew dark at the groin, and a pool of urine slowly spread underneath him. A faint hiss was audible, and a little steam rose upwards. He glanced down at his pants for a second, but then back up to Hazel.
“Get rid of the knife!”
He seemed to weigh his options for a moment, but given that the puddle under him was still growing, it was evident he hadn’t found the courage to attempt an attack. He begrudgingly threw the knife aside.
“Now stand up.”
He stood, arms outstretched and palms open. Some piss streamed and dripped down his legs, ensuring more than just his crotch and butt were soaked. All of the tavern’s remaining patrons had fled when Hazel fired the crossbow, so he was at least fortunate enough that few of them saw him urinate on himself in terror. “Might as well just shoot me and get it over with!” He muttered.
“I don’t want to kill you, please don’t force me to.”
“Why not! That… Thing will be back here soon enough, and then we’re all dead, anyway!” He took a step towards Hazel, nearly making her shoot him, “I don’t care if I have to threaten someone or hurt them, my sister and I need food so we can survive the trip out of here!”
“You know,” a cold and menacing voice uttered from behind him, “That’s not unlike the mentality of the witches I hunt.”
The man’s eyes widened, they all recognized Tabitha’s voice. He spun around, far more worried about the witch hunter than Hazel and her crossbow. “You’re about to cross a dark threshold, my friend. I’m more than prepared to do what needs to be done if you do,” Tabitha wrapped her fingers around her sword. Everyone in the town had seen how easily that sword severed heads and limbs.
There was a crackle, and a brown discoloration formed on his rear. Hazel cringed slightly as the smell struck her.
“Dark times require strong people,” Tabitha began, “Only cowards betray and abandon their own. If you really want to make sure your sister is safe, then pick up that knife and prepare to drive it into some undead. We’ll be fighting their lord, soon enough.”
He stood there in a daze, looking close to fainting. “If we have an understanding, then leave, and find your courage. We’ll need it before long,” Tabitha commanded.
“... Right… ” He quietly turned and left the building, retrieving his knife along the way.
There was silence for a moment, until a small but grateful voice spoke, “Thank you both, so much.” Hazel remembered the tavern matron then, having completely forgotten that she’d done any of this to protect her. The dark skinned woman wore a cream-colored dress, and smiled warmly at her.
“Oh, right, of course. You’re not hurt, are you?” She approached the counter, wondering how badly the man must’ve soiled himself for the smell to have reached so far and lingered so long.
“No no, I’m fine. You stopped him before he could actually do anything. But, well… ” She shuffled uncomfortably, and Hazel began to think it wasn’t the man’s accident she was smelling. “I was quite frightened, and I’m afraid that I may now need to, um, find clean underwear.”
“I understand.”
"Do you?"
Not all the townspeople had been present when they returned from the necromancer's lair. Not all of them had seen the group attempting to walk as they though hadn't each pissed and shat in their pants. But in truth, a different time had come to Hazel's mind; a time from years ago. "I actually used to be a merchant. Once, a drunk man kicked the door open and started waving a sword around. He was demanding money, and free merchandise, but I was hardly in any state to grant his request," Hazel blushed going into the next part of the story, "I was paralyzed, all I could do was fill my underwear and then make a puddle under myself."
The woman smirked a bit, still shuffling and trying to find a comfortable way to stand with a mess in her panties. Hazel continued, "When it happened to me, I had to answer to the town guard about the drunkard. The whole time I was explaining what happened to them, I had a giant wet stain down the front of my skirt." They both chuckled, "Anyway, we'd be happy to watch your store for a moment while you get cleaned up."
“Would you?” She asked, silently grateful that no one else had said anything further about her soiled drawers. Even before she and Alma had set out for Arnwick, Hazel had difficulties controlling her fears. At the slightest provocation, she would run and hide, often leaving a urine trail behind herself. She didn't live in a dangerous town, but any town has its troublemakers, and Hazel was terrified of all of them. After all they’d been through, she wondered if there was a regular human anywhere in the world who could scare her that badly now. The thought of the demon they had to face certainly made her bladder feel a little weak, but it seemed to have that effect on everyone.
She’d grown much bolder, too. Never before would she have had the courage to do something like she just had. Only a couple weeks ago, she likely would’ve just soiled herself along with the tavern matron, and waited for someone else to save the day. Pride welled within her, and she wished Alma had been there to see it.
“Well done, Hazel,” Tabitha said as she walked by, and took a seat at the bar.
“I was worried you were about to shoot him,” Eliza murmured, “But you didn’t. Nice work.”
Hazel blushed, but Tabitha cut their celebrations short, “I hope you two have been discussing strategy down here. We really don’t have long before that monster musters another army. I don’t think this place can survive another assault.”
Eliza shot Hazel a very serious look, clearly insisting that she say nothing. When the message was received, Eliza did the talking, “We’ve worked some things out. I think I know how to enchant our weapons in a way that will kill the demon.”
“Splendid. I see why they’ve kept you around,” Tabitha’s voice dripped with contempt.
Hazel despised Tabitha’s attitude towards her friend, “‘Least Eliza didn’t piss her sheets… ” The witch hunter’s cheeks burned in shame with the accusation, signalling its truth to Eliza.
“She also is the only one of us who escaped the necromancer’s lair unscathed. You’re a fool to call that a coincidence.”
“She killed them! She saved your life!” Hazel’s voice had become a shout, “What more does she have to do for you to respect her?”
“She’s lived a life of witchcraft and sin, it takes more than a couple good deeds to make up for such a thing.”
“She has been nothing but helpful-”
“Do you know what is most damning, Hazel?” Tabitha forcefully interrupted, “That not once has she refuted what I’ve said. Not once has she jumped to her own defense. She knows I speak the truth.”
Eliza cast a pained look down, to the floor, still silent.
“You see? Nothing to say, as always.”
“I am quiet because my actions speak for me,” Eliza muttered.
Both of them looked at her. Tabitha was surprised to hear the witch’s voice, Hazel was overjoyed that her friend might finally fend for herself. “I came to the rescue of Alma and Hazel, and they returned the favor. I have traveled with them, and many times over we have saved each other’s lives. I have saved you, too. I asked nothing in return, and now I am preparing to create weapons that will kill the Beast of Arnwick. If you cannot hear how loud my actions speak, then you are willfully deaf.”
Tabitha’s scowl deepened, but heavy footsteps descending the staircase mercifully stole everyone’s attention. Alma smiled at them as though nothing was wrong, even though she had undoubtedly heard the argument.
“Hello Alma!” Hazel chirped. Alma waved her unbroken arm, reached the bottom of the stairs, and walked towards them, sidestepping the puddle on the ground with a curious glance.
“That’s a… long story,” Hazel said, deciding to tell her later.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Only one to go after this, and it's the big finish. It's one I've been planning for a good while, and I'm excited to finally bring it here. I've also been excited about this one, so I hope everyone enjoys Part II!
Journey to Arnwick
Finale Part II: Fear
Fear is the most terrible, powerful weapon in any arsenal. Fear divides, conquers, and destroys. Fear drives the righteous to commit atrocities, brings the brave to their knees. Fear kills the enemy long before the battle is joined.
And Fear is the domain of demons…
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“He will be surrounded by his army of the dead,” Eliza had explained. “We will need any townsfolk willing to fight to come with us, or we’ll never get close.”
Hazel could see it, then: a calamitous battle. The people, haggard and desperate, following the lead of their heroes in a suicidal charge that was their only chance at victory. Unbeknownst to these imaginary warriors, their heroic leaders were just as frightened and desperate as they were. They would fight, and many, maybe most, maybe all, would perish. It made her sick to think about.
“These people don’t know how to fight,” Tabitha had interjected.
“But you do,” Alma had countered.
They passed by Tabitha’s impromptu training grounds. Every able-bodied man and woman stood before the mighty witch hunter, doing their best to repeat her motions, and heed her advice about the foes they would face. They were farmers and merchants, they’d never in their lives thought they’d be fighting to save the land from a nefarious demon. Tabitha nodded and smiled approvingly, pleased at the success of her teachings.
“The last time he struck this town, he brought a goliath flesh creature with him. It took everything we had to stop it,” Tabitha had stated.
“Eliza knows how to make all sorts of potions,” Hazel had suggested, “Maybe she could teach some of the people how to make firebombs or something?”
Hazel hadn’t known how good of an idea it was when she’d said it. But now, as she passed by the collection bin where Matthew and some other hunters had been depositing the foraged reagents Eliza had specified, she knew it was an excellent idea. The couple of cooks still alive in the town gathered the ingredients, and followed Eliza’s instructions on how to convert them into deadly weapons. Already, Hazel and Alma saw dozens of little vials of liquid fire, just waiting to be unleashed.
“Now, Tabitha,” Eliza had said, “This demon stops your heart when you gaze upon him, yes?”
“Correct.”
“I can devise charms that should inoculate us to the worst of that curse. Being in his presence will not be pleasant, but it will not be lethal.”
True to her word, Eliza was hard at work, poring through her grimoires and skillfully merging various magical components together. The two of them approached, and checked on her progress. The witch had a mixture of holy tomes and dark grimoires on the table in front of her, combining their teachings to craft the charms that would permit them to truly commit to the assault on the Beast of Arnwick.
“We fell prey to an unholy creature’s trap days ago,” Alma had added, “That’s why my arm is broken. We killed that creature by having Eliza perform a consecration.”
“Indeed,” Eliza had continued, “But those meager blessings won’t be enough to kill a greater demon. The consecrations I can perform will weaken him, render him vulnerable. Tabitha, your weapon is a truly holy one. When we have wounded him, it will fall to you to deal the finishing blow on the monster.”
“Understood,” Tabitha had answered.
But that had not been the truth. Tabitha could not be trusted. Whether she was aware of it or not, she had become the demon’s greatest weapon. The Beast saw through her eyes, heard through her ears. Their plan did hinge on Tabitha, but not in the way they had told her.
“A curse of possession… ” Eliza had explained, once Tabitha had left to train the townspeople, “creates a bridge of sorts between the possessor and the victim. Just as the demon can inflict harm, so too can the victim. His control over her will be absolute, but if we weaken him there, at the bridge… ”
“We can kill him?” Alma had asked.
“It may be our only hope. If he is as powerful as my parents’ tome describes, our weapons will be all but completely useless against him.”
She finished the charms just as they arrived. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. The time to prepare their actual secret weapon was upon them.
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“So this is it,” Alma’s voice was flat, emotionless, yet still it spoke volumes.
“One way or another, this nightmare will be over,” Hazel replied. They sat on a bench outside the town’s chapel. Eliza was inside, preparing a ritual of some sort that would either give them the magic sword they needed, or leave them at the demon’s mercy. She’d been light on the details.
“I’m proud of you, y’know,” Alma nudged her in the ribs with her elbow, “You kept saying how you weren’t brave, and yet here you are, preparing to face down a demon.” Alma leaned forward, and turned to face her, “Do you know how many people in the world have the courage to take on a demon, Hazy?”
“Guess there can’t be very many, huh?” A slight smile broke onto her face as she found herself finally unable to reject Alma’s praise.
“Only the strongest, craziest people in the world, my friend.”
“Well, I’m not very strong, so I guess I’m just crazy,” They both chuckled. The two were quiet, until Hazel spoke again, “Thank you, Alma. Really.”
“I’ve been telling you for a long time that you were-”
“No, not that,” Hazel grinned as she faced her closest friend, “For everything. You’ve never… Well I guess you’ve never let me down. I can’t think of a time I really needed you and you weren’t there.”
Hazel knew that Alma wasn’t particularly good at articulating her feelings, and the monster hunter could do little but smile, and try to pick some words of gratitude. Hazel had a feeling they’d be there all day if she waited for Alma to think of a proper reply, so she kept going, “When this is all over… Would you stay with me?”
“Sorry?” Alma stammered.
“Will you stay with me? I don’t know where we’ll go, or what we’ll do. Arnwick is gone, all my money and all my things are gone, but… I would really like it if you’d come with me.”
Alma took a moment to answer, “I think I’d like that, too.” The two sat in silence for a short while, each lost in thought. Hazel was overjoyed that Alma had accepted. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t have a plan. You’ve turned out to be quite the little killer. I’m sure we can find a village somewhere beset by hordes of monsters.”
The two laughed. Finally, the door to the chapel opened, and an exhausted Eliza beckoned them inside.
The church looked like it had been ransacked and defiled. Every pew was shoved aside to create a large open center, in which was a large runic circle and an assortment of candles and miscellaneous reagents placed at odd and precise intervals around the floor. The purple paint used to create the rune seemed to pulse and hum with life. Hazel couldn’t tell if it was friendly or not.
“Alma, tell me, do you happen to know a demon’s greatest weakness?” Eliza inquired.
“I don’t believe so, but I think I’ve heard that demons hide their true names. I know they make it a point never to give their real names.”
“Precisely. A demon’s name gives a summoner power over it. My parents knew his name, but they chose to submit to him. If they hadn’t been so… ” She swallowed her bitter words, and was struck with a wave of sorrow before continuing, “They held the key to stopping him. They died with it, and they didn’t dare leave it written anywhere.”
“So… Is that meant to help us learn his name?” Hazel gestured towards the disturbing rune etched into the ground.
“...It is,” Eliza gave both of them a grim look.
“There’s a catch, I presume?” Alma intoned.
“This… ” Eliza turned to face her handiwork, “will permit us to speak with the dead.”
Hazel was taken aback, and Alma was speechless.
“The catch is… ” Eliza crossed her arms, and fixed a hard and steady gaze on the two of them, “The person who uses it may join the dead. Whatever force it is that separates the world of the living from the world of the dead, it does not tolerate trespassers. Spirits that the grimoires call ‘jailers’ will hunt you once you’re inside, and if they find you… ”
“That’s it?” Alma asked.
“That’s it,” Eliza confirmed.
“I’ll do it,” Alma replied. Hazel gave her a pleading look, already seeing the new future she’d envisioned going up in flames.
“Alma, you don’t understand. This is a ritual even my parents dared not perform. You need to really think about this-”
“I’m a monster hunter, Eliza, I thought about it a long time ago. I’ve been ready to give my life for the greater good for as long as I can remember,” She attempted to lift her broken arm, but could only bring it a few inches higher, “Besides, I’m hardly gonna be any good in the real fight.”
“Alma, please… ” Hazel’s voice was shaky.
“Don’t you worry, Hazy. I’m not dead yet. I will see you again after this.” She turned to Eliza, “So what exactly needs to be done?”
Eliza’s face was wrought with guilt, like she was walking her friend to their execution. “From here, I can help guide you. I will try and bring you to the souls of my parents. If there is anything human left within them, they will tell us what we need to know. If not… ”
“I understand. I’m ready when you are.”
Eliza had Alma sit in the middle of the rune, and lit the candles. From her dark tome, she read a series of unsettling incantations that charged the air with a malicious energy. A haze slowly gathered in Hazel’s mind, she felt the world slow and blur, as if she was about to fall into a deep sleep. This seemed to be the desired effect, as Alma, still sitting with her legs crossed, was put into a trance.
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Alma’s eyes opened. She was lying on her back in a dark and unfamiliar place. There was only darkness above her, as though there were no sky. She stood, and turned in a full circle. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only an endless expanse of utter blackness. A cold chill permeated the air, chilled her to her core. She noticed with joy that her arm was no longer in a sling. Exactly as it had been, her arm was once again fully functional, as though it was never broken. She didn’t have much experience with witchcraft, but she assumed it was simply a side effect, or a trick of this place.
Alma, don’t make a sound.
A voice, Eliza’s voice, suddenly echoed through the darkness. The sound reverberated oddly through the shadowy land, Alma could not even say from what direction the sound emanated.
I’m going to perform the next part of the ritual, now. It should bring you to one or both of my parents.
Little lights broke through the smoky darkness above, shining down upon her. They grew rapidly, until the black sky was split apart and a golden light rained down. Reflecting the blinding glow in the sky, the ground opened up as well, until Alma was forced to shield her eyes from the onslaught of light. When she dared to open them again, she beheld a robed and hooded man, kneeling a few feet in front of her. He was faced away from her, and seemingly was praying.
Alma, if you must speak, do it quickly and quietly, Eliza’s disembodied voice warned.
She looked around, verifying that nothing was watching or preparing to attack her, and spoke in a low voice, “Excuse me,”
The kneeling man raised his head slightly. Very slowly, he lowered his hands to his side, “... Did my daughter send you?”
“She did.”
“I presume she wants to put an end to the demon?”
“We do.”
He turned his head slightly, his face still obscured by the hood, “Our bodies, were they slain?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Our bodies. The demon kept them in his service. But I had forsaken that husk long ago. Trapped here for years. Something changed only a short while ago. Did you lay the bodies of my wife and I to rest?”
“Eliza and my friend Hazel slew them, yes.”
His shoulders lowered, and he drew a deep breath, “Thank you.”
“We need your help.”
“The allure of power is irresistable. I fell victim to it. My wife fell victim to it. The demon wielded his gifts as his strongest weapon. Only when it was too late did I realize we were never in control. If I am to help you, you must make me a promise, child.”
She took a step forward, “Anything.”
“If Eliza has sent you here, she must be in possession of my old grimoire. Burn it. Burn all of them. Destroy all of my life’s work, and bring my daughter someplace far away from Arnwick. Once the demon is dead, leave this sad story behind, and never look back.”
Alma placed her hand over her heart, “I swear to you, I will destroy all of it. I will bring Eliza with me, wherever I go.”
His voice was a quiet, almost choked whisper, “Thank you, dear child.”
“Please, now, I need to know-”
“The demon’s name,” He interrupted, “Correct. I only learned it after I’d been enthralled by him, when I could not use it against him. To know his name will give you tremendous power over him. It will weaken him, it can subdue him, give you time to slay him.”
He finally stood, and peered out at the endless black expanse. “Zalacay… ” He muttered, and the word seeped into shadows around them, wriggled and wormed its way into Alma’s head. Her heart beat rapidly, and she took deep breaths to steady herself. He turned to face her, revealing a gnarled and disfigured face. Scars cut deep into his flesh, and his left cheek was simply a gaping hole, revealing teeth. “Do not take him lightly, child. Even with this weapon, Zalacay will not go easily.”
With no flash of light, no effects whatsoever, the old necromancer was gone, vanished into thin air. “Did you hear that, Eliza?” No reply came, it grew uncomfortably silent, “Eliza, are you there? How do I leave?”
The chill of the place grew more severe. Alma crossed her arms over her chest, shivering slightly. Her breaths created plumes of steam. Dread cut into her heart like a knife, perhaps it was simply her instincts, or some supernatural force, but at that moment she was certain that she was not truly alone. She whirled around, the cold threatening to freeze her to death. Whispers floated through the air, as though carried by the wind. Their voices blended together into a cacophony, but she could make out just a few words and sentences.
“Who are you?”
“How did you get here?”
“She doesn’t belong.”
“She must leave.”
“She must die.”
Alma’s fear was nearly overwhelming. The voices surrounded her, but she could see no source. And yet, she could feel something approaching- something horrible.
“We must take the dead,” came one of the whispers, louder than the rest. All at once, they repeated this phrase.
Take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead.
A sound like a low moaning rose from behind her, and Alma could hardly muster the nerve to face it. When she did, she saw a humanoid figure rising from the shadowy ground. Clad in steely gray armour and black robes, a helmet like that of a knight, albeit of a cruel and jagged design, covered its head. Even through the gaps in the metal, there was nothing but inky blackness underneath. In one hand, it carried a bladed mace, with each of its edges serrated, and covered in ancient blood. A long chain was wrapped around the other arm, ending in a scythe-like hook, similarly discolored with the reddish-brown tinge of old blood.
Take the dead take the dead take the dead take the dead, roared in her ears, deafeningly loud. The creature rose to its full height, atleast ten feet, and loomed over her. The creature, presumably a jailer, radiated a terrible presence unlike anything she’d ever felt. She was paralyzed, stricken numb with fear. She couldn’t even feign surprise when she felt her underpants grow heavy. Her panties tightened in the front as her waste stretched out the back, replacing the sensation of cloth with one not unlike mud. The bulge in the seat of her trousers was very large, she had well and truly voided her bowels on herself.
The jailer drifted forward, not moving its legs, simply floating. When it drew close enough, it raised its sadistic mace into the air, and brought it crashing down. Alma knew death was certain if she did not react. She had forced her eyes closed, and fought through the terror. She could only rely on instinct as her mind was addled by fear, but it was enough as she dodged backwards. She stumbled, attempted to turn around, and fell to her hands and knees. The jailer still drifted towards her. She looked back at it for only a second, eyes wide, before she forced herself into a sprint.
Her breaths came out as ragged sobs, and her whole still felt numb. She’d not felt fear like this in a long time, perhaps not ever. She heard clinking metal, and forced herself to look upon the jailer. It swung its chained arm, and the sharpened hook was thrown at her legs. Her reflexes couldn’t save her in time, and the hook wrapped around her legs. Mercifully, the angled blade hadn’t stuck into her, but the hook instead encircled her lower legs, just below the knees, and tripped her. She fell to the ground with a thud.
Her body jerked, and she realized she was being dragged right to the jailer. “No, no! Please!” She pleaded, but still she was dragged towards a fate possibly worse than death. A short but fierce stream of urine wet her pants, and then another. After a couple seconds of being dragged, her bladder fully emptied into her clothes. She pissed hard on herself, flooding her black panties. As she was lying on her stomach and being dragged, she could feel the warmth of her urine soaking into her shirt, reaching nearly to her chest.
Take the dead, the voices screamed, take the dead take the dead, they were louder than ever, and louder still as she was pulled closer to the jailer. But then, another voice broke through the nightmarish wails, two, in fact.
“Alma!!” she heard Hazel scream.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out!” Eliza promised.
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Hazel had watched Eliza and Alma with bated breath, worried half to death for her friend. Eliza guided her for a time, until it seemed that Alma had found her own way in whatever place she’d been sent to. They sat in silence, hoping that nothing would go wrong. For a few minutes, nothing did. Panic had gripped the both of them when Alma had started to shudder and shake. A foul smell filled the air as she soiled herself, and a yellow pool rapidly expanded underneath her as she pissed herself.
Eliza flipped through the pages of her fell tome, but swiftly threw it aside, opting instead to grab Alma by the shoulders and begin shaking her. Whatever nightmare had taken her, it refused to let go- Alma didn’t even budge. “What do we do?!” Hazel nearly shouted, “Eliza, what’s going on?!” The witch didn’t listen to her, but instead produced a piece of chalk, and began drawing an extension to the circle. She moved with great haste, yet still the circle was as detailed as she could manage. She sat down in the new circle’s center, slowed her rapid and erratic breathing, and closed her eyes. After a long few seconds, she, too, was pulled into the same trance as Alma.
Hazel watched, waiting for something to happen, wondering if it was even possible for her to help. When neither of them stirred, she picked up Eliza’s grimoire, and began searching for a solution. It was difficult to focus, and she found herself constantly looking up from the book, to check on her friends. Before too long, she found a passage not in the eldritch tongue much of the book was written in. It looked like old notes from a previous owner. Hazel inhaled sharply as she realized that it was, indeed, a description of a method to escape the realm of the dead in an emergency. One needed only to inscribe in that dark place the same rune as they used to enter. Hazel had little doubt that Eliza had gone to do just that.
A pained gasp from Eliza broke her concentration, and Hazel dropped the book to attend to her. Just like Alma, Eliza had begun to shake, an expression of sheer terror overpowering her normally passive face. Hazel heard a hissing, and sure enough a steaming puddle issued from underneath the witch. The wetness soaked into her skirt as the pool continued its expansion. It got her, too! Hazel realized, in horror. She had no choice, then. She and Tabitha couldn’t fight the demon alone, and even if they could, she wasn’t about to leave Alma and Eliza behind. They’d come too far together.
Steeling herself, she grabbed the chalk, and began to draw another extension to the circle.
------------------
For the most part, Eliza was a rather stoic person. She kept her emotions in check to the best of her abilities. More than once, she’d been overcome by fear, but it was always a primal thing. Something promised mortal danger, and her body failed to overcome the weight of that. But when she arrived in the nightmare she’d sent Alma into, when she gazed upon the unrelenting might and silent scorn of a jailer, she learned new fear. It was a cold and hollow feeling. The thing promised mortal danger, certainly, but there was an element to it that would’ve been lost on an animal, unlike the other frightful things she’d faced. An existential dread pervaded every part of her mind. They were not meant to behold this monstrosity.
She saw Alma there, wrapped in unholy chains, being dragged to her demise. Eliza stood there, trembling. Her grip on the chalk she’d carried with her loosened as her body went numb. It fell from her hands, clattering to the black floor of the shadowy place. Slowly, menacingly, the head of the jailer, entombed within its jagged metal helmet, turned upwards to see her. It stopped dragging Alma, instead leaving her bound in chains on the ground.
Take the dead, the ethereal chanting finally registered in Eliza’s mind, increasing in volume until it seemed deafening. The jailer moved forward, bladed mace held aloft. To leave Alma subdued, it had relinquished one of its weapons. Eliza’s body was paralyzed, unable to move, completely stricken numb with fear. She collapsed, landing on her rear. She felt herself begin to urinate, her panties swiftly drenched by the strong stream. Across the sheer black floor the hot pool grew. The warmth washed over her butt and wet the back of her dress she was sitting on. The steam and acrid smell drifted upwards. With a wet crackle, her bowels voided. Her mess bulged out her underwear, having to squeeze out uncomfortably, given that she was sitting. Still pissing, the liquid washed over her burgeoning load, furthering her shame.
The jailer drew closer and closer, preparing to bring its foul weapon down on her head. Behind it, though, there was a flash of movement. Hazel had entered the land of the dead, as well. You idiot!! Eliza mentally chastised, Now you’re going to die in here, too! As expected, Hazel froze in fear as she saw the jailer. Her legs shook, and she shuddered suddenly. With a seemingly unconscious movement, Hazel reached to the back of her trousers, feeling her own rear. Once again unsurprised, Eliza identified these as the movements of someone who’d just shat their pants. Shamefully, they were motions she was all too familiar with.
But what followed actually did surprise Eliza. Hazel closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and ran forward. She was holding a piece of chalk. She was succeeding where Eliza had failed miserably. Hazel reached Alma, and began recreating the rune circle. She worked quickly, and hopefully, accurately. While the jailer had seemingly not noticed the new intrusion, he was almost upon the young witch. She needed to buy the others some time, but her body still refused to listen to her. It was all she could muster to scramble backwards, unable to stand upright. She was still leaking the final stores of urine her body had, leaving warm little trails on the ground as she crawled backwards.
Behind the dark creature, Hazel finished the circle. She stood, and took a single step before halting completely. She had moved to come to Eliza’s aid, but there was hardly a person alive who could’ve found the courage to charge towards a jailer. Eliza knew it would be up to her to save her own life. Were it not for the fact that the thing had given up its hook and chain to subdue Alma, it might’ve been impossible. The jailer was so close, preparing to deliver the single strike it would take to ensure that Eliza belonged in the realm of the dead. She rolled to the side, and willed herself to her feet. It was as if lead bricks were tied to every part of her body, but she fought like never before to stand. She attempted to sprint, but quickly fell forward, landing on her face. She shoved herself off the ground, and ran once again. Her legs were shaky and unresponsive, but somehow she managed it.
Hazel reached out, and steadied her when she was close enough. They huddled down, next to Alma, ensuring all of them were within the limits of the circle. A petrifying growl emanated from the jailer, who raced forward, eager to bring its wrath down upon them.
“Ch- Chalk!” Eliza managed to say. It was all the direction Hazel needed, and she handed her chalk to the witch. Eliza put the finishing touches on the circle, uttered an arcane word, and the foul darkness of their surroundings melted away, replaced instead by an almost blinding white light.
------------------
Each of them gasped hard for air, as though they’d been drowning. The air that greeted them was rather unpleasant, however; acidic with the reek of urine and vile with the stench of three pairs of soiled underpants. Eliza looked down at herself, and regrettably confirmed that Alma’s accidents were not the only ones to carry over into reality. A cold pool of water resided under her, and she could feel a mass like wet clay between her rear end and her panties.
“Alma!” Hazel was already looming over her friend, inspecting her.
“I’m… I’m okay, I think… ” The monster hunter was inspecting her own body for injury. A veteran, more than experienced with such things, she quickly and easily looked past her wet and soiled trousers, disregarding them seemingly completely. But Eliza knew the embarrassment was not lost on her. “...Thank you,” Alma murmured the most heartfelt words she’d ever heard, and suddenly grabbed Eliza by the shirt with her good arm, yanking and pulling her into a tight embrace that encompassed Hazel as well, “I’ve never… Felt… Just, thank you both, so much.”
“All I did was ruin my underwear. We owe our lives to Hazel,” Eliza muttered, her face being held against Alma’s chest. “And Alma,” she began, pulling out of the embrace, “I’m sorry. I had no idea how dangerous it would be-”
“I knew it would be dangerous. And besides, it wasn’t for nothing. We’ve got our secret weapon.”
Eliza jumped to her feet, errant droplets of urine scattering, “You learned the Beast’s name?!”
“I met your father. Made a deal with him,” The mention of her father made Eliza wince, “He told me the name.” She breathed in and out a few times, letting silence settle before she spoke it, “Zalacay.”
The name sent shivers down her spine, and Hazel crossed her arms and shivered.
“So… that’s what we needed, right?” The merchant asked, “We… We can actually fight him now, right?”
“That we can,” Eliza confirmed.
“So when do we take the fight to Arnwick?” Alma asked, standing with Hazel’s assistance.
“I’ll need to make the final preparations,” Eliza said, interrupting herself as she stopped to tug on her wet and soiled skirt, that had clung to the backs of her thighs, blushing intensely, “Which I will do just as soon as I can change my underwear.”
“That… Does sound like a plan,” Alma mused, similarly adjusting her trousers. “Look at you, Hazy,” Alma said with some pride, “Not only did you save us, but you’re the only one to come out clean.”
Hazel laughed a quiet, nervous laugh, “Don’t get too excited… ” She once again reached back, cupping her rear. Eliza faced Hazel’s side, and could see the true bulk of her accident. A very large mass rested in the back of her pants. Her panties must’ve been completely filled, as it looked as though some of the mess had escaped into her actual pants.
“Oh,” Alma muttered, then laughed a little.
“But, truly,” Hazel withdrew her hands from her backside, and looked up to meet the monster’s hunter’s eyes, “I’m so happy you’re okay. We saw it begin to go wrong, and I was so worried about you!”
“I did say that I’d be fine, Hazy. Besides, I made a promise to Eliza’s father that I’ve got to see through.”
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Tabitha did not like letting the little witch out of her sight, especially with the eve of battle drawing so near, but she understood the necessity. The sun was setting, and the townspeople needed rest for the trials ahead. She’d done her utmost to whip them into a fighting force, and some of them showed quite a bit of promise.
Of course, any time her gaze drifted down to the pants and skirts of any of them, she was reminded that they were not fearless champions. Nearly every single one of them, men and women, had large stains and discolorations, the memories and remnants of past terrors upon their pants and skirts. Most bore the old stains of past wettings, many bore the browned splotches of messy soilings, and who knew how many more had filled their pants with relatively “cleaner” soilings that left little record behind. Naturally, a great many of them bore both kinds of stains, Tabitha among them.
It’s a good thing we’re not fighting against a human army, Tabitha mused, How could we possibly look intimidating like this? She had wondered if she should instruct everyone to at least attempt and clean themselves, before deciding it would be pointless. Virtually every one of them was liable to void themselves when the fight began, any way.
As the sun set, and the witch hunter’s impromptu conscription and training seminar concluded, she retired to their room in the inn. Her head was pounding with a headache the likes of which she’d hardly felt before. She collapsed in bed, willing sleep to come and get rid of the pain. She lied there for some time, coming to lament that she hadn’t emptied her bladder beforehand. She briefly entertained the thought of rising to do just that, but found her pounding headache too overwhelming.
Just gonna piss my sheets again when the damned curse gives me a nightmare, anyway, she reasoned. She closed her eyes, and strained for a moment before her bladder released. The wetness flowed into her panties, spilling down into the sheets and mattress. The sickly, wet warmth slowly crept along, covering her butt and reaching the backs of her thighs, and up to her lower back. She felt some shame at having wet her bed intentionally, but the screaming pain of her headache swiftly assured her that she couldn’t have risen from bed, no matter how hard she’d tried. It must’ve been another aspect of whatever curse the Beast had placed on her.
Finally, sleep came, and with it, that disturbing dream. But this time, it was different. Those figures and voices, once distant and nondescript…
Now she could see them. Now she could hear them.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
I actually finished this story. I actually did it. Motivation to write this whole story came and went constantly, but I honestly do believe it's my best work. It's most certainly my longest.
I really enjoyed making this whole thing, and I'm very happy to see it finally finished. I'm also happy so many people liked this story, and followed it for so long.
Thank you all for sticking with my indefensibly slow speed, and without further ado, I present the grand finale to The Journey to Arnwick...
Finale Part III - Bravery
“The End has come
Armageddon, the Eternal Silence
The Fell Legions have risen
Guided by our herald, and the Black Prophecy
This world will be awash with blood and fire and fear”
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Night came, and with it, the army of the dead.
They descended upon the town as they had many times before, a legion of savage monsters, a veritable tide of rotten flesh strewn with intermittent teeth and claws. Bounding through the trees were the nimblest of them. At their forefront, a vanguard of creatures like living walls of meat, prepared to absorb arrows and destroy barricades. Standing atop goliath creatures were two necromancers, converts from Arnwick, to oversee the annihilation of the problematic “heroes” rising within this little village.
It was a colossal horde, unlike any they’d seen before. Each face- each vile, undead simulacrum of a face- was a unique nightmare. Together, the visage alone was enough to bring grown men and women to their knees. Arnwick was not too distant a town, many of the villagers knew people there. The Beast had been quite careful to leave just enough of its victims intact to identify.
“Oh God, I knew him, I’d recognize that scraggly beard anywhere...”
The twisted sights of old friends…
“That ratty old coat… Is that? No… ”
Loved ones and family
“Tiff! What in God’s name did they… Oh, sister, I swear I’ll put you out of your misery.”
All misshapen and violated.
All actions meant to terrify, to frighten the defenders into surrender, to kill the warrior spirit the heroes had tried so fervently to unearth in them. The heroes- Tabitha, holy warrior and peerless swordswoman; Eliza, brilliant mage and alchemist; Alma, cunning slayer of monsters; and Hazel, a brave and innocent soul- had done all they could for them, and now stood as sentinels, ready to fight and die for them. They’d dressed them as warriors, armed them like warriors…
But only the sight of the Beast’s machinations, his horrific mockeries of the living, ignited their souls, and set their hearts ablaze.
“Vengeance for Arnwick!!” Someone cried.
“For the ones we lost!!” Another called.
“Prepare to die, demon!!” The crowd began to chant and call both rallying cries and scathing taunts.
Zalacay, an Archdemon, the Beast of Arnwick, Dark Herald and a master of terror, had made a mistake. He’d shown his victims the face of death, he let them know it, understand it. He left them with nothing to fear.
Frightened civilians had prepared to face the dead, but it would be warriors who would meet them in battle.
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The flesh walls, riddled with arrows and doused in alchemical fire, collapsed shortly after they broke the initial barricade. One was felled even beforehand, collapsing and impaling itself upon the palisade it was meant to smash. It was all the same to the dead, as they clambered atop its malformed body and joined the battle.
At the forefront, the strongest fighters broke the charge of the undead. Tabitha foremost among them, she stood further out than any, expertly cleaving apart any challengers. There were many more of the creatures than she was accustomed to fighting, but she swallowed her fear, and devoted herself to the art of slaying.
By her side was the woman who’d stood with her during the last siege. Unbeknownst to Tabitha- not that she would’ve even acknowledged it- The woman had soiled herself quite badly in anticipation of the fight. When the army of the dead was nothing more than howls and roars in the distance, the dreadful anxiety had overwhelmed her, and her bowels had messily voided themselves. Wet filth ran all down the backs of her legs, and sat in a sizable mound in her panties. When the time for fighting came, she jumped into action, skewering ghoul after ghoul with deadly precision, valiantly trying to ignore the brown, fetid ruin of her backside.
She slew and slew, but their numbers seemed endless. They sensed her weakness, or perhaps their master did, and they focused their violent fury upon her. The tide of the dead smashed into her. She swung and thrust her blade, but was so beset by the dead that she lost her grip, and her sword was carried away, embedded in the still-moving corpse of an Arnwick denizen. She fell on her back, claws and teeth tearing into her. Her punches and kicks did nothing to push them back. She screamed, in equal parts pain and terror.
A muffled voice shouted above her, and the ghoul above her face was suddenly decapitated. Tabitha kicked the body aside like a ragdoll, and set to work killing the others. With her life saved, she began scrambling backwards. She could feel urine leaving her body, soaking into her pants as she did so. She left a trail of wetness on the ground, until another defender came to aid, lifting her up and pulling her to safety.
“Fall back!” Tabitha commanded. Their initial defensive line had been completely annihilated, and she could see that many of the protectors had already perished. With the archers covering their retreat, the vanguard pulled back, past a series of wooden stake walls and spiked barricades.
--
Along the rooftops, the archers stood. Unlike the last siege, this time they were accompanied by guardians to defend them if the more agile undead assailed their position. “They’re clear! Use the vials, now!!” Matthew called to his companions. Each of the dozen archers, a crossbow-wielding Hazel among them, withdrew a vial of fiery orange-and-blue liquid. Eliza’s instructions had been clear enough- just shake vigorously, remove the cork, and throw. Hazel struggled to uncork hers quickly, and was briefly stunned by the brilliant glare of alchemical fire as the ground that had been ceded to the undead was engulfed in flame. Potentially hundreds of the Beast’s army had been incinerated in the blink of an eye.
… And Hazel had still not uncorked hers. She shook off the awe at the sight of the explosions, and readied hers for use. “Hazel, look out!” Alma, who’d volunteered to be her guardian, shouted. She looked up in alarm just in time to see a malformed ghoul leap from a tree towards her, baring its fangs and screeching. Alma interposed herself between them, her good arm wielding a silver dagger. The screeching monster impacted her protector, and though she plunged the weapon into its heart, killing it instantly, the force still threw her back, colliding with Hazel. They both grunted and collapsed, the vial of fire falling with a sharp clink onto the rooftop next to them.
“You all right?” Alma asked, shoving the body off of the both of them.
“Yes, I’m-” the sizzling and smoking vial beside her stole her attention, “Alma! Alma!!” She pushed her friend up, and they both rushed to get away from it. Looking over the side of the roof, they saw only the eager maws of the dead. While Hazel tried to think where they could go that would be safe, she was tackled. She panicked briefly before realizing that it was Alma on top of her. The monster hunter was shielding her with her own body. She would have protested, but the vial detonated in a fantastic eruption of fire and force. It rattled and shook her bones, and the heat scathed her skin. She whimpered and curled in on herself. She hated that Alma was putting herself in such danger on her behalf, but the primal fear in her at that moment wanted nothing more than to curl up and have the stronger woman protect her.
As she lay on her side, curled into the fetal position, her bladder let loose. Hot piss flooded her groin, staining her left thigh. The wetness spread across the front and back of her leg, and pooled underneath her, soaking into the bottom of her shirt, as well. Alma, poised over her, had noticed the wet sensation when it reached her own knees, and pitied her friend.
“Hazy… ” Alma began, but found her voice choked and strained, “You hurt?”
Hazel’s ears heard only ringing, and she looked upwards at her friend, wild fear still in her eyes.
Alma coughed when she tried to speak more, accidentally spitting a splash of blood onto Hazel’s shoulder. She’d taken the brunt of the explosion, and her innards hadn’t appreciated it. After another short coughing fit, her voice finally broke through, “Don’t worry, Hazy We’re-” The sound of splitting wood interrupted her, and she looked at the roof they sat upon. The fire bottle had vaporized a large percentage of the building, and much of the rest of it had been set ablaze in impossibly hot fire. Now what remained of the roof threatened to give way under their combined weight.
“Shit,” Was all Alma had time to say before the wood gave way, and the two women tumbled down, Hazel screaming as they fell. Alma wrapped her good arm around her, and tried to cushion the fall. When they impacted the hard ground, littered with splintered wood, shattered glass and flaming debris, Alma gasped in agony.
“Ahh, fuck!” She writhed in pain. Hazel finally came to her senses, shaking off the last of the shock from the explosion. She stood, and crouched beside the injured huntress.
“No, no, no! Alma, where are you hurt? Is-is anything broken?”
“Landed on my back, bad arm hit the ground, too,” She answered through gritted teeth. She was pretty sure her back had been perforated by glass shrapnel from the bomb, and then by splinters, too.
“Don’t worry, I’ll… ” She looked to the ruin of the home’s front door. It was a veritable wall of flame, and beyond it was a sea of the dead. “I’ll… ” She didn’t know what to do.
“Hazy… crates in the corner,” Alma wheezed out, “drag me behind them, we’ll hide until we can move.”
“Uh, right! Good idea,” She lifted Alma under her arms, and did her best to ignore her friend’s groans of pain. She propped Alma against the wall, letting her sit and rest for a moment. Hiding behind the crates, the sound of the dead finally reached them. It was horrific, wet gurgling growls and rabid snarling. A sound so vile and overpowering, Hazel wondered if she would ever hear anything else again. She clutched the crossbow in shaking hands. For the first time, she noticed her wet pants. Her crotch was soaked, and her left thigh, front and back, was saturated.
Alma cursed her injury, and the fact that Hazel was in so much danger because of it. None of her wounds stung as badly as the agony of not being able to protect her. She clutched her silver dagger, and silently prayed that nothing would find them. The shock and fear of the fight had also awoken a familiar need in her abdomen. She groaned, feeling the need to empty her bowels present itself. The fight was very, very far from over, and she knew there was no way she would leave it with clean underwear. It was better to end the discomfort of it immediately, as she’d long ago grown accustomed to fighting whilst needing to change her panties. Indeed, her panties were already wet, as she’d been leaking for the last several minutes.
With just a light push, her release made contact with the cloth of her underwear. That simple movement put her well past the point of no return, and the rest of her mess began to meet her panties. “Hazy… sorry… ” She muttered without explanation.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” She quickly replied, clearly not grasping just what Alma was referring to. As the monster hunter’s load filled the seat of her panties with soft mush, both a muddy, crackling sound and a foul smell filled the air. “O-oh,” Hazy blushed and averted her eyes. “W-well, hey, I need to change, too,” She gripped the large piss stain on the front of her trousers. The two of them quietly chuckled, as Alma continued relieving herself in her pants.
--
Eliza had been given the rather inglorious task of guarding the safehouse. Many of the residents of the town were simply not physically fit to serve as soldiers. The young and old, and those that either couldn’t be sufficiently armed or weren’t fit to wield arms waited inside. Eliza found herself staring longingly out the window, at the horde of undead, and wished she was there, being torn limb from limb, rather than stuck in the cursed safehouse with all the panicking, crying fools.
The large room, formerly a town hall, now a hastily fortified shelter, stunk terribly. With even a cursory scan of the room, it was perfectly evident why. Eliza looked to a young woman, whose gray trousers were drenched in her own urine, from the top to the bottom. She stood bowlegged, and refused to sit down, despite the free chair near her, indicating she’d shat herself, too. Not too far from her, a somewhat older woman sat against the wall, holding her legs close. A brown discoloration and a telling bulge were present on her rear. When a foul smell had first struck her, she was the first soiled person she had spotted; Eliza had initially given the woman credit for not wetting herself as well, though as she looked at the rapidly growing puddle underneath her, she had to retract that praise. A man, the one Hazel had stopped from attacking the bartender was a victim to fear as well. As he looked out the window, his bladder gave way. He slowly shifted his gaze to the rapidly growing stains racing down his legs, and spilling out around his feet.
Indeed, nearly half the people in the shelter stood either in or near a pool of piss, and just as many walked with a wide stride so as not to upset the loads in their pants. Perhaps Eliza just felt galvanized after the success of their prior ritual, for all she could think was, What children! They haven’t even breached the doors, yet. For my sake, soil yourselves after I’ve died, so I don’t have to smell it!
A creak of wood above them silenced all within the shelter. Another creak, then another, and another. Footsteps. One of the leaping ghouls had made it to the shelter. Eliza’s heart began to race, for she knew the implications of that. Alma and Tabitha had positioned the archers in key locations to protect the shelter, and offer suppressive volleys into the dead. If they’d reached the shelter, then all of the archer nests had been overrun. Without them, they could be flanked and surrounded, and had no vision on the horde.
That alone may have meant that the battle was already decided, and Zalacay had won.
“We’re gonna die!” A woman behind Eliza shrieked, the sudden burst of noise nearly making the witch jump out of her skin. She turned to see the culprit, and saw a crying woman on her knees, a spreading stain on the front of her blue skirt, and a steaming puddle around her knees.
“Quiet!!” She whispered through gritted teeth, but it was too late. An animal-like hissing broke the silence, and the footsteps grew more and more numerous. Guttural snarling from the one who’d found them seemed to draw more, and before long, it sounded as though there must’ve been a hundred monsters swarming the building. With a loud grunt, one of the ghouls began banging on the rooftop. Following suit, the others began slamming into the wood with all their might. It rained dust and splinters onto the survivors. Near where the original ghoul had begun assaulting the structure, a rotted hand burst through, broken and sliced by the old wood, but it broke through nonetheless.
Now would be an appropriate time to lose control of your bowels, she thought. There was numbness in her legs, and she quickly reached back to feel her own rear, and verify that she had not yet taken her own advice. “Uh, e-everyone! Get to the basement, now!!” She called out, though the people were too stunned to move. She drew the sword they’d given her, and it made a harsh rasp as it scraped its scabbard; the sound caught the attention of the citizens. “Basement! Now!!” She barked once again, though this time with results. The door to the basement was thrown open, and the crowd of frightened, soiled people ran inside.
Eliza watched the ghoul as it continued to smash apart the wood with no regard for the fidelity of its own body. Blood and chunks of maimed flesh fell through the burgeoning hole just as much as shattered wood did. Once the people were all through the door, Eliza moved to follow after them, so she could defend the narrow stairwell. Just as she reached it, seconds before she would’ve closed the door, she heard sniffling behind her. Looking for the source, she spotted another terrified woman hiding under a table.
She was on her hands and knees, Eliza could immediately see the stains between her legs. “Come on!” Eliza shouted, “Come on!!” when she did not budge. She was shaking like a leaf, and it dawned on Eliza that she was completely paralyzed in fear. Sheathing her sword, the witch ran over to her. Having lost her patience, she pushed the table over, revealing the woman's hiding place. She squealed, and Eliza grabbed her arm and forced her up. As forcefully as the little witch’s physique would allow, she pulled the frightened woman to the door, and shoved her inside. The ghouls had just widened the gap enough that they could pass through, evidenced by the spent carcass of one of them falling to the ground with a meaty splat. As she hurried the woman inside, she grimaced when one of her pushing hands contacted the woman's rear end, squishing the mess which had been present there. A couple other survivors dragged her inside, and more still hoisted barrels and furniture up the stairs, preparing to barricade the door.
Hardly anybody inside could fight, and most of the ones that could had no weapon. Some had ripped the legs off of chairs, or grabbed any sharp silverware. The ghouls charged the door, banging on it, slamming against it. Before long, they would break through the meager fortifications, and Eliza was confident she would only be able to kill one or two of them before they overwhelmed her, too. If the others did not prevail soon, no one in the shelter had any hope.
--
The defenders that hadn’t fallen in combat were being driven back. The dead gathered around the town, encircled it, surrounded and swarmed them. They were impossibly numerous, and Tabitha realized all too late that this meant Arnwick was not the only town or city to be consumed. The Beast was fast, unbelievably fast, and had built such a colossal force in such little time. In the furthest recesses of her mind, she understood what this meant: their fight was hopeless. Even if they had twice as many soldiers, the dead would still outnumber them to an incalculable degree. That the Beast waited so long, kept Arnwick alive when it had such an army… it wanted something.
But Tabitha was trained as a witch hunter, trained to withstand their manipulations and mind-altering spells. She filtered these thoughts from her mind, she focused solely on the battle in front of her.
The townspeople she’d defended already knew Tabitha was a peerless warrior, but those still alive, who could see how she stood in defiance of the Beast’s army, could not believe what they witnessed. Tabitha, gore-splattered, stood in the center of a bloodbath. Hundreds of ghouls lay at her feet, eviscerated, decapitated, maimed and destroyed. Each one singed and immolated by the magical properties of her sword. As she whirled about in a flurry of strikes, sparks and billows of flame flying from her sword, each motion felling an opponent, it seemed even the walking corpses were terrified of her. The army of the dead advanced around her, careful not to stray too close. Indeed, she suspected that the ones engaging her were not doing so in an attempt to kill her, but rather just to keep her occupied so the others could pass.
She’d barely even noticed, but the enemy’s numbers were waning sharply. They had initially seemed so overwhelmingly huge that she felt it impossible to defeat them. Now, though… She hated the little witch, but credit was due: her plan had worked stupendously. Their organization, their weapons, their special equipment, the timing of it all- the Beast had marched his army into a slaughter. Not that it would be an easy victory- not that victory was even assured. The town was in absolute ruins. Tabitha had been so inundated with monsters to slay that she’d completely neglected to take stock of their defenses, but she had no doubt many, likely most of their defenders had fallen.
She paid it no mind, though. All that mattered was the death of the archdemon. Even if every single of them perished here, his death would forbid the calamity from spreading any further.
“Are you truly so desperate to find me, child?”
The voice froze her breath and her muscles. Sanguine and cold, dripping with depraved delight. She’d been stopped mid-swing, her blade only inches from the neck of a ghoul. But… the ghoul had stopped, as well. In fact, they no longer pressed the attack against her. They surrounded her, and just watched. With a savage grunt, she completed the swing, felling the ghoul. The sounds of slavering fiends and clamoring fighters behind her did not abate, the fight raged on.
“Show yourself, abomination!” Tabitha called into the night, voice shaking and ragged.
Something in her mind, a sensation, gave her a silent answer. She did not know how she knew, but she knew suddenly what she would see when she turned around. Abject terror flooded into her. She had known that the demon would make an appearance, but even so, now the time was nigh, and her body had been frozen in fear. Wetness cascaded down her legs, drenching her pants. Noisily, a puddle formed in the crimson dirt below her.
“Turn around,” The Beast commanded. Tabitha found herself unable to refuse. She slowly came to face him, gazing upon the unholy gargantuan. As she’d observed before, he was like the dreadful union of man and vulture. Easily twelve feet in height, composed of spindly limbs with taloned fingers. An avian head with a cruel beak. Massive wings that moved to encircle the both of them. Her heart didn’t stop, though she wondered if that was a blessing or a curse. The witch’s charm worked. Her sword clattered in her hand, and a new warmth settled into her panties. The mass there grew and grew, until she’d filled her trousers substantially.
“So difficult to resist your fear, isn’t it?” She could sense the monster’s jubilation. Beyond being humiliating, her wetting and soiling herself indicated that she was terrified. To a demon, that meant she was malleable. “Give in.” The edges of her vision darkened, her thoughts became clouded. The sounds of fighting had grown dim and distant. “Come with me, little hunter. Fulfill your purpose, and I promise that you’ll be free from fear.”
She tried to answer, to reject him, but was too numb. She only babbled half words and sounds. The Beast reached out with a huge, clawed hand. In a surprisingly gentle motion, he clasped her hand. “Be the first. Our champion. Our guiding light. The Black Prophecy await- AAAAGGHHH!!”
The Beast howled in fury and pain, and Tabitha gritted her teeth, twisting the holy blade she’d driven into him. With a swipe, he knocked the sword from her hand, and it clattered to the ground below. A demonic force gripped her, and held her in the air. Perhaps intentionally, the wetness of her pants and the mass in her panties were pushed and held against her, as if to remind her of her fear.
The wound, a jagged gash in the monster’s chest, mended itself before her very eyes. “Worry not, little one: I forgive you.” He leaned in closer, his rotted face only an inch from her nose, “Perhaps I am being too hasty. The choice was made on your behalf, some time ago. You do not yet know that you are willing. You will learn.” The force holding her aloft dissipated, and she descended into the waiting arms of several ghouls. “To Arnwick, we have one final act of service to complete.” Obediently, the ghouls followed after their master, vanishing into the night.
--
Unbeknownst to Tabitha or the Beast, Hazel and Alma had been watching and listening. The swarm of undead around them had abated enough to allow them to begin their escape. Though they’d only made it as far as the window before Alma shoved them both to the ground. She’d witnessed the arrival of Zalacay. While they huddled together and eavesdropped, Alma, ever courageous, rose to a crouch and peered out the shattered window.
The monster hunter gasped sharply, and ducked back down, on her knees. Her eyes were shut, and Hazel immediately recognized the familiar sound of piss flowing into pants. Sure enough, Alma’s brown pants, already host to a bulging mound in the rear, darkened as sheaths of urine coursed down her thighs. The puddle grew between her legs, and a strong stream of her piss flowed through the fabric at her crotch, loudly adding to the pool. Hazel blushed for her friend’s sake, and shimmied away slightly when the puddle nearly reached her.
“They took her,” Alma spoke after taking a moment to collect herself.
“I heard,” Hazel answered, “Arnwick… looks like we’ll be making it there after all, huh?” Hazel joked, but she could not hide the shaking of her voice, the tears and sobs within her.
“We need Eliza. We weren’t planning on the Beast doing this.” The two of them hesitantly stood, both being so familiar with the sensation of pissed pants that both of them had largely forgotten about their “matching” trousers.
With Tabitha’s abduction, their greatest bulwark was gone. The last of the survivors had withdrawn to the town hall. The dead swarmed its walls and roof like flies. But if they were so intent on besieging the building, then it meant Eliza had successfully been defending it. She was alive. “Grab the crossbow, Hazy, this may be our last chance.”
Hazel took a deep breath, and readied the crossbow. She knew they were walking out to face a veritable army, but somehow, she wasn’t afraid. Alma clutched her silver dagger, and took a position close to her. They stepped back out into the night. By then, almost all of the dead had gathered around the safehouse, and were ripping the building apart. It was impossible to miss, so Hazel simply fired indiscriminately into the horde gathered outside the doors. Each bolt struck and vanquished a ghoul, though they both knew she didn’t have the ammo to do all that much to the horde.
The sound of mad gibbering filled their ears, and soon a hasty scampering joined it. They spun, and Alma jumped into action just in time to slay a crawler before it reached them. But then there was more, another came rushing in. “Shit, shit, shit!” Alma muttered, sprinting back over, “Keep shooting, Hazy! I’ll protect you!” She did as she was told. The ghouls had begun to notice the two, and several members of the horde broke off, and charged towards them. The brush around them shook and rattled with stalking fiends. Alma fought them back as much as possible, but they would soon be overwhelmed.
A ghoul appeared suddenly, in front of Hazel’s face, it’s ruinous maw open for a bite. She screamed, and tried to heft the large crossbow in time, only for an arrow to pierce the monster’s skull. “I’m here, you two, don’t worry!” Came a man’s voice- Matthew.
“Let’s finish this!” Someone else, a woman, shouted. She glanced over, and witnessed Alma being aided by the woman who’d stood beside Tabitha. With their numbers doubled, the dead were suddenly being held at bay. Hazel and Matthew continued to deplete the horde’s numbers, but Hazel knew it would not last. They had not nearly enough bolts and arrows to succeed. She glanced around in desperation, and her eyes settled on something. A fallen archer, and something glittering on his belt…
A glowing orange vial.
--
Eliza and the survivors she was protecting had done everything in their power to seal the passage into the basement, but it would not hold for long. The bravest and strongest among them had grabbed anything that could be swung as a weapon, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, ready to receive their oncoming guests. Although, calling her comrades such a thing was rather generous, since they were the “bravest and strongest” of the most cowardly and frail people left in town.
Eliza looked to her right, and there stood a woman somewhat taller than herself. She clutched a small dagger in one hand, and wore quite a fierce scowl. She was shaking, though- nearly trembling. Her pants darkened suddenly between her legs as her bladder relaxed. A wet spot, only slightly larger than a coin appeared. It grew, doubling in size. Then it grew again, and again. Well, credit where credit is due: she’s at least trying to hold her water. As the sounds of slavering ghouls grew louder and closer, the woman’s trousers grew wetter. In a matter of seconds, the urine stains had nearly reached her shoes.
To her left was a man, whom she recalled hearing about during the creation of the battle plan. The poor fellow seemed to have quite an intense fear of the things the Beast created. He was known to be paralyzed with fear during each attack, hence why he stayed in the safehouse. Yet, here he was, prepared to fight and probably die. He wasn’t completely cornered- not yet, at least- there were still people for him to hide behind. There must be someone in here he wants to protect, no matter the danger to himself. At least he’s found some courage. Her thoughts were silenced when she noticed the brown foulness seeping into the rear of his pants. There was only a faint bulge, but the brown stains began to flow down the backs of his legs. He, too, was shaking.
Rabid snarling outside the door signalled that the time had come. Wood splintered, and reanimated bodies smashed against the barricade. They’d done all they could to reinforce the door, but it wasn’t much. Another slam, and the wall of debris shuddered. Somewhere behind her, Eliza heard the disgusting sounds of someone soiling themself. Another slam, and the barricade shifted, beginning to lurch. Eliza stood with her sword drawn, trying to take careful, measured breaths. The pit of fear in her stomach and tingling numbness in her limbs had been there for some time, but she noted that they had been joined by a curious deflating sensation. Another slam, and the defence began to crumble. “Please!! Please don’t kill us!” Someone screamed, before devolving into a fit of crying and sobbing. Be silent, you frightened children!!
A thought occurred to her, and she looked down at her own legs; she believed that she’d just figured out what that strange sensation was. As predicted, a puddle surrounded her boots, just finishing up its expansion as the last of her pee struck the ground. The front of her dress was wet, and cold droplets fell from the hem like rain. She didn’t even know that she’d been wetting herself- her focus had been stolen by other matters. Having realized her accident, she was able to detect the sensation of soaked panties, and the piss coating her thighs and filling up her boots. Her hand clutching the sword shook, and she almost couldn’t even lift the weapon. A sad, bitter smile crossed her lips, Yup. Frightened children, the lot of us…
The barricade was destroyed by the onslaught, and the first of the ghouls rampaged through. Eliza swallowed hard, grit her teeth, and raised the sword. Perhaps viewing the witch as the runt of the litter, it made for her. It launched forward in a brutal charge, impaling itself on the sword, but not dying. It swung wildly, its claws raking across Eliza’s face. Her right cheek was rent open, and she screeched in pain. The monster’s unholy strength far eclipsed her own, and she was overwhelmed immediately. They fell to the ground, and Eliza covered her head with her arms as the ghoul unleashed its rage upon her.
“Eliza! Help her!” Someone cried out, and after a few painful seconds, the beating ended. A number of the people who’d been hiding in the back had come to her rescue, pulling the ghoul off of her and bludgeoning it with a length of wood. The others had managed to just barely hold out against the horde, and it appeared no one had any life-threatening injuries.
The ghouls continued to pour through the gap they’d created, until one of them began his foray through the destroyed barricade, only for something on the other side to pull him back. There was a yelp, and then silence, as the last of the ghouls was slain. Eliza could hardly believe it when she saw a human face peering down at them- Hazel’s.
--
Hazel took a young woman’s hand, and helped her through the decimated barrier. She was the last person to leave the basement, and, upon seeing that she’d thoroughly ruined the front and back of her skirt, Hazel could say with some confidence that a majority of the survivors had had at least one type of accident in their pants- herself among them. She ran her hand over the lopsided stain that almost exclusively covered only one leg. It had nearly dried, but the stain was still unmistakeable.
Around her, people were tending to injuries both grievous and minute. Many sought or provided comfort. Many could only sit in silent horror at the devastation surrounding them. In all the war stories, everyone always celebrates and cheers when the battle is won…
But there was no celebration here. They had not won. They had survived. Granted, even that was a feat of almost miraculous significance. Hazel gaped at the wall of the safehouse that had been incinerated by the firebomb she’d thrown. It was pure luck that the archer hadn’t been able to use the bomb before meeting his fate.
“Well… It worked, Eliza.” Alma clutched the charm pendants the witch had made for them. Indeed, she’d stared directly at Zalacay, and not died.
“Excellent,” Eliza winced, speaking clearly not being pleasant with her new scars. “All that’s left is to strike Zalacay where he’s weak.”
“What about Tabitha? Why did he take her?” Hazel chimed in.
“I… I have no idea, I’m afraid. He must need her for something.”
“We have to help her!” Hazel spoke with determination.
“We will,” Alma replied.
“Indeed… ” Eliza seemed to be rapidly progressing through a train of thought, “Taking her may have been a grave mistake. He didn’t ensure that we perished here. Without him, his forces were defeated, and now he has only a small contingent left at his side. I’d planned to confront him with an exorcism during this fight, but I never got the chance.”
“But now we have a perfect opportunity,”
Hazel felt a newfound strength well within her, and lifted the crossbow in a display of determination. “All right, my friends… Let’s finish this, and save Tabitha.”
“Agreed,” Eliza tacitly replied, though she smiled back.
“Hear, hear!” Alma cheered.
The three of them turned, and began their trek towards Arnwick- to the end of their roads. As they reached the edge of town, Hazel’s foot struck something. She looked down, and spotted Tabitha’s holy sword, discarded on the ground.
--
“Arnwick,” proclaimed the letters wrought in an elegant iron script, forming an arch. It must have once looked lovely, but now was profaned with gore and viscera that hung like banners. The buildings in the small city were mostly rubble, but they were quite similar to the arch: soaked in blood and decorated with banners of organs and fleshy effigies. The stench of the place was unbearable, to the degree that Hazel could only figure that it was completely unnatural, as if the air were poisoned. Growths like veins broke through the cobblestone path, running towards some central point deeper inside.
“Uh, eeuugh… ” Hazel’s stomach turned, and she recoiled at the brutal assault on her senses.
“Be strong, Hazy, just a little more,” Alma’s voice was strong, determined.
Hazel had never completed her move to Arnwick, but there was a strange melancholy that came with seeing it in such ruin. Naturally, the tragic calamity that had taken place there tugged at her heartstrings, but it was something different that troubled her. She could picture the place before the end, and the kind of life she could’ve had there. It was the lost possibility, the happy lives that never were that weighed on her mind. The Beast would pay for this atrocity.
The walk through Arnwick was startlingly, unnervingly peaceful. Not a single ghoul attacked them. Near as they could tell, they were not even being watched. She did not like it; she would’ve preferred if they’d been swarmed by monsters the instant they arrived.
The vein led them to a disturbing sight. The veins formed a large, circular basin in the town square. The basin was filled to the top with blood, in which swirled a murky black substance. Many ghouls sat in a circle around the ritual basin, kneeling in some sort of reverence. On the other side stood Tabitha, stripped down to her heavily soiled underwear. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, unthinking and unmoving. And behind her…
Behind her hovered the giant, corvid form of an Archdemon. “At last… ” He began in his slow voice, “I’ve gotten to know each of you quite well, by now. Shall we speak, or shall the feeding hour come early?”
Hazel’s body locked up. As described, Zalacay radiated some kind of power, one that instilled mortals with incomprehensible fear. Urine spilled out into her already wet panties, refreshing the stains on her legs. What little hadn’t escaped her bladder earlier certainly did, then. Beside her, Alma would have relieved herself into her clothes, but she’d already emptied herself completely during the battle.
Eliza’s body, on the other hand, had more to give. Her panties tented, then tented further and sagged under the weight of a completely solid mess. The back of her dress was pushed back, and she had to grip her underwear to prevent them from falling down her legs. Once the hard log broke off, the rest of her mess was softer, and piled up around it. In only a short few seconds, the mess in her panties had gone from a sideways tower to a mound. The witch had never made such a mess of herself in her entire life.
“You’ve come to know such terror, opposing the inevitable in such a way,” the Archdemon continued, “Such pain and loss. All I ask is your loyalty, and you will have you desire- you will be free of pain and failure and fear. You will be safe. You have my word.”
“Your words mean nothing, fiend!” Alma shouted.
“Tabitha! Get away from him! We’ll protect you!” Hazel called to their addled friend, but she did not seem to hear them.
“You will not see reason? Such a pity. Children, you may feast.” With a dismissive wave of his hand, the remaining ghouls jumped to their feet, and sprinted forward with a ferocity they had not seen before.
But they were ready. It was not Hazel, but Eliza who hefted the crossbow, and loosed a bolt into a charging undead. Alma sprinted, and cut down the ghouls that sought to kill Eliza. Hazel drew a weapon that was new to her, but filled her with a divine purpose. Wielding Tabitha’s lost sword, she struck down the nearest ghoul, marvelling at the way the blade passed through its body, cutting perfectly, and leaving a streak of flame in the air. Even hurt and exhausted as they were, Zalacay’s ghouls proved no match for them.
“Ha ha! I would’ve been utterly disappointed if you fell so easily. Tabitha, begin. I will see to our uninvited guests.” The witch hunter mutely strode forward, into the unholy pool of blood. Little embers rose from the basin, filling the air with a dark energy. Spreading his rotted wings to their full length, Zalacay took flight, then descended in the blink of an eye, smashing into the ground between Tabitha and her friends.
“I hope your plan was more sophisticated than it seems to be… ”
“I think… ” Eliza spoke, fighting through the terror, “You’ll agree that it was… Zalacay.”
The Archdemon recoiled, both in shock and pain. He made a confused noise, but Eliza gave him no reprieve. She produced her grimoire, and began to read from it. It was an arcane incantation that Hazel did not understand in the slightest, but even she could tell that it was distinct from the harsh, demonic tongue she’d seen before. It was softer, yet filled with conviction. Whatever it was, Hazel was willing to bet that it was a holy chant.
An exorcism.
Zalacay stumbled backwards, little cracks formed in his mottled flesh, and a brilliant light shone through. He was stunned and weakened, Hazel could feel his deathly aura lifting, her senses returned. But behind him, Tabitha had reached the center of the pool. She lifted a knife, and poised it to stab into her own heart. “Tabitha, no!! Just wait a little longer!” Hazel screamed. She didn’t know if it was her words, or Tabitha’s own iron will, but the edge of the dagger stopped just before it could break skin.
Seizing the opportunity, Alma rushed into the pool, and tackled the woman with all her might. They both crashed down into the crimson liquid. “No, No! You will not impede my glorious work! The Blakc Prophecy has come at last!” Zalacay screeched. Even through the holy force of an exorcism empowered by his true name, he lunged for Eliza. His large, taloned hand swiped, and the shock stopped the witch’s chanting. She backstepped, and her life was saved by it, as the talons shredded the book from which she read, but missed her. In his other hand, a black and green ball of fire formed, and he reared back to throw it.
Holy sword in hand, Hazel came to her friend’s defense, and severed the arm holding the flame. Unlike the ghouls, the blade did not carve through Zalacay easily, and the effort it took to push the blade forward was enormous, but it was not wasted. The arm fell harmlessly to the ground, eliciting an agonized scream from the Archdemon. But he was not dead, and Hazel knew that he would need to land only a single hit to kill either of them. Do what Alma would do…
In the pool, Alma wrestled with Tabitha, fighting to take the knife from her. It pained her to admit, but Tabitha would be a better fighter even if Alma’s arm weren’t broken. They rolled and battled in the pool, Tabitha constantly pulling just ahead. She couldn’t win, but she did recall what Eliza had told them: that Zalacay’s control over the witch hunter created a mutual bridge, one that could be the Beast’s downfall. She got off her, allowing both of them to stand, so Tabitha could hear her.
“Listen to me, Tabitha! We’ve come to save you! That monster is all that’s left, now!” The witch hunter’s arm slackened just a bit, and she once again refrained from plunging the dagger into her own heart. “The townspeople survived, Tabitha! They’re alive! We won, we beat his horde!”
“W-won?” Tabitha muttered in a pitifully weak voice.
“We journeyed to a dark place, learned that thing’s true name, and Eliza is binding him right now! He’ll be exorcised in mere moments, and we’ll be free! Please, Tabitha, come to your senses!”
The hand that gripped the knife relaxed some, then more and more, until the blade fell and splashed in the sanguine pool below them. She laughed meekly, and took a stumbling step towards Alma. Another step, and she fell forward, before being caught by Alma’s good arm. “Heh, knew you’d finish this… ”
As the witch hunter seemed to fall into unconsciousness, another unseen blow smote the Archdemon. His aura grew dimmer and dimmer, until it was only a whisper. “Mortal infidels… This day was prophesied a thousand lifetimes ago… You will not stop it.”
“You lost, demon,” Hazel had never felt so galvanized, so powerful. She ran, and jumped into the air. She collided with Zalacay’s disintegrating form, and drove the holy sword into his chest. He made a sound, like he was gasping. He shuddered, and the lights breaking through his skin grew blindingly bright. Hazel shielded her eyes, but felt some unknown force throw her into the air. She struck something when she landed, and the whiteness that filled her vision went black.
--
“Hazy. Hazy! Are you hurt?” A concerned voice asked.
She opened her eyes as if she were finally waking from a long and terrible nightmare. Both Alma and Eliza stood over her, and she wasn’t sure which of them had just spoken. It honestly could’ve been either of them. “Is it… Is it over?” She almost didn’t dare ask.
“He’s dead. We did it, Hazy.” Eliza answered in a choked voice. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a wide smile crossed her lips. It was the happiest Hazel had ever seen the witch be.
“Tabitha?”
“She woke up a moment ago,” Alma motioned to a spot nearby, “She’s confused, and feels unwell, but she’s alive and kicking.”
Hazel joined Eliza in crying more than a few tears of joy. She still felt a little delusional from all that had happened, and more or less uttered the first thing to come to her mind, “Can you imagine… If I’d just chosen to move somewhere else… ”
They laughed, and helped her up. She very nearly fell right back down the instant she was on her feet. Her friends kept her stable, and she finally saw Tabitha. The proud woman must’ve been unhappy that Zalacay’s ritual had put her in such a state of undress. Tabitha seemed the sort to not want her underwear seen even when that underwear wasn’t filled with her own waste. A ragged bedsheet was draped over shoulders, giving her at least some measure of decency.
She fixed Hazel with a disbelieving stare, “Hazel… What you did is… Well, it’s unbelievable. That thing was going to use me to usher forth the greatest legion of demons this world would ever see. His ritual needed a holy warrior’s heart to be complete. It makes me sick to think of how long he’d been using me.”
“I’m just glad that you’re okay, Tabitha. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you everythi- Oh!” Hazel began to pat her sides, searching for Tabitha’s sword. “I need to give you back your… ”
Tabitha slowly shifted her head, looking upon the ashen, lifeless body of Zalacay. The sword jutted from his chest like a flag triumphantly planted on enemy ground. She walked forward, and ripped the weapon from the body. Walking back, she held it out to Hazel. “Take it. Keep it. You’ve more than earned it, my friend.”
“What? I couldn’t possibly- what about you? Don’t you need it?”
“I can use any sword, Hazel. I can kill witches with any old weapon. I can’t kill an Archdemon, though. This is my gift to you, as your friend; and something I bestow upon you, as a paladin offering you the greatest honor I can give.”
Hesitantly, she reached out, and took the blade. “I… Thank you, Tabitha.”
She nodded in reply, then turned to Eliza, “I won’t apologize for my treatment of you, Eliza. I will always regard your lot with due suspicion. But… if ever there was a witch that was good, you’re her. You saved us all, and for that, I thank you.”
“Ah, um, of course,” Eliza had clearly been caught off guard.
“And lastly, Alma,”
“Yes?”
“I’d be honored if you’d join me. My order must hear of this at once, and they will likely begin a colossal demon hunt. Your skill would be most welcome.”
“Ah. I’m sorry, Tabitha, but… ” She glanced at the others, “I’ve made a few promises I have to keep.”
“That is unfortunate, but I understand. All of you have done more than could ever have been expected of you. I have to leave now, but if you ever need me, seek me out in the witch hunters, I will come to your aid with a second thought. Farewell, my friends.”
They said their goodbyes, and parted ways. After a few more minutes, Hazel had finally regained enough strength to walk, and the trio chose a path leading out of Arnwick, and set out. They didn’t know where the path would lead, but they wanted very badly to leave Arnwick and its horrors behind them.
--
The sun broke through the gray blanket of clouds that had refused to leave since the beginning of their journey. So far, their walk through the forest had been entirely peaceful, not a monster in sight. They’d talked a little, but all of them were much too tired to hold any real dialogue.
Something strange happened as they walked, though. Hazel’s panties seemed to shift, and a dreadful and familiar sensation caressed her butt. She reached a hand back, and felt the burgeoning mess there. She was presently soiling herself, with absolutely no provocation. A soft load absolutely filled her underwear, forming an easily visible bulge in her trousers. “Um, oh my… ”
“Something the matter?” Alma asked with concern.
“Ah, I’ve, um, I’ve soiled myself,” She said in shock.
“Oh. Did you only just notice?” Eliza asked, “I did it, too; the second I saw him, I… Well, you know.”
“You probably did it when you jumped at the Beast like that. I certainly would have,” Alma added.
“No, I… Yeah, I suppose you two are probably right. Must’ve done it then.” She laughed a little, but she could feel herself still going in her panties. She elected to save a little face, since it made her seem less childish to have crapped herself while fighting an Archdemon. She didn’t understand why she just emptied her bowels, though. Perhaps she’d needed to relieve herself, but the numbness from that burst of light made her not notice until it was too late?
At any rate, she most certainly was not alone. Both her friends walking by her side carried similar loads in their pants. Poor Eliza still needed to grip her underwear to prevent them from falling. They would need to find a river or somewhere to wash themselves off before they stopped by any town.
Epilogue - Two years later
Hazel awoke, and sat upright in her bed. She stretched and yawned, then carefully rose from the bed, being as cautious as possible to not disturb Alma beside her. Looking out the window, it wasn’t quite light out, yet. That meant she had some time before the others awoke. Stepping outside the room, the merchant quietly lifted up her nightgown, and inspected her diaper. Wet, as usual. She grimaced, and made for her study, where her extras were kept.
Placing her hand on the door, a voice behind her startled her so much she had to cover her mouth to keep from making a noise that would wake Alma, “Oh, good morning, Hazy.” The surprise caused Hazel’s weakened bowels to void, soiling her diaper. The sound was loud and obvious, and her nightgown spared her the shame of having Eliza see her diaper brown and bulging, but she could still feel the mess filling the garment.
“Eliza!” She hissed in an angry whisper, “Please be more careful not to sneak up on me! Why are you even awake this early?” The witch was never awake this early.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry, Hazy! I was just finishing some research, and needed to use the lavatory.” Since the battle with Zalacay, they’d learned that the energy that had buffeted Hazel had done more than a few strange things to her. Her skin was a little paler; her eyes had turned a blue-green color; she had a tendency to sleep for abnormally long periods of time, reaching upwards of an entire day asleep. And finally, it had rendered her almost totally incontinent. An unfortunate price to pay for her heroics, but it was something she’d been learning to live with.
“Wait, ‘finishing’ some research? Eliza, have you been awake all night?”
“Oh, yes. I think I’m getting close to understanding all the changes that happened to you.” Eliza had been dedicatedly trying to undo these mutations since they were discovered, and Hazel was deeply appreciative of it. “And, er, speaking of changes… ” the witch covered her nose, sending a fairly unambiguous message. And just like that, my appreciation is gone.
“Yes. Of course,” She muttered through gritted teeth. She entered the lavatory, and began the laborious process of cleaning and changing herself. The slow, arduous process. The painfully snail-paced task. The activity which she normally could complete in a few short minutes, but this time seemed to take ages.
“Um, Hazel, will you be done, soon? I need to use the restroom as well.”
“Afraid not. A certain someone caused me to make quite a mess.”
Several more minutes passed, and the sounds of Eliza shuffling and shifting were music to her ears. Before long, there was a gasp, and then a sound of liquid splattering on the floor. She opened the door, completely changed and clean, and took in the sight of Eliza bent over, wetness running down her nightgown, and growing puddle around her feet.
“You’re more evil than Zalacay… ” She murmured.
Hazel smiled while Eliza set out to clean herself up, as well. As sweet as revenge was, Hazel had work to do. Two years ago to the day, they’d vanquished Zalacay and his minions, and saved the land. Hazel intended to ensure they enjoyed a lavish ceremony to commemorate the events that had brought the three of them together.
After the battle, Tabitha had found them, and she and her order presented them with a colossal sum of gold for their efforts. Alma and Hazel had grown… much closer than they’d ever been. They’d bought a house in an isolated place- where Alma could hunt, Hazel could farm, and Eliza could perform research in solitude. Not everything was perfect, though. Even beyond Hazel’s incontinence, which she figured must be the most humiliated curse in existence, there were rumors that more demons stalked the land. For two years, Hazel had wondered if they’d defeated Zalacay as thoroughly as they thought they had. Perhaps it was possible something had escaped before they ended the ritual.
But they were done with fighting. They enjoyed the lives they carved out for themselves, and had no intention of uprooting themselves. Hazel threw on some clothes that hid her diaper from sight, and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. She moved for town, mentally creating a checklist of foods to pick up. As she walked, the first rays of sunlight kissed her face, much like when they left Arnwick.
In the end, Arnwick really had been a new beginning for her. Certainly not in any way that she’d expected, but even through the pain and horror, she wouldn’t have changed her decisions even if she could. The people they’d become were so much more than people they were, and she wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
"Skywalker, Tano; To Vjun, go, you must. Sense the darkness there, I do."
Yoda raised his eyebrows and peered at Anakin. They must have shared some unspoken connection, because when Anakin did speak, it was in a strange tone.
"I understand."
Ahsoka, on the other hand, was distractedly cleaning her lightsaber's hilt.
"Ready when you are!"
The two bowed to Yoda, and left the room in single file.
----------------------------------------------------------
Anakin walked to his starfighter and began packing supplies, with Ahsoka following behind him.
"You ever been to Vjun?" she asked cheerily.
"Once. I hate the place. Lava, sand, and if that's not enough, sometimes it rains acid." Anakin grimaced and slammed shut the compartment that he had put his rations in. A subtle beeping emitted from his holowatch. Anakin held it out and watched the projection. Master Windu was talking. "Here are the plans: We've received anonymous information that the Separatists are building some sort of factory on Vjun. We think that they may be utilizing the lava to build heavily armored droids. Go there and see what you can find out. Be cautious, and may the Force be with you."
A map flickered up from the base of the emitter, and was reflected in the two Jedi's eyes.
"Well, we've still got an hour."
"Might take a while to get there. Ahsoka, make sure to stay hydrated. We don't want any problems."
"Alright, Master." He handed her a green canteen marked '700 mL.'
"I'm serious. You'll probably need about three of those so you don't dry out and shrivel up when you step out of the ship."
"I'd look like Rotta the Hutt."
"You already do."
"Very funny."
Ahsoka went to gather her supplies.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahsoka, it's time to leave!"
"Hang on, I'm gonna take a quick bathroom break."
"If we don't leave in the next two minutes, that hyperspace lane might close. Besides, you can go when we get there, it won't take as long as I thought."
There was a short comms silence.
"Well, I guess."
"C'mon! We can't be late, Snips."
Ahsoka sprinted out from behind the doorway and performed a rather stunning flip into the passenger seat.
"You're piloting, right?"
Anakin laughed a little, then responded.
"I don't know if I trust you enough to fly a starfighter. 'Specially mine."
He held up his watch and requested access to the hangar doors, so that the ship could exit.
The two sailed off into the stars, and made the jump to hyperspace.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
"Why didn't anyone equip with proper gear!? Why do I even put up with you useless lot?"
Count Dooku glared at the half-melted B-1 battle droid standing next to him. If Grievous were here, he thought, Grievous would have punched the droid. He settled for kicking it in the shin, since it was one of the few survivors. Bast Castle was an important place, but not where he wanted the factory. Dooku scanned over the map again, then concentrated his frustration and used it to find a safe spot for the factory, illuminating in orange the safest places on the planet. If it was any reassurance, he thought, the Jedi probably won't come to the Outer Rim.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Anakin landed the starfighter and looked at the wasteland. At least it wasn't raining. He sighed, then his head jerked the other direction, and he saw what the Force had guided him to: A pile of broken battle droids, in various states of matter.
"Look." he pointed them out to Ahsoka.
"We're getting out here. Remember, it is pretty hot here."
Ahsoka climbed out of the vehicle and realized just how mediocre and underwhelming that statement was. This planet was not hot. It was scorching. She dug her canteen out of the bag and took a long drink from it, then inhaled.
"You said there'd be a latrine, at least, here, right?"
"What? 'Course. Just go into one of the settlements. But right now, I think we should go and check out those droids."
One sat up, tried to wave, and hit itself in the head, and fell over, deactivated. Anakin lifted it back up, and pried open its back with his cybernetic hand. He yanked out the memory cell, then, for good measure, crushed the power cell and sprinkled the dust from it over the pile of skeletal, melted droids. After shoving the memory cell in his pocket, he ignited his lightsaber and watched the satisfying explosion from the pile.
"I'll have R2 analyze this to see where the droids are coming from. They're not the new ones, though."
They gave R2-D2, Anakin's astromech, the memory, and the two waited for a moment, at which point R2 projected his finds:
An image of a castle, of a tall rock formation, and of Count Dooku's rather ungainly ship.
"That is where the Separatists will be." Anakin pointed to the top of the rock formation.
"How do you know?"
"I can feel it. That is the Separatist base."
"Get back in the ship." Anakin ordered Ahsoka.
"Will do. Air conditioning."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Count Dooku was observing his B-1's as they set up (or tried to) a barricade in front of the base.
One of their squeaky, annoying voices piped up.
"I don't think that goes there. You were supposed to cut the wire."
Count Dooku reflected that he liked the OOM series' voices more, then sttod up and slashed through the barricade with his lightsaber.
"That," he uttered distastefully, "would have been useless."
The Count rolled his eyes and sat down, resigned to watching the droids assemble the final portion of the factory (The essential parts had been built four weeks ago).
I, he thought, am completely surrounded by the epitome of incompetence.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Anakin and Ahsoka arrived 10 kilometers away from the outpost. When Ahsoka had asked about this, Anakin mentioned that it would keep the ship off the radar.
"We've got a long walk, Snips."
"The only thing you should take is your pouch and your canteen."
"What about my lightsabers?"
Anakin just stared.
"Yes, then?"
The two of them set off, and a few minutes later, Ahsoka stopped walking.
"Yes?"
She started walking again.
"Nothing. Why don't we run? We can get there in about an hour if we do that."
"You're a pretty fast runner then, eh?"
Anakin was suddenly alarmed, and hissed at Ahsoka.
"GET DOWN."
Ahsoka mouthed "Why?" back at him.
Now whispering, he said "I must've entered the data wrong. We've only walked for twenty minutes and we're already here. That means they know."
Ahsoka sat in stunned silence and then frowned thoughtfully and crossed her legs.
"Well... We could try going in through there."
The two Jedi climbed up the rock wall to get a closer look at what Ahsoka had seen. She pointed to a hole that looked like it had been cut with a lightsaber. She poked her head in, and was greeted by a battle droid, which she promptly cut in half.
"C'mon!"
"I have some misgivings. I have a bad feeling about this."
"I have a good feeling."
"That is?"
"A feeling that is good."
"You can be kinda irritating sometimes, Snips."
"So can you."
Anakin decided to step through the hole.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sir, we've detected lifeforms in the north hallway."
Count Dooku thought for a second, then said "Send a patrol from both sides."
"Roger Roger."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ahsoka and Anakin, were, in fact, not in the hallway. Instead, they were climbing through the ventilation ducts.
"Eurgh. It smells so bad in here. Whyy? Droids don't have body odor."
Anakin was passing over a squadron of battle droids (which is about four rows of five) and then his watch went off.
"Must have been the wind."
The battle droids, mused Ahsoka, think that the wind can beep. They must be less intelligent than Jar Jar.
Anakin dropped behind the droids, and with a clean swing of the blade, decapitated half of them, then leapt back, and deflected five blasts into several more. He grabbed one with the force and threw it into the ceiling, then, for the last one, he yanked away its blaster, and punched it in the face with his cybernetic hand. It slumped over, and sparked when it hit the floor. Ahsoka was wandering around the hallway, looking for doors. Anakin retracted his lightsaber and holstered it. The Jedi were now in the hallway itself. The terrifying melted droid walked around the corner, startling Anakin, who promptly stabbed it.
"That's odd. Normally, there're waves'n'waves of them."
"Well, I'm not complaining," joked Ahsoka.
For the first time in a while, Anakin smiled.
"Normally you do. But yeah, neither am I."
Ignoring Anakin's insult, she spoke:
"There's a door. it looks important."
Ahsoka bent over a little, then stood straight up.
Her eyes lit up "Oh! look, a bathroom!"
Then, from around the other corner, a swooping, batlike Count Dooku arrived, and stepped in front of the door.
"Oh? Looking for the ladies' room?"
Ahsoka, unable to think of a retort, narrowed her eyes and responded.
"Yes."
Dooku grinned and his eyes glinted red. Then he lowered his left hand, and the ceiling above the bathroom collapsed onto the floor.
"Oh well. Soon there'll only be droids and men left here anyway."
Ahsoka shifted her weight to the other foot.
Count Dooku lowered his right hand and ignited his curved blade.
He cut a hole in the ceiling and jumped away.
"Have fun!" he shouted, cackling maniacally.
Two squadrons of grey colored droids marched from the right side of the hallway.
Anakin ignited his lightsaber once more.
He swung at the first row: But his lightsaber collided with the first and bounced off. Swinging harder, the lightsaber embedded itself in the droid's side, but didn't cleave through.
Ahsoka was nervous and clearly uncomfortable. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, and clenched her hand by her side, then pulled out her lightsaber. As soon as she did this, the droids started firing. Anakin leapt back, having only destroyed one.
"I'm just going to use the other restroom."
"Ahsoka, you can't take a potty break in the middle of a battle."
"So, how many times have you wet your pants?" Asked Ahsoka, clearly annoyed.
"Fewer times than you."
"So you have?"
"Zero's less than one."
Anakin deflected two blasts, but they didn't seem to hinder the droid they hit.
"I haven't..oOh. At least not yet."
Ahsoka threw her lightsaber at the floor, cutting a hole beneath the droids.
Two fell through.
"Hand me a detonator."
Anakin moved it through the air with the force. The droids, as brainless as they were, fired at it.
It knocked about 10 over.
"Lemme try that again."
Ahsoka reached for the detonators, but stopped halfway and jammed her hand in her crotch.
"mMmMMm."
She pulled it out and grabbed a detonator.
Four more droids fell.
"We need to destroy this factory."
Ahsoka mumbled something about it.
She swung at a droid with sabers from both sides, slicing it in half.
A commando droid had, unbeknownst to either of them, crept up behind the two Jedi.
It grabbed Ahsoka's right hand, and twisted her wrist so that she dropped one of her lightsabers.
She dropped her shoto accidentally, because she had been thinking about the pressure on her bladder, and when startled by the droid, let it go to shove her hand between her legs. Anakin dropped an EMP and disabled the six remaining droids.
The commando droid turned and looked at Anakin.
"Hands up. Or we kill the girl."
Anakin holstered his lightsaber and shook his head. Two commando droids picked up Ahsoka's sabers.
The droids noticed the position of her hands.
"You too. Hands up."
Ahsoka pushed her legs together. Anakin was apparently enjoying watching her squirm, because he smiled at her. She grimaced.
The droids were escorting them to a prison cell.
"I REALLY need to pee."
"We will not let you leave this cell."
The MagnaCuffs (plasma things around Palpatine's hands in Ep.III, not the metal kind) activated, preventing Ahsoka from holding herself. Anakin glanced at her and said,
"I'm going to make this interesting. How long do you think you can hold it?"
"Maybe.." She crossed her legs very tightly.
"Five..OOoOh.." She uncrossed them and twisted her body to one side.
"minutes, at most." She shuffled her feet around.
"I'm gonna push on your bladder."
"With the Force? I'm kinda aggravated with you for..ahA.. even thinking of that."
"Alright, I won't."
"I seriously think I'm going to pee myself." Ahsoka squatted as low as she could with the cuffs.
Anakin looked rather intently at her.
"Not now, though."
Several of the grey colored guards showed up to relieve the commando droids. Anakin glanced at their feet, and noticed that they had no armor, and were mostly exposed wiring. Ahsoka looked at Anakin.
"How're we getting out? I really am gonna wet myself."
Apparently nervously sweaty, Ahsoka's left hand shorted out the MagnaCuff.
"Well, there's a start."
Anakin whispered. "Here. They forgot to take it." He gestured at his pocket with his nose.
She pulled Anakin's lightsaber to her with the force, and twisted around to slice the power coupling for her other MagnaCuff. She rubbed her wrists, and then pushed both hands into her crotch. The guards were apparently oblivious to all that was happening behind them. Ahsoka broke Anakin free, then bounced up and down, holding herself, then stepping back and forth, doing the 'potty dance.' Anakin coughed, which caught the attention of the guards, who saw Ahsoka. One attempted to blast her, but she jumped out of the way and fell on the floor. Anakin gazed down at her, and without intending to, looked up her skirt, and saw a small, coin-sized patch of yellow on her white panties. Ahsoka, however, immediately jammed her hands in-between her legs, and whimpered. Her orange skin turned a shade of deep magenta and an almost clear yellow puddle spread from her crotch outwards. Ahsoka took her hands out from her legs and covered her face, having given up. She gasped, and let loose. Anakin could hear a soft tinkling noise from where Ahsoka was. The puddle was a centimeter in depth, and extended out into the hallway. Ahsoka's skirt and leggings were completely soaked. Anakin looked out of the cell. The droids' feet, having touched the urine, caused them to short circuit. Anakin cut through the cell's bars, ran down the hall and grabbed Ahsoka's lightsabers, slicing the commando droids in half. Ahsoka had stood up, and gazed with a sort of surreal but incomplete understanding of what had transpired.
"I just peed through my clothes. On the floor. I wet myself."
Two guards carrying a container of superheated gas walked by and slipped and shorted in Ahsoka's pee. The gas rose to the ceiling, and Ahsoka jumped on the floor. The explosion could probably have been heard several parsecs away. The two Jedi left in Anakin's starfighter as the factory and the rock formation crumbled into the lava behind them.
- - - - - - - - - - - - |
**Anyone remember Castle? Ended a few years ago. Here's a little fan story since I can't seem to find more that take place in this universe and with Kate Beckett.**
Captain Kate Beckett of the NYPD woke up that morning with her husband, Rick Castle next to her. Both naked as they kissed. She got up and waved her beautiful brown hair around, and then walked off to the bathroom. She watched Castle as she knew he admired her thin, tan body. Today was her day off and nothing would ruin it. She and her husband would spend the day together.
As she brushed her teeth her cell phone started to buzz. She picked it up and answered. “This is Beckett.”
“Beckett, hey,” it was Esposito. “Look Cap, I know it’s your day off, but we got a situation.”
“Esposito, honestly Castle and I solve every case with you guys down there every week. You’re a Lieutenant now. You can handle it. Get Ryan to help you.”
“That’s just the thing. Ryan is in trouble!”
Beckett dropped her toothbrush. In this type of job, she knew there were risks and dangers. She had seen cops die on the job. But Ryan was one of her friends as well. She was worried. “What happened to Ryan?”
“He was undercover in that drug cartel.”
“Esposito, you were supposed to be the one to go undercover! Ryan’s not even Hispanic-looking.”
“That might be why they checked him extra hard and found the mic we put under his tongue. The cartel called us and said they want every piece of evidence we got on them, or else Ryan gets it.”
Beckett rubbed her hand down her face. So much for a day off. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll be down at the station. Have everything circumstantial copied on paper as evidence and in boxes in case this comes down to more.” She ran into the bedroom as she slipped her panties and bra on. Both brown and delicious. “Castle we-.” She stopped stunned as her husband laid in a Greek-art like position and winked at her with breakfast on a plate in front of his crotch. “Babe, maybe later. Ryan’s in trouble.”
“I swear, seriously?” Castle said as he got up. “They can’t solve one case on their own?”
“Exactly!” Beckett agreed. Castle used the bathroom as Beckett got dressed. She slipped on tight blue jeans, black boots with heels, a black t-shirt, and dark leather jacket over it. They head out…and Beckett did NOT release her morning pee.
By the time they got to the station Beckett felt a cramp in her lower belly. “Crap!” she said. Her morning pee still filled most of her bladder. She felt that warm discomfort that pushed against her waist.
“Beckett!” Esposito said as he ran over. He handed her a file. “Here’s everything in summary uniforms picked up at the warehouse they’re holding Ryan at.”
Beckett studied the summary as her legs closed together tight and one foot on its toes. Her butt cheeks made a nice shape in those jeans as one could tell the movements from holding. “Let’s head out. Call SWAT to meet us there and take cover.”
“Got it!” Esposito said. He went off.
Beckett turned to Castle. “Ok, babe, I need to take a quick bathroom break before we go or I’m going to burst on the job. Wait for me.” She gave him a kiss and ran to the lady’s room. She saw the closed door that covered multiple stalls and toilets behind it to give her relief. She smiled from the joy of that knowledge but as she pushed the door it would not budge. “What the?” She gave a harder push, but nothing happened. She inhaled and puffed her facial cheeks out as the strain pushed on her bladder and made it more likely to leak into her pants. Little did Beckett know there were two cops in there smoking some of the devil’s lettuce. She knocked on the door and bounced in place. “Excuse me, is anyone in there?”
“Beckett, time to go!” Castle yelled.
She moaned. “Ohhh!” She followed Castle out the door.
They stopped at the warehouse which was on a harbor near the lake. Everyone got out and Esposito set up the SWAT team behind cargo boxes and told them to await orders from the Cap.
Beckett meanwhile could barely get out of the car. Her bladder had held in a night’s worth of pee, so the muscles around it were tired and sore. She held her belly and took a deep breath as she struggled to balance herself up. The pain was pulse after pulse that ruptured her whole stomach in a boiling sensation. Not to mention the anxiety she felt of having an accident in front of her husband, friends, and every cop she was the boss off.
“Beckett, you okay?” Castle asked.
She did not want to hear any smartass jokes about her need to pee. Even though she REALLY had to. “I’m…urr…I’m fine.” Her voice was breathless. “Let’s get to work.”
Esposito had his tech girl hack into the security cameras of the warehouse. They had full footage of everything inside. And everyone. “My boy Ryan!” Esposito said worried.
Detective Ryan was strapped to a chair and clearly beaten up. Blood fell from his nose. They heard him say, “You cartel clowns can do what you want.” He spat blood at them. “I don’t even have a wife or kids anymore. You might as well pop me.”
Beckett covered her mouth. Poor Ryan. Then without thinking, her muscles clenched as a warm drop of pee started to break through. Bekett HAD to get this job done, or she would have a humiliating accident in front of everyone. Her tight jean legs crossed over each other. Her arms crossed over her torso and she bit her lip as she bounced a little.
“Cap, what should we do?” Esposito asked.
Beckett felt like there was so much pee that built up inside of her weakened body that her ears were clogged. She could barely concentrate on Esposito’s words as the pulses in her bladder became faster and harder.
“Captain!” Esposito said.
“Um,” Beckett said. “Let’s um…move the SWAT in separate small teams and place at each of the three exits of the warehouse. I want uniforms armed with rifles behind those cargo boxes there since they are far enough to be protected if something goes down. Then-.” Beckett stopped. She tried to clench every muscle together to fight against the extreme urge that was overcoming her. Who was she kidding? Beckett was fighting a losing battle. Sweat formed on the poor police captain’s forehead from the pain and nerves.
“Beckett?” Castle asked. “Is that all? We have to hurry?”
“I set everyone up as you asked,” Esposito said. “But we can’t just barge in there.”
Beckett could barely think. But the noticed something on the surveillance footage. A BATHROOM! Opened with a complete toilet and everything. Becket could feel her belly had become expanded over her waist at the bottom of her shirt. She said, “I’m going to go inside and cause a distraction. I’ll be fine, I’ve been through worse. When you see my hands go up, that’s my signal to send everyone in. Ok?”
“Got it!” Esposito said.
Beckett felt herself pulled back by Castle. He said, “Kate, you can’t do this! There’s four armed guys in there, they’ll kill you!”
Beckett gave him a big kiss on the lips, and little Richard below stood up to salute Captain Becket. “I’ll be fine babe.” She ran off…with her legs turned inwards at the knees and stumbled side to side to keep her pee in.
Beckett made her way in, and saw it. THE BATHROOM. She almost cried at the sight of her relief. She did not care if the others saw her go in on the footage, they’ll just think she’s hiding. She walked over to the toilet careful, but her desperation grew as she felt like she would pop at any second.
“Stop right there!” a cartel member said. Beckett turned and saw the gun pointed at her. “You’re coming with me.” He pulled her over to where Ryan was and they tied her up on a chair.
Then, Beckett noticed a broken pipe nearby that leaked into a puddle on the ground. She saw and heard every drop which added on to an already desperate situation.
“Oh,” she moaned. More drops. Her teeth jittered and her body shook. Her body fluids flowed through her and in her bladder as they expanded it so much her pants button almost came off. Her moans were strained and high-pitched.
“What’s going on with you?” a cartel member asked.
Beckett could not hear or see straight her pain was so bad. Her fear of wetting herself in front of everyone. Everything she worked so hard for years to build her reputation, it could be destroyed in a single wetting. Her legs crossed and motioned up and down in the air as her feet no longer touched the ground. NO. This could NOT happen to her. She felt the pee close to breaking through. She tightened her crossed legs as much as she could. Tears fell from her eyes.
“Beckett what’s wrong?” Ryan asked.
SHE HAD TO PEE SO BAD!!!!!!! Her brown panties tightened across her enlarged crotch and swollen bladder. She felt a bad wedgie as the back of her panties went up her butt. This can’t be happening. She thought. Gonna…gonnnnnna…burst!
“Hey everyone!” yelled Castle who ran in the room holding a copy of his new book. “Anyone want an autograph. He opened the book and a small explosion shot out and suddenly the room filled with white smoke.
“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” the SWAT and police yelled. They ran in and took three of the four cartel members down in cuffs fast. One of them ran.
Beckett saw him running by, so she pushed her weight over and knocked herself tied to the chair onto the ground. The cartel member tripped over her and fell. “Yes!” Beckett said. The smoke started to clear, and like destiny she was in perfect view of the toilet. “Finally.”
But then Castle, who for some reason felt the need to always play hero jumped on the tripped cartel member. From that the cartel member accidentally shot off his gun and the bullets hit the sink and toilet and caused them to crack and break into pieces completely.
“DAMN IT!” Beckett yelled. She kicked her feet back in despair and turned red as she fought off the almost release. There it was. Her chance at relief destroyed. “What am I gonna do now?!??!” she cried, worried. Her legs crossed hard and pulled up to her chest.
Her cops cut her loose. She got up and knew then and there she did not have much time left. Her bladder was giving out. She clenched her legs in place as a spurt escaped. Her hands went to her crotch as she ran out. Maybe there was a porta potty nearby. She saw construction crews before. She felt like the pee filled her whole body and was pushing out of all parts, but mostly at her belly. "I'm about to pee my pants!"
Back in the warehouse, Castle picked up a bazooka. Property of the cartel. “Awesome!” he said. He did not mean to push anything, he was just looking…but…
Beckett saw it, a porta potty. It was even opened to show no occupant inside. She ran past the media that showed up and were with her cops, but then as her joy peaked, something flew by her face and brushed her hair over it. BOOOOOMM!!!! The porta potty had exploded. Beckeet looked behind her and saw Esposito take the bazooka from Castle. She turned back and tears fell from her eyes and her dropped jaw trembled. But the explosion also jolted her body with fear and caused loss of control. Media surrounded the Police Captain for a word, her fellow cops as well. But then, “No, no, no, NOOOO!” As tight as she held her crotch and kept her legs closed, it was no use.
Just like the porta potty and warehouse toilet, Beckett’s bladder blew up and shattered inside and released a long, boiling, stream of pee out of her body and into her pants. She remained trying to hold back with one hand at the crotch, but her jeans became damper and darken. Her other hand covered her mouth as she cried huge tears from embarrassment and turned bright red. It was only a short time before the peeing flooded her panties and released down into her jeans more and more. Pee came from the bottom of her pants and leaked all over her boots, and formed a large yellow puddle around her as the news media took pictures and recorded it on video. Beckett went to the bathroom in her pants. The whole city would see this later! It would be all over online. Her reputation was dead. She felt so uncomfortable as her hand was drenched and her jeans almost entirely dark. She gagged as her stomach pumped the rest out into her clothes unlike any adult at all. Her belly and bladder (what was left of them) were relieved, but she could not enjoy as she was was humiliated.
Beckett cried, “I…. I…AHH!” She covered her face with her hands and ran from the area. Angry and red that this happened.
“Hmm,” Castle said. “I should use this in a novel.”
THE END.
Edited October 25, 2017 by Rick Dixon
(see edit history) |
Pushing Their Limits: Prologue
My Hero Academia fanfiction by MasterXploder
(With thanks to Captain L for editing)
“Mmm, this lemonade is so good today!”
Ochako Uraraka’s declaration was the first thing that had been said since the group of students got in line at the UA Hero Academy’s cafeteria. Chatter and noise buzzed all around them, but an odd bubble of thick silence had formed between them.
Ochako looked around with raised eyebrows. “Anyone? What do you think, Deku?”
She looked over at Izuku Midoriya, who did not return her gaze. Instead, he glanced to the side, hand resting on his chin while he muttered nonstop. Exactly what he was mumbling about, Ochako couldn’t catch, but the words “festival” and “training” kept coming up.
“Deku?” she asked again, but to no avail. “Deku!”
“Wha!?” Third time was the charm, as Midoriya snapped out of his monologue and stood up straight. “S-sorry, Uraraka. I guess I got a little too carried away again,” he said, putting his hand behind his head.
“That’s no good, Midoriya,” said Class Representative Tenya Iida, who stood behind him. “You should always pay attention whenever someone is speaking to you, especially if they are of the opposite gender.”
“Really?” said Ochako, “then you heard what I just said, right?”
In a flash, Iida’s stoic leader front fell away as sweat formed on his forehead and he brought a finger to the bridge of his glasses. “Uh, well, yes, I er, that is to say, um…”
“She was just saying she likes the lemonade,” said Tsuyu Asui, who stood next to Ochako. “And if it’s as good as this tea, then she’s not wrong, ribbit.” She finished with a sip from her cup.
Ignoring Iida’s hypocrisy, Ochako turned back to Midoriya. “You know, you’ve been getting lost in thought a lot lately. Is everything okay, Deku?”
“Yeah, I guess I have,” replied Midoriya, “I’m just focused on the Sports Festival, that’s all. We only have maybe a week left before it’s here, and it seems like the teachers are mostly just letting us train ourselves for it.”
“I must agree with Midoriya,” said Iida, “The Sports Festival is our chance to prove our talents to professional heroes all over the world. Our performances there could seriously impact our future careers as heroes. I would be more worried for him if he wasn’t taking it seriously.”
“That’s true,” frowned Ochako. Not even a day after their class had survived an attack by dangerous villains at the USJ did Mr. Aizawa have them preparing for the Sports Festival, a school event more popular than the Olympics themselves. Knowing they would have to compete against not just the other classes, but each other, meant they would need all the help they could get.
“Maybe it would help if we asked the teachers to make some kind of exercise for us,” said Tsuyu, putting a finger to her chin.
“For sure,” said Ochako, “but right now, I just hope this line starts moving so we get to eat soon. The food smells so good from here!” She leaned over to count the number of students ahead of them. There were still a few to go, but they were getting there. She would focus more on the Sports Festival once they were all sat down with their meals.
“Heeeeeeey, Class one-aaaaaaay!”
Or so she had thought.
The booming voice of Present Mic over the intercom drowned out all other conversations in the cafeteria, and quite possibly the entire building. Several students, including Izuku’s group, put their hands to their ears to make its volume slightly more tolerable, some of them dropping their trays in the process.
“W-what the!?” said Ochako.
“An announcement? Now?” said Midoriya.
“Hero Class 1-A is to change into their hero costumes and report to the buses up front at once! Don’t keep us waiting~!”
The intercom clicked off, leaving everyone to stare at each other for a moment.
“Change into our costumes? What for?” asked Ochako.
“It sounds like we may have just gotten our wish, ribbit,” said Tsuyu.
Iida stood up tall and set his drink to the side. “It doesn’t matter what they’re calling us for, we must respond at once!” He raised his arm high, and an aura of leadership seemed to form around him. “Class 1-A! Follow me to the locker rooms!”
“But we know where the…” Midoriya tried to say when a hand covered his mouth.
“Maybe let him have this one,” said Ochako with a smile.
Midoriya nodded, Ochako withdrew her hand, and the group quickly departed the cafeteria, the entire class eventually coming together on their way to the lockers. Discussions of what the announcement could mean for them came up between them, but all of them concluded that they would find out soon enough.
“Surprise training exercise!?”
The entire 1-A class yelled this with a frown as they stood in front of the school buses and their teachers, all of them wearing their hero costumes with the exception of Midoriya, who wore his athletic uniform instead.
“What’s wrong? You all don’t sound too happy to hear that,” said All-Might, his hands on his hips and chest puffed out as always. “Weren’t you all hoping for some more training for the Sports Festival?”
Mina Ashido raised her hand. “Well yeah, training’s great and all. It’s just that…”
“This does not match our schedule as we were told,” interrupted Momo Yaoyoruzu. “Our lunch break was cut short, and most of us had yet to sit down with our meals before the call. Some of us may end up too fatigued for proper training.”
“Seriously, I’m starved over here,” added Denki Kaminari, holding his stomach.
“Is that so?” retorted Mr. Shota Aizawa, still covered head to toe in bandages, his flat yet commanding voice bringing the students back to silence. “I’d have thought this class of all classes would have realized something very important by now.”
“Something important?” asked Midoriya.
Aizawa nodded and continued. “Since you’ve started your training, you might have come to rely on a sense of routine here. However, villains and disasters operate on no such schedule. They can strike at any time and any place without warning, something you all should have learned from the attack at the USJ.”
“You won’t always be in peak condition when the call to action arises,” said Thirteen, their muffled voice still coming in clear as day. “And today, you’ll get to experience that by training at our off-site facilities without having lunch.”
“Off-site!? But we’ll be even hungrier by the time we get there!” complained Rikido Sato. “I might have to eat all my sugar packets so I won’t starve to death.”
“Pfft, whiners,” scoffed Katsuki Bakugou. “I don’t care if I eat or not. I’ll crush anything this school throws at me!” He held out his fist and let off a small explosion.
“Me too!” Eijiro Kirishima pumped his fist. “I won’t let a growling stomach stop me from clearing this exercise!”
All-Might put out a mighty thumbs-up. “That’s the idea! A true hero will always jump at the chance to save the day, no matter the time or handicap! But don’t worry, we won’t throw anything too crazy at you for this exercise. Much like the entrance exam, you’ll be battling robots for much of the test.”
“No offense, but battling robots doesn’t sound very difficult,” said Kyoka Jiro, crossing her arms. “Especially if you’re going through all this trouble to starve us beforehand.”
“It’s not that simple.” Aizawa shook his head. “You’ll be fighting in teams of four, each in a different location with different objectives. There will be more to it than simply smashing every robot you come across. As to the specifics of each exercise, well, you’ll just have to wait until we get there to find out.” No one could see him crack an almost sadistic smile under his bandages.
However, All-Might’s sincere grin was clear as day as he spoke next. “As some added motivation, every student that scores well enough to pass will get to enjoy their lunch right after the exercise, prepared by our very own Lunch-Rush.”
“Lunch-Rush!?” Several eyes lit up at the legendary hero-chef’s name. “We’ll do our best!” yelled many of the students.
All-Might laughed in the way only he could. “Then what are you waiting for? Everyone inside the bus!”
On cue, the doors to the bus opened, and the students lined up at the bus’ door, some smiling in confidence, others frowning in either annoyance or worry. Ochako found herself among the latter, looking down at her feet as she climbed into the bus. Not being able to eat before an important exercise was concerning, but her stomach was not what currently had her attention. Her focus rested on something further down her body.
Like Mr. Aizawa had warned them about, Ochako had fallen into bit of a routine at school. Everyday, she would first go to her locker to grab the supplies for that day, then make a stop at the girl’s room before going to class in case she had forgotten to do so at home. When lunchtime came around, she would first enjoy her meal with friends and then pay the toilets a second visit. However, she had remembered to go at home this morning, and that second visit was obviously not happening now. That meant it had been several hours since she had relieved herself, and that was becoming more apparent with the tingling in her bladder.
As she took her seat, Ochako’s legs pressed together a bit more than normal. At first, she had thought it fortunate that she at least got something to drink before the training, but now that might be a curse in disguise. With no idea how long it would take to drive to the exercise, let alone take the exercise itself, she had to wonder how much longer it would be before she could slip away for a bathroom break.
“You alright, Uraraka?”
“Hmm?” Ochako looked over to see Midoriya sitting next to her. “Oh, I'm fine!” She put her smile back on in a flash. “I was just getting focused for the exercise, that's all. I guess you aren’t the only one getting lost in thought in today, hee hee.”
“Heh, I guess not,” said Midoriya with a nervous smile. “Sorry if I was bothering you just now.”
Ochako waved it away with a hand. “No, it’s okay. Actually, it might be better if I have someone to talk to. It’ll help the trip go by quicker.” And keep my mind off my bladder.
“S-sure, I can do that,” replied Midoriya to Ochako’s relief.
Soon after, the bus’ engine roared to life, sending the students on their way. The chatter amongst them varied, with some discussing potential strategies, to others casually shooting the breeze about whatever subject, to a few like Shoji and Tokoyami sitting in silence and steeling themselves for the training to come. However, no matter what they did, none of them could truly prepare for the obstacles they would have to overcome soon enough.
(Author's notes: So here we go, another multi-chapter story with a word count much higher than I anticipate. Apologies for not having much in the way of omo in this chapter, but that definitely not be the case for the next installment. I'm already a good ways into that chapter, so we'll see if I can finish it up in a timely enough manner. Then again, I've got a Switch with both Fire Emblem Warriors and Mario Odyssey...) |
Pushing Their Limits:Zero Bathrooms for Zero Gravity
(or, "Ochako Oshikko")
(Note: Forgot to mention this earlier, but all characterization is based on the anime, so apologies in advance if it's not entirely consistent with the manga.)
UA Hero Academy was not just the most prestigious school for heroes, but also one of the most expansive. Roughly an hour outside of city limits were several large-scale training facilities and simulations, each meticulously crafted to help would-be heroes respond to just about any crisis they could imagine. It was almost an artform how they could make a simulated city or factory seem real enough that students would protect it as if it was the genuine thing.
Right now, Ochako could not focus on the grandeur of the makeshift city streets she walked through. Her major thought was if the architects had gone to the trouble of designing some of these buildings with functioning bathrooms. She knew it was the last thing she should be focusing on, but the pressure in her distended bladder made it all but impossible to ignore.
How did it get so bad, she wondered. Sure, it had been awhile since her last pee, but she had done lengthy stretches between bathroom visits before without much trouble. The few sips of lemonade from the cafeteria couldn’t have added that much, either. Was the stress of not having lunch and a surprise training exercise affecting her in weird ways? Whatever it was, at least the walking helped tone down the pain, if only a little bit. She also gladly took advantage of being behind all her teammates by keeping a hand on her groin.
“Jeez, my stomach is killing me.”
Of course, that hand would come straight off the moment her teammates did anything remotely different.
“Wait, weren’t you bragging about not letting your stomach get in your way back at school?” asked Hanta Sero with a cheeky grin.
“Hey, I still stand by that,” retorted Kirishima, “Though I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting to be this hungry. This might actually cut into my endurance a bit.”
“Well if that’s the case, you can just sit back and let me do the heavy lifting. I’m still in tip-top shape today.” Sero stuck out his chest in confidence, but as if on cue, his stomach growled immediately after, causing his grin to fall away.
“Ha! You were saying, tape boy?” Kirishima gently elbowed Sero in the gut.
“Alright, alright, so I’m pretty starved too, but at least everyone here is in the same boat as me.” Sero looked behind him, forcing Ochako to snap her hand away again. “Isn't that right, you two?”
“Um, w-well…” Ochako was not the best at being put on the spot, especially with her bladder as full as it was.
“I think we need to start focusing on our surroundings,” said Midoriya next to her. “If the exercise has already started, then the robots might be attacking the city right now.”
That's right, our mission. Ochako had nearly forgotten their objective between the team’s banter and her bladder. Despite Aizawa’s warning, her team’s exercise really did just boil down to smashing robot that they found. The major catch was the robots would not be targeting them, but instead attacking the city directly. Their goal was to prevent as much collateral damage as possible, for as All-Might put it, “A true hero is never as destructive as the villains they fight.”
“You say that, but I'm not seeing or hearing anything around here,” said Kirishima.
“That's because you're only on the ground, dummy,” replied Sero. “You gotta get up high to get a good look, like this!” He raised his arm skyward and fired a long strip of sellotape from his wheel-shaped elbow. It latched onto the top of a nearby building, and Sero pulled himself to the rooftop with ease.
“Alright, let’s see what we got here.” Sero put his foot on the roof’s railway and his hand above his eyes in a showy display. “Hanto Sero, recon expert at your service!”
“Quit being a show-off and just tell us if you see anything!” yelled Kirishima. It was more blunt than how she would have phrased it, but Ochako found herself silently nodding in agreement.
“I’m looking, I’m looking!” Sero turned his head the other direction and suddenly tensed up. “Hey, got something!”
“You did!? What is it?” asked Midoriya.
Sero pointed and yelled, “Smoke clouds a few blocks away! One to the east and one to the southeast!”
“Two different directions? They gotta be attacking multiple areas at once,” said Kirishima.
“We’ll need to split up,” declared Midoriya, “Uraraka and I can take the ones to the southeast.”
“W-We can!?” Ochako felt a nervous sweat forming on her brow.
“You sure about that? You guys might need my muscle for some of those bots,” said Kirishima.
Ochako opened her mouth to speak, but Midoriya cut her off. “Sero will need your strength more than us, and if we get in real trouble, I can use my quirk to keep us safe.”
Kirishima looked back and forth between them before nodding. “Alright, Sero and I will crush the robots to the east, then.” He looked up towards Sero and yelled “You get all that!?”
“Got it! Let’s bust these bots and get our food!” declared Sero while he climbed onto the railway. In a move straight out of comic books, he jumped off the rails, launching his sellotape at another building and swinging away in true hero fashion.
“Hey, leave some for me!” Kirishima took off for him at once while a series of skin-spikes grew out of his body.
Just like that, Ochako and Midoriya were by themselves on the streets. Before an awkward silence could develop, Ochako turned around and started down the road. “Come on, Deku, we better get going, too.”
“W-wait, Uraraka!”
Ochako stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head. “What is it?”
There was a moment where Midoriya looked away before speaking. “I know I asked you this before, but is something wrong?”
“W-what do you mean?” asked Ochako, trying to keep a straight face. Please don’t tell me...
“It’s just… you seem tense and distracted. Are you feeling okay?”
She tried to hide it as best she could, but Ochako’s mind raced with panic. Of course Midoriya’s excellent perception would pick up on her subtle signals, even if he hadn’t fully pieced it together yet. He was the last person she wanted to have this predicament around, even among the likes of Mineta and Bakugo. At least those two weren’t people she normally hung out with.
“Um, no, I’m feeling fine! Just peachy, in fact!” she said, faking a smile.
“Are you sure? I know we haven’t eaten in awhile, so if you’re not feeling well, please don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’ll be okay, just a little hungry is all,” Ochako replied, giving a thumbs up. “The sooner we get to eat, the sooner I’ll get better.”
Midoriya stared at her for a moment much to her worry, but then nodded and turned towards the smoke cloud. “Right, then let’s get these robots before they can wreck the city.”
“I’m right behind you,” called out Ochako as they took off.
Just as she hoped, Midoriya led them forward, allowing her to put a hand between her legs again. It offered little comfort, unfortunately, as the reality slowly dawned on her. She would have to battle and defeat a group of tough robots with a full bladder, all while hiding her powerful need from Midoriya the whole time. It was a Herculean task before her, one she was not certain she could pull off.
No, don’t think like that! She shook the doubts out of her head. A hero had to keep a brave face against the odds, no matter how grim they looked. She was gonna give it all she had in this exercise, if only because there was no other way to keep herself dry.
U.A.’s robotic A.I. was some of the most advanced in the world, but even it had its limitations. The robots for the exercise were set to focus on destroying the city around them, but not specifically pay attention to the heroes unless they were attacked. This meant that it was possible to get the drop on them and take them out before they could retaliate.
Ochako was quite happy to have figured this out, for they wouldn’t have to waste valuable time going toe-to-toe with the bots. Between her quirk not being the best for straight-up offense and Midoriya’s quirk seriously hurting him whenever he used it, it was the best course of action, and she took it with glee.
Running straight up to a robot smashing the corner of a building, Ochako lifted the large construction beam she had found nearby over her head. What should have been impossible to carry without a crane was held up with ease thanks to her zero-gravity quirk rendering it weightless. With a yelp, she tossed it into the air like an Olympic athlete, where it soared upwards with no sign of stopping.
Ochako waited only a few moments before bringing her fingertips together and yelling “Release!” In an instant, the I-beam’s weight returned, sending it falling to the earth like a javelin. It impaled the robot, easily smashing through its head and chassis, bringing its punching arms to a dead stop.
“Whew!” Ochako panted. She was certain the beam was now stuck into the ground, but it was a small sacrifice for preventing an entire building from collapsing. “Okay, that’s another one down, just a few more to g-OH!”
It seemed that her bladder had mistook her command of “release” to apply to itself as well. Her underwear suddenly grew warm and wet from a sizeable spurt as the exhaustion from utilizing her quirk hit her. She bent forward, snapped her legs shut, and shoved both hands down there in the blink of an eye, anything that would stop the leak from turning into a flood.
“P-please no,” she mumbled through grit teeth, “Not here, not like this!”
Whether from strength she never knew she had or sheer divine intervention, the spurt did not grow any bigger, and her bladder eventually calmed back down. She sighed as she slowly stood upright. Disaster had been averted for now, but it still served as a powerful reminder of how little time she had left before the inevitable happened. Please don’t let there be too many more robots...
“Gyah!”
“Deku!?” Ochako felt a cold sweat coming on as she turned towards Midoriya. That was a yell of shock and panic, and it did not take long for her to understand why.
She did not know where they came from or why they were attacking him, but four new robots had shown up and slowly moved on Midoriya, their intention to beat him to a pulp clear as day. He had just jumped back to avoid a punch, hence his shout, but now his back was to a wall, and the robots left no room for him to slip away.
Ochako knew things were bad now. Sure, Midoriya could activate his quirk and dispatch the robots if he absolutely needed to, but that would cripple whatever limb he used. Recovery Girl could help him heal it with hardly any trouble, but he would be in enormous pain until then and, worst of all, probably miss out on his meal reward. She could never let that happen to him, not if she had anything to say about it.
There was no hesitation in Ochako’s movements as she rushed forward as fast as her legs could go. Her bursting bladder no longer mattered one bit to her, only the safety of her best friend. The pounding in her chest, burning in her lungs, and soreness in her legs would not stop her either, for the closer she got, the closer the robots lurched towards Midoriya, and the more she became convinced she could see the bright glow of his quirk slowly activating.
“Stop!” she yelled at both the robots and Midoriya. All as one, he and the robots looked over at her, the glow on Midoriya’s arm fading away.
“U-Uraraka!?” he said.
She did not respond, instead putting her plan in action. Ochako leapt forward, landing her leg on the closest robot’s leg and touching it with her hand. Before it could react, she pushed off it and landed next to the second bot, touching it as well. Her quirk quickly took effect, and the first two robots began lifting into the air, their limbs flailing about without hitting anything.
Already, the strain from her quirk was hitting her, but she couldn’t stop now. “Quick, this way!” she shouted, holding out her hand.
Midoriya wasted no time in running towards her, yelling a quick “Thank you!” once he caught up to her. Ochako, however, did not run back as far as he did, instead slowly backing up while the remaining robots closed in on her.
Come on, just a little closer, she thought while slowly raising her trembling hands. A mere moment later, and the robots moved up just as she asked. “R-release!” She pushed her fingertips together, and the pressure on her suddenly vanished.
Just as planned, the two robots she levitated into the air fell straight down, crashing into their brethren. Smoke, sparks and pieces of metal flew all around, and as the dust settled, the heroes were rewarded with a view of four busted and nonfunctional robots.
“W-wow.” Midoriya looked at Ochako, who remained motionless. “Thanks for the save again, Urarak-”
“Aah!”
Ochako suddenly broke her stillness and buried both hands deep into her groin. She had pushed her body to its limits with that last use of her quirk, and the effects hit her hard. Her stomach churned and squeezed, making her want to void its contents, but the worst effects came from further south. Even with hands between her tightly-pressed legs, she could still feel a tiny leak making her skintight pants ever wetter. This was her limit, and now she had maybe seconds left before the floodgates flung open.
“Uraraka!? What’s wrong?” came Midoriya’s panicked voice.
“I… I…” Ochako’s eyes grew moist from tears. There was no point in hiding it anymore, not when Midoriya was going to find out in a few seconds anyway. “I… need the toilet!” she yelled with her eyes shut and head lowered.
“The… what!?” Midoriya stuttered, reeling back.
“I need to go! Right now!” Ochako wobbled in place, every last bit of her strength devoted to not hosing her costume right there and then.
“R-right, a b-bathroom. But where?“ Midoriya looked around, his expression as frantic as Ochako’s.
She didn’t have time to wait for him. Already, the leak was growing in volume, to the point where she could feel the first dribble going through her panties and into the suit itself. “J-just don’t look!” was all she said as she waddled forward, her goal being the wrecked robot nearby. It was only a few steps to get behind it, but each one caused another leak to escape her. By the time she made it there and squatted down, a drop had managed its way down her leg and into her boot.
Gasps, whimpers, and the occasional “come on…” left her mouth while Ochako fumbled with her belt and costume, frantically looking for the zipper that would enable her to get her clothes out of the way of the oncoming flood. It only took a few seconds before she realized how pointless that endeavor was. Her leaks had only gotten worse since her hands and legs moved away from her groin, and there was little the liquid could spread to in her squatted state. With how wet her underwear and pants already were, a little more urine was not going to hurt them any more.
Her epiphany came at just the right time, for without warning, the last of her holding strength gave out. Ochako did not need to look down and see it for herself; she could feel the warmth of several hours worth of stored-up liquids spreading across her crotch, powering through the spandex and falling to the ground in a series of rapid drops with a light stream in the middle. Such a force was not without sound, and the combination of the splattering on the street and the hissing from Ochako’s more private regions made sure that anyone nearby would know what she was up to.
She was peeing herself on the streets in broad daylight, an experience she had not had since before grade school. Her best friend was also just a few feet behind her, knowing and hearing full well what was happening to her. Any other time, this would have easily been the most humiliating thing to ever happen to her, as well as a clear failure to display the fortitude necessary of a hero.
At that moment, however, none of these things mattered to her. All she could focus on was the sweet release of finally letting go, all those stressful and painful feelings being replaced with the pleasure of an empty bladder. Her frantic breathing slowed into a series of longer and louder sighs until she closed her eyes and let out a long moan, smiling the whole time. She knew it was not very modest or particularly heroic, but for the time being, that did not matter to her. It simply felt too nice to have her pee at long last.
Still, a part of her kept her mind on Midoriya and how he felt about all this. She trusted him not to look, but he was probably still nearby to make sure nobody else walked in on her. I hope this isn’t too awkward for him...
Midoriya scratched his bright-red cheek while he stood with his back turned to the robots. When he had first entered the academy, he had expected a mountain of trials and tribulations to defeat in his quest to become a hero. Standing guard for a girl while she relieved herself in a public location was something he never would have guessed would be part of his training, whether it was planned by the UA or not. Then again, could any hero ever prepare themselves for something like that?
The thought of peeking on Ochako handling her business made him shudder in disgust, so temptation was not an issue. What was a problem, however, was the sheer awkwardness. He might not be able to see her, but he could the faintest sounds of water hitting the ground and pleasurable sighing behind him. A cold sweat formed on his cheek while the noises he was never meant to hear drove his mind wild despite his efforts to focus on something else.
The other problem was something he had not noticed until Ochako ran behind the robots. Hearing somebody answer the call of nature made him realize that his own bladder had been filling up since the bus trip. He was not desperate by any means, but it was at that point where the discomfort was becoming noticeable. Hopefully, he would not need to wait too much longer before he could pay a visit to the restrooms. Until then, he would just have to shuffle his feet to keep the pressure at bay.
“Where are they!?”
“I think they went this way!”
Just when Midoriya thought this situation couldn’t get any more awkward, the voices of Kirishima and Sero sent his heart rate flying. They were nearby and, if his memory of this city’s layout was accurate, would be coming around the corner very soon. He glanced back to the robot Ochako squatted behind, hoping to see her finished going and making herself presentable. Not only was she still crouched and the hissing sound as strong as ever, but now a very visible yellow puddle was spreading from underneath the robot.
He could already see the worst case scenario playing out in his head: their other teammates seeing the growing puddle and putting two-and-two together, or worse, running right past it and having a direct view of Ochako in mid-pee. The poor girl would be mortified beyond belief, and the shame of failure would hang around his neck like a hundred ton weight. He could not let that happen no matter what; Ochako was his friend, and letting her down was the least heroic thing he could possibly do. But what was he going to do to keep them from going up to the robots and asking about Ochako?
No time to think, they would be rounding the corner anytime now. Before even he knew what he was doing, Midoriya turned around and ran up to the robot, keeping his head turned to the ground so as not to have any accidental peeks. Unzipping his fly, he fumbled with his pants and All-Might themed boxers until his aim was free of any barriers. A couple seconds passed in what felt like an eternity as he waited for his bladder to start emptying, his heartbeat feeling particularly strong in those moments.
It started as mere drops dripping onto the ground, gradually coming out faster and more connected while Midoriya slowly got used to deliberately peeing in public. The drops eventually formed into a stream of off-yellow, arcing farther and higher until it struck the robot’s wrecked chassis. A clear sound of water bouncing off metal rang through the quiet street, while the pee trailed down until it added to Ochako’s already-impressive puddle.
A light sigh left Midoriya as he hit full stream. He had to admit that despite the circumstances, it felt nice to relieve his bladder a good deal earlier than he expected. A split second later, however, and that feeling ended as he heard a pair of footsteps running up behind him.
“Oh good, there’s Midori-what the!?” Sero’s voice jumped up in volume.
“Dude, gross! Talk about unsportsmanlike conduct!” yelled Kirishima.
“Eh heh heh,” Midoriya laughed while turning his head, revealing his blush and nervous smile. “S-sorry guys, I-I just couldn’t hold it in anymore, you know?”
Both Sero and Kirishima put a hand behind their heads and turned around. “Ugh, at least you dealt with the robots that slipped away from us,” said Sero.
“Y-yep, all clear over here,” said Midoriya, “Now c-could I have some privacy, please?”
“Bit late to be asking that,” said Sero.
Kirishima turned to the other street and said, “Come on, let’s head down the other way and see if there are any other stragglers.”
“Alright. Go find Uraraka when you’re done and regroup with us when you can,” Sero added as he took off, “And don’t touch anyone until you wash those hands!”
“Heh, g-got it!” replied Midoriya. Huh, I didn’t take Sero for the kind of person to be that serious about hand hygiene.
To Midoriya’s relief, the streets were once again devoid of life save for him, Ochako, and his rapidly-draining bladder. He sighed while he watched his stream grow weaker, the splatter falling from the robot onto the urine-soaked ground before further reducing to a few final spurts. He had embarrassed himself rather badly, but at least it was for a good reason. Right now, his concern was for Ochako and how she was feeling after all this.
Deku… really did that for me?
The last minute or so had been quite the emotional roller coaster for Ochako. She had fallen into a dead silence upon hearing Sero and Kirishima’s voice, though there was nothing she could do to halt the downpour coming from her crotch. Then came the pitter-patter right behind her and Midoriya’s up-close voice which made her heart pound in her throat. She didn't dare turn her head, but knew full well what he was doing to cover for her.
Much as she appreciated not having anyone else know about her sudden potty time, the thought of someone humiliating themselves for her sake filled her heart with the heavy weight of guilt. Having others take the fall for her was a very unheroic thing to do, and she had to make it up to him somehow.
The other boys had not even left yet by the time Ochako’s spray finally began its slow decline. Another fifteen seconds, and her bladder fully ran out of pee to add to the large puddle below her. She wiggled her butt to shake off the last couple drops, then slowly stood up, hearing Midoriya gasp and quickly adjust his clothes.
Rather than confront him immediately, Ochako first took the time to examine the damage on her costume. For the first time ever, she was thankful her outfit was a skintight suit with dark colors. The only signs that she had wet herself were a shine on the crotch and maybe the pink was a little darker, things that someone would only notice if they were directly focused on that part of the costume. It’s a good thing Mineta isn’t here right now, she thought.
Walking around to Midoriya’s side of the robot, she found it hard to make eye contact with him, though in the brief moment she did, she discovered he had the same problem as well. She put her hand behind her head and tried to speak, but the words would not leave her lips. “I… uh…” was all she could manage at first.
“Um, so…” muttered Midoriya, “Are you...”
“I’m sorry!” blurted Ochako, lowering her head.
Midoriya reeled back in surprise. “S-sorry? What for?”
Ochako put her hands together at her legs and glanced to the ground. “Um, Mr. Aizawa was right. I should have taken care of this before I went to lunch, but I fell into a routine of waiting until after.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” said Midoriya, shaking his head. “Nobody could have guessed the teachers were going to spring this exercise on us.”
“It doesn’t matter if I couldn’t see it coming. I should’ve been able to hold it like a real hero, but I couldn’t, and then you went and embarrassed yourself for me. I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you for that.”
“Oh, please don’t worry about that. It’s nothing, really.” Midoriya put his left hand to his chest. “In fact, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, Uraraka.”
“A-apologize?” Ochako’s eyes opened wide and looked straight ahead. “But why?”
“Please tell me the truth, Uraraka. Did you come to my aid and yell ‘stop’ because you didn’t want me to use my quirk and hurt myself?”
“Um, well…” mumbled Ochako, scratching her head. Midoriya’s perception was spot on as always, yet she still found it hard to admit to it.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything.” Midoriya held up his right arm and looked at it. “I came to this academy so I could become the greatest hero, but until I master my quirk, I’m as big of a danger to myself as any villain.”
“Don’t say something like that, Deku!” Ochako raised her arms. “I think you’re great hero material even without mastering your quirk.”
Midoriya let out a sigh. “Still, if I had better control of it, you wouldn’t have had to push yourself so hard to save me, and then you might have had a chance to find a bathroom in time. It’s hard for me not to feel a little burdensome, you know?”
Is that all? Silly Deku, she thought, growing a soft smile. “It’s okay, I felt the same way when I was trying not to wet myself this whole exercise.” She stepped forward, closing the gap between them to a few feet. “And that’s why we’re here, right? To push ourselves and learn how to be real heroes so we won’t have to feel like a burden to others.”
It took a couple seconds, but Midoriya smiled in earnest for the first time since the exercise started. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“You’ll get there someday, Deku. I know you will,” said Ochako, “I just hope I can keep getting better right with you.”
“Then let’s get better together,” replied Midoriya, giving a thumbs-up, “So neither of us have to embarrass ourselves again.”
“Hee hee, maybe not the best motivation, but together it is!” Ochako returned the thumbs-up with glee. It never failed to amaze her how a quick chat with Midoriya was sometimes all she needed to get into a better mood. She could still feel its fading warmth, but her wetting seemed so far away right now.
The crashing of a collapsing building nearby made her forget about it even more.
“Wuh-what was that!?” Both Midoriya and Ochako snapped their attention in the noise’s direction. As they feared, another robot had turned up, this one as tall as the skyscraper it had just demolished. Sero and Kirishima could be seen dealing with it already, but they certainly could not get the job done alone.
“Seriously!? Where did that even come from?” asked Midoriya.
“I guess they want us to really earn our lunch,” said Ochako.
“Then we better stop it before it can wreck anything else.” The two of them glanced at each other and shared a nod before running off to face the robot, leaving the scene of their emergency piddle behind, their bladders now as empty as their stomachs. A sense of hunger could be seen in their eyes, not just for food but for growth, and they would fight to the last drop of strength until they had enough of both to call themselves true heroes. |
The Chip (Prologue and Chapter 1)
Reynie Gambol, was not, as his name suggests, one to throw caution to the wind. He worked in the most boring department of the blandest store, on the most uneventful street, in the quietest district of Mirror City. But that was the way he liked it. He liked routines, and patterns (although he enjoyed discovering new things). His apartment was on Seven South Saint Solomon Street (He liked the alliteration) and he rarely saw his friends outside of work. So what did he do to gain recognition? Well, the reason this story even exists is because of him. He worked as a (boring) software engineer, designing the programs that ran the city's automated vacuums, that guided the cars, like scarab beetles, glimmering through the coruscant city to their destinations most efficiently, and that flashed the targeted ads at walkers from the billboards. He disliked the last bit, but they paid him well for it. However, the real reason Reynie Gambol is known is because of what he did on one hot November night. Before the story begins, you must know that Reynie Gambol did one more thing, with glee: He enjoyed cybersecurity, building fortresses of software, then attacking them with injection, buffer overflows, and using patched code to open backdoors. It was with delight that he watched other programmers' contraptions fail because of an ill malloc() call, or a misplaced strcpy(), which he would use to utterly crush the program. Reynie Gambol participated in the weekly cyberhunter competitions that he set up, and invited his few friends to join him. And one final thing, the thing this story is about: Reynie discovering a flaw in the BioChip 2.
Reynie, having exited the Calibur Coding Concepts building, walked down the street, laptop in hand. His laptop was an ancient thing, a Chromebook that had had the CPU upgraded, a GPU soldered on in place of the original onboard graphics, a storage and RAM upgrade, and several screen replacements. It was not as rickety as it looked, however, and bore with pride an 'Old Faithful' sticker on the back. Reynie stopped to get a sub (philly cheesesteaks and meatball subs were his favorite) and sat down on one of the city's many glimmering benches. One of the city's own targeted ads popped up in front of him. Annoyed by his own folley, he pulled out his laptop and put down his sub. With a quick hop to the console, he scanned the area around him for things called 'ad-server,' or the ones his friend Jacqueline had programmed, 'AdServer.' He found one called 'adserver-rgambol-subshop' and glanced around to see if anyone was looking. They weren't; their eyes were glued to their phones, their comlinks, the screens and holograms. But not to his. With a few keystrokes, he opened an ssh session and shut down the server. The ad flickered into a blue error message. Reynie began eating his sub. He looked down at his drink (water, he disliked the sugary carbonated filth everyone drank) and picked it up. He checked his messages, and saw one from Jacqueline. Speak of the devil, he thought, I was just remembering her ad code. He checked the message, and read that there were some unusual frequencies operating around her house, and she wondered whether he might want to take a look. Reynie hailed an autocab, which he reflected that he had programmed himself, put in a quarter, and gave it her address. Reynie took a sip of his water and thanked the cab heartily. The cab, as was it's preprogrammed response, politely bid him audieu, and cruised sleekly down the street, splashing rainwater up from the puddles. Reynie pulled the hood over his head, in spite of the blazing sun, and walking briskly, arrived at Jacqueline's front door. She was rather beautiful, he thought, but that wasn't why he liked her. They were friends and business associates, she had a quick wit to match Reynie's, and an outgoing personality to match his introverted one. They had been through school together, and had been roommates through university. Jacqueline was a slender figure, with small but emphasized curves, and, in stark contrast to Reynie, slight muscles and a warming smile. The orange light behind her illuminated her form, but occluded her front in shadow. She reached out and embraced him, then jokingly whispered "long time, no see!" Reynie laughed good-naturedly and patted her on the back. She spoke again.
"Down to business, okay? I ran a few nightly scans, and there's one that looks strange." She gestured in her computer's three monitors' general direction. Reynie glanced at the screen, noting the ornate gold trim around the bezel. He looked through the lists until he found what she was talking about. BC2-L-CLASS 1080 filtered ports, 9 open, 20 closed. OS Version: Gov-1-img2.iso v.1.1. It was transmitting on radio FM frequencies. Reynie puzzled over it for a minute, then saw his face reflected in the screen and almost jumped, his expression of concentration had been so terse.
"Well, I'll try to send a signal to it, and if it doesn't filter out ping probes, I'll be able to bruteforce the openA protocol."
"What d'you think it does?"
"Dunno. Let's find out."
His laptop whirred for five minutes then dinged, announcing a successful crack.
"Look at that. Dictionary. Substitution. Didn't even use brute force." Reynie smiled at the screen.
"Someone had a sense of humour." He pointed at the third line of text. It read pass: pantyh0s3. Jacqueline laughed a little, then sat down on her chair and crossed her legs. Even though Reynie was introverted, around her, he talked more often than she did. He spoke again.
"I'm running a manual check." pause. He typed man gov1bc -h -vv and read the list. "Ah! It's got a GUI." He was stunned. There, laid out before him was the most intricate diagram of the human body he had ever seen, with every muscle in rendered 3D, with tiny labels around all of them, when you hovered your cursor. There was an axis to rotate the model as well. He didn't know what it did, but now his interest was piqued. And if you were trying to hide something, the last two people you wanted to know about it were Reynie Gambol and Jacqueline Grace. He glanced up from the screen, to Jacqueline, then back down, without saying anything. He zoomed in on the face and its 500 or so muscles. He clicked on the nose and saw a wide range of options, from sequence, to contract, expand, freeze and stop. He looked up again. The faces, he realized, matched. He stared down at his laptop and thought how he might test whether his theory held true. He selected contract for the left nostril. Jacqueline's nose twitched. But she does that sometimes, he thought. What can I test that she doesn't normally do? Reynie, possessed of some good, realized what all this meant, and did what many others wouldn't have; the decent thing, the noble thing: He told her what he had found. She thought for a moment.
"If it really does work, try clenching both my hands."
The GUI was very intuitive, and Reynie selected the fingers for the two hands, then pressed contract. Jacqueline clenched her fists. She looked down in surprise. Reynie knew what the prospect of a device that could control muscles meant, and when he pondered further, he realized that this could be only one of many; it seemed specialized for Jacqueline. And what of its name? Gov1B.C.? Someone with a dark sense of humour, or the actual government? Then Reynie began planning his legal defense. If the device had unauthorized access to the network, that was a violation in and of itself. The Bill of Invoidable Rights had made provision two years ago for "revenge" style hacking, but Reynie wasn't worried too much about that.
"Hey! Are you even listening? You're standing in front of the bathroom door."
"Uh, oh, no. Sorry. Wait, no, I've got it! If it really works, I know what to do. But I'm not going to tell you, because I don't want to risk the placebo effect."
Jacqueline was wearing tight, light blue jeans and a flowy, lacy translucent white shirt, tinted orange by the light. She crossed her legs more tightly.
"Alright, hurry up. I've been holding it since you got here."
"That'd be," he checked his watch, "seventeen minutes."
"I have a small bladder, okay?"
Reynie felt a small twinge of guilt. He selected the urethra, then looked at the options. 'Relax' seemed like it might do the trick. Jacqueline gasped audibly and shoved her hands between her legs.
"I can't stop it!"
The dark blue stain spread across her jeans, and the urine made a trickling noise as it collided with the floor. This went on for about 10 seconds. Reynie looked up guiltily.
"Sorry. That was it, but it looks like the program does what we think. I'm saving that IP Address. If it really is the government, a police report won't do any good."
"Government? You never said anything about that." Jacqueline seemed to be taking wetting herself in stride and was already back to her talkative persona.
"We should check for more, doncha think, Reynie?"
Reynie was disturbed, but more than a little turned on by the fact that he had robbed another person of their free will.
"I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry; like you said, it had 'a be done, didn't it?"
"Really, I am sorry; You're one of my closest friends."
"Relax. Look, really, don't be so uptight and apologetic. We need to get things sorted out. And I need to change my pants."
"I think they look kind of cute on you, actually."
Jacqueline blushed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
REPRINT BY HALFCOURT-MUFFLER (SUBSIDIARY OF PUFFGUIN BORKS) WITH PERMISSION OF THOSE INVOLVED IN STORY. CATCH NEXT ISSUE IN VOL. 2 OF AMAZING STORIES HOLOVIDS!
I hate ads. - Reynie
Edited October 26, 2017 by Throw Away
Grammar and Title change (Planning on making chapters part of the same post)
(see edit history) |
The Chip (Chapters 2 and 3, with more omorashi)
Minor Correction: The prologue writer mistakenly referred to the Gov1BC as a "BioChip 2," which was developed a year later. This is physical hardware, but in chapter 1, the device had only firmware v1.1. The publisher was reffered to as 'Muffler,' when, in fact, it is "Halfcourt-MuffIN."
Jacqueline sat on her couch, then promptly stood up and closed the curtains. An ad flickered up behind her for adult diapers. Mumbling about targeting ads, she punched the HoloProjector off of the table. It sparked and flickered out. Reynie switched operating systems from Kali to Arch and opened a web browser. He used a Qubes-hardened custom distro with IDS, two firewalls, ClamAV, full-disk 2048-bit AES encyption, and of course, Ad-blockers.
"You know, the city probably recorded us. That's why it showed the ad. Let's go back to my place, we'll be safer there."
Jacqueline paused for a moment.
"Should I change?"
Reynie thought she probably should, but he enjoyed seeing her like this, so he made an effort to prevent it.
"Nobody'll notice. We'll just take an autocab. It's not like there's a driver. I want to reverse all the code from this thing."
The two of them climbed into another autocab, but Reynie had no money. In his past life, before this afternoon, he would never have dreamt of this, but he pulled out his laptop and backdoored the cab. It sped away to his apartment.
"Right. From now on, when we go anywhere, no cars. We don't want to be tracked."
"I hate walking."
"Really? You never told me."
"Well, I enjoy walking with YOU. No' much fun on its own."
Reynie was silent as his mind digested this. No. It said firmly. No. She's just a friend; a colleague. Even so, the less logical portion of his mind couldn't shake the feeling in the back of his head. They had walked together every day for years. Except yesterday, because of the incident, and one time when Samuel had locked Samantha out. The people at Calibur always joked that the two of them had had to get married, since they were both nicknamed some variation of 'Sam.' They couldn't have been more different, if it weren't for their names. Sammy was a short, plump woman, and Samuel was a 6' 8, muscular, broad-shouldered man. His voice, however was soft, and always carried a hint of reverence and kindness. Reynie needed to warn Sam and Sammy.
"I'm going to call Sam and Sammy. And one more thing, before we get off this elevator. No public restrooms; they can analyze our DNA and figure out where we've been from a urine sample. This'll be our last chance before we try finding answers."
"Well," laughed Jacqueline, "I won't need to go anytime soon." She made a sweeping motion at her pants with her hand. The stain was faded now. Reynie stepped out of the elevator and toward his apartment.
"We're home."
Reynie wasn't rich, but most of the money he didn't put toward food was spent adorning his apartment with various and sometimes ill-fitting luxuries, like a grand piano that was actually full of coordinated floppy drives that played the 'Force Theme,' 'The March of the Empire,' and 'Beethoven's 5th Symphony.' His bed was for two people, even though he was the only inhabitant of his apartment. Jacqueline knew all this, of course, so she waited on Reynie to key in his 26-digit alphanumeric passcode to unlock his door. They'd have called him a tin-hat if he lived a while ago, she thought to herself. Reynie's apartment opened. They stepped inside, and Reynie deadbolted and locked the door. A small figure crept out from behind the bed.
"Gina? How'd you get in here?"
Reynie's voice was of deepest concern.
"Through the vents. You know how I like to listen for things sometimes?"
Reynie looked over Gina, and made a mental note to deadbolt the vents. She wore black jogging pants and a T-shirt. Her face was bruised and her long red hair was in clumps. She liked to keep people listening.
"What'd you hear?"
"Yeah, tell's, I wanna know."
"It was the council...They have those weekly meetings, and they started talking about muscle impulses and gibberish, so I ran, but they must have seen, because one of the guards was chasing me with a stun baton." She pointed to her black eye. Jacqueline and Reynie exchanged glances. That was what they had found. Reynie opened his laptop, and obtained a binary copy of the program from the server that used radio frequencies.
"It'll be about a day's journey into Nova. That's where we're going, and, well, I guess you too. I know someone there who can help. We'll have to travel by Pipe, so the cameras don't catch us." Gina and Jacqueline shuddered. Reynie looked sadly at the ground.
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Jacob Andross-Morthen was, in many ways, the antithesis to Reynie Gambol. There were four things that immediately sprang to mind about him. The first was that he was brash and courageous; he didn't back down from a dare. The second was that he was, quite unlike Reynie, very self-centered and greedy. The third thing is that he was very, very manipulative. The fourth (and final) thing, he spoke in puzzles and rhymes. Of course, it was Jacob that the three of them set off to meet.
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End chapter 2
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 3: So Begins the Journey
Reynie, still shielding his face from the cameras, opened a hatch and clambered into the Pipeworks beneath the city. Before they had colonized other planets, an underground portion of the city had been dug out in case of overpopulation. Fortunately now for Reynie and his oddball party, which consisted of Jacqueline Grace, Gina Lestar, Samuel Morgan, Samantha Jones, Cleo Rodriguez, and James Braun, it had never been completed. NOTE:The principal characters in this story are, of course, Reynie and Jacqueline, so any mention of the others will generally be only to describe them or to help further the plot. As the misfit bunch of programmers and one secretary trundled through the pipeworks, water dripping from above, they were visited by various species of rat, which Samuel happily identified. It was Gina who led the way, because her red hair was most distinguishable. Following a short ways back were Reynie and Jacqueline, standing astride, then, in single file, Sam, Sammy, James and Cleo. Below the city was an intricate (and mostly abandoned) sea of various railway pieces, (and an actual sea of water) which some of those too poor to afford residence in the city had taken to rebuilding and using for transportation. When Reynie said traveling by Pipe, he referred to renting one of the makeshift trains that traveled like worms through the disarrayed tracks. At last, the group arrived, out of breath (generally, computer addicts and programmers aren't the healthiest) at a cardboard box with a very disgruntled, bearded man behind it.
"'Choo want wiff us?"
Reynie prodded Jacqueline, reasoning that she probably had the best chance of getting a ride.
"We need a ride into Nova."
He raised his two very bushy eyebrows.
"And we're willing to pay."
"Hammuch?"
At this point, Reynie stepped in.
"Name your price."
"Bout fiddy transferables. Can't do nuffink in uzzer places uzzerwise."
He smiled a malignant and toothy grin after his request.
"Alright. We'll pay in advance."
Reynie handed him his neatly folded payment.
"You ha' dat much?"
"All of us, together. Not just me."
"Ferget t'rails, son. We'll travel in style."
So it was that the staff from Calibur (in a rather ungainly manner) moved themselves into a large, rusted canoe. The scavenger they had talked to proved much kinder than they had thought, allowing the computer autopilot to steer, and performed a very heartwarming rendition of 'If it hadn't been for love' on his ukelele, which was made of shoelaces, pipes, and cardboard. As it is with most trips, it wasn't long before someone had to pee.
"Remember, back at your place, when you had me cryptocall the Sams?"
Reynie nodded.
"Well, you were in the bathroom; but I never went."
Gina gesticulated hopelessly and shook her head, sending her hair swaying back and forth. She crossed her legs lightly.
"How much longer do we have?"
"T'Nover? 'Bout a three 'ar trip."
"Doncha know." said Jacqueline in a rather wistful voice.
"Are we making any stops?"
"Sure, fer yeh guys. Paid me most I seent in fordy years. Care t'find out ho' I got dun here inna firs' place?"
Gina had to pee, but she was kind of interested in why he was down here.
"Well, go on."
He had similar habits to her, where he would tell a bit of story, then pause for dramatic effect. Because the whole tale is too long to print here, a simplified version will ensue.
The man had been a poor student, and so had gotten a job building an extension under the city. They payed him well for it, because the job was dangerous. He made several friends, one of whom was named Nino. He continued quickly. The reason the man was down under the city is because he didn't want to go to jail. At further inquiry about it, the old man continued. Gina shifted her hand subtly from her stomach between her legs. Nino was a good friend of his, he said, but the depths claim all equally, he said. Robbie, and Jared, and John, and Nino. All dead. And the superiors had attempted to blame him. So for forty years, he'd been a wanted man, hiding out under the city, not daring travel upwards, because he feared arrest.
"Na, tell me 'bout youse guises. Why's yeh hidin' out for?"
Reynie explained their predicament, minus the device's discovery, only mentioning that they needed to get crucial information somewhere undetected.
"Ah. Na' sammuch unlike meself, eh?"
Gina was visibly distressed, as the man's story, along with Reynie's prattle had taken about forty minutes. She rubbed her legs together, then crossed them more tightly. Though she knew the answer, she asked the two questions anyways.
"Is there a bathroom? Are we there yet?"
The decrepit old man turned away from his glowing blue screen.
"Bafferms? We jes' go in the wadder. An' we still got two an' some change lef' 'fer' we gethair."
Gina blushed a deep scarlet, and rested her hand over her bladder. She winced.
"Can I go when we get there?"
She made the pleading eyes of a schoolgirl who's been denied a restroom visit at Reynie, who, for some reason, everyone thought was in charge.
"Can't use public loos. They can track us via DNA."
Gina pouted and uncrossed her legs, then pushed them (if possible) closer together.
"Where am I gonna go, then?"
Reynie had never heard someone make a noise because the need to urinate was so urgent, but Gina actually whimpered. Reynie thought for a few moments, then decided to deliver the rather sordid truth.
"You have two options. Your pants or the water."
"I'm not going in there," huffed Gina indignantly.
Cleo had been silent almost the entire ride, but she turned to Gina.
"Your pants, then?"
Gina shoved Cleo and resumed her pouting. For ten more minutes, the programmers made awkward chatter, while Gina grew more desperate, at some points even standing up and crossing her legs and then her feet, hands pushed into her crotch. She sat down again, and grabbed her head. Cleo spoke again.
"Just go. It's not healthy to hold it like that."
"Why don't YOU, then?" uttered Gina with a vehemence that could have made the devil cry.
"Used to a lot. I was incontinent; I wear diapers now." Noticing how many people she ha admitted it to, Cleo fell silent, her normally dark tan cheeks a rosy pink. Gina shrieked, no longer paying any heed to others' opinions of her, and began to pee. Her private areas darkened, and the plume of water thundered into the canoe. Her pants became solid, glistening columns of urine, and the patch spread outwards until it nearly reached her hips. The captain said nothing, and went on looking at the screen. Reynie, feeling rather embarrassed himself after witnessing everything, looked at the captain's screen too. It most definitely wasn't a map of Nova.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Edited October 28, 2017 by Throw Away
Left out a word.
(see edit history) |
Hey folks! Sorry for the delay. I meant to post the second half of this story a little sooner... on the other hand, I'm running out of pre-written material, so I think I'll have to slow down soon.
Warning:
This section does have desperation in it, a little (and of both genders, briefly). However, it's mostly about sex. I was extraordinarily fortunate with my first sexual partner, who taught me a lot and was extremely gentle with a depressed and confused young man, and that experience influenced this part of the story a lot. But even with a good teacher I had a lot of surprises! I know a lot of people don't get so lucky on their first time, so to speak, and I can't help that; but at least I can write about it. So this is partly for the virgins in the audience, or at least for the virgins with penises. But maybe it'll be useful for some other folks. too. Hope so, anyway!
Want to get caught up on Parker's story so far?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (first half)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Parker woke up abruptly. Someone was moving around the room. Meagan was still in bed with him, though—it was a small enough bed that there was no mistaking that. They’d kicked off the blankets in the night, which meant that… they were both naked.
Parker opened his eyes. In the dim light, he recognized Meagan’s roommate Dacy. Of course! She’d given them the night alone, for which he was profoundly grateful… but she had to leave today, and so she was trying to stealth-pack. She was certainly being quiet, but noise was inevitable.
Parker had no idea what to do. If he pulled the sheet back up to cover himself (and Meagan), it would be incredibly obvious to Dacy that she’d woken them up. If he didn’t, though, that meant she was getting a good look at Parker’s ass—his cock, at least, was tucked up against Meagan’s butt—and she was getting a look at her stark-naked roommate, because Meagan was lying facing her.
The final detail that made everything even more of a problem: he needed to pee.
He kept his eyes closed and held still. Dacy would be done eventually, and would be out the door and gone for good.
Waiting is hard when you need to piss out the last of last night’s beer, and waiting is agonizing when there is no way to tell how long you’ll need to wait. What would Dacy need to pack? How long would it take? She’d be gone for a week…
Then there was a sound that made him crack an eyelid: a zipper. Was she getting ready to go, zipping up her jacket?
It turned out Dacy was about as far away from “getting ready to go” as possible: she was changing clothes, and had just dropped her jeans. Apparently she had previously removed her shirt and bra, because she was clearly naked other than her panties.
The thing about Dacy was that she was short and sweet and bubbly and curvy. Really curvy—and it extended to all her features: round face, big round blue eyes… but most of all her boobs. They seemed much too big for so short a girl. And she was bending over as she pulled the jeans off her feet, so even though she was mostly facing away from him, those boobs were quite visible as they hung down like… like…
He squeezed his eyes shut before he could think of a simile. He could hear her pull her panties down.
If I open my eyes right now I’ll get to see Dacy completely naked.
If I open my eyes right now I might never get to see Meagan completely naked ever again.
I’m actually in a room with two naked girls.
Yes, and only one of them held it for you last night! Focus on that!
He shifted slightly—partly so he could bury his face into the back of Meagan’s neck and avoid the temptation of opening his eyes, and partly so his rapidly-stiffening cock would be slightly less uncomfortable squeezed up against Meagan’s butt.
He carefully filled his mind with thoughts of Meagan’s dancing the night before, of her struggles to get them into the dorm room, of her nine hours of holding it—holding her pee, just for him!—of her piss thundering into the trash can…
Just as he thought that, he heard Dacy mutter, “What the…?”
The trash can. They hadn’t emptied the trash can. The trash bag was sitting next to the can and the can had a big puddle of pee at the bottom of it.
Dacy made a sound like a shrug and Parker heard the rustling of the trash bag as she threw away whatever she’d needed to toss.
And then, seemingly just a few seconds later, there was a flash of daylight as she slipped out the door and locked it behind her. Presumably she’d put some clothes on beforehand.
Parker was about to sit up and go to the bathroom when he realized three things in quick succession: first, he didn’t want to leave the room just yet, as Dacy would still be just outside; second, he didn’t need to leave the room as he could just pee into the trash can; and third, Dacy might have forgotten something and come running back. He shifted onto his back, glanced at the clock, but stayed in bed.
He waited for another five minutes, looked at the clock, and saw that only thirty second had passed. His bladder was tired of waiting. He got up, picked up the trash can, and—wait. He was still hard, cock aimed at the sky. He couldn’t pee yet anyway.
It was an awkward, painful minute or two before his hard-on dwindled enough for him to actually bend his cock down—and that just made things worse in both directions, because the touch of his hand and all the recent nakedness and desperation made him harden up again. He let go and started doing times tables in his head again. Finally, after what seemed way too long, his erection slackened and he could pee.
Meagan was right, that did feel pretty nice.
When he turned to get back into bed, Meagan was stirring. He lay down beside her. She rolled over, kissed him, and murmured, “What time is it?”
He told her.
“God no,” she said, and rolled back over.
There was no going back to sleep for him, however. He didn’t feel like he’d gotten enough rest, but there were three big thoughts chasing each other through his head, but with three packs of tiny little thoughts buzzing around the big ones:
I just saw Dacy’s boobs holy shit is she big you could lose yourself in those you could seriously fuck them she is so much bigger than Meagan oh fuck Meagan
Meagan held her pee for me that was the best thing ever wait even better than Lara? probably yeah because maybe Meagan will do it again she was so hot when she went almost slack-jawed with the relief of letting go I can’t wait to do that again but first
We’re gonna have sex I can’t believe it I’m gonna lose my virginity finally I love Meagan so much she is so amazingly hot I can’t wait I can’t wait I can’t wait—wait! what if she finds out about Dacy
I just saw Dacy’s boobs should I tell Meagan? she will totally know something’s up she can tell if I’m lying I’d better tell her but what if Meagan gets mad? do I dare tell her? what if she decides she doesn’t wanna have sex? I’d better not tell her because
We’re gonna have sex and she’s been hurt I’d better tell her but before or after because We’re gonna have sex when she wakes up can’t it wait until after? I really really wanna have sex with Meagan because
Meagan held her pee for me she said “I am so close to pissing my pants right now” and she tried to hold it for me even when she was naked and bursting and just about to go but I said “wait” and she did and she made me cum so much I went over her shoulder and her shoulders are so sexy definitely more sexy than Dacy’s and Dacy didn’t hold her pee for me I’d better tell Meagan…
When Meagan finally did roll onto her back and stretch and give him a sultry look, Parker was once again a mass of nerves. This didn’t seem to register with her right away. She gave him a kiss, then a caress, and they just made out for a moment. Then she said, “Hey, hot stuff. What’s wrong?”
She can tell when I’m lying “I saw Dacy’s boobs”—and it was a second before he realized he’d blurted that out.
“Well, I gotta say, I was hoping for a ‘Good morning,’ first, but mmkay. Tell me.”
So he did.
She laughed.
“You’re not mad?"
“Well, I have to say, I am not 100% thrilled you saw her.”
“Because of consent?”
“Yes, and for a couple other reasons. But you did your best to be a good boy and dang but that trash can story is funny.”
“You can blame it on me later,” Parker said, grateful he’d thought of this.
“Oh, believe me, I will, especially since some of the pee in there right now is yours anyway. But my guess is that she won’t mention it. Think about it, she saw both of us naked too, and if she brings it up… it was just accidents all around. So don’t sweat it. After all, it’s Spring Break! And besides,” she added, “I wanna give you the other half of your present.”
His heart started racing.
“Ready for this?”
“I think so...”
She grinned. “Just relax. I’ll get you there.”
She cradled his cock in her hand. It went hard almost immediately. She sat up, bent over, and kissed it. Harder still. She got up on her knees and for a second he thought she was going to climb on top of him right then. But instead she reached over to her small bedside table and pulled out a small plastic bottle. “Some for you...” she said, squeezing a little clear liquid onto his cock, “...and some for me,” she said, putting a little drop on her finger and sliding it between her legs. She rubbed herself for a moment. Then she took his hand, gave him a similar drop on a finger, and said, “All right, hot stuff. Touch me.”
His hand only trembled slightly as he felt between her legs.
“Mmkay, you are a little too high,” she said. “Lower. ...Lower, please.”
He did as he was told.
“Ahh,” she said. “Yup, that’s the spot. Now, don’t move your hand. Can you feel that little nub, right under your finger?”
“I think so.”
“That’s my clit. Or the tip of my clit, anyway. Turns out clits are bigger than most people think… So just rub that spot a little bit. Up and down or side to side or circles, doesn’t matter, just stay there. ...Yup, you got it.” She lay back against the bedstead, then a second later grabbed her pillow, shoved it between her freckles and the bedstead, and leaned back again. Her movement dislodged his hand a bit, but she took it in hers, steered it back, and when that didn’t quite do the trick, said, “Lower. A little more. Okay, that’s good.”
He stroked her for what felt like a long time. His wrist, unused to that particular angle, started to hurt, but he kept going—especially when he stopped fixating on her clit and looked at the whole of her. She sat, hands resting palms-down on the bed at her sides, eyes mostly closed, just a fleck of their green still visible, mouth hanging slightly open, breathing deeper now. As he watched, her hands clenched slightly at the fabric, then let go.
I’m doing that to her. I’m making her feel that good.
“This is to get me all wet and warmed up,” she said, a little breathless. “And it’s working.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m not complaining. Except…”
“Hmm?”
“Can I switch hands?”
She grinned, eyes still closed. “Of course. In fact, let me teach you something else. You shouldn’t need any lube.” She reached down with one hand to spread her inner lips, and used the other to grab one of his (his left hand, the non-sore one) and steer it down, farther down than he expected. His fingers found a warm way waiting for him.
“Can I…?”
“Uh-huh. Just push in.”
“It’s kinda slippery!”
“That’s what we want, huh? Mmm. Yeah. All the way in… now. Curl your finger. Like you’re beckoning to me. Ah.” Her eyes and hands squeezed shut. “Yeah. Fuck yeah. Keep doing that. That feels really fuckin’ good.”
“Good,” he said. “I want you to come.”
“One thing at a time, hon,” she said with a smile, opening her eyes. “Right now, I’m thinking about you. You ready?”
“I… um… I’m not so hard any more.”
She glanced at him. “That’s easy to fix.” She stroked him a few times, and he did indeed stiffen up quick. “’Kay, where did you leave the condoms?”
A moment’s scramble found them; a moment’s stroking got him hard again; and then she knelt beside him, expertly opened the condom wrapper, gave him one more dab of lube, and unrolled the condom onto his hard-on.
“That feels weird,” he said.
“It’s not great, no,” she said. “But we need it. No condom, no action. Mmkay? I have literally sent guys out to buy some in the middle of sex.”
“Oh, I get it.”
“I just wish you’d practiced once or twice… I wish I’d remembered to tell you to practice… mmkay. We’ll be fine. So. Ready to get inside?”
“Yes please.”
“’Kay.” She knelt astride him. “Lie back. Lie back and relax.”
“I think I can do one of those...”
She grinned and kissed him and said, “Deep breaths.” She took him in hand, positioned herself, and steered him in as she slid down onto him.
“Ahhhhh...” she said. “How does it feel?”
Weird. My hand never felt like this. But… “It’s nice.”
She raised herself up on her knees a bit, let herself down. “Ahh. Mm. Yeah. Feels pretty good to me.”
She rode him for a little while. But he grew no more relaxed. The weird sensation (so unlike anything he was used to) wasn’t doing much for him. She was beautiful, she was having sex with him, he literally had his penis in a vagina for the first time in his life, he loved having her breasts bare right in front of his face, it was everything he’d dreamed of… so why was he thinking of Dacy’s boobs, why was he not loving this?
She noticed, paused her thrusting. “Relax. Like, for real, hon. You can’t come if you’re all locked up like that.” She didn’t mention something they could both feel: that he was getting softer.
“I’m sorry…”
“What for? A lot of guys have a hard time on their first time.”
“Uh, I’m not sure I’m having a hard time here.”
She giggled. “I’m glad you made that joke, sweetie, because I didn’t dare.”
He had to snort at that, but he really was stressing. “It just kinda… doesn’t feel right.”
“Mmmmkay. This is why I wanted to you practice a bit with the condom. But sex does feel different from jacking off.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “So forget how it feels and just listen to me.”
She slowly started to thrust again. “Remember last night?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Remember how I drank all that beer and water and held it for nine hours?”
“Uh-huh...”
“I have not had to pee that bad since… I don’t know when. So bad.”
They could both feel him stiffening again. Meagan clearly took this as a good sign and ran with it. “I was absolutely desperate. I’d been dying to pee for at least an hour.”
“I saw you dancing.”
“Yup. I was totally squirming all over the place. I hoped you’d notice.”
“I was so turned on when I figured it out.”
“I know. What did you like best?”
“Oh… uh… all of it. But I loved it right when you were on the edge…”
“Naked, helpless, almost about to explode?” She was warming to her work.
“Yeah. Then. When I asked you to wait. Could you have held it any longer?”
“Not then. Not naked. Not after nine hours. I was literally leaking. There were drops of pee on my thigh.”
“You were so amazing.”
“I know. And guess what? I still am. Wannna know a secret?”
“Of course.”
She leaned close. “I need to pee right now. You got to pee in the trash can, but I haven’t had a chance yet. I always need to pee when I get up in the morning, but I haven’t gone yet. Know why?”
“I think I can guess…”
“I’m holding it for you. When you had your finger in me? It felt amazing. And I nearly peed right then and there. Put your hand on my bladder.”
He did as he was told.
“Push. Just a little.”
He did. She winced—and squeezed his hard-on tight. “Ah. Okay. I know I asked for that, but don’t do it again, please.” She started thrusting a little faster. “So I’m holding it for you. I’m not gonna pee until you come in me. Which really puts you in a win-win situation, doesn’t it? If it takes you a while to come, the longer I have to hold and the more I have to pee.”
He shudder-sighed. “Do you really need to go?”
“Of course. I needed to go the second I woke up. I went back to sleep to make myself more desperate.”
“You’re amazing.”
“Thank you. And take your time, lover. Take your time. No pressure… except right here…”
She was pumping harder, faster. The red tips of her dark hair were bouncing across the freckles of her neck and shoulder.
“Do you need to go as bad as last night?”
“Not yet. And not for a while, that was intense. But I’m definitely needing to go ASAP.”
“Will you pee in the trash can again?”
“If you want.” She leaned close, kissed him. “I’ll pee in a lot of places if you want. I’ll hold it until I have to cross my legs, and that never happens to me.” She grinned. “And you know something?”
“What?”
“You are exactly the right size in me. You are shaped just right. Your cock is pushing on my bladder a bit. It makes me need to go more, every… time… I… do… this. And it feels amazing.”
“You’re really getting off on this?”
“Mmmhmm. And I’m really getting off on how much you’re getting off on it.” She changed the rhythm, a little deeper, a little slower, a little harder.
“I’m… yeah… tell me again?”
“Tell you what again?”
“That… you… need…”
She leaned close, squeezed him tight, and whispered in his ear. “I need to pee. Right here right now. Can I pee? Please?”
“I… I… I’m…”
“Yes, you are,” she said, and squeezed him one more time. That was all it took.
A moment later she gave him another little squeeze and he gasped with the aftershock.
“Good?”
“So good.”
They sat there for a moment. She squeezed him again, and his rapidly-dwindling cock was squeezed right out.
“Whoops,” she said. “Didn’t mean to do that, I just needed to hold on a little bit tighter right then. Probably good, though, you gotta get that condom off before you go totally soft.”
“Can’t do anything until you get up.”
“Oh, all right.”
She stood, stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders, stretched her arms and back again. He sat on the edge of the bed to peel off the condom.
“Tie a knot in it,” she said, just as he reached for the trash bag. He did so, stood up, and came up behind her to hold her in his arms.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said. “And now I really really really do need to pee.”
“Can you hold it another minute or two?”
“I could hold it another hour if you wanted, but it’s always a good idea to pee right after sex, and that is something that we totally just had.”
He laughed. “Oh, okay! You should go! …Can I watch?”
“Do you want me to pee in the trash can again?”
“Yup.”
“Then you certainly can.” She squatted over it and let go. She looked up at him and grinned. “We need to work out exactly what it is you like and don’t like. I wasn’t sure how you wanted me to go. I was all ready to put on last night’s panties—well, actually, some other dirty panties, the ones from last night are too nice—and pee myself if you wanted.”
“Mmmm—I’m not sure I want that,” he said.
“Right. We’ll work it out. Now you should pee in the can again. Peeing after is a good idea for both of us.”
He didn’t need to go much, but he squeezed a little out.
She stood up, stretched again—and he realized he totally loved watching her move naked, desperate or not.
She saw the look on his face, came over, and kissed him, pulling his body to hers. “How’s it feel, losing your virginity?”
“To you? This way? Unbelievable. Totally unbelievable. Like, how on earth did I get this lucky?” He paused. “Did you come?”
She shook her head.
“Well, you wanna go back to bed, then?”
She shook her head again. “I wanna get up and outside. Plus now that I’m not full of pee, my stomach’s telling me it’s empty. I’m hungry. Oh, and you get to empty that trash can and rinse it out.”
“No problem. And I’m getting hungry, too.”
“Exactly! But thank you for offering to go back to bed for me. Now that I know how to make you come like a rocket, twice, I’m going to teach you how to do the same for me.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“And that’s why I like you, Parker. You listen. You care. You want to give back. You are, in fact, a total gentleman.”
You know what? Parker thought. This time it might actually be true.
Edited October 26, 2017 by Weasel
Posted before I was finished formatting
(see edit history) |
It was Monday between fourth and fifth period at Dennis Brigham Middle School and Chelsea Sandberg was on her third trip to the bathroom. She always went pee between classes to minimize interactions between her and the teacher. It was just how Chelsea managed her shyness. She slipped into the middle stall and took down her fuchsia stirrup pants and sat down.
“Can somebody pass me some toilet paper?!” pleaded Megan Lewis-Taggart from the stall next to Chelsea, “Please! There's nothing left in this one...”
Chelsea hated Megan Lewis-Taggart so much that she couldn't bear to even speak to her. She lifted her legs so Megan couldn't see anyone was in the stall next to her. Chelsea was still fuming mad about the time Megan asked Cory Nesmith to the winter dance before she had the chance. She hated that Megan was so pretty with her ginger curls and cute freckles across her nose. She hated that Megan had perfect vision and no big ugly glasses covered her perfect face. She hated that Megan was a popular gymnast and every boy in seventh grade's wet dream.
“Someone? Help?” Megan cried out one last time.
Chelsea held her breath so Megan couldn't hear that she was still there.
“I know you're in that stall. Come on; help a sister out!”
Chelsea remained quiet and waited for Megan to leave the bathroom before she even started to go. But Megan didn't leave. Chelsea didn't have to go too badly, but she worried she wouldn't make it a whole hour through math class. The bell rang and she heard Megan leave. That meant she only had seconds to get to class. Chelsea got up and pulled her underwear and stirrup pants back on, feeling instant regret. She definitely had to pee now, but it was too late. There was nothing more embarrassing than being late for Mr. Sorensen's math class; he forced latecomers to stand up for the entirety of the class and called on them constantly for answers. It was far more torturous than Ms. van der Beake's forced karaoke for latecomers to seventh grade English.
Chelsea ran down the hall to room 104; she could feel her bladder expanding as she ran and felt incredibly uncomfortable. When she got to class, Mr. Sorensen gave her a skeptical death stare. “Ms. Sandberg, you're late.”
Chelsea's face went bright red. “P-please...”
Mr. Sorensen gave her an evil half-smile. “You know what this means.”
Chelsea stared down at her white Nike high tops and pulled her long, kit sweater down over her bum. She shuffled quickly to her seat and put down her books on the desk, but continued standing. She felt pressure building. She really needed to pee now. She wished she had just given Megan the toilet paper and gone earlier. Chelsea bit her lip and tried to listen to Mr. Sorensen's lesson on polynomials, but she just couldn't concentrate. She shifted her weight between feet, trying not to draw attention to herself. She squeezed her legs together tightly, hoping to stop the inevitable.
“Ms. Sandberg! What did you come up with for number four on last night's homework?”
Chelsea gulped. Her book wasn't even open to last night's homework; she was too focused on not peeing her pants. She fumbled through her workbook, crossing one leg over the other, desperately holding on. “Um... I, uh... I...” Chelsea stuttered. It was now or never. Her face was turning bright red. “Mr. Sorensen, c-can I please go to the restroom?” Chelsea was shaking.
Mr. Sorensen rolled his eyes. “If you must.”
Chelsea adjusted herself and weakly smiled, making her way slowly out of the classroom.
Megan raised her hand and shot Chelsea a mean stare.
“Yes Megan?” Mr. Sorensen called.
“Sir, I saw Chelsea in the bathroom before class. I don't think she needs to go. I think she's up to something.”
Chelsea froze; cold sweat dripped down her back, invisible to her classmates due to her over-sized sweater.
“Is this true, Ms. Sandberg?”
Chelsea's eyes widened. She couldn't tell a lie, for fear it would go horribly wrong. “Yes sir, but I couldn't...”
“Don't lie to me, Ms. Sandberg. Please sit down and find your homework. Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Lewis-Taggart.”
Chelsea shuffled back to her seat. The ache in her privates was growing and growing. She was sure she wouldn't make it through class. She leafed through her workbook and found the homework, but was still unable to concentrate.
“The answer you got for number four was....?”
“Um, XY equals...” Chelsea grabbed her throbbing crotch and adjusted her legs, “3X minus 2 plus Y to the power of three times four...”
“Perfect,” Mr. Sorensen smiled. “Mr. Nesmith, what did you get for number five?”
Chelsea usually daydreamed about Cory when he spoke, but today her focus lay elsewhere as she scrunched her legs together, trying so hard not to draw more attention than she already had. She started dancing from foot to foot, lightly. She could feel herself losing the battle.
“Ms. Sandberg, number six?”
“S-sir, please...” begged Chelsea, “I really need to use the restroom...” Her hands were safely between her legs, trying to keep the pee at bay.
“Class is nearly over. What was your answer to number six?”
“P-p-please!” Chelsea cried. She couldn't hold it any longer. A stream of urine drenched her right leg, soaking right through her pants. And with that, another dark stream followed, and another. Chelsea's hands fell to her sides. She went silent, looking at all the other kids in her class. Then came the laughter. She slunk down into her chair and pulled her sweater over her wet pants and began to cry. |
The Middle School Meanie: Chapter 2
The bell rang and Chelsea sat there, defeated, in a puddle of her own urine. Her head was down on her desk, covered by the sleeves of her knit sweater. She was shaking with fear and embarrassment. As everyone got up and awkwardly left the classroom, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Ms. Sandberg," Mr. Sorensen said, "Class is over. I suggest you change before getting the bus home."
Chelsea sniffled and got up slowly, feeling her pants stick to her legs. She pulled the sweater down as far as it would go. "I-I'm so sorry..." she stuttered.
Mr. Sorensen said nothing and watched her shuffle away in shame.
Chelsea headed to her locker and grabbed her gym bag before heading to the bathroom. She had a pair of sweat pants that she could probably get away with wearing for the rest of the day. When she got to the bathroom, she heard giggling from inside. She opened the door to find it was Megan and her friends, Sara-Beth and Rhiannon.
Chelsea turned around quickly, but Megan called after her, “Hey Chelsea! Do you need a diaper?!” Megan threw a maxipad and hit Chelsea in the back of the head.
Chelsea said nothing and kept walking with Megan shouting behind, “I hope you don't have to go to the bathroom... cause this one's occupied!”
Chelsea pulled her sweater down and awkwardly ran down the hall to the other bathroom.
There were three other girls waiting in line to use the toilets. Chelsea recognized them as ninth graders. She was too shy to acknowledge any of them and stared down at her shoes, hoping they wouldn't notice her.
“Ugh, I really need to go...” said the girl in front of Chelsea. She stroked her hand through her braids and did a less-than-desperate pee-pee dance. “I can't believe there are only two girls' bathrooms in this whole school!” The other girl turned to Chelsea, “Can you believe it?”
Chelsea shook her head.
The other girl looked down at Chelsea's wet pants and giggled, “Oh my gosh.” She tapped her friend on the shoulder, “Oh my gosh, Jenny, that girl actually peed her pants.” The second girl in line burst out laughing.
“What is she, in kindergarten?” Jenny giggled.
The first girl in line turned around to see what the other two were laughing about and took notice of Chelsea's accident.
Chelsea suppressed the urge to head back to the other bathroom. At least the ninth graders weren't throwing pads at her.
The girl with braids turned around to get another look at Chelsea, “Oh my gosh, maybe she's retarded?”
“She's not retarded, don't be so rude,” Jenny replied, “She's obviously just embarrassed.”
Chelsea didn't want to say anything; she didn't even feel like defending herself. She wished she were invisible and wiped another tear from her cheek. She wondered what her parents would say when she came home with a bag of wet clothes.
Three stalls opened up and the three girls in front of her went in. Chelsea checked her watch. It was already 3:15. The last school bus heading to her block left in five minutes. She knew she couldn't wait until the ninth graders were finished – she quickly pulled off her fuchsia stirrup pants and underwear and put on her gray sixth grade volleyball team sweatpants from her last school.
Chelsea shoved her wet clothes into her Jansport backpack and ran to the bus. She barely made it on. Chelsea sat down next to one of the girls from her English class, Elisa. She smiled at Chelsea and then went back to her book. Elisa loved to read and wasn't big on socializing, which meant Chelsea could relax and not worry about saying anything stupid or awkward on her way home. She sighed deeply and sat back in her seat, thanking God she had gotten the bus. Chelsea's parents were rarely home from work in time to get her from school, so she would have to wait until after five for them to pick her up. They also saw this as a burden.
Chelsea hugged her backpack close to her and thought about the day and how mean it was of Mr. Sorensen to not let her pee. She wondered if his teachers did that to him when he was in school. It made Chelsea angry. She looked at her watch, realizing it would take at least another fifteen minutes to get home. The time frame and after school traffic made her regret not going pee before leaving the school. The bus ride was pretty bumpy and Chelsea had been in more desperate situations before. She barely had to go, but knew it would only get worse here on in. Chelsea reached into her backpack, hoping there was a book she could read to get her mind off of her situation, but she had forgotten to throw in her Babysitter's Club book. Chelsea sighed.
Elisa looked over, “You forget something?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah, my book. I don't have anything to read...” Chelsea replied, fidgeting slightly.
“What book are you reading?”
“Um, Babysitter's Club...”
“Oh, which one?!” Elisa put down her book, “I've read all ten of them!”
“Number 8, Boy-Crazy Stacey. I'm only half way through, though... It's on my nightstand; I forgot to throw it in my backpack.” Chelsea adjusted herself. She could feel herself getting more desperate by the second. The bus went over another bump and she squeezed her legs together. She looked out the window for a second to see where they were – Adams Rd. - almost home.
“I loved that one! I mean, I liked all of them,” Elisa blabbed, “Have you read Chain Letter?!”
Chelsea shook her head, jiggling her legs.
Elisa passed Chelsea the book, “It's like a creepy story about this girl who gets this weird letter...”
Chelsea wasn't listening. She held the book in one hand and held onto her privates with the other. She was starting to get worried that she wouldn't make it. “Mmm-hmm...” She squeezed her legs together as Elisa explained the first half of the book.
The bus came to a halt and Chelsea felt a gush of urine splash out onto her clean sweatpants. She looked out the window. Just one more stop. She could make it... she hoped.
Elisa broke out of her excited whirlwind one-sided conversation on literary synopsis and stared at Chelsea. “Are... are you alright?” She noticed Chelsea's obvious discomfort.
Chelsea nodded weakly and handed the book back to Elisa, “I, um... I just really have to go pee.”
“Why didn't you just go at school?” Elisa asked matter-of-factly.
“Long story,” Chelsea whispered, gritting her teeth. She hoped Megan and her goons weren't on this bus. They got off at the same stop she did. Chelsea crossed one leg over the other and held herself with both hands.
“You can make it,” Elisa cheered her on, quietly, “We're almost there.”
The bus took off; with each bump Chelsea could feel her bladder bursting. She could see the stop and her house. Not much longer...
The bus came to a halt and Chelsea felt another gush of urine escape her urethra. Chelsea grimaced; this was her stop! As she got up, the urge only got worse. “Bye... Elisa...” she waved with one hand, holding herself with the other. Chelsea slowly made her way off the bus, gently stepping as if with each stride she ran the risk of horrible embarrassment. She made it off the bus safely and saw Megan, Sara-Beth, and Rhiannon waiting for her. She fumbled through her backpack for her keys, pee-pee dancing desperately. She could feel herself losing the battle for the second time today.
“Looks like you need another diaper!” Megan called, throwing another pad at desperate Chelsea.
“Oh my god, she wet her pants again!” Sara-Beth exclaimed, pointing at the barely visible wet lines in the crotch of Chelsea's gray sweatpants.
Chelsea found the keys at the bottom of her bag and decided to make a run for it. She held herself and made a desperate scramble for her door. She struggled to get the keys in the door, dancing from foot to foot, but finally managed to. As she stepped inside, she felt another, larger, gush of urine drench her leg. She stuck her hand down her pants and held on for dear life as she ran to the bathroom.
When she got to the toilet, she was too desperate to pull down her sweatpants. She sat there on the toilet and pulled them down, but not enough. She soaked herself in a moment of bliss as she opened the nearly broken flood gates.
Edited November 3, 2017 by morgan91
(see edit history) |
Seven generations ago, the city of Green Massif was a very different place. It was so small that the marauding Tarnigants didn't even bother ransacking it during the Mylincian War, and so isolated that the war was over for 3 years before anyone in Green Massif heard it had begun. So when an abominable monster from unknown lands came to terrorize the village, there was no one there to help them. The simple folk of Green Massif had to toughen up or die.
The monster, which came to be called the Bower Gulper, was quite a thing to behold. "Stories and woodcuts do not do it justice," they say, but there is nothing else to know it by, since everyone who saw it is now gone. The town hall is built into the shell it would retract into to sleep, giving the people of today some idea of its size. Even though the shell looked like a colossal example of something that would be cast upon a beach by the waves, the monster didn't look like it came from the depths. This is probably why some say the shell belonged to another monster it slew in battle, and that it merely appropriated it as a soldier crab does. But none of this is really known.
What is clear is that the monster was a beast made of bones and red blood, not some soft and oddly-shaped sea creature. It was covered almost entirely in scales that cut as keenly as knives and protected as well as full plate armor. It was shaped something like a serpent. Its long body was girded by yoke-shaped plates of impenetrable armor, and interlocking scales protected its underbelly.
Its vast and peculiar body bore myriad curious features. Many men died trying to find a weak spot. Eyes studded its body and formed a mosaic on its face, but these were protected by thick eyelids that would snap into place too quickly for any arrow or spear to pierce the soft parts beneath. The multitude of eyes also prevented anyone from sneaking up on the beast. Its head was shaped like a cone which came to a blunt end where its mouth opened. Two giant horns grew upon this cone, and another jutting out from underneath.
In that part beneath the head there was a place where the scales seemed to thin out, and the movement of muscles and veins could be seen. But it was directly adjacent to a horn and a pair of jaws, so no lancer could make it there, and no archer could shoot with enough precision to pierce any of those veins. Its jaws weren't so very powerful, but they didn't have to be. What it couldn't bite to pieces, it could swallow whole. It would sometimes be seen picking rocks from the mountainside and swallowing them, so the food it ate could be ground up inside its stomach. Many different figures have been given for the number of its limbs, but I can say safely say it was more than three pairs, each with tearing claws.
It was an unpleasant time in which to live, in many different ways. You may already have noticed that a great many of the antique chamber pots that can be seen today date to the time of the monster (identifiable by their blue glaze and the angular patterns decorating them). It is said that this was because more were made during that year than any other time in history. You see, the fear that grasped the village was so strong that people were afraid to go to the outhouse alone at night, and chose instead to use their own home as a place of easement or else suffer 'til the morning.
After a while, the monster didn't even leave the city after its rampages. It feared the people so little that it would simply tuck itself into its shell and go to sleep. It was bad enough being attacked by a monster every few nights, but to be able to see it sitting there at all through the day was a chilling reminder of the threat.
The villagers' spirits dropped further. Warriors performed even more poorly against the monster. A quarter of the town moved away to where the shell wouldn't be in their vision at all times, living in tents. Of course, this made them even less safe. Meanwhile, lances, battering rams, and fire were used against its sleeping form, to no avail. Before falling into slumber, it always rolled into a shape that left the thickest plates of its armor blocking the entrance to its shell. The only times the monster left the village was to drink from a nearby stream, and to visit a remote location where it disposed of what remained of the devoured villagers. Attempts were made to catch it off guard at these places, but the monster was too canny to fall to a surprise attack.
There was one warrior in Green Massif who was not only bold enough to fight the Bower Gulper, but crafty enough to defeat it when so many others had failed. This valiant challenger was not a knight, nor a man, nor even a boy.
Diceanct Gemniss was a small girl with great ambitions. Let me describe her. Her hair was red almost beyond hair's capacity to be red. She didn't put much fuss into grooming it, so it flowed all over her head and shoulders, and looked like a flaming torch when the wind caught hold of it. Inside she was just as fiery. A spark could be seen in those sapphire eyes of hers. She had the long lashes, thin eyebrows, and shapely lips that would usually catch the fellows' attention. But in her case they were more likely to be covered with dirt than makeup. She was small, even for a young lady, but the muscles that clothed her tiny skeleton could do incredible things.
While the other little girls had been gathering flowers and braiding their hair, she had been outrunning hunting dogs and scaling mossy ruins. While the other girls had been learning to sew and cook, she had learned to hunt wild animals and to tan and stretch hide to fashion leather armor. Such was her way. Some thought she was mad. Others that she was really a boy. For all these reasons, the boys never brought her flowers or asked her to dances. But she was sought after in hunts and sports and other boyish pastimes.
She wished to be taught in the ways of a knight, but such a thing was unheard of in those days. Many adults disdained her, as did some children, telling her she should be in a kitchen or at a spinning wheel. Even those boys who enjoyed having her as a comrade thought it was unfitting for her to be a warrior, such was the strength of the taboo.
But she did have some things in common with the other girls of Green Massif. For instance, she had been eagerly awaiting the annual festival held for the boys and girls who had recently become men and women. Her year had finally arrived. When the threat of the monster became so pervasive that the festival was deemed to dangerous to hold, these children were heartbroken. But this girl Dicea instead became truly angry. The day of that announcement, she separated herself from any human contact. She was sighted in the tallest branch of the tallest tree in the countryside, stewing with rage but also working over strategies. There, hanging upside down so the blood would nourish her brain in abundance, she devised the perfect plan.
She procured some daziper oil, a sweet-smelling yet potently poisonous concoction. Then she went to her family's home and began to soak her armor in it. That very night, she wrapped up her inconveniently large bosom, slid into her newly fortified armor, sheathed her hunting dagger in her belt, and went off to wait for the Bower Gulper to come out of its shell to snatch up the cattle that were being herded nearby.
The villagers who witnessed the ensuing battle did not think Dicea fought valiantly. They thought she was simply mad. She taunted the monster while armed with only a dagger, and hardly defended herself at all. It wasn't long before the colossal beast was biting at her wantonly with its massive jaws. It was unable to penetrate her tough leather armor, but that didn't prevent it from wolfing her down. One swallow and she was gone, armor, dagger, and all.
The onlookers wept. She had been their best hope, and would probably be their last. But in a moment, the daziper oil in which she had soaked her armor had its intended effect, and the monster disgorged her, whole and alive. This had been her plan all along, because it gave her access to the monster's one vulnerable spot. As she was cast from its mouth, she caught hold of the horn that protruded from its chin. This placed her just beyond the reach of the monster's foremost pair of arms. With her legs gripping the horn like a vice, her upper body was freed to locate and cut the great veins in the beast's unprotected neck. In moments, it fell down dead.
That day, a huge celebration was held in honor of Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer. She was modest, and didn't want to receive all of the attention. She made it known that this would replace the coming of age festival of which the people her age had been robbed. And so the young women got to show off their fancy clothes and reduced girths after all. There was a great feast. All the tasty food in the village was devoured in one afternoon, but no one cared. And there was much song and dance. But more of the young men danced with Dicea than with anyone else, because, even with her body covered in cuts and bruises, she was still the most winsome woman in the land. She was the one to which they owed their lives. If not for her, they would be no more than skeletons in piles of dung.
The year went on, the village rebuilt, and the suitors never left Dicea alone for a moment. She had much fun sparring with them all. The toughest and boldest of them all won her hand in marriage, although he never did win a wrestling match with her. Their combined warriors' blood, propagated by their many children, is the reason that today Green Massif has the most valorous fighters in the land, and the most feisty women.
Now that you have heard this legend, which is still on the tongues of many after seven generations have passed, I will tell you the true story. Like many oft-told tales, the story of the Bower Gulper's death takes detours around certain truths. I know this because my grandfather had the privilege of studying Diceanct Gemniss with a thoroughness that is impossible today. Many relics from her era, such as her personal diary, are now lost. But the secret true history has been told among my family, and now I tell it to you.
Women are a secretive sex, and it can be hard for we men to believe that each one has a full set of bowels tucked into her person, which function just as they do in a man or a beast. Combine this with the way we make idols of the heroes of the past, and it seems absurd to suggest that Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer could ever have sat on an outhouse bench. But before there were legends or paintings or statues of her there was a real person who was as much flesh and blood as you or I. I can tell you with certainty that, beneath the well-developed muscles of her torso, were nestled the five feet of bowels that are allotted to every mortal man and woman. I can tell you with equal certainty that each inch of that organ was full when she went into battle. The reader must keep that in mind as I retell the end of the story.
Tellers of this tale supply its heroine with only a dagger, but she actually took a sword and shield into battle. She had even stolen a catapult from the city's defenders. This was the keystone of her cunning plan to vanquish the beast that had conquered so many. She believed the best place to strike was between the plates girding its back and sides. These came very far apart when it twisted its body, and she thought she could pierce the soft flesh between them using a poisoned sword. A long lance would have been better, but she didn't have one, nor would she know how to use one if she stole it. But she was confident in her abilities as a swordswoman, and in the potency of the poison she had found.
When she faced it that night, she had a plan which the tellers of the tale have forgotten, it having been a miserable failure.
She let some cattle out of their pen and goaded them toward the shell of the sleeping monster. The farmer was upset, but didn't shout her away from his livestock for fear that the mad girl might attack him. The beast ventured out to snatch up these tasty morsels when Dicea did the maddest thing yet. She had lured one of the cattle onto the catapult, and propelled it out past the edge of the town. The Bower Gulper rapidly jerked its neck to catch the flying treat, as she had hoped. But the exposure of the tender flesh between its scales was fleeting. When she charged its neck, it was already coming back around. The force of that failed stab was so great that the sword flew out of her hands. When the beast reared its head, she had to draw back instead of retrieving her weapon. In a moment it had been lost beneath the great serpent's advancing body.
She tried to ward it off with a torch, but it was no use. She hid in a gap in a wall, hoping the beast would pass her by. But it used its awful curved claws to fish her out of that crack. She put up her great shield, which reeked of daziper, between herself and the hideous fiend. But it scratched and batted at the poisoned iron, and eventually snatched it from the girl's bloodied hands. She reclaimed her torch and tried to burn its hand to discourage it, but it would not leave her alone. Soon it presented its jaws instead of its arms. It was determined to eat this irksome pest. No plan of defense could have prevented the moment when its teeth caught her body. When the monster's jaws closed, they left Dicea in a compromising position. The armor kept her torso unharmed, but those shark-like serrated teeth were all about her, and she could not move an arm to draw her dagger without wounding herself deeply. The torch still burned, but didn't singe the flesh of the mouth enough for the monster to react. She tried with all her might to kick its teeth out and make her escape, but they would not be broken. The only thing defending her body was her armor. The monster no doubt tasted the daziper oil she had soaked it in, but it showed no concern for the poison. It certainly wasn't vile enough to make it spit her out.
As it tried to chew its meal, Dicea's arms and legs received some cuts, but the bulk of her body was spared. The monster grew tired of trying to puncture her armor with its teeth, and gulped her down whole. She tried to make herself too large to swallow, but she still slid down that soft and slimy tube without making any trouble for the monster. She was carried for hundreds of feet before finally being deposited in a stuffy, damp, hot place. She fell onto her side, and was cemented to the floor by a sticky coating. The torchlight revealed to her a saddle-shaped pink chamber, empty save for her and a nest of sharp rocks. The spongy walls pulsed with life, and seething hot fluid was rising to meet her. Then the flame went dark.
But the ending of the battle, as you have heard it before, is true. She did receive a second chance at life. When she was thrown out of the monster's mouth she was shocked to be alive, but she came to her senses quickly enough to cling to the horn of its chin and avoid a nasty fall. And she wasn't too overcome with fear to take advantage of her position. She drew her dagger and slashed madly until the beast fell to the earth, and her with it. Even then, she hacked at it frantically until its neck was a pulp and the remains of its head were totally separate from the body. Her hysteria finally ceased, and she collapsed to the ground and slowly caught her breath.
Once the villagers were convinced that her mind wasn't gone, they showered her with praise. She found herself telling and retelling the story of her strategy and victory to an adoring crowd, not caring that only parts of it were true. The women were empowered to know that a humble member of their sex had achieved such a feat. The men's eyes were ablaze with fondness.
The jubilant mood began to shift with the first mention of an unpleasant smell. It was at first assumed that the dying monster had ejected its bowels' contents, but no evidence could be found of this. The smell lingered, and elicited more remarks by the minute. As this was happening, Dicea began to look more and more uneasy. She began to stammer and pause in her storytelling, and her face grew more and more red, to the point that one couldn't tell where her hair ended and her skin began. Finally, it got to where she couldn't bear it anymore. She broke down, and the emotional outpouring that resulted gave everyone in earshot a full confession. These are her own words, as recorded in her journal:
"I soiled myself! I soiled myself! You are smelling my shame. That's why the monster disgorged me. I was too atrocious for its body to contain. I might not have even turned its stomach, were this not an especially foul and voluminous expulsion. But I couldn't help myself. I thought my life was over, and was terrified, and the filth just issued forth. I had no control. As a fighter, I have been a terrible coward. The daziper oil had nothing to do with my escape. It was meant to protect me from being consumed in the first place, because I never planned to enter that awful thing's body at all. It was only through good fortune that being swallowed led to my victory. I had a plan, and it failed! It failed awfully, and I was eaten, and I defiled my garments like a child."
What she spoke was true. As it had happened, her mind collapsed in terror and despair when she found herself in complete darkness in that horrible churning pit of death, and her muscles gave out in turn. She was conscious of the consequences of this. In fact, she was conscious of little else. She recorded in her journal the feeling of her bowels purging themselves while she was powerless to halt the process. She felt a long solid mass push the seat of her pants away, then fold over and smash itself into a formless lump against her rump. More and more came out, putting space between her armor and her body. The dank atmosphere became especially atrocious. Her inability to keep her waste inside made her failure that day even more bitter.
Just when she thought she was about to suffocate, she found herself being thrust upward. Her mind ignored the disaster of her bowels, so elated she was to be alive. In the heat of the fight that ensued, and the shining splendor of her victory, she forgot all about the extra weight in her clothes. She didn't even think to go back and wash up, so lost she was in this happy moment, and now the villagers could see the pitiable thing she had done. Of course, she had proper underclothes, and all that she had produced was held inside them, and was further obscured by her armor. But, once one knew to look, they could see between her legs a mass of sagging cloth that looked like an overfilled sack of turnips, and smelled like the hole of a privy.
After finishing her speech, Dicea wept and wept, and had to be consoled like a child. The villagers emphasized that she had had the presence of mind to cling to the monster's horn and slit its throat, and that she had been brave enough to face it in the first place. But all she could think about was the pungent muck she was sitting in. She never fully regained her composure that morning, but she did eventually halt the flow of tears and sulk off to the bathhouse. She peeled from her body the clothing that she had befouled, and set it aside to bury later. Then she went about soaking and scrubbing herself until her flesh was rosy and tender. All the foul-smelling filth was removed, but the shame would not wash away. After that, she walked back to her home in her armor, nude underneath, while people stared and wondered and chuckled. There she stayed for quite some time, and would not show her face to anyone.
As word of the beast's vanquishment spread throughout the surviving villagers, so did instructions not to mention the vanquisher's lapse of continence. Still, Dicea would not be seen for some time. She was so humiliated that she wouldn't even show herself during the celebration of her victory, and it went on without her. Of course, it didn't take too long for her to realize that she was adored and respected much more than she was made the object of derision. Even as she sulked, she was sent flowers and gifts and enough clean sets of fine clothing to last her many years. And, even though she had missed her one chance at a coming of age festival, she soon had more suitors than all the other young ladies of Green Massif combined. True, some of the men were disgusted by her embarrassing mishap, but most were captivated by her. After all, a lady who can slay the greatest monster in living memory is quite a lady indeed, even if she does sometimes wreck her undergarments.
And the rest of the story is as you know, regarding her popularity, her marriage, and her dozen and two children (which were all sired by the same man, contrary to a malicious rumor you might have heard). To compensate for her own failing, she made sure they each received stern and strict toilet training, and none had a single misfortune of the bowels or bladder after their third birthday.
She was a mighty warrior. No one questions that. But she never outgrew the tendency to become deeply stricken with fear at the direst moments. Stricken right down to the bowels. Those who served with her in battle would always pretend they smelled nothing. The habit of dousing her armor with perfume continued, to hide the smells she produced due to vigorous exercise and less mentionable bodily processes. The skirt that adorned her armor, which has become such an iconic part of her legend, was something she adopted to hide her lower garments from view in case they were distended with matter she had voided.
Other female fighters embraced these practices, partly so she wouldn't feel ashamed, and they are now commonplace, even though most of these lady warriors do not know the embarrassing origin of the perfume and skirts that adorn them.
Thus goes the true story of Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer. I may catch malice for telling it, but none can find any solid proof that the popular version of the tale holds any more fact than mine. |
Based on characters from Omoandthirst.tumblr.com
Tonight was girls' night and Rose and Greg's house was the venue. Naturally Greg was away. Rose's sister Tammy had helped get everything ready and now the 2 of them were waiting for the other 3 girls to come. Tammy was already getting into the food they'd laid out.
Chantelle and Iris arrived almost simultaneously. They were both dressed their nicest but they had 2 completely different definitions of "nicest."
One was an ebony beauty with long black hair in a charming asymmetrical arrangement of kinky curls. On this fine evening she was wearing a pink bow-knot blouse, a black midi skirt with floral print, and open-toe high heels. Her satin eye-shadow and lipstick were the same shade of pink as the blouse and flowers.
The other was a Latina with a bob cut. She was a little shorter and had a slighter build. In fact her physique was average. Her adornments were anything but. Every piece of clothing she'd selected for girls' night was black except for silver-colored accessories. Metal buckles and studs were distributed throughout her black tank-top, black high-waisted shorts, and black high-heeled boots. She had a ring through her septum, and wore a pendant of a snake climbing a crucifix. Her face was made up pale but her caramel skin showed through below the neck. Tattoos of thorny vines and occasional roses ran up and down her arms. Her hair, eyebrows, mascara, eye-shadow, and lipstick were all intensely black and her naturally dark eyes fit right in.
The hostess on the other hand was dressed casual. Just sandals, jeans, and a purple tee with a soft drink logo. She was tall and slender with narrow hips and a shapely upper body. Her skin was cream, her eyes were a vivid green, and her shoulder-length hair was a rich auburn. Dark red lipstick decorated a pair of lips that seemed to never stop smiling.
Rose greeted the 2 quests warmly. "Welcome to girls' night. I hope everybody brought full tummies and spare undies. There's plenty of food if you need to get things going. Greg won't be back in town 'til the day after tomorrow so we're in no hurry this time. For the clean-up I've got wet wipes galore and the washer is primed and ready."
Next she introduced everyone because 2 of them were new to girls' night. "This is Chantelle, my besty since ancient history," she said as she waved her open hand like a magician's assistant toward the dark-skinned woman. "She's a fashion designer."
Chantelle let out a booming laugh. "That's pretty optimistic. I've got an Etsy."
Next Rose gestured with equal exuberance toward the dark-clothed woman. "This is Iris, another one of the waitresses at the Riverview."
Chantelle greeted Iris with a wide smile. "Rose told me all about you. She didn't say you were a vampire though."
"I only sup on the blood of the chosen," Iris said. She didn't react as strongly to meeting Chantelle as Chantelle did to meeting her. Her face and voice remained stoic and disinterested.
"What's that?" asked Chantelle who was unsure how to respond. "I was...kidding. Are...are you really a vampire?"
"I was kidding also. Maybe."
Chantelle didn't know whether to laugh or to keep a safe distance. She chose polite conversation. "It's just like Rose to make a new friends the minute she starts a new job."
"We've barely seen each other outside of work," Rose qualified, "but we chat a lot on breaks." She laughed. "Except we pretty much only talk about our cats."
"That's false. We often discuss our enemies."
"She means the customers."
"Enemies."
Lastly Rose motioned to the 4th girl in the room. "This is Tamlyn, my little sister. You can call her 'Tammy.' She's an honor student at Sacred Heart but her poop stinks same as ours."
Tammy was green-eyed and fair-skinned like her sister but with a dash of freckles and more of a golden tint to her hair. Her short wiry body bore little resemblance to Rose's however. She was wearing a loose white short-sleeved top, a red plaid skirt, white knee-length socks, black shoes with buckles, and barely a smidgen of makeup.
At the moment Rose introduced her she was eating a chili dog so overloaded with ingredients that onion chunks and shredded cheese were falling on the floor. When she heard the phrase "little sister" she made a muffled sound of protest. She reached a stopping point in her dog-eating and started to talk but choked a little. After more chewing and swallowing and a swig of cola she could finally speak her words of protest. "Don't call me little! I'm 18!"
"If you wanted to be treated like a grown-up you shouldn't have dressed like a schoolgirl," Rose chided.
"I have to! It's my dream! I always wanted to do something naughty in this uniform!"
"You've never done anything naughty in it yet?" asked an apparently incredulous Iris.
Chantelle butted in. "She probably hasn't. I know this girl."
"Well," Tammy began with a mischievous grin, "I did once bring sweets to school and eat them in calculus before the teacher came in. That's against the rules."
"Don't lie. You've never eaten sweets in your life," Rose kidded as she tugged at her skinny sister's shirt to reveal her bony midriff. Tammy swatted at her but Rose kept teasing. "I better have a talk with Mom and Dad. It doesn't look like they're feeding you."
"I exercise!"
"That was funny how you batted her with your hand," Iris commented. "You looked exactly like Oz when he challenges my authority."
"Who's Oz?" Tammy mumbled through a mouthful of cheese puffs.
"I forgot that you don't know my family. There's Oz, a headstrong male blue British longhair who resents my authority yet falls to pieces without the structure I impose, Zenobia, a proud female sorrel Abyssinian with whom I share a mutual respect despite our contrasting philosophies of life, and Rutger, a mercurial male mackerel tabby with the heart of a child."
"So how did you get here?" asked Chantelle after she'd taken all that in. "I don't think Rose would just up and invite you to a doody party."
"Once in the restroom we found out we share a common interest," Rose explained.
"I enjoy a good shit," Iris elaborated in a joyless monotone. "It brings me tremendous pleasure."
"She's not much of a messer but I think she'll like this," Rose said to Chantelle.
"A celebration of defecation. How could I refuse?" said Iris.
"How long have you been doing it?" Tammy asked Rose.
"Since my wedding night," her sister replied.
"Quit it!" snapped an annoyed Tammy. "You know what I mean. How did girls' night become a thing?"
"You can thank Chantelle for that. She made me discover I was into it," Rose explained.
"We discovered it together," Chantelle clarified.
"How?" Iris asked.
"We were pretty young," Rose began. "Maybe even as little as Tammy."
"Hey!" squawked Tammy.
"I was over at her place. Nobody else around. I don't know whose idea it was but we both wanted to poop our pants."
"Let me tell it," Chantelle cut in. "I was a teenager with the house all to myself all day and all night. It might've been the 1st time that ever happened. Of course I invited my best girl over. We wanted to put our freedom to good use we just couldn't think of a way. We weren't into drugs or drinking or sexual experimentation. We were already old enough to watch R-rated movies so that wasn't fun anymore. We didn't have boyfriends. We ended up searching our brains trying to find something naughty we wanted to do while we didn't have any adult supervision."
"We did invite some boys over," Rose reminded her. "Remember?"
"Yeah that lasted about 5 minutes."
"Not true. The awkward silence must've gone on for hours." Both girls laughed.
"The boys were scared of us," Rose summarized.
"That figures. Greg's scared of you now," Tammy joked as she unwrapped a cupcake.
"Not true. Our marriage utilizes a healthy amount of fear."
Chantelle continued. "To make a long story short we wanted to find out what it felt like to make doody in our pants. I think everybody's wondered one time or another. So we gave the junk food a few hours to run through our systems. I kept my booty clenched 'til she had to go too. When we were both ready we bombed our panties and sat down on the wreckage."
"It was fun!" Rose interjected.
"The clean-up wasn't fun but it was worth it. No question. We had to try it again. After 2 or 3 intimate get-togethers our secret got leaked to some girls we knew."
"That's a whole other story," Rose noted. "We can talk about that drama some other time."
"The upshot was Briella heard about what we did and wanted in. The 3 of us try to get together at least once a year to mess up our panties."
"Our guys still don't know what we do on these girls' nights," Rose said with a naughty smile.
"Omar would freak if he knew," Chantelle said. "He's such a neat-freak."
"I don't know how Greg would react," Rose said. "I'd rather not find out. You girls can keep a secret right?"
"Positively," Iris answered.
"Of course," Tammy concurred as she sucked frosting from her fingertips. "You already made me promise."
Rose brought out the trophy she'd had made that said "Queen of Girls' Night." She announced "This prize will go to the biggest party pooper."
"I thought the prize was money," Tammy said disappointedly.
"It wouldn't be fair to the newbies," Rose explained. "The rest of us have a lot of experience loading up undies."
"Who's the usual victor?" asked Iris.
Rose started to answer when she was interrupted by her phone. "I just got a text from Bri," she said after she looked at it. "'Sorry. Can't make it. Got stuck baby-sitting. I'll be thinking of you while I'm changing diapers.'"
"Looks like it's just us 4. And half of us are doing it for the 1st time," Chantelle observed.
"It'll be exciting!" Rose said as she put her phone away.
"I know! I've never gone number 2 in my underpants before!" Tammy exclaimed. "Not unless messy toots count," she added a moment later.
"This will be a new experience for me as well," Iris intoned. "I've shit in some outlandish setting but never inside my clothing."
Chantelle took photos of herself and her gal pals and posted them online with the hashtag "girls' night."
Afterwards Rose said "Phones off. No more photos. Don't leave any evidence of our dirty deeds. And of course no blabbing to anybody. What happens during girls' night is secret!"
The 4 young women sat down in the living room, put on a movie, and snacked a little. Tammy snacked a lot. They watched Disturbed Layer which was suggested by Iris because of a scene where a camper gets pulled into the sink-hole while using a latrine.
After about an hour something shifted inside Chantelle. "Let's do the competition now," she said. "My belly's ready."
"Yeah mine hurts too," Tammy said.
"That's because you keep shoving food down your gullet," Rose said. "You'll probably throw up before you poop."
Tammy didn't rebut. She was hastily finishing off a chili dog so she wouldn't have any food around during the unappetizing activity.
Once a plastic tarpaulin was in place and boxes of wet wipes were set out the living room was ready to become a bathroom. Rose pulled her grape-colored tee-shirt over her head to reveal a full-coverage brassiere of a similar color. Chantelle knew this was coming but it elicited stares from Tammy and Iris.
"You don't expect us to take our clothes off do you?" Tammy asked.
"You can do whatever you want but we usually strip down to our underthings," Rose explained as she unbuttoned her jeans. "It's a tradition."
"The tradition's just her excuse to show off," Chantelle joked as she gestured to Rose's bra. She filled it very well.
Before long 3 of the friends were wearing nothing but their undergarments. Only Tammy stayed fully dressed.
Rose was wearing plum-colored mid-rise briefs that showed the contours of her bottom reasonably well but weren't particularly tight.
Chantelle wore pantyhose and a stick-on bra perfectly matched to her skin tone making her look nude. Her body was soft and curvy but not quite plump. The skirt had hidden her best assets.
Iris' figure was unremarkable but she drew attention with her lovely black lace hip-hugger panties and matching bandeau.
"Oh those are precious!" Chantelle complimented. "Don't fill 'em with doody!"
"If I want to destroy something beautiful no one can stop me," Iris retorted.
"I think you wanted to go first, Chantelle?" Rose asked.
Chantelle struck an elegant pose with her legs at a 60 degree angle and her hands outstretched as if she were riding a surfboard. She kept her feet planted as she bent over, rested her hands on the plastic-coated floor-boards, and thrust her prodigious behind in the air.
Soon something came out of her hole. It was a milk chocolate color in contrast to her dark chocolate skin. It pushed right into the seam of her pantyhose and turned the nylon into a little tent. She briefly strained against the resistance before trying a different approach.
She assumed a position like a frog crouched on a lily-pad. The other girls adjusted their heads to follow the action. After a moment the wad of waste bent over, twisted around, and let the rest come out behind it. For the remainder of the movement Chantelle alternated between the presentation stance and the frog stance grunting softly from time to time.
What came out had a clay-like consistency so it softly slithered and squeezed but retained its segments and bumps as it pressed and scraped against the tight nylon. When she was done her pantyhose were holding a lot more than just her shapely buttocks. The mass was shaped like a sloppy letter S with a large clump where the lower serif would be. When she stood upright half of the formation disappeared into the shadowy valley between her mighty mountains.
"Now it's my favorite part," Chantelle said with a broad smile. She plunked her rump on the floor making a mushy sound. "Mmm!" she moaned with closed eyes as she felt the semisolid mass flatten and spread.
"I'm ecstatic that you actually shit yourself," Iris remarked in her usual monotone.
"You didn't think I would?" Chantelle asked.
"Until the moment of shitting I wasn't certain whether this was a genuine pants-shitting party or an elaborate prank at my expense," Iris explained.
Chantelle didn't say anything but Rose hesitantly replied. "That, um...sorry but that sounds awfully paranoid."
"Yes I am."
"Are you going next?" asked Chantelle who was eager to change the subject.
"Yes I am."
Iris stood still for a few moments. Then she squirmed around and made grunting noises through her nose. Nothing seemed to be happening down below. "I can't do this standing up," she reported.
She moved to a better spot and crouched down. The other girls sat and kneeled to get good perspectives of the imminent mess. Once they were all settled down Iris tried again. Her bowels moved quickly once her body was in the right position. With a single sniffly grunt and few crackling sounds she'd expelled all she was carrying. The sag in the back of her underwear and the pungent smell in the air were the only signs.
"Yeah I'm done," she said as she stood up. That made it easier to tell she'd dropped something out of her colon. There was a dark egg-shaped mass where her skin would have normally shown through the pellucid parts of her ornate underwear. It accentuated the crevice of her modest mounds and extended to the pendulous part of her panties.
Iris put her pointer fingers inside the doily-like waistband and tugged the garment back and a little to the side. A pair of brown lumps like chocolate donut holes fell on the tarp. She exhaled in annoyance then pulled the crotch of her underwear to the side. A 3rd ball of compacted waste fell out.
"Not bad for a 1st try," Rose said.
"I can do much better," Iris said. "My guts don't want to work with me today."
Chantelle appraised the state of Iris' hip-huggers. "They're just a little bit dirty. It'll wash right out."
"I know," Iris said with a hint of disappointment.
Rose volunteered to go next. Her 1st step was bending her torso forward 40 degrees. A slight slithery sound could be heard like the stirring of boiled pasta. Something slowly manifested deep in the furrow between her buttocks. The opaque cotton didn't look dark or wet at first. The progress stopped once the bulge reached a certain size. It looked like Rose had slipped her hand down the front of her underwear and her knuckles were sticking out of the back. Both her hands were on her hips however. For a few moments nothing more happened. Then without warning the bulge rapidly grew. Within seconds it was rivalling her cheeks in size. Thanks to the color of the slightly darkened fabric and the many small lumps of the bulge it looked like a giant mulberry.
"That's all there is," Rose announced after her hump stopped growing.
"Girl that's all there needs to be!" Chantelle exclaimed.
"Nice accident," Tammy complimented.
"That was quite a show," Iris remarked.
After everyone got a good look Rose joined Chantelle on the floor. Her bottom made a splat sound and her leg-holes oozed a little.
"I think we've seen tonight's hottest mess," said Chantelle as she went to fetch the trophy.
"Wait, you guys!" Tammy shouted. "Don't call it now! I haven't gone yet!"
The uniformed young lady took the hem of her skirt in her hands and bunched it up in front of her so everyone would have an unobstructed view of her hindquarters. She wore plain white cotton full-cut briefs like a good schoolgirl.
She closed her eyes and prepared her body. I no time crackling and squishing noises filled the room and the seat of her panties started to bulge outward. The cotton covering her rear end became like a furrowed white mountain with a brown-tinged summit. The hard 1st piece broke off and slid down between her legs like a body plopping on a hammock. Softer material followed. The underwear darkened here and there and changed shape. Soon the thing that had once been a pair of pure white briefs tightly protecting a girl's private parts was like a wet sack of potatoes.
"I feel so much better!" she said once she'd relieved her bowels of much of their heavy load.
"I wish I could say the same," quipped Chantelle who was opening the front door to get some fresh air.
"Your stench is stronger than all of ours combined," Iris observed.
"I'm proud of you, little sis," Rose said.
"Hang on, I'm not done."
Tammy's relief continued. As full as her underwear already was, that was a mere molehill compared to the mountain that was to come. The muddy mass oozed around to Tammy's front as the back was completely filled. The backside ballooned and the leg-holes gushed. It soon looked like a massive amount of chocolate cookie dough had been stuffed into her underwear.
She freed her left hand while the right hand continued to keep her skirt out of harm's way. Rose and Chantelle winced a little in disgust when Tammy took a handful of soiled whites in her hand and mashed and kneaded it around.
"You're right, the smooshing does feel good," she beamed. "It's like sinking into a muddy creek on a hot day."
It finally became too much for the poor panties put up with. They fell to the floor weighed down by the hefty load. A sticky brown mess was caked on Tammy's buns and crotch and inner thighs. The runnier matter left trails streaking down her shanks and ankles and socks. Her shoes also received collateral damage. There was so much waste left stuck to her unmentionable parts that a huge glob fell off and slopped onto the pile inside her thoroughly ruined underwear sending a few small brown beads flying. With an air of finality a loud and wet eruption of gas sent a burst of muck splattering on her legs and anything else close by.
Her friends' eyes were wide. They couldn't hide their astonishment at the sheer volume of waste that had been tucked away inside the petite girl's body. Everyone applauded after Chantelle presented her with the trophy.
"I learned something about my sister today," Rose said after giving Tammy her due congratulations.
"That I'm not all goody-goody? That I've got a naughty side just like you?"
"No I mean your secret to staying slim while constantly stuffing yourself with junk food: Poop out the excess pounds."
Edited October 28, 2017 by Jimmy Olsen
(see edit history) |
Long-time reader, first time writer. Saw a post by Rick about wanting a story written about a commercial, which is a personal favorite of mine, and the more I thought about it the more an idea formed in my head. My writings a little surreal, not Aronofsky surreal, closer to a Monty Python (or at least attempted). Feel free to give me your two cents, and with that I will delay no longer (for both yours and Laura’s sake).
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Laura Gutiérrez was in a rush, driven by a deep and constant pain. Having gotten out of class early (which we will get to soon enough) she decided to have some lunch in a park near downtown. On the way to the park she picked up lunch which consisted of a spicy-buffalo chicken sandwich, topped with a variety of peppers and some “special sauce” (NOT LIKE THAT’ GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER). She took her lunch and some important papers into the park and began to waste away her lunch hour.
Laura was going to school to become a Financial Analyst, but had left her afternoon classes to go to a job interview. In her final year she was looking around to begin her life in the dog eat dog world of business and just wanted to get her foot in the door. The business firm she was heading to has an opening for secretary but this was just the beginning, Just like the beginning of the pain occurring in her mouth. She was used to most spicy tastes but something about this sandwich was causing her almost excessive pain. She grabbed what was left of her lunch, resume and other important papers and began looking for something to stop this burning sensation (come on mates).
Her salvation came in the form of a water fountain, a little low to the ground if you ask me. Laura bent over and begin drinking from the fountain. Drinking isn’t really the right word, closer to inhaling. She stood there drinking for close to a minute when she noticed a man behind her, taking a good long look at the scenery. Wiping the drops of water from her mouth she stood up and made her way towards her SUV, lunch was nearly over and it was best to arrive early to her interview. Still feeling some heat she decided to pick up some water at a local convenience store, in hopes of quenching this pain. There was a sale on a 6 pack 750 mL bottles, and she took advantage of this savvy deal.
Now I’m sure you would like to hear the rest of the story from her point of view, instead of this voyeuristic all-knowing author. So I will leave you with one important piece of information… She is a beautiful 5’9, with beautiful d+ breasts set snuggly under a white tank top, skin the colour of mocha (livin la vida loca), with an ass as firm as a ripe cantaloupe stuffed into a extremely slim pair of Levy jeans. Oh you saw the video and get that part, and even then looks aren’t everything. Well aren’t you progressive. What you probably didn’t know was that the “special sauce” contained a variety of ingredients: ginger, horse radish, vinegar, other (yes other is weak writing but it adds to the mystery(OOO SPOOKY)). These ingredients ensure that your kidneys become more efficient than a Japanese tram station and send more water into your bladder then Niagara Falls sends off a cliff on a good day. But as we all know it all starts with…
A drop of water rolled down my chin, slightly warm, but that’s what I get for leaving it for last. AWWWW, do I feel bloated but I think my mouth it finally cooled. Sitting in this traffic I will throw this bottle along with the other 5 in the back seat, ah what a deal.
“The accident is just about to be cleared off on the I69, so it is expected traffic will return to normal in the next 10 minutes. Till then an utter stand still, someone who would power through any barrier was Nina Simone. Up next on of her most popular songs, the 10 minute stunner that is “Sinnerman”.
Another ten minutes? I still have a solid half an hour till my interview, it could be worse I could have to…
Oh no.
I had thought the bloated feeling was drinking over 2 litres of water in under 20 minutes but there’s a pain. A pain in my crotch, a pain associated with needing to pee. And like that there was no build up. I. HAD. TOO. PEE. Instantly I began shaking and moving intent on keeping in the oil tanker of piss that is my bladder. 5 minutes later it felt like all those 2 litres were already in her bladder and there was LITTLE room to spare. Desperate I decided to get out of my SUV, maybe I have a chance to find a nearby bush or porta-loo. I jumped out and from the sheer momentum of liquid in my bladder it felt like someone had kicked me straight in the sphincter.
“Hooooo, geeezzzzz.”
I took a moment to gather my strength, and I could hear two girls in the car ahead of me laughing. I began walking upwards on the ramp, using every ounce of strength to not shove one (or both) of my hands towards my crotch, to relive the massive load of hot pain dying to gush out. I took a moment to look up, to my horror, to see cops waving vehicles forward. I had no choice but to hop back in my SUV and resume driving. At least regaining control was easier sitting down, the seats were too soft and were nowhere close to a toilet seat.
As I drove by I saw what had held up traffic, and it was official, my panties were no longer dry. A car had crashed into a large tanker, lucky with no major damage. As I was driving by I could see that there were cracks in the tankers haul and a yellow liquid was still spraying out. It felt like it was just a few drops in my panties, and a helpful hand helped to prove the case.
There was a good discomfort in my stomach and I would have given nearly anything for a size larger pants, or some nice and stretchy sweat pants, or a dress that could flow effortlessly in the wind, AND NO PANTIES. GOD YES, getting rid of that slight compression would feel like lifting litres of water off my bladder. Just nothing down there and have my bare vagina against the seat. It could take a few squirts. Maybe I could drop my pants and give it a few squirts. Think of the relief. WAIT NO. That was a few more drops. AHHHHHHHHHH.
Just breathe.
In.
Out
In.
Out.
Imagine a dry desert. Sand for miles. Nothing hear but sand. There will be nothing but sand. There was only ever dry sand. But maybe it was once a raging ocean. AHHHHHH.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
A tranquil plane. Nothing hear but grass, and a cool breeze. Warm and there is nothing but you the sun and the plane. Well that and the rain cloud gushing effortlessly in the distance. AHHHHHHH.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
There is nothing. I am nothing. It is true peace and serenity.
HISSSSS
AHHHHHHHHHH.
It’s official. My panties can’t hold anymore. Jeans feel clean, but it feels like my crotch is submerged in a kitty pool, my bladder feels like its holding a kitty pool, and there are no more waves of pain. Just a constant sting. Just calm down, your drive is over. Just jump out and walk through the Plaza to the John Ferraro Building. Just keep going to the home of your interview and SWEET relief. Hoping out has taken another toll on my bladder and I fear what weakening my Kegel muscles for a moment could do. If it’s a day of making things official, I might just be a notary. THERE. IS. NO. ROOM. IN. MY. BLADDER.
The plaza before John Ferraro Building was pretty small but there was one thing that concerned me, the large pond with water features in the middle. I swear to god, when I own this place I will turn this into a sand pit.
WHOOOOSHHHHH. As if to spite me there is a large water jet that erupts in the middle of the pond. Then another jet erupts in my nether regions as I lose a good 2 second into my panties. I begin to pick up my pace, I can’t tell if there is a wet spot but if I don’t hurry there will be a HUGE one. Just hold it. Come on, the building is ther… WHOA.
“Sorry”
I blurt it out but I don’t even know if she heard me. Or that dog. Oh to be a dog. No tight pants. No wet panties. Just me, middle of the street, absolutely naked, and the largest most powerful gusher you can imagine, followed with un-godly relief. A look of ecstasy and a release on an exhausted sphincter almost followed, but I quickly snapped out of it with just a 1 second jet into my pants. I also have to painfully slow my pace as a passerby is paying a little too much attention to me. Ohhh, this is getting me nowhere, I don’t even care if he thinks somethings wrong. I HAVE TO ENTER THAT BUILDING.
I break through the door and almost freeze. A stronger sting racks my stomach but I was able to Kegel better than before and only a mere drop escaped. But millions of its buddies were right behind him, and were not hesitating to cause me some pain. Before the security guard has a moment to say anything, I speed off into the direction of a hallway with a handsome man standing in it. It’s a pretty short hallway and the guy is ju…
I just entered an elevator.
Before I make the scene any more awkward I hit one of the buttons, and begin checking this guy out. He is pretty handsome and dressed quite nicely. I wonder why he is here. He could be a financial manager or head of I.T. or an important client, I don’t want to look like a fool. So I fix my hair and do my best to grin and bare it. I got a quick feel of my pants as I squeezed a little earlier and unfortunately there was some dampness. Not unexpected but hopefully in these dark Levy’s not much will show up.
Some of my work had paid off, and it wasn’t anything regarding my lower abdomen. This guy was clearly checking me out and liked what he saw, that gave me a helpful boost too everywhere but my sphincter as a powerful 3 second jet erupted into my pants and made quite an audible hissing sound. And you are correct it made a little puddle on the floor. I couldn’t keep this up and my legs locked up instantly and my hands were there a moment before hand. The door opened and I instantly left, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself here. I NEED SOMETHING. I would say a garbage can but at this rate it would have to be industrial sized.
There were no signs anywhere, and while it was great to have a moment to compose myself, I needed to know where those toilets were last week. There was a spiral staircase in front of me, and something inside told me to go down. Maybe it is my body saying “Go down urine, escape”. I’m not going to let it happen but it appears my body was giving me no choice, I am completely numb down there, but it seems that a steady drip is leaking out. Maybe someone has a sphincter that can hold back Noah’s flood, THAT SPHICTER ISN’T MINE.
Drip.
At the bottom of the stairs I see a sign. SALVATION. SHIT. The bathrooms are on this floor, but basically on the other side of the building.
Drip.
There little of anything I can do to hold anymore, so with hands clasped and putting inhuman amounts of pressure on my vagina I sprint off.
Drip.
Halfway through the hallway. Lots of industrial and maintenance things. Maybe there is somewhere I can duck in and cause hundreds of dollars of water damage? Something in me is saying just keeping going. Maintain current course.
Drip.
I reach the end of the hall and FINALLY SOME GOOD LUCK. For about 0.3 seconds. The door is locked and closed for cleaning.
Squirt.
I almost begin a boxing match with the door, in hopes it will fall down and allow me sweet relief. It’s tough to say, but it almost looks like there is a pattern the shape of my panties, etched in piss on my jeans.
Squirt.
With my strength failing in both fights against the door and my bladder I notice further down the hall, the gentlemen in the elevator was there. I stop my fight with the door and door my best to strike a pose.
HISS.
BIG MISTAKE. I wouldn’t be surprised if he saw that leak out of my pants. Who am I kidding, there’s nothing slowing those urine jets down and would shoot right out. He looked like he was playing with his pants and proceeded to enter a room further down. THE MENS IS STILL OPEN.
HISS.
I hurray towards the Men’s. The bikini panties on my jeans are quickly turning into boxer shorts.
Hiss.
I reach the door.
Drip
I force the door open.
Squirt.
Standing there was a man shocked at the sink, while the guy I followed in was at the urinal.
Hiss.
I caught a glance of his penis and gushing out of it…
Boom.
Like that there was no stopping the flood. All the pain that had coursed through my lower body to such an extent to go numb, was gone. Replaced by a pain in my pee hole as what felt like gallons of urine raced to see who could leave first. All hopes at not humiliating myself in this place, the place I hoped to start my financial future, gone. I wish I could have thought of a better way to describe what I thought, but all parts of my mind were in ecstasy over the relief. An absolute deluge was released into my pants, and not a inch of those jeans were spared the hot load of my mammoth bladders wrath. It kept going and going. Boxer’s to shorts. It kept going. Shorts to capris. It kept going. Capris to jeans. It just wouldn’t stop. The puddle on the floor was small at first, the size of a spilled glass of water. But it too would continue to grow. The size of a plate. The size of a coffee tables surface. Size of a Dining tables surface. The ground was now covered more with my pee then with porcelain tile. That tile went from a clean white to a shade of bright yellow, and I was afraid it would never change colours. It would remain a permanent reminder of the sheer force of an unrelenting bladder, and human sphincter unable to keep an inhuman load at bay. As I wet myself the man at the urinal stopped peeing, and began to look at me. It was an odd look I couldn’t quite place. (Unbeknownst to her it wasn’t because he had emptied his bladder or was shocked, it was due to the site she caused that a strong and powerful erections had ceased all flow. Sorry for interrupting during the “Golden” moment, I will return you to Laura)
As my bladder deflated to a normal size all I began to think about was what was going to happen. The man at the sink looked like he might throw up, or scream. Maybe both. And the well-dressed man, he had to be the C.E.O. of This building, this company, this world. He would tell everyone, I would look like a child, no one wants their finances managed by a child. No matter what I did or what I would do all people would see is a child in wet pants. I could feel my whole body heat up and almost become off balance. I hope to god I’m not turning red, which would be the perfect cherry to top this off. Pants the colour yellow and a sad little girl red due to embarrassment. Despite all of this I remained stoic, almost shocked at what happened. Not a tear left my eye or a sound from my mouth, left agape from what happened.
So many more thoughts flooded my mind, like urine in my pants, during what felt like hours of relief. So many thoughts I could barely place the deep down feeling I felt. A feeling I almost couldn’t describe. A feeling of joy and happiness, of warmth and safety. A feeling of strength and independences, of fighting a thousand battle and winning them all. A felling that started at a clitoral level. I was so enamoured in the thoughts and feelings I could barely hear what the gentleman was about to say.
“Wait you’re Laura? Laura Gutiérrez aren’t you?” The gentlemen asked.
I nod.
He replied with “Well I don’t know what they teach these kids anymore but there are better ways to make a lasting impression”
I immediately perk up and responded to him, doing my best to add a level of confidence:
“A woman has to mark her territory to standout in man’s world. There are few places more sacred to a man then their lavatories. ”
“If you keep that up, quite a lot may be your territory. Names Rick, and I believe I will be your boss.”
Now as I return, you may wonder how Laura was able to recover from such humiliation. Well if you read it was quite easily. But there are always people to please, meetings to attend, and breaks to skip (for oh so many people). But it seems kind of rude to harp on Laura, she has bigger and better things to get on too (NOT REMOTLY WHAT I MEAN), so let’s let her… Go Forth. |
I'd like to get a chapter-ed story out next (not this one), but that means finding enough weekends in a row to write it :) For now, I have this little scene to share. Happy [almost] Halloween!
***
“Alright, darlings,” Willa Morgan called to the two teenagers. “We’re off to dinner. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, or you can order a pizza if you’re willing to wait. We should be back before 10.”
“Sure, Mom,” 18-year-old Finley responded with a smile, swinging her unrealistically shiny curtain of hair over her shoulders.
Hank looked up from his sketchpad. “Could I please play games while you’re gone?”
“Sure, sweetie,” Willa replied. “Thanks for asking. I’m sure you can figure out how to get the system working.”
Hank thanked Willa and headed back to the den. The cabin was small compared to the Morgan’s massive estate in the city, but it still seemed luxurious to Hank. He liked playing video games – the focus and lack of any real-world implications was relaxing – but he knew that Willa and Geoff preferred to limit video games during “family time.”
Back in the kitchen, Willa and Geoff kissed their daughter goodbye and headed out. The cabin was fairly remote, and the closet acceptable restaurant for date night was a half-hour drive away, but they didn’t have any hesitation with leaving the two teens alone at the cabin.
Well, barely any hesitation. When Willa had proposed going out the night before, Geoff had questioned whether or not they should stay with Hank. After all, the 15-year-old had only lived with them for a month, and this was the first trip to the cabin they’d taken as a family.
The trip had been Geoff’s idea. He’d wanted to give them all a chance to bond and relax before the new school year started. He thought the quiet and relative simplicity of a week out in the country would be helpful for Hank’s transition.
To be honest, the Morgans didn’t know a whole lot about Hank’s life before he’d come to live with them. Even the social worker didn’t seem to know. They knew he was originally from a few states over and that he’d been bounced around among various family members, but none of his living situations were what could reasonably be called “healthy.” Willa and Geoff had heard about drugs, alcohol, and neglect, though, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, there had never been any physical or sexual abuse. Through a series of lucky connections and one very concerned teacher, Hank had been placed in the foster care system and ended up moving a few hundred miles away.
Willa and Geoff had been looking into fostering for several years. They’d only had one child and wanted to be able to share their considerable wealth, but they knew bringing a disadvantaged child into a completely new environment wasn’t a simple procedure. Willa and Geoff both worked, so they knew they were not equipped to take in a child with substantial supervision or personal care needs.
Luckily, and more than a little surprisingly, Hank seemed to be remarkably well-adjusted. He was mature and whip-smart, the kind of smart that seemed out-of-place coming from a kid with dingy, tattered clothes and raggedy hair. The Morgans had provided a haircut and updated wardrobe, and Hank had responded with nothing but politeness and good behavior. He smiled easily and responded readily in family conversations. Willa and Geoff counted themselves very lucky.
Now, out at the old but well-kept family cabin, Hank was settled in the den in the back, while Finley remained in the kitchen, engrossed with her phone. Finley wasn’t unkind, but she had the kind of embedded self-centeredness that came with being the beautiful only child of rich parents, despite Willa and Geoff’s attempts to keep from spoiling her. She didn’t enjoy the cabin as much as she used to, and now, a half hour after he parents left, she was bored. Her parents had explicitly told her to stay with Hank, right? He was 15. He’d be fine if she ran out to meet up with some friends.
Finley had already made her decision before she knocked gently on the slightly-ajar door to the den.
Hank’s eyes flickered over to his glamourous foster sister before refocusing on the campaign. “Hey, Fin,” he greeted her.
Finley smiled. She really did like the quiet new addition to their family. She knew some of her friends’ younger brothers, so she was well aware that 15-year-old boys were not, as a group, all polite and unobtrusive.
“Hey, kid,” she replied. “I’m gonna run out and meet some friends for dinner. I won’t be gone long. Is that OK?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Hank mumbled, his eyes locked on the screen. He knew that Finley was asking him something, but she didn’t seem to be asking him to do anything, so he didn’t put too much thought into assenting. He and Finley didn’t talk much, so he didn’t feel badly about keeping his attention on his game.
Likewise, Finley wasn’t really concerned with Hank’s inattentive response. She’d done her job – alerted the young man that she’d be gone – and she’d be back well before her parents, anyway. She grinned at Hank before walking out, shutting the door behind her.
Hank didn’t really hear the door shut. He definitely didn’t hear the rattle of the old, loose lock clicking into place. The cabin was several decades old, and the den in the back of the house had been the last on the list for updates. The knob was loose and creaky, and if the door was shut even a little bit too hard, the lock would fall into place, effectively trapping anyone who happened to be in the den.
But Hank didn’t know that. He barely even registered that Finley was gone. All he knew is that he was nearly finished with the current mission. He adjusted his position on the floor. He realized he had to pee, as he usually did around this time of night, and he was getting hungry. He decided he’d finish the mission, save, and then get up to go to the bathroom and get something for dinner.
Hank squirmed a bit as he finished the mission, pressing his knees together. He saved his progress and turned off the TV, stretching a bit as he rose from the floor. For the first time, he noticed how quiet it seemed. The cabin didn’t have any of the typical traffic and human sounds as the city, anyway, but without the noise from his game, the silence of the house seemed palpable. Hank’s brow furrowed as he reached for the door.
But the knob wouldn’t turn.
Hank frowned, stepping in closer. He gripped the doorknob harder, but it wouldn’t budge. He jiggled the knob, and it rattled in his hand, but still wouldn’t turn.
Hank felt himself starting to sweat. “Fin?” he called. No answer. He tried again, louder. “Fin? Can you help me?”
Silence.
Hank dropped his hand from the door. He tried to convince himself that there was a logical explanation for the silence…and the locked door…and the apparently empty house…
It’s fine he told himself. Willa and Geoff are at dinner. Fin probably just has her headphones in or something.
He stepped back from the door, unsure of how to proceed. He had to pee, and he was pretty hungry, but he could wait awhile. He slumped back on the floor and turned on the TV. After another half hour, he turned it off again, listening for any sounds of movement outside the den.
The quiet of the cabin was making him nervous, and he could hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. He stood and looked out the window; he could see dark storm clouds rolling in, obscuring the evening summer sun.
Hank’s face fell. The storm looked bad. It’s not that he was afraid of storms, but he could tell it was going to be loud and nasty, and he really wasn’t sure if the den was the safest place to be in the cabin. The Morgans had given him a cell phone, but he still wasn’t used to keeping it on his person at all times, so it was somewhere on the other side of the locked door.
He walked back over to the door. He tried the doorknob again, already knowing the futility of the attempt.
“Finley?” he yelled. No answer. “Willa? Geoff?”
Silence.
Hank felt his stomach drop. The nerves were accompanied by a surge in his bladder that necessitated a squeeze of his thighs.
“Finley?” he repeated, but much quieter. He stepped backward into the den, fighting despondency. No one was coming. No one was home.
Hank blinked rapidly. The rain started outside, and he slid down onto the couch.
It’s fine, he thought. I can handle this.
He felt a familiar emptiness in his chest as he sat in the empty room. He was alone. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been left alone – dropped off at some new house, not picked up after school, or, just like now, flat-out being left behind in a house by himself.
Hank breathed deeply as the minutes passed. Some small, logical part of his brain tried to say that there was a rational explanation, that the Morgans really wouldn’t take him out to a cabin just to abandon him. But Hank had been left behind far too many times to allow that part any purchase. He was 15, he was alone, he was trapped, there was a big storm approaching, he was hungry, and he really had to pee.
Inhaling sharply, Hank pressed his hand between his legs. He’d already had to go, and the increase in anxiety only served to make his need all the more intense.
The storm intensified outside. Hank could hear the rain lashing against the block glass windows high on the wall. Hank knew he should calm down, but he hadn’t been able to release his grip on his dick. He felt overwhelmed, almost lightheaded. He looked around the room for anywhere he could relieve himself without making a mess, but there were no waste bins or even empty water bottles.
A hot leak sprung against Hank’s hand, and he doubled over. He couldn’t remember ever having to pee so badly, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.
Slowly, Hank rose to his feet and made his way over to the far wall, off of the area rug. The old hardwood floors were a bit warped with age, but he figured hard floors would be easier to clean than the couch or the rug. If he ever got out of here, that is.
Hank peed a little more as he moved, and his breath caught in his throat. Without looking, he knew there would be a visible stain on his shorts. It should have been the least of his concerns, what with being abandoned and locked in a room and all, but the immediacy of excretory desperation had a way of overtaking all other thoughts.
Sliding down against the wall, Hank wet even more. He was vibrating with fear and the physical effort of holding, and he hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the fact that he was about to have an accident in his pants.
A bolt of lightning lit the den, accompanied by a deafening clap of thunder. Hank gasped and jerked, finally losing his last shred of control.
Urine began to flow through his shorts, rapidly expanding the existing stain between his legs. Hank shuddered with failure and fear, repressed sobs shaking his body. His stream of piss surged and waned with each heave of his torso, cruelly mimicking his silent, uneven cries.
But still no tears fell from his eyes. He was scared and alone, but he wouldn’t cry. He’d been here before. Well, not having an accident – not for many years, anyway – but alone in a house with no one to help or take care of him.
Hank kept wetting, soaking through every inch of the fabric of his underwear and shorts. A warm puddle grew from his butt out past his shoes, pooling oddly on the old, warped floorboards.
Another crash of thunder seemed to shake the cabin. Hank was still wetting himself, pee trickling in multiple streams through his drenched underwear and onto the floor. He leaned against the wall, unable to support himself, even in a sitting position. His stream finally tapered off, leaving him with saturated shorts sticking to his thighs and a long puddle underneath him that rippled with each tremor of his body.
Hank stared past his knees, his gaze unfocused. The storm drifted past the cabin, and the sound of thunder gradually diminished, but Hank still couldn’t bring himself to move. He was exhausted from worry and trying to hold it, and he didn’t want to think of what he’d have to do now that the Morgans had abandoned him. His shorts cooled and chafed against his legs, and his thoughts swam with ineffectual attempts to convince himself that it was all no big deal. It was just another family that didn’t want him.
He didn’t know how long he sat there. The sounds of the storm faded, but sunlight didn’t return, indicating that it was at least after 9.
Just as Hank was about to doze off, he heard voices. He blinked rapidly, heart in his throat.
“…here, honey?” Willa’s voice sounded mildly concerned as she came down the hallway toward the den.
“Willa!” Hank’s voice caught as he called for his foster mother, delirious with confusion and relief. “Willa!”
“Hank?” Willa was definitely concerned now. She reached for the den door, and, seeing it shut, guessed what must have happened. With Geoff at her side, she twisted the old lock just so, and the door sprung open.
Hank gasped at the sight of his foster parents. He felt like the ever-tightening band of fear wrapped around his chest had snapped, and he choked with relief. He scrambled to his feet, clumsy and gangly, as Willa and Geoff hurried across the room.
Willa wrapped her arms around the distraught teen, and Geoff embraced them both. Before she could open her mouth to ask what had happened, Hank let out a keening sob.
“You left me!!” he wailed, the words straining against his throat. “Y-you le-ahhhhhh!” Words failed him, and he sagged against the embrace of the Morgans.
Willa and Geoff shared a horrified look. In just seconds, they’d figured out that Finley was gone, and Hank had somehow gotten locked in the den. Neither of them had expected the sheer betrayal and anxiety on the teen’s face, though. Willa opened her mouth to correct him, but Geoff spoke first.
“We’re so sorry, Hank,” he said gently. “We shouldn’t have left you for so long. We’re here now. It’s OK, I promise.”
Hank continued to weep, his face buried against Willa’s shoulder. It had been so long since someone had actually come back for him, since someone leaving didn’t mean them leaving for good. He’d spent the past two hours trying to convince himself that he didn’t care about the Morgans, and especially didn’t care that they didn’t care about him, but seeing Willa and Geoff burst into the den had shattered that delusion. He did care about them, and he desperately didn’t want them to leave him behind. Seeing them left him breathless with relief, a feeling only demonstrable through his current breakdown.
Willa and Geoff shared a look over the crying teen’s head and came to the mutual decision that they’d get the full story later. The only important matter at the moment was comforting Hank.
“Mom?” Finley’s voice echoed down the hallway. She’d heard Hank’s cries as soon as she walked in the front door and had hurried to the den.
Willa raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who paled seeing the emotional tableau in the middle of the room.
“Hank…” Finley stammered. “Mom, I…” She took a step forward and sighed.
“Hank, I’m so sorry,” Finley apologized, genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t mean to be gone for that long, I swear.” Geoff and Willa both started at the girl, silently demanding an explanation.
“I ran out with friends to get dinner,” Finley continued. “I told Hank I was leaving, but,” she continued quickly, seeing her parents stiffen at any implication that Hank was at fault, “he was playing his game, I don’t think he heard me. I wasn’t going to be out long, but then the storm came, and there was a tree across the road, a bunch of trees down, and it took me forever to get back!”
Willa sighed, stroking Hank’s hair as the teen cried. She knew her daughter didn’t mean any harm, and they’d been meaning to fix the door to the den for ages. It was an unfortunate series of circumstances, but not really anyone’s fault.
“I’m so sorry, Hank,” Finley repeated. Seeing someone so close to her own age sobbing and obviously having had an accident was unnerving, and she felt terrible for putting him in that position.
Hank whimpered, but didn’t look up. He was grateful for Fin’s apology, but she was still a beautiful girl, and he didn’t want to make eye contact with a beautiful girl while soaked in his own pee. Besides, he was still shaky and uneasy, and he wanted to stay in Willa’s arms a bit longer.
“Fin, honey, why don’t you go make Hank a snack?” Geoff suggested, knowing that neither Hank nor Finley would benefit from her continued presence in the room. Finley nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave but still be useful.
Willa kept combing her fingers through Hank’s hair, murmuring assurances, while Geoff kept his arms around both of them. Hank’s sobs dwindled into whimpers, until finally, the tears stopped, like the storm passing away from the cabin and into the distance.
“Hank, honey?” Willa murmured when the boy quieted. “Do you want to go get changed?”
Hank’s stomach lurched. He’d known, obviously, that there was no way Willa and Geoff could have missed the evidence of his accident, but this first vocal acknowledgement that he’d wet himself was still jarring.
He straightened, eyes shining. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked, voice raw and small. “I…I couldn’t get to the bathroom.”
“It’s fine, Hank,” Geoff reassured him. “It’s not your fault.”
“I didn’t hear Fin say she was leaving,” Hank rambled. “Or I wasn’t paying attention, and I didn’t have my phone, and the door was locked, and no one was here, and-“
“Hank, it’s OK,” Geoff hugged the boy tightly. “It’s all going to be OK.”
Hank trembled. He believed Geoff – believed all of them, all of their apologies and reassurances – but he was so tired. He’d spent so long doing everything he could to be unemotional, to take care of himself and not be any burden to whoever he happened to be living with at the time. The events of the past few hours – the storm, the fear, the accident, and the reunion – had dragged him through a maelstrom of emotions that he couldn’t handle, even with his years of practice.
“Go get cleaned up, sweetheart,” Willa encouraged softly.
Nodding morosely, Hank shuffled out of the den. His shorts were no longer dripping, but they were heavy and uncomfortable between his legs. He was exhausted and shaky, and he didn’t know what to expect now.
He collected his pajamas from his room and trudged to the bathroom. Peeling off his soiled clothes, Hank couldn’t put together a coherent thought. He almost felt like he was in a dream, where events were disconnected and time moved strangely.
Back in his room, Hank was unsure of what to do with his wet clothes. He had a hamper, but he knew better than to put such soiled things in a closed container.
“I’ll take those, sweetie.”
Hank looked up to see Willa and Geoff standing in the doorway. Willa held out her hand, and Hank cringed as he passed over his pissed-in shorts and underwear. Willa quickly took the clothes to the laundry room before returning.
“Hank, we’re so sorry,” Geoff started. He and Willa stood just inside the doorway and to the left, not wanting to intrude on Hank’s space. Hank stood against his bed, fidgeting awkwardly.
“Hank,” Willa asked. “Honey, did you think we’d left you for good?”
Hank blinked, ashamed of the tears that had gathered in his eyes. After a moment, he shrugged.
“That’s what happens to me,” he whispered.
Willa let out a soft, sad sigh. Geoff stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on the teen’s shoulder.
“Not here, Hank,” Geoff promised. “We knew what we were doing when we asked you to come live with us. We’re not going to leave you.”
Hank ducked his head. He felt so stupid. “I-“ he stammered. “I don’t think you’re bad people,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just…” He looked up, pleading. “No one was here,” he went on. “I was scared and I couldn’t help thinking that you weren’t coming back.”
Dropping his eyes again, Hank’s voice lowered. “Everyone else didn’t come back.”
Willa stepped forward, and she and Geoff wrapped the boy in a tight hug. “Of course, sweetheart,” she soothed. “Of course we understand that you would think that, and we’re sorry that you did. We’re all going to try to be a lot better about making sure you never have cause to think that again.”
Hank nodded, too overcome to speak. He was comforted, but still tired from the terrible events of the evening.
Geoff rubbed Hank’s back, recognizing the boy’s exhaustion. “Do you want something to eat, bud?”
Still quiet, Hank shook his head, suppressing a yawn.
“OK, honey,” Willa said, kissing his forehead. “We’ll let you get some sleep. Let us know if you need anything.”
She and Geoff hugged Hank one last time, then turned to go.
“Can-“ The adults turned around at the sound of Hank’s soft, stammering plea.
“Can you leave the door open, please?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Willa promised. She gave her foster son one last smile before leaving him to sleep. |
Author's note: How did it end up this long? I remember being at the 2000 word count and wondering how I could keep it going...and that was yesterday! But that's the fun part of writing stories about games, throwing in references to other games.
---------------
By the accounts of any fan of high fantasy, the world of Aincrad was beautiful. Lots of green plant life in the grass and trees, large open fields, magic, swords, monsters, and dungeons. And it looked lifelike, an amazing feat for a VR MMO on home computers. That would be a fantastic selling point, players could get lost in the virtual world, if that wasn't literally what was happening. Sword Art Online, on the day of its full launch, had become a death game. All 10,000 players were trapped in the digital mindscape, with the only escape being one player clearing the hundredth floor. And if you die in the game, you die in real life.
One would ordinarily assume clearing the game would not take long, video sites always had full playthroughs up of any game mere days after release, but SAO was proving different. Almost two years after Day Zero, as it had come to be known, the farthest any advance team had gotten was a floor in the 70's range. By this point, a majority of the surviving players had given up on ever escaping, and had begun treating the game world as their ordinary life.
With that said, there were still those fighting to go the distance, beat the boss, and advance. The guilds were the shining example of force in Aincrad, with the top among them the Knights of the Blood Oath. The red-and-white-clad warriors were often seen on the front lines, cutting through the toughest enemies and scoring the sweetest loot drops. Most figured, if anyone would clear the game, it would be one of the Knights. And one of the top guesses was the order's second-in-command, the one known as Flash, Asuna.
However, Asuna wasn't on the front lines today. It wasn't a constant push, there were breaks between the organized strikes, when the officers could go out on their own, so long as they were ready to return on a moment's notice. Taking advantage of her “day off”, the brunette swordswoman was going out on a lucrative sidequest.
She wasn't going it alone, though, she had a partner to help her against the tough enemies. Not another guild member, but a solo player she had grown quite fond of, the Black Swordsman, Kirito. His aloof nature had initially caused friction, but as two of SAO's strongest players, they found themselves in each other's company frequently. It didn't take long past that for the two to find common ground, begin respecting each other, and now they were friends.
That wasn't stopping Kirito from expressing displeasure with the excursion, before they had even officially started. “So what's the lame quest you needed my help on?”
The two had only just arrived in a forest on floor 48 to properly begin the quest, and that being Kirito's first sentence rubbed Asuna the wrong way. “You know, if I'm such a burden, you don't have to agree to tag along. I just figured you'd want a chance to get some extra XP, help me get a one-of-a-kind legendary pot.”
Upon hearing the prize, Kirito stopped his complaining, and started snickering instead. “Getting started on the 4/20 celebration a little early, aren't we? Gotta get that dank weed before anyone else!” Asuna sighed as he laughed at his own horrible humor, a laugh that went on too long until he finally caught his breath and realized he was the only one that found it funny. “This is why I don't usually tell jokes. Sorry, keep going.”
While a part of her should have been annoyed he went for the dumb, low-hanging gag, she recognized that she should have expected that. Kirito was practically raised by the internet, after all, might as well just let it slide. “The quest card says this pot can add special, temporary in-game perks to food when mixed with certain extra ingredients. Things like improved attack power, faster movement speed, good stuff like that. You're the only person that eats my cooking, so you're the only other player that stands to benefit.”
“Don't worry, I'll help,” Kirito confirmed. “But do you have any leads on location? Forests are kind of big and non-distinct, we could waste the entire day wandering, to say nothing about getting lost and going in circles. The map here sucks,” he offered, pulling up the map in front of him to show its total lack of details and landmarks.
“Then we'll just have to get lucky, and be careful not to retrace our steps. We've got the time. I packed lunch, speaking of food. Plenty of drinks too, so we're set for as long as we want to be out.”
“You really come better prepared for these things, Asuna. I just keep emergency rations, they work but they taste like crap. I'm lucky to have you making me food.” Kirito closed his eyes in a wide smile, which meant he didn't see Asuna blush at the compliment. It was an odd thing to be embarrassed by, considering how far she almost went with him one night on a misunderstanding, but things were kind of weird between them, personal praises like that felt important.
Shaking her head, Asuna cleared her throat to retain control of the moment. “A-anyways, we're wasting time! We need to get searching!” With the thumbs up from Kirito, the two wandered off in direction unknown, hoping they'd succeed and secure the prize.
---------------
Only now, hours later, did Asuna realize she had made a mistake. Not with equipment, or supplies, or navigation, she was actually well-prepared for the mission she undertook. The issue popping up was a matter of timing. While she had recognized that this could be an all-day affair, she didn't think that through, all the implications it brought. The inevitability never crossed her mind as she enjoyed beverages with lunch. As such, she was now dealing with one of SAO's more controversial mechanics: the bladder meter.
While not a “realistic” game, SAO did still require its players to keep tabs on their body for more than just health. They needed to sleep, they needed to eat, and most relevant now, they needed to drink and later expel those fluids, like some kind of simulation game. Some players didn't mind the system, others were vocally opposed until they were forced to accept it. Asuna was more in the latter camp, with an added dash of “Akihiko Kayaba is a pervert for programming this”. She swore to give him a good punch should they ever meet.
However, that anger was back when the game started. Now, she had grown so accustomed to this medieval world that the pleasures of indoor plumbing had mostly been forgotten, where the best toilets you'd find were slightly clean chamber pots, and the wilderness more often than not took that role. Put simply, Asuna was so desensitized to peeing behind some plants when the need arose that it hardly even registered as something she should be embarrassed about.
Around most people, that is. With people she barely knew, it wasn't much of a hurdle to say she needed a minute to herself. Problem was, Kirito was not someone she barely knew. He was very close to her, so if she admitted a need to whiz, she'd be around the guy she confessed it to for the rest of the day and many more to come. It was a normal human, or rather simulated human, concern, but that didn't make it an okay thing to just throw out there. Very few of her actions could be considered more private.
For now, she'd just keep the matter to herself, it shouldn't be too hard. The bladder system of SAO was a lot more rigid than the real world, exactly the sort of thing one would expect from the programming on a throwaway mechanic. Asuna's meter currently read 80% on an orange bar, a fullness that would prompt serious desperation outside the game, but here only resulted in mild discomfort, a warning without pain, much like every other virtual injury. Besides, other players had reported (and she could confirm) that there was no such thing as leakage, clothes stayed completely dry until the total accident at 100%. It worked slower here too, a lot like the disconnect between day cycles and timers in other games, hours could pass without meaningful change. It was easy to be optimistic.
“I just realized, we're on the 48th floor,” Kirito broke the silence to observe. “We should have stopped in to say hi to Lisbeth.”
“That's only just occurring to you now,” Asuna asked, incredulously. “Well, better late than never, I suppose.”
“Hey, I'm not the kind of guy who forgets a woman as soon as she's out of sight!” Not even five seconds later, he snapped his fingers as his face lit up in realization. “That reminds me, I haven't heard from Silica in a while.”
“Probably should have expected that kind of social incompetence from a guy who plays an MMO day one,” Asuna sighed. “Of course, that doesn't make me much better. Regardless, it's bad manners to go visit a blacksmith before you've even used the weapon they made. Especially a blacksmith you almost got killed to make said weapon.”
“I thought it was a fun little adventure. I mean, what's the fun without the sense of peril? And I'm saving the sword for a special occasion, isn't that enough of a compliment?”
Asuna planned to retort with a snark about how little he understood women, but stopped short upon realizing it would reflect poorly on herself. She instead elected to refuse comment, a silence that said plenty. Nevertheless, there was one thing it kept obscured, how happy she was to have the conversation, beyond just enjoying time with a comrade. Despite all the reassurances, there was still a reality-programmed part of her brain reminding her how much she needed to pee, filling the gap of the lost feeling SAO removed. It provided a sense of real desperation that she needed distraction from, as well as from the knowledge that she could turn any spot in this forest into her bathroom.
Well, she got what she asked for, in a shining, twisted example of fate's timing. In a way that could only be described as gamer's instinct, the two's attention locked to the same point in the distance. It was difficult to make out amidst all the trees, but at least two other players suddenly appeared. Whether they were always there or just teleported in, no one could tell, but there was something much more important of note, right on the player tags above their heads, in red font. “Red players,” Kirito warned in hushed tones. “Come on!” He grabbed Asuna's shoulder and pulled her down behind some nearby large bushes.
She didn't need the prompting to hide. The game's only punishment for player killing was being branded as such with their always visible nametags turning orange, despite it actually being murder. Granted, neither Asuna nor Kirito thought either of these players could beat them, but it was hardly the smart thing to start fighting now. Not only did they have no idea how many more PKers could be hiding just out of sight, but they also had no insight on motive or possible employers. Not to mention, even in self-defense, killing them would still be killing. Not just in the game, but personal morality.
However, she was ashamed to admit, that wasn't the worry on Asuna's mind. In truth, she had noticed these specific bushes earlier, observing how perfect they would be for her kind of cover in any other situation. Well, she was kneeling behind them now, just too bad she couldn't capitalize on the position. The mental repercussions of needing to go this bad were getting to her, she could just picture herself ripping down her underwear, squatting into total invisibility behind the cover, and letting loose. It was a nice ending to imagine.
Too bad she still had reality to answer to. Or rather, in-game reality. The surely loud sound of her splashing liquids on the hard soil would not only attract attention from the players they were hiding from, but it would also defeat the purpose of hiding the need from Kirito in the first place, not to mention in a place where he was in a better position to watch the ensuing show. He had taught her to be afraid of dying, how ironic that him seeing that would leave her wishing for death.
Why was she struggling so much now? She just checked her stats a little bit ago, where she was sitting at an acceptable 80%. It couldn't have possibly changed drastically in that short time, it had to all be in her mind. Just for confirmation, she pulled open her menu and took a peek at the meters. Things like hunger and thirst were still holding steady, but the bladder meter was now crimson red, the white text in front clearly reading a new number. “90%,” she whisper-called in disbelief.
Understandable, given her situation, but she had forgotten that she was supposed to be quiet. She remembered the split second after making noise, and covered her mouth in what could be considered an attempt to stop the sound from getting out, for all the good that'd do. “What was that noise,” she heard one of them say from behind her wall of greenery. Unable to see, she could just imagine a classic question mark appearing above their head, coming over to check and discovering the guild leader in her handicapped state.
Theoretically, Asuna may be able to fend off the attackers should it come to that, but it wouldn't be pretty. Aside from what would surely be a half-cooked attempt at non-lethal combat, her skill would be further masked by the painful urge to soak her clothing, a combination sure to end with a wet Asuna, at the minimum. Maybe Kirito could turn the tides in her favor, but there would have to be a tide first, a golden one.
“Who cares,” a different voice offered, must have been the other guy they noticed. “What part of 'Black SwordsMAN' do you not get? Some girl doesn't change our task, dumbass.”
“Yeah, but he's been spotted a lot with that Blood Oath chick. 'Esuna', or something.”
“And? Can you tell me what a high-ranking Knight of the Blood Oath would be doing in this forest?”
There was a long silence before the first guy answered, very hesitantly and weak. “They're...on a date?”
The other one, Asuna had lost track, was in stunned silence, closing it out with a grumble. “Alright, come on. You're clearly not well.” The sound of someone being forcibly dragged echoed low to the ground. “Let's just find this guy before you start eating crayons or something.”
Asuna and Kirito stayed quiet as the shuffling grew more distant, hardly even breathing, until they were sure the intruders had left. They stood up and cautiously walked out into the open, looking around to ensure there were no more lurkers. “Gotta be real, didn't see that coming,” Kirito finally spoke, bringing an end to the empty, awkward lull. “So, 90% what?”
After the fear of being discovered, Asuna had forgotten why she had called out before. The discomfort in her abdomen was still there, no way she could ignore that, but the connection was lost. “Huh?”
“You just suddenly shouted out '90%'. What was that all about?”
And the awkwardness was back. The questioning was all it took to link the dots, as Asuna remembered why her little problem was so worrisome. She was extremely desperate, sure to lose control unfortunately very soon, and she had made the permanent mistake of giving a verbal hint to the only person she was keeping silent from. If he knew, there'd be no reason to keep holding it, but letting that knowledge slip was even worse. Possibly. “O-oh, it was...nothing! Yeah, nothing! Don't even worry about it!”
Even as she was saying it, with the most forced smile ever produced by humanity and sweat rolling down her face, she knew there was no way Kirito would believe her. She was so unconvincing in her lies, absolutely no one could take her at her word. As she was looked over suspiciously, Asuna was already bracing herself to reveal the truth. It had to be better than having an public accident at her age, she kept going back and forth on which end would be more humiliating.
Occupied with the debate, at a lull where she wasn't expecting a response, Kirito shrugged. “Alright, fine. Let's get back to the search.”
That was the last response she would have expected, to the point she actually couldn't believe that was the response. It just wasn't possible that he actually believed her, no one could be that naive, that stupid. The only explanation was that he was purposefully respecting her privacy, but even that seemed a little unbelievable for the historically dense and thoughtless Kirito. Well, he had previously mentioned off-hand that he had a sister, maybe he was conditioned to leave girls alone when they said nothing was wrong.
Problem was, despite being aware of something wrong with Asuna, he still wanted to stay on the quest path. There was that Kirito thickness. She needed some kind of way out, and to her credit, she could think as quickly as she could fight, even in the heat of a battle like this. “Didn't you hear those guys? There are PKers actively looking for you, part of a Red guild it looks like, wouldn't it be way smarter to return to town and stay low until the hunt blows over?”
“It's not like you to lose your nerve like that, Asuna, not over something this small. They don't have the element of surprise anymore, and they probably can't even scratch us at our levels. Besides, the longer we wait, the more likely that someone else will complete the quest.”
“Agh, you're too much of a gamer sometimes! There are more important things at stake here!”
“Like what?” He was willing to let Asuna's weird behavior go before, but if she was going to keep drawing attention to it, he would pay attention to it. He was expecting some answer now, and he wouldn't let it go until he had the explanation.
Under the pressure of interrogation, plus the bladder pressure ten times worse, Asuna's mind was racing with excuses. It was dangerous now, she had come down with a status ailment sickness, they had a new mystery on why Kirito was being targeted, any one of them was a possible choice. As she was making the difficult decision on which one would get him off her case, a flashing red notification appeared in the top right corner of her vision, visible only to her. “WARNING: Bladder capacity at 95%. Empty soon,” it read. Given the rate of filling she was dealing with, Asuna roughly calculated that she had minutes remaining. She needed that escape, that relief, right now, a process now taking the forefront of her attention. “Like how I'm about to wet myself!” Unfortunately, it was intercepted by her search for a cover-up.
Once more, Asuna felt the regret of her words the instant she spoke them. That was it, her fabrication had fallen flat, all her time spent suffering under her full bladder was for nothing, now that she had just gone and spilled how something was about to spill into her underwear. Not that it was ever not about waiting, it could be said this whole ordeal was about the agonizing wait, but now she was waiting for a response from Kirito. She could only imagine his second-hand shame, his disgust at knowing his friend was pathetic and couldn't even be trusted with her own urine.
She could linger on those unpleasant thoughts, because Kirito was again taking forever to respond. It took so long this time that some sarcastic side of her wondered if his internet connection was lagging. She didn't make the snide remark, not that she would have under the circumstances, before the response she anxiously awaited with bated breath arrived. “That's it?”
Her reply came much quicker. “What do you mean, 'that's it'?! I'm going to have an accident because I've got nowhere to go and no time to make it back to town!”
“What do you mean, 'nowhere to go'? I figured you'd be comfortable with using nature's bathroom by now. I mean, how long have we been in here?”
“I can't do it with you around, because it's weird and you'll think weird things about me and-”
“What makes you think I care?” That simple question shut Asuna up as she had to admit, Kirito had a point. Reflecting on it, the only reason she figured he'd be grossed out by it was because he was a boy, and girls weren't supposed to talk about those kinds of private matters around those of the opposite sex. Not in the real world. But this wasn't the real world, those kinds of unwritten societal rules didn't apply in SAO, Eincrad was a lawless free-for-all.
More importantly, now was not the time to be hung up by modesty, reality be damned. Mostly because the desperation notification hadn't left Asuna's vision, and its live updates allowed her to see the percentage tick from 98 to 99%. Now more than ever, time was of the essence. She threw her hands on the front of her red skirt, pressing the fabric straight against her crotch with all her strength...accomplishing absolutely nothing, but it was hard to deny years of instinct. There was that nice, big bush they were hiding behind, and she was ready to repurpose it. “If you look, even a little peek, I'll kill you.” She couldn't afford to wait for an agreement, she bolted behind the hedge within a matter of seconds.
At least this marked the finale to the worst of the torment. She had plenty of experience with this part of the process, she didn't even need to think. It was all about the rush to undress, she lifted her skirt up and revealed her pink and white-striped panties. Just as she gripped the waistband underneath her thumbs, she saw the notification make its final jump, hitting that dreaded 100% and begin dropping as rapidly as it had grown, literally draining from her. The warmth of urine spread across her underwear, and in small streams running down her legs, staining the pure white color of her stockings. She was just a second too late, having a total accident as the torrent of pee poured down in a puddle of deafening splashes spreading in the soil beneath her boots.
It would be easy to give up now, but she had come this far, now was not the time to surrender. She ripped her underwear down her thighs, clearing the path for her to squat down and do her business in peace. She couldn't control the flow, it was running at full strength from the moment it began, but at least now it was directed safely. The yellowed waterfall rushed cleanly into the rapidly expanding ocean directly before her, foaming up and pulsing outwards in violent waves. And it just wasn't stopping.
Not that Asuna particularly minded that. While the descent into suffering of building need was masked by the game, it did no such dulling to the relief. It felt, frankly, incredible, one of the best calls nature had ever made to her. “Ooooooohhhhhhh...hah...ah...mmmmmmm...” She closed her eyes and panted, struggling to catch her breath as she shuddered at the intensity.
Her senses were all being overtaken by the unceasing gushing her body was producing. Goosebumps formed on her skin from the chilling pleasure, her ears picked up nothing but the crunching echo of raging rapids crashing against the rocks, she couldn't even focus on anything but the running faucet of her body once she was able to open her eyes. It put most of her senses in a position of total ecstasy, if only the unfortunate reality of smell wasn't bringing it down. This was one instance where she wished SAO put less detail in, in a mechanic she already wished didn't exist. Amazing release didn't change that, though it did make the distaste easier to accept.
It only got worse as her bladder finally neared that 0% she wanted so bad. All the good feelings were fading away, while their undesirable counterparts lingered. Still, she finished, she peed, at least she got the result she wanted. Soon, there wouldn't even be evidence, the liquid drenching the dirt was slowly fading away to reduce strain on the server's resources, leaving no visible proof of what she had done. It would have been a nice consolation, if she had anyone to hide it from.
Or if that consideration was extended to her clothing. Her underwear, looking at it stretched out between her splayed legs, was just as stained as when she wet them. “Ugh, I still have to wear these.” She'd rather ditch the undergarments, but no way that was an option right now. Not with a skirt, with someone to see, and no replacement. Wincing, she stood up and pulled the panties back up around her privates.
There was just one aspect she overlooked, and in all fairness, it was an obtuse thing to consider. The clothes all players wore were counted as equipment and armor, regardless of the defense buff offered. As such, whenever they took damage, it reduced the durability of the item. Getting clothes soaked with pee was counted by the system as a form of damage, and since Asuna wasn't in the habit of checking the stats of her panties, she hadn't realized that mild drenching had brought them to the edge of expiration. That tiny extra step, the minuscule wetness clinging to her girlhood now moving to her underwear pushed them over the line.
She didn't see it under her skirt, but she heard the telltale sound of glass shattering, a default sound effect used for the destruction of items. The mass of translucent blue polygons dispersed and flew out, fading into the air. Another notification appeared in her sight: “Your Panties broke!” She was in stunned silence as the implications of what that meant sunk in. Just to make sure she understood, a gust of wind blew past, lifting her skirt and fully exposing her new nudity. She silently thanked every deity from every religion that she was still in hiding when it happened.
While she'd have liked to stay behind the bush and ensure no one would ever see her, should she be caught short again, she recognized that there was no other way out, aside from messaging one of her friends to bring her a spare set of undergarments, and who knew how long that would take. She had to come out and face the humiliation. Still, she wasn't about to let another breeze pull its tricks, and she pressed her left hand to keep the front of her skirt down, with her right hand doing the same for the back.
Bracing herself for all the worst, Asuna left the cover, the sound of footprints prompting Kirito to look again. “Finally, you were taking forev...” His statement stopped short as he saw Asuna's angry face, the contradicting bright blush flush across her cheeks, and the placement of her hands. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We're going back to town right now.”
“Really? How badly did things go back there?” Asuna refused to answer, just stared a piercing stab into Kirito's eyes, forcing him into submission. “So...how did you let things get this bad? I figured you'd know how to time and prepare this kind of thing by now.”
She wanted to keep quiet and not justify any questions with answers, but she was angry about it, and wanted to get it off her chest. “It wasn't working the same way it always has! My meter kept jumping up super fast, and I didn't have the time to think things through!”
Kirito shrugged. “Maybe you should have thought of that when you kept guzzling down drinks at lunch.”
“What does how much I drank have to do with it?”
“They changed the bladder meter calculations, now it's more realistic. It'll go up faster if you drank more.”
This was news to Asuna. She knew how the bladder meter worked, she figured it out way back when SAO's hostage taking began, and it wasn't anything like that. “Since when?!”
“One of the recent updates. It was definitely in the patch notes.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She didn't know that bit of useful information, making it her fault that she was now going commando. It ignited a whole new wave of fury, and now she needed to release that too, with only one poor sap around to take it. “Even if you spend your nights reading patch notes, the rest of us have other things to entertain ourselves with! Maybe it would have been nice to tell me when you saw me drinking a bunch, before I had to worry about wetting myself! Or do you like seeing me desperate and about to pee?!”
Kirito just shook his head and sighed as he took the abuse, like a husband resigned to a lecture from a nagging housewife. Asuna kept ragging on, but not forgetting to keep her skirt secured. She continued rambling all the way to Lindarth before angrily marching away, leaving Kirito alone. He watched her leave, drawing the attention of the residential players with her awkward walk, until he realized the calm silence he had been denied for so long had returned, giving him the freedom to voice his thoughts once more. “What is her problem? She gets so angry, and fiery, and loud, and violent...it's a little cute.” |
Commissioned by @daveshuyi
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"What is taking him so long," Asuna Yuuki wondered as she stood awkwardly at the front desk of the Salon de Cafe, looking around at all the patrons at their tables, while she had to stand there, waiting for someone else. And there was one thing she was noticing among the customers, her fears from the outside being confirmed. "I'm way underdressed." This was a pretty classy place, and she was just dressed in normal street clothes. Granted, her normal clothes were nice, with a white coat, pink sweater underneath to stave off the mid-December Tokyo weather, but it wasn't cold enough to stop her from wearing a crimson skirt with only black tights beneath. She looked nice, but she wasn't dressed up and that made her feel inadequate. "Maybe I should have looked up the address when Kirito sent it, gotten a sense of the clientele."
"Yo, Asuna!" Upon hearing her name, and the voice she recognized best outside her family, Asuna swiveled around towards the entrance. Instantly, her worries about being overdressed washed away. Coming through the glass door was the man she was waiting for, the man who had invited her out for the day, Kazuto Kirigaya, or Kirito as she knew him as. To say the two knew each other from the days of Sword Art Online would be leaving out 99% of the story. Being used to him, her first thought was how basic he was dressed, in the same clothes he wore everywhere besides school: jeans, a t-shirt, and a black coat . "Sorry, were you waiting long?"
"Not that long. So, why'd you pick a place like this? This is more of the place I'd expect my mother to frequent, not so much you."
"You remember Seijirou, right? He treated me to this place while he was giving me the lowdown on Death Gun. It seemed like the sort of place that would make for a good date. I had a day off, you had a day off, so all the pieces fell into place."
"Kirito, you don't have to go to such lengths just for me. I mean, how much does a place like this cost?"
"...you got me. I have an ulterior motive for picking this place. Truth is, I still have a lot of money from the GGO case, even after buying a few things for myself and Sugu, it's more than I know what to do with. I do this, I can treat you and spend a lot of that cash all at once. Another win-win."
"Wow, I wasn't expecting such a practical reason for a man as obsessed with style as you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You stuck by a Photon Sword in a game called Gun Gale Online because it looked cool."
"No, it was because I spent years honing my skills with the blade! I don't know how to use a gun!"
"And I recall one of our first encounters involved arguing over who got to keep a black coat that you just wouldn't give up."
"I don't remember it going like that. Not saying it doesn't sound like me, but..."
"But you would do it. Because that's the Kirito I know." Asuna smiled happily, bringing Kazuto back from his arguing. Regardless of his quirks, she loved him, a very calming thought. "Well, you're here now. Let's get a table."
"After you." Asuna took the lead, though Kazuto still guided her to a table for two by the windows. "Be sure to take a close look at the desserts menu, they've got some real ritzy stuff."
"I'll look, but I need to be careful. A lady needs to watch what she eats."
"Come on, you can let loose a little bit. I still think you look a little malnourished."
"What kind of a compliment is that?"
"It's not. Are you sure that's how you looked before Aincrad?"
"Of course it is! I've been through physical therapy same as you, and I've weighed myself again! Same as I've always been, thir-" In her rant, Asuna had almost lost herself and revealed a woman's greatest secret. "It's none of your business!" She looked away as a blush illuminated her cheeks, grinding their conversation to a halt. It was only after a few seconds of silence that she looked back a small bit. "...do you really think I'd look better with a little more weight?"
"I don't think it's my place to tell you what to do, but I wouldn't exactly mind it."
"...I'll think about it." Asuna hid her face behind the laminated paper menu, not exactly reading the contents, just blankly staring at the words.
"Are you two ready to order anything?" In her self-inflicted isolation, she didn't notice the waiter approach their table.
"Should we just start with drinks, Asuna?"
Now she needed to super quickly scan the drinks menu to find something there she'd like. Time to prove that "Flash" was a legitimate nickname for her. "I'll take some of the green tea, if you please."
"And for you, sir?"
"Uh...I'll have the same. Actually, if we're both ordering the same thing, we should just get the pot of tea and share it. Is that alright," Kazuto asked.
"Yes, that sounds fine," Asuna agreed, putting her menu down on the table. "Thank you," she said to the waiter, dismissing him so he could fulfill their order. Now was the traditional time to hold small discussion. "Shino's first day in ALO was last week, wasn't it? How did it go?"
"Er, it went...fine. Yeah, nothing too special! We tried to complete that dungeon in the plains, just the two of us. We made it to the boss, he killed us, and...that was it!"
Kazuto never was a good liar, that much was clear from how awkwardly he retold the tale, yet Asuna made the conscious decision not to pursue questioning it, or else she might cause a scene in public with what she'd be told. If he was hiding it, he had reason to be afraid. Still, it was worth remembering, to grill him about later. Instead, she'd be asking the innocent questions for now. "Did Yui enjoy herself?"
"Yeah, she did. You know how she is, she always enjoys making new friends."
"Yes, I know. She's a good girl." The waiter returned with their white kettle of tea on a tray with two china cups, as Asuna noticed quickly. "Oh, thank you, sir," she welcomed, taking the pot and placing it gingerly in the center of the table.
"You've got a real knack for being polite, Asuna."
"Hm? Oh, yes, my mother was very diligent in raising me to be a proper lady."
"Well, good for her. You've turned out pretty well."
"Yeah...to be honest, I kind of envy you."
"Why? I can't think of reason why anyone would want to be me. You know, aside from the incredible skill at video games. Real enviable position I got."
"Because you get to be you. I have to act like a person I'm not just to make my mother happy, or I'm forbidden from my few outlets to be myself." She began pouring herself tea, looking down to ensure she didn't overflow the cup, serving a secondary purpose to not look Kazuto in the eye as she opened up about her personal life and concerns.
Kazuto didn't know how to respond to that. Despite the times he had been forced to do so, heart-to-heart support was not his strong suit. Maybe he had a natural talent for it, because the women he told "everything will be alright" to found strength in those words. So, it couldn't hurt to try again. "So, the girl I know isn't the real you? The girl I married in SAO isn't the girl you want to be? Maybe I should rethink something, then."
"N-no, that's not what I'm saying. I want...I want you to...you know what, forget it. This is supposed to be a date, and I'm bringing the mood down. I apologize for that." She brought the cup to her mouth, holding it with her pinky finger extended, slowly sipping it, so as to not burn her mouth. "Mmm! This is really good!"
Hearing the high praise, Kazuto poured his own share of the tea, drinking it quicker in a trademark reckless move. "Agh, too hot for me! I need to let it cool for a while before I can drink it."
"Suit yourself," Asuna shrugged, finishing off her cup, and quickly pouring another. She could probably drink the whole kettle, it was that good.
---------------
Ooh...I've made a horrible mistake. While Asuna hadn't made good on her promise to drink all the tea, a large fraction of it had indeed made it into her stomach. Or rather, it was previously occupying her stomach. Now it had trickled down south, collecting in her bladder in large quantities. Of course, she felt no urge while in the cafe, only a slight twinge while they were looking at books, a more pressing desire while she dragged Kazuto with her into looking at accessories, yet of course, the real need didn't arise until they were outdoors, in the park, with no restrooms to be found.
Well, in all honesty, she didn't know for a fact there were no bathrooms. She hadn't exactly gone looking, how could she with her boyfriend by her side at all times? She couldn't exactly tell Kazuto that she needed to pee, inform him of an action ranked among the top of a woman's most private. Not after what happened last time. Asuna didn't like the hold her mother had over her life, but she still took a few of the teachings to heart. Teachings such as "a lady's desire for the latrine should be kept to herself".
That's why, as the two sat on a bench in the park together, Asuna was subtly trying to squirm in her seat without drawing attention to herself. It was a challenging endeavor, finding that perfect, tiny balance in speed and ferocity at which she could rub her knees, between it being too slow to make a difference and too fast to remain stealthy. A lot of fine-tuning was required, leaving a lot of time for her bladder to begin whining about lack of reprieve.
Can I even make it back home before...something really bad happens? She didn't exactly live "close" to here, coming here required taking the train, so if she didn't get moving soon, she'd be cutting it incredibly close at the absolute minimum. If she dawdled, she'd have an accident in the walk between the station and her home, or worse, on the train. She needed to hurry, time was of the utmost essence.
But she was on a date with Kazuto at the moment, she couldn't just run off without any explanation. After their discussion earlier about who she wanted to be, if she just bailed on their date, he would think she was having second thoughts about their relationship. That wasn't the message she wanted to send, leaving her in a bind without a correct escape.
...should I just tell Kirito? While the first time was far from intentional or ideal, she had told him about an urgent need to pee in the past. So there was precedence, she had real proof that it didn't bother him, and it had to be better than wetting herself. But, on the other hand, that meant she had suffered through that horror once already, and had good reason to be in no hurry to repeat that moment. If Kirito never knows I need to use the bathroom again until the day I die, it'll be too soon.
No, this was the time to prove that she was one of the toughest players in Aincrad and be strong. She was nearly an adult, she couldn't be having a toilet emergency like a little kid anymore. It was her self-respect on the line, it was simply unacceptable to degrade herself to a lower level than a tutorial enemy. She would hold it. She had to hold it.
"Are you cold, Asuna," Kazuto asked from her side.
Asuna felt her heart stop. "W-w-why do you say that?!"
"Um...you're shivering. That's why I asked. I don't think a skirt was the best choice for hanging around outside, not with today's weather."
Asuna didn't even notice, but she looked down at herself and saw that, yes, she was shaking. She corrected that outward indicator of her state immediately. "I-it's really not that bad! I can handle a little chill."
"Do you want my coat?" Even as he was making the offer, Kazuto was already unzipping his coat, slipping his arms out of the sleeves.
"No, I wouldn't want to disturb your carefully-cultivated look. Frankly, you'd just look wrong in anything other than black."
"Hey, my school uniform is dark blue. My first SAO avatar wore dark blue too."
"Eh, that's close enough to black that it doesn't bother me. But a white tee? That's like the complete opposite of your usual color alignment." That was a good sign, even amidst her desperation, she kept some biting wit about her. Maybe she wasn't as bad off as she thought, that she was worrying herself for nothing.
That is, until she was hit with a surge of pain from her bladder, attempting to force its contents out in one push, save itself from the stress of holding any longer. Of course, Asuna wasn't having that, and she clenched her muscles to prevent any outflow, seizing her muscles in a frantic panic to stop any leaks before they could start. It worked, she remained entirely dry, but the wave hurt. No, I was right the first time. I have almost no time left.
"Alright, what is it this time? Your leg is shaking even worse this time."
Ah, I really need to pay mind to what I'm doing! "I-I promise, it's really nothing. My leg just fell asleep, that's all."
"We've been sitting down for a while now, should we start walking again?"
I don't know if I can handle much more aimless walking, it's imperative I not overexert myself right now. "T-that's okay, I don't-" But if we were to happen upon a public restroom, I could say I'd like to wash my hands or freshen up, and go in without admitting anything! "Actually, that sounds good. We may as well look at the rest of the park."
"Cool. Let's get going," Kazuto led, standing up, taking Asuna's hand to pull her up. "I hear there's a good flower garden on the opposite end."
"O-oh, that sounds nice." Well, if I'm looking for the bathroom, better to cover as much ground as possible. But it's not going to be easy, that's for sure. As the two headed down the path, she put her feet closer together and walked in small steps, thighs rubbing against one another with each tiny stride, heating her legs with the friction of her tights. The relief it provided was minimal, but right now, she would take anything. Those few extra seconds she could last may very well turn out to be the deciding factor.
---------------
Nng...hhng...ah ah ah! In such a short time, Asuna's desperation had spiked significantly, far quicker than she had thought possible. Why did I ever think drinking a lot of tea wouldn't result in this? It took every ounce of her willpower to not grab her crotch and start childishly dancing right where she stood, out of fear of judgment by the many bystanders, and the fear tenfold stronger of what Kazuto would think. This is way different than being in SAO, I have no idea how he'll react this time!
"They're really beautiful, aren't they, Asuna?" And Asuna had yet to find a bathroom, not even a glimpse of one despite her focused search. She certainly wasn't going to stumble across one here, a section of the park that was nothing but flat land, concrete paths stretching and spreading across the grounds like veins, all the grassy plains between them filled with homogeneous breeds of flowers in each separate field. The garden was so large that she could hardly see the borders from where she was standing, and there definitely weren't any bathrooms.
All she could do now was continue her crusade to not let on that she was in peril. And the only way she could do that was by distracting herself. "Y-yes, they are. I can only imagine how much effort it must take the groundskeeper to maintain this."
"I'd say it's worth it. I think a field of flowers like this is really relaxing to look at. Like, the large swaths of one solid color, blowing in the breeze...I find it soothing."
"R-really? I wouldn't have expected that soft side out of you." Don't make me laugh right now, I really can't handle it! She could perfectly picture the state of her bladder, like watching a river crash up against a dam, her imagination turned the river yellow, and suddenly, it was an accurate depiction of her body. At least, as far she figured. The mental image progressed, as the tide rose higher, almost overtaking the concrete wall, which was cracking under the crashing force.
Not good, not good! I can't last much longer! The urge was becoming louder, more demanding, and Asuna needed to find some way, some place, to relieve it. But there's no bathroom...what am I realistically supposed to do?! She looked around frantically for the tenth time, but no matter how many times she scanned her surroundings, a public restroom had yet to magically appear.
Ordinarily, that should have been the only criteria in her search, but as the time of an accident drew closer and closer, she began adding more maybes. Right outside the outer edge of the flower garden were trees, bushes, large pieces of flora that could theoretically hide a squatting woman of her size. What am I thinking?! I couldn't possibly...but I could... It wouldn't be hard, just get away, squat behind something, pull her tights down, and... No no no, I can't! Two years in Aincrad must have really screwed with me if I'm still thinking relieving myself outdoors is okay! Ugh, too many drinks, far too many drinks...
Drinks! That's it! "Hey, Kirito, I'm going to the vending machine to get some drinks. What do you want me to bring you?"
"Really? Don't you think you've had enough to drink today?"
Don't I know it! "My mouth's just a little dry, is all."
"I can come with you, and pay for my drink, if you'd like."
"No! Um, I mean, that's fine. You've treated me for everything today, I can spend a few hundred yen for myself and you."
"Well, if you insist. I'll just take some lemonade."
"Got it. I'll be back in a few minutes." That's a low estimate! I'll probably take a few minutes just going! Asuna walked briskly in the direction they entered the garden from, keeping her legs close together as her body strained to move amidst every stiff muscle.
It took a few minutes for her to escape the flower garden at her slow pace, upon which she immediately shuffled in the opposite direction from where the two initially came from. If there was a restroom to be found, it had to be somewhere she hadn't seen yet. But the park looked so big from the outside...I'll need some amazing luck to find anything!
As she hobbled through the park, Asuna continued to deteriorate. Without anyone she knew to witness, she had little hesitation in grabbing herself with everything she had, fingers quivering against her panties through her tights as the muscles in her palms rhythmically tightened. "Mmph...nngh, aah..." She couldn't stop grunting in distress as she suffered through each individual step, her hold growing weaker and weaker every time her shoes hit the pavement.
"Please...please, just give me something, I'm begging..." Those bushes are looking better and better every time I see them... Asuna had her pride, but she wasn't made of steel. It has to be better than having an accident, right? The mere idea went against every fiber of her being, but she couldn't deny just how amazing it would feel to pull her underwear down and let out a flood of urine behind some shrubs. It's really nothing bad...I wouldn't be a bad person for doing it...I did it a thousand times in Aincrad...
Yet, even as she continued to give herself reasons that public urination was the correct course of action, she couldn't bring herself to accept it. No...I'm a woman...I'm a lady...there's a proper restroom somewhere, it's my duty to wait to use that. "But if it's not incredibly close, I'm going to disgrace myself." But even after she had made up her mind, she couldn't help but divert her gaze to the bushes and trees she passed and whine, pining for the release they could bring if she could just let her guard down and abandon her dignity for two minutes.
"Eep!" Well, she let her guard down, just in the completely wrong situation. She had inadvertently relaxed just a slight bit, and with that error came leaks. With her hands placed directly on her crotch, she felt the warmth immediately. The tips of her fingers, clutching her pee hole shut, suddenly had a wet sensation forced upon them, straight through her panties, straight through her tights. It was small, only a tiny trickle, but the message was clear: "I can't hold it any longer!" If Asuna couldn't find a toilet right this second, she'd lose it. Her other hand shot down, forcing her skirt against her body, squeezing her eyes closed to focus all her energy on avoiding an accident.
After a solid minute of nothing but agony and suffering, dancing in place, possibly drawing the attention of every bystander, Asuna found the strength to open her eyes. And what she saw was the most beautiful thing she had seen in her life; in her haze, unable to think about anything beyond her burning need to pee, she had miraculously managed to shuffle within sight of a small brick building, with two entry points, marked with signs denoting gender. Asuna had made it to the bathroom. She could cry.
She could cry for many reasons, as the next thing she noticed besides the building itself gave her good reason to. Standing in front of the door to the ladies room was a line of women a dozen strong. Some of them looked to be in decent shape, but at least half were in dire straits, holding themselves and dancing, counting the seconds until the queue moved forward even one person. With a crowd like that, no matter how desperate she was, Asuna would get no sympathy asking to cut the line. The only path into the bathroom was through waiting, and though she sincerely doubted her ability to do so, Asuna took her place at the back of the line.
The change in her body was instantaneous. Whether it was the knowledge that a toilet was within her grasp, or knowing that it would elude her at this rate, her bladder spasmed and contracted, attempting to void its contents now. With her hands in the direct line of fire, Asuna felt the heat. "Agh!" Once again, it was short-lived, but the power behind it left an impact, splashing into her palms as the majority of her hands could feel the wetness. "T-this line better hurry up," she complained, bouncing in place and rhythmically colliding her knees, all the while bending forward at the waist, perhaps exposing a little more than appropriate from behind.
"Don't count on it," the girl in the spot before her warned, her tall stature making her potty dance all the more striking. "I've been here for ten minutes, and it feels like I've barely moved an inch. Ooh, if I was in the game, I could run in and be done in a second," she muttered, lifting one leg and rubbing it against the other.
So far, that prediction was proving accurate. Three minutes passed, yet only one woman exited and one woman entered. Is only one toilet working? Are the rest disgusting? I'm having an emergency here, you can all handle a little grime in the interest of hurrying things up! Yet, no matter how much she pleaded, the pace remained unchanged and agonizingly slow. How can I be expected to not wet myself at this rate?!
And the most torturous part was that, to her right, lay a second, vacant entryway, marked with a simple figure on a sign, identifying it as the male's restroom. A dozen women were being tormented by their bladders, and there was a perfectly functional, unoccupied men's room right there. I could...it would just take a minute, I'd be out before anyone could be weirded out...it's still a real bathroom, the men's room can't be that much different than the women's...
But what if there is someone inside?! Oh, if a man saw me enter so shamelessly, I'd die of embarrassment! I'd never be able to get married after that! Once more, a reasonable solution was presented to Asuna, practically gift-wrapped, but she couldn't convince herself it would be a solution she could live with. Every time, there was some fear of discovery that prevented her from following through. Asuna had standards. Standards that continued her torment.
A chilling breeze blew past the line, giving Asuna goosebumps under the low temperature. Thankfully, with her hands pressing her skirt down, the wind was unable to expose her underwear to the world, but that didn't mean she survived it unscathed. The gust was cold, the speed giving it the sensation of being far colder than the surrounding stationary air. That was to be expected for the winter season, but such a biting freeze had a negative effect on Asuna's constitution, the contrast between the cold air on her skin and the hot urine inside her body.
Asuna wasn't cold for long, or rather, her lower half wasn't. A surge of pee rushed out before she had any clue what was happening, drenching her panties in a second, piercing the front of her skirt pressed directly against the source, and a good portion snaking down her tights, dying the dark leggings even darker as the stream had nowhere to go with her legs pressed together but over her thighs. By the time it reached her feet, the multiple pieces of clothing and bodily impairment had broken the flood apart, and it crashed onto her shoes and the pavement in several simultaneous, powerful in their own right, gushes of urine.
The splashing of the growing puddle was certainly loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the line, accelerating the pee dances of some of the more desperate members, but it was positively deafening to Asuna. As the pool expanded thanks to the plentiful additions from above, she lost the ability to hear anything outside her immediate radius. She didn't want to hear anything, with so many witnesses, there would be one reaction sure to surface: mocking. She was now an adult, one dressed as the respectable member of society she tried to be, having an accident in the line to a public bathroom in the park.
Asuna could hardly think. It was partially due to the immense relief coursing through her body, she was bursting to pee and nothing could take away how good it felt to finally go after ages of waiting. However, that was hardly the most prominent thought on her mind. It happened...I put myself through torture to make it to a proper restroom, I turned down several alternatives to do so, and I still couldn't do it! I'm a failure. Maybe it would have been better if I did simply use a bush. I mean, it'd be a hundred times worse if someone saw me bottomless, but if I picked somewhere out of the way, that wouldn't have happened. Ugh, this was so much easier in Aincrad... Of course, none of those articulated introspections made it out of her mouth, instead replaced with one simple vocalization: "Oohhhhh..."
The next minute dragged on for an eternity, as Asuna continued to pee and pee, completely drenching the inner half of her tights and dying the front of her skirt a dark red. Any viewer could tell from a simple glance that, unless Asuna had a gargantuan bladder capacity for her size, she was ready to explode, and she couldn't help but let loose. By the time her golden waterfall slowed to a trickle, the puddle surrounding her had stretched well beyond her feet, far enough that it could have reached the woman standing in front of her, if she hadn't been able to step forward thanks to the slowly-shrinking line.
Finally, Asuna drifted back into reality. She blinked several times as she took in the bright sights of nature she had abandoned as soon as the floodgates opened, her worst fears realized. Once she could see again, she saw the other members of the ladies room line looking at her, or at least the ones not completely absorbed in not repeating her mistake. Even a few others who had just happened to walk by at the worst time had stopped to take in her shame. She could almost hear the laughter at a member of the wealthy Yuuki family doing something most toddlers had grown out of. If anyone knew who Asuna was, or if she was close enough to home to risk anyone she knew seeing her, she'd never be able to show her face in public again.
No longer anchored to the spot by her unresponsive muscles, occupied by her nerves overloaded by blissful release, Asuna did the only thing she could do, given the circumstances: run. Water began to form on her eyes instead of her crotch as her chest grew tight and her breathing shallow, she let go of her womanhood and bolted from the scene, trying not to cry, an effort that would soon turn out to be wasted energy. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, smearing and blurring her vision before she gave up and closed her eyes, and shouts of anguish filled the air around the stumbling, soaking young woman.
Her race away from her humiliation didn't leave much focus available to look forward, only avoiding looking behind. As such, it was only a matter of time before she crashed into something hard at top speed. If it was a tree trunk, she could have been seriously hurt, but whatever she hit recoiled back, like only a person would. "Ow! S-sorry," Asuna apologized, rubbing her sore spots down.
"Asuna?" Oh no. No no no nononononono! Anyone but him! Literally anyone would be better than Kirito! She really wanted to believe it wasn't him, like she could force it to be truth, but that voice didn't lie. In her blind panic, she had collided with exactly the man she had been running away from in the first place. "There you are, I came looking for you when you didn't come back. What happened?"
Asuna didn't respond. She didn't even look in Kazuto's direction, deliberately looking far to the side to avoid even the slightest glance at him. There were several seconds of awkward silence before Asuna made her move: leaping to her feet and attempting escape before Kazuto could catch wise.
Despite being well-known for speed, Flash could not escape Kirito's lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed her wrist once she stood up partially, still hunched over but on her feet, and wouldn't let go. "Hey, where are you going?"
She struggled against his grasp, but wasn't making any headway from it. If anything, the fight only made her predicament worse. Kazuto was eye level at her skirt, far closer than he should have been allowed to be. Hiding her accident was an impossibility here. All she could do was run away from the consequence. "Leave me alone! Just let me go!"
"What? Why would I do that?"
"You can see plenty well why! Do you really want to be seen with me now?"
"Well...yeah, I can see everything, but what does it matter? Is that really the reason you ran away?"
Asuna continued to wrestle for her freedom, but Kazuto was serious about keeping her close, leaving her no choice but to surrender, falling to her knees, a painful drop onto hard cement ground. "What's so wrong with not wanting to tell a boy about needing to use the bathroom?"
"Multiple things. First off, didn't we have this exact same discussion back in SAO? And second, is it really so bad just to admit you need to go to the bathroom? You know, when this is the alternative?"
"You weren't exactly sympathetic to my problems back in SAO either. You didn't help me then, why would I ever confide in you now?"
Kazuto was silent for a few moments as he let the accusation sink in. "...did you want me to comfort you?"
"I don't know, maybe. It certainly wouldn't have hurt to try and care about me when I was upset."
Once again, there was silence, outside of Asuna sniffling. The only thing that could calm her down was Kazuto reaching forward and hugging her. "Well, if it'll make you feel better. I can't stand to see you cry."
Stunned at the sudden affection, Asuna could only hug back. "T-thanks...so what made you think to come looking for me? And what made you think I'd be here?"
"Well, truth be told...I had sort of guessed what was bothering you a while ago."
"What?! H-how?!" After I went to all that effort to hide it?!
"The fact that I know exactly how you act when you need to use the bathroom? You can't stand still, your eyes dart about everywhere, and you suddenly act like you don't want to be anywhere near me. Also, I've got a sister, so you're not the first girl I've seen desperate."
"Oh, yeah..."
"So let me ask a question: why are you so determined to keep it a secret when you gotta pee? You've already told me before, I told you it didn't bother me, so why not tell me this time?"
"...because...it just feels wrong. It's a private thing, I can't just go telling you like it's no big deal."
"But...it is no big deal. Whether or not it's something you want to admit, it's something you need to do. You could have just said 'I need to go to the bathroom' at any point, I would have said it was fine, and you'd be done. Instead, you let...this happen, out of nothing but stubbornness. Sugu's the exact same way, and it just makes no sense to me."
"I don't think I can explain it. It's just a girl thing." Even calling it that was stretching, Asuna had no solid answer.
"Look, just...just be open with me. I don't want to overstep any boundaries by questioning things, but I can tell when something's bothering you. And I want to help, support you. And I can't do that if you think even the most normal human thing is too much for us. Do you think Yui's happy that her mom is making life so hard for herself?"
"O-of course she isn't! I'm not saying you're wrong, but...it's just so hard. I can't just undo what I've spent my whole life learning is proper behavior."
"I'm not asking you to, I just want you to trust me. We've put our lives into each other's hands, I want you to know...that I want what's best for you." Kazuto winced, a response that even his girlfriend covered in her own urine couldn't trigger. "Ugh, it's hard being all cute."
"But I like it." Asuna leaned in close and gave Kazuto a quick kiss on the lips. "Don't think I don't want you there watching out for me, it's just such a new experience. I don't know how to act."
"Take your time. I can wait until you're ready. Oh, but we should probably hurry you back home to change." Standing up, Kazuto, who had never let go of Asuna's wrist, pulled her up to her feet as well.
"Yes, I do need that pretty badly. But you don't have to come with me, I can take the train myself."
"But do you want to? Are you okay with everyone staring at you without anyone there for you?"
"...no. Okay, but I'm paying for your pass."
"You don't need to-"
"You've done so much for me today, it's really the least I can do to repay you."
"Okay," Kazuto nodded. Moving his grasp up Asuna's arm, he linked elbows with her, leading them out of the park, to the nearest exit to the train station.
Until a gust of wind blew past, making Asuna shiver. "Um, Kirito? Is it okay if I borrow your jacket to tie around my waist? It's...a little embarrassing how visible the accident is, and...you know, my white coat could get ruined if I used it."
"That's fine, I can always wash it." Unzipping his black coat, Kazuto slipped his arms through the sleeves and handed the jacket to Asuna, allowing her to tie the sleeves around her back and let the torso lay over the front of her skirt.
Well...it doesn't hide everything, but it's a little better, I suppose. "Thank you." Asuna tilted her head and laid it on Kazuto's shoulder, relaxing herself as her speech dropped into a mere whisper. "I love you, Kirito." |
Hey guys, Penny's back! I have a new story for you, fresh out of development hell! Enjoy!
It was late in the morning, and Penny was having breakfast and watching Saturday cartoons on TV, while Holly and Zara were playing FIFA's FUT Draft in Holly's room.
"Now for the final," Holly said, as the other team's players came up on screen.
"That's a lot of blue cards," Zara observed.
"Ronaldo, Messi, Suarez, Ramos..."
"No Chris Wood, though."
"They'll never beat Chris Wood!"
Later, during the match...
"5-0! Chris Wood has a hat trick!" Holly exclaimed.
"There's no way we'll lose now!"
The sisters came away with an 8-0 routing of their ostensibly terrible opponent, and viewed the player packs they got as prizes.
"They really need better prizes for this," Zara said.
"A Team of the Year card would be nice."
They continued playing FIFA for a while, and then the door bell rang, with Zara answering it.
"Hi, Karla!"
"Hi, Zara."
"How are you?"
"I'm great! How are you?"
"I'm good."
Zara brought Karla to Penny and they watched TV together, laughing at the characters on the show and talking about 9 year old things. A few minutes later, another friend showed up to join in.
"Hi Alana!" Penny said.
"Hi Penny!"
The three girls watched the rest of the TV show, and then a fourth friend showed up.
"Hi Betty!" everyone said.
"Hi everyone!"
The four girls then went upstairs to Penny's room to play together, and Holly and Zara went to prepare lunch.
"Put that piece on there."
"No, put it there."
"If you put it here, it'll look like a plane."
Penny and her friends were playing with Lego, building mini animals and mini planes and playing with them. Occasionally, someone would pick up a stuffed toy and pretend to destroy all the Lego creations and the Lego people. Alana picked up a Lego plane, stood up, and moved and spun around, having the plane fly really fast. Her legs were close together and her hips were swaying, giving the plane an erratic flight path, and her other hand was on her upper thigh. Penny then took another plane and crashed it into Alana's, tackled Alana to the ground, and started tickling her. Alana wormed around, laughing and screaming, and Karla and Betty joined in the fun too. The tickling went on for what seemed like ages, before the girls resumed with the Lego and teddies, Alana fidgeting periodically. A while later, Zara came in to the room and called them down for lunch, Alana standing up cross legged before going downstairs.
The girls arrived to plates of macaroni and cheese and party pies, and dug in enthusiastically. There were also jugs of coloured cordial, which the girls liked very much, and Penny especially had lots of it. After they finished their lunch, they went to the backyard and played more games. Penny and Karla brought wands with them and the girls pretended to be magical people, with even Holly and Zara joining in. Zara noticed that Alana was very hyper, even more than the others, and suspected that she needed to pee. She wondered when Alana would actually go to the bathroom, and her squirming reminded Zara of her own need to pee.
The young girls were still guzzling cordial, and they continued to run around and cast spells at each other, but with time their bladders filled and their running became squirmier. Karla decided to go pee, but the other three kept playing, not wanting to miss even a little bit. It wasn't long, however, before they were all in dire need of the toilet. Betty was next to go, and she ran off towards the bathroom. Alana and Penny were by now holding themselves, but neither made any move toward the bathroom. Karla cast a pretend spell and Alana and Penny were blown to the ground. Penny got up easily, but Alana's bladder made her much slower. They then walked over to Zara to get more cordial.
"Penny! This is your seventh cup of cordial!" Zara said.
"So? I like cordial."
"You must really like it to have seven cups of it."
Penny nodded in response.
"You two seem squirmy. Do you need to pee."
"No," responded Alana.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Zara."
"If you say so."
Penny and Alana talked for a few minutes while downing their cordials, neither of them capable of staying still, and then ran back to the action. Penny was by now very hyper, but Alana was very stiff in her movement and was clearly struggling against her bladder. The girls kept playing, though, and their bladders got fuller and fuller.
Suddenly, Alana stopped and grabbed herself tightly with both hands. Betty cast a pretend spell on her, but she didn't respond. A growing wet patch appeared on the crotch of Alana's pants. She was frozen in place as spurt after spurt of pee came out of her. Alana tried to hold it in, but the relief was too much for her, and she let go. Wetness spread through Alana's pants until they were thoroughly wet, and relief was plastered on her face as she peed and peed. Seeing Alana's accident proved a tipping point for Penny, as she started to leak into her own pants, but she still refused to go to the bathroom. Then Alana and Karla tickled Penny, resulting in Penny's bladder finally giving up. Penny was writhing under Alana as the tickling continued and the urine kept flowing. Eventually, Penny and Alana were left lying on the ground by the ordeal.
"Pantus washus!" chanted Karla, resulting in laughs all around. Zara and Holly went off to Penny's room to get some clean clothes, and upon their return, Penny and Alana got changed and the girls all went inside. A while and many snacks later, the parents arrived to pick Penny's friends up, none the wiser as to what happened thanks to Alana's new pants being identical to her drenched ones.
"Should we wreck some noobs in Overwatch?" Holly asked.
"Yeah, sure," Zara replied, "but I'm going to the bathroom first. I really need to pee."
"Sure you are. I dare you to hold it until you win a couple of matches. You know it's more fun when you're full."
"Ugh. I hate it when you're right."
Edited October 31, 2017 by Trickling Down
(see edit history) |
Thanks y'all! I really appreciate the kind comments. This next chapter requires the sex tag. It's not super hardcore or anything. But there is sex, so be warned. :)
***
"I think you should just pee your pants."
"Really?" I said as I looked around the lecture theater. "People will definitely notice. Maybe not straight away... But when I get up to leave... They are definitely going to notice."
"It'll be fine" Camille reassured me in a low voice. "You don't want to miss anything. Prof Sketchley is going over what'll be on the final. And those pants are black, they won't show any wetness."
I wavered. On the one hand I really didn't want to miss finding out what would be on the final, and if I was honest, I kinda wanted to wet myself in front of Camille again. It was rather thrilling and the sex afterward was the best of my life. But on the other hand I really didn't want my classmates to see that I wet my pants in a lecture. Not even a little bit. "That's what you said last time. And it showed. Big time."
"These ones definitely won't. I promise."
I didn't need as much persuading as I would have thought. Heart pounding I relaxed my bladder and was instantly rewarded by the feeling of hot urine bathing my crotch and butt. I looked down at myself and was relieved to see that this time Camille was right. Nothing showed at all.
I closed my eyes and pushed harder, enjoying the feeling of emptying such an overfull bladder. The wet feeling spread down my legs and up my back. Wait... How was my back getting wet... Oh shit.
I opened my eyes again and looked around the room in disorientation. Dim light filtered through dirty windows. Bedroom. I was lying down. Oh hell no! I thrust my hand down to my crotch in panic, dreading what I'd find.
I hadn't wet my bed.
I'd wet Camille's bed. Which is one hundred million times worse.
My pee was everywhere. I was wet to my shoulders and past my knees. My butt was in an actual puddle I peed so much. What was she going to say?
"Hey." I startled a little. She was already awake! "Did you... Have you had an accident?"
I tried to interpret her tone. Annoyance, concern, confusion? She just sounded sleepy. I apologized profusely. "I'm so, so, so sorry. I'll pay for a new mattress. I don't know how this happened."
She rolled over, pressed her body against me, and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. "It's OK. These things happen." She gently kissed my neck, "Don't worry about the mattress. There is a waterproof mattress protector on it."
I was so relieved she wasn't mad. And that I wouldn't have to somehow find the money to pay for a new mattress. "Why is there a waterproof mattress protector on your bed?"
Her kisses had migrated across my face to meet my mouth. It took her a minute to explain between pashes. "Sometimes I wet my bed." Another long kiss. "Not by accident in my sleep, like you just did." A shorter kiss, "But I always wake up badly needing to pee." A longer kiss, "And sometimes I wake up really horny." Her hand snaked its way into my wet boxers and wrapped itself around my penis. "And I just have to play with myself." She began gently stroking me and grinding herself against my thigh in the same rhythm. "And if I can't hold on long enough to finish." She nibbled on my ear lobe and whispered the end of her story, "I end up peeing in my bed."
If you had told me they year before that I would one day find a girl telling me how she pees on herself to be one of the most erotic moments of my life I'd have told you to put the bong down. But it absolutely was.
If Camille had kept rubbing me I'd have orgasmed within the next minute, but to my mild, though very temporary, disappointment she stopped.
"Boxers off." She said shortly. I'd barely kicked them off my ankles when Camille swung her leg over me and straddled my groin, one knee next to each of my hip bones, both squishing in my puddle. I took me a second to realize she was naked. Stupidly I said as much. She was always amazingly fast at taking off her clothes.
"Well you got your pee all over my pajamas." She teased. "I had to take them off."
She reached down and deftly slid me inside her as she lowered herself onto me. I could see even in the dimness her eyes roll back as a little moan escaped her lip.
I'm stupid. It's the only explanation. In retrospect it was blindingly clear, but this was the moment I realized Camille liked me wetting her bed. She liked me peeing my pants. Presumably she liked peeing her own pants. Yeah. I'm pretty stupid.
"So you don't mind me wetting your bed?" I asked in an attempt at a sexy tone.
She looked at me like I was stupid, but kept up a rhythm of slowly lifting herself a few inches and then smoothly lowering her hips so my entire dick disappeared inside her, "Um, no. I don't mind at all... Um... So what happened? Did you just wake up wet? Or mid-pee? Did you... Have a dream?"
"I had a dream. I dreamed you told me I should just pee my pants."
"Really? That doesn't sound like something I'd say." She said with a smile.
I recounted my whole dream to her. I could tell she was getting more and more turned on with every word from the little sounds she was making and the tiny contractions her vagina was transmitting.
"I'm sorry." She stopped her rhythm and gently wriggled a little. "I just woke up." I didn't say anything so she continued after a few seconds, "So I really need to pee. Like, right now. I can run to the toilet and come straight back if you want? Or...?"
"You can just go here?" I offered. I wanted her to. Again, I'd never thought a girl peeing on me could be sexy. But now... I really wanted her to.
"OK." She sounded happy. Really happy. I didn't have long to wait. An absolute torrent suddenly poured across my groin and belly. It was so warm.
She wasn't even finished peeing when her pussy started the wild contractions that I knew meant she was orgasming. I was never able to resist those contractions, they tipped me over the edge into ecstasy. I've never come harder before or since. My skin crackled with the electricity.
We kissed wordlessly for a while longer as I softened inside her. Eventually she slid off me and into our joint puddle with what can only be described as a splash.
"Shower?" She offered. |
"I think you should just pee your pants."
"I'll be fine." I told Camille through gritted teeth.
"Uh-huh. Sure." Her smile was that slightly irritating know-it-all smirk she has.
Not that she was wrong. I was as desperate to pee as I could remember and was sincerely regretting accepting Camille's challenge to see who who control their bladder longer. I had long believed that men have better bladder control than women, and that Camille in particular, she who wets herself out of convenience, would have a weaker bladder than most women. Apparently not. We had drunk the same jumbo sized post-mix cola drink during the movie, I checked she drank all of hers, but she was driving along without showing any sign that she needed to pee. I, on the other hand, felt as if I was just minutes away for peeing all over her passenger seat.
"I really don't mind if you wet yourself." She offered again. "The seats are vinyl, easy enough to clean up. I've peed myself in this car plenty of times."
At that frank confession I felt myself start to become aroused. How was it possible that in just a few weeks the thought of a pretty girl peeing her pants would change from rather gross to thoroughly appealing? Camille. That was how.
"Do you want me to tell you more about it? About the warm wetness spreading through my crotch and down..."
"No thanks!" Part of me really did want to hear that story, but I didn't want to be thinking to much about pee at that exact moment.
"Suit yourself." She agreed amiably. "I'm pretty sure you are going to know exactly how it felt in a few minutes."
Somehow I managed to hang on. It was pointless pretending it wasn't an emergency so I spent the entire drive back to Camille's place wriggling and bouncing around in my seat. For the last five minutes I resorted to physically holding myself. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if I had spontaneously erupted and peed all over Camille's car. Maddeningly she insisted she didn't need to pee. I'm almost certain she deliberately hit every red light she could and drove ten under the speed limit.
When we finally pulled up out the front of her house I all but leapt from the car and raced up the begonia lined path to her front door.
"Hurry up and open the door?" I tried not to plead as she took her time walking up to the veranda.
She pressed the doorbell as she replied, "Sorry. I left my house key inside. I realised during the movie. Don't worry though, I texted Anne to check she was home to let us in."
It was probably only about thirty seconds between Camille pressing the doorbell and Anne opening the door, but I swear they were the second longest thirty seconds of my life.
The longest thirty seconds of my life immediately followed. Just as Anne opened the door my bladder, perhaps excited by the bathroom now being just ten unimpeded meters away, gave an almighty spasm and to my horror I found myself unable to stanch, or even stem, a veritable torrent of urine from gushing out of me.
Three pairs of eyes instantly found my crotch where the blue denim was rapidly darkening and licking down my right leg. I was peeing so furiously that I could easily hear both the hissing sound of me going and a steady patter of droplets where the fabric of my jeans was so overwhelmed that they fell directly to the weather-worn timber decking.
I hadn't even quite finished my accident when Camille put her arm around my shoulder and cooed, "There there, at least you feel better now."
To a shell-shocked Anne she rolled her eyes and said, "I warned him not to get the jumbo size."
I took off my shoes and socks and left them at the door to deal with later. Anne retreated to the living room. Camille and I fairly raced to the bathroom. I expected her to dive straight for the toilet. Surely she had to pee? Even if she was pretending she didn't need to. But instead she pulled me against the wall and started unbuckling my drenched pants.
"Oh my god that was so hot!" She whispered fiercely into my ear and pressed her lips hard against mine. Even without looking she had me free of my pants and was rhythmically stroking my immediate erection. "I can't believe you had the balls to just piss yourself in front of Anne like that!"
"I didn't" I confessed.
"Um... Pretty sure you did."
"No, obviously I did. But it wasn't a matter of bravery. I just couldn't wait a second longer." I explained.
She stopped kissing me and pulled her face back from mine. "You had an accident in front of Anne."
Her hand still held me, but it was no longer rubbing and for a moment I wasn't sure whether I'd misjudged her interests and there was a problem. "Yeah." I said in a small voice. I could feel myself swell even more underneath Camille's hand at the renewed embarrassment of this admission.
"Fuck! That's fucking amazing." And then her tongue was in my mouth.
"Put your hand up my skirt." Camille breathed,
I didn't need to be told twice. My hand quickly ran its way up the inside of her thigh until it met with fabric. Her knickers were already damp. No, they were wet. Soaking wet. No one can be that aroused.
"When did you..." I started to ask.
She gave me an impish smile, "The cinema carpark. When I was texting Anne on my phone before I got in the car. I'd never have been able to wait till we got back."
"So I won then? I held it longer than you?"
Camille smirked, "Well in a sense I guess you won. But you did just have a pee accident in front of Anne. So..."
The combination of the evening's excitement, Camille's skilled rubbing, and my discovery that she had also wet herself had me right on the edge of ecstasy and the reminder that Anne had witnessed my embarrassment proved too much for me and I exploded over the front of Camille's t-shirt.
"Good boy." She murmured then kissed me deeply. "Shower?" |
Thanks everyone! Have a chapter 5 :)
***
"I think you should just pee your pants."
"Oh really?" Camille seemed amused by my whispered suggestion. "Right here? In a crowded coffee shop?"
"Well it would serve the barista right for not letting you use the toilet."
She seemed to consider it for a second, "Nah. I'm sure she doesn't set store policy so making her clean up a puddle isn't cool. Besides, I don't need to pee that badly."
I was half disappointed that she had dismissed my suggestion. I rather fancied Camille wetting herself, and maybe having to feel some of the embarrassment I felt when she maneuvered me into having an accident in front of her roommate, Anne. I had the briefest fantasy of her helplessly drenching her long burnt orange skirt while the coffee shop patrons looked on. But on the other hand I quickly realised that I would have been very embarrassed by my girlfriend wetting herself in public, probably more so than she would have been, knowing her. So as we walked hand-in-hand down the esplanade of the seaside town a couple of hours drive from our university I reflected that I was actually rather relieved that she hadn't taken my teasing seriously.
We browsed an extended series of old wares and second hand bookstores over the next hour or two. That was actually our reason for being in this particular town. While it is more famous for its excellent beaches and surf neither Camille or I particularly care for either sand or the sea. Camille has a thing for antique fans and I have a keen interest in classic sci-fi novels. I picked out a few Azimov's I hadn't read and a lesser known Bova, she ended up choosing a black lacquered fan with a hand painted ocean scene that I carefully tucked in a bag beside my books.
I had expected that Camille would need to find a toilet at some point and I'd been keeping an eye out for a public loo for her without success, though surely the town had to have a toilet block somewhere. By the end of our shopping I was also looking for myself. It wasn't urgent by any means but I definitely didn't want to brave a drive all the way home on a full bladder.
At length we reached the end of the strip of shops and Camille suggested we head home with our purchases. I brought up my need for a toilet break.
"I think you should just pee your pants." Camille said with a twinkle in her eye.
"Ha ha ha." I rolled my eyes at her.
She grinned back. "There's a toilet block back near the carpark."
I hadn't noticed it when she parked her car at the lot overlooking the beach, but Camille seemed sure.
She was right. A squat stone building. Change-rooms for bathers as well as toilets. Which made sense, of course the public toilets would be right next to the beach.
A group of young people, maybe a few years older than us were walking past us when we were almost at the toilet block. The guys were wearing trendy board shorts and no shirts, the girls were all in quite revealing cossies. I'll admit I was subtlety checking them out and considering whether the beach might not be all bad when I heard Camille gasp loudly "Oh no!".
The beach-goers and I turned to look at her. She had lowered herself into a half crouch and jammed her left hand between her legs. Her right hand covered her mouth and her eyes were wide with panic. I heard that steady patter of pee on grass before I saw the wet stains spreading across Camille's skirt. She kept pulling the wet fabric away from her crotch only to grab a different handful of skirt and push her hand against herself once more. Between that and the fact that she was bobbing up and down between an upright stance and a half-squat her skirt ended up almost entirely soaked by the time she was finally finished peeing.
During her accident the beach-goers had just stared in a stunned silence but the moment she was finally finished it was like a spell was broken and they walked quickly away. Snatches of their conversation drifted back to me; "Oh my God!", "Did that just really happen?", "I can't believe that chick just pissed herself!"
I gave Camille a comforting hug, certain she'd be devastated by what had just happened.
"Was that what you wanted?" She asked brightly
I was confused, and told her so. Why wasn't she upset?
"You asked me to wet myself back in the coffee shop." She seemed a little put out.
"So..." I struggled to catch up, "This wasn't an accident?"
She narrowed her eyes, "No. I don't have accidents."
"Really? You've never had an accident?"
She scowled at me, "I've got a change of clothes in the car. Come on."
We walked over to the back of the car-park where we left Camille's car. I felt bad that I hadn't reacted the way Camille wanted to her wetting herself. It wasn't that I hadn't found it sexy, in hindsight it was very sexy. I just hadn't realised that she had meant it to be sexy. I wasn't sure how to explain that. Camille opened the boot of her car and pulled out a towel, knickers, and a long black skirt from a plastic bag. She changed between two cars rather than walk back over to the toilet block in peed clothes. Her wet clothes went into the plastic bag and she tossed that and the towel back in the boot.
"Ready to go?" She asked in a tight voice. It was the first thing she had said to me since we got back to the car.
My bladder sent me warning pangs at the prospect of leaving. "Can I just head to the toilets before we leave?" I asked Camille as she secured the ties on her new skirt.
"No. I don't think so"
"Really?" That wasn't the responce I had expected.
"No. I think I'm ready to leave right now." Her voice was firm with annoyance.
"But I won't be able to hold on all the way home!"
"You'll just have to try." She said with a shrug. "But I'm going to drive off and leave you if you walk over to those toilets."
"I'm serious Cami. I'm really busting. If I get in the car without peeing I'm not sure I'll make it all the way back."
"In that case I think you should just pee your pants. There's no point struggling through an uncomfortable car ride if you are just going to end up wetting yourself anyway."
I didn't particularly want to wet myself. Especially not in public, even if no one was nearby, so I decided I would just get in the car an see how it went. Hopefully Camille would either relent and stop at a petrol station or something or I'd surprise myself and hold on the whole way home. And if not... at least Camille's car wasn't too hard to clean.
"I'll try to hold on." I said grimly.
"No. I've changed my mind. I really think you should just pee your pants. I don't want you distracting me by spending the trip fidgeting and bouncing around." She said firmly.
"Really?"
"Yep. Pee yourself."
There was something in Camille's voice that I didn't want to disobey. So I peed my pants. There by the side of Camille's car in the car-park of a seaside town I relaxed my bladder and thoroughly soaked my shorts. By this stage the now familiar feel of hot pee soaking my underwear and running down my legs had become quite arousing in its own right. I found I had to start pushing in order to maintain a strong stream as my body was attempting to become erect. When I had finished I saw I'd made a rather sizable puddle on the asphalt. It was slowly trickling away from me under the next car over due to some slight slope unnoticeable to the eye.
"I don't have a change of clothes." I suddenly remembered in dismay.
"You should probably start carrying one if you are going to keep wetting yourself." Camille observed dryly. "You can wrap my towel around you."
While driving all the way back wearing only a towel didn't promise to be the most comfortable of trips wearing peed shorts for hours would be worse, so I striped off quickly, wrapped the towel around my waist and jumped in the passenger seat of Camille's car. Camille slid into the driver's seat and turned on the engine and air conditioner. She turned to me with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I may have reconsidered whether I really want to leave straight away." She finally smiled and slipped a hand under my towel.
***
We might get some more Anne in chapter 6...
I'm glad! Did this chapter count? If not we might still get there... |
Sex tag again for chapter 6. You've been warned! :p
***
I woke up disoriented, groggy, and two seconds before I peed myself.
I did try to hold it to begin with, but my bladder was far too full and my muscles were far too weak. I was quickly overwhelmed by a surge of desperation as unstoppable as holding back the tide with a broom. Every time I managed to stem my stream the irresistible urge would return ever more fiercely. It was hopeless. I helplessly poured my bladder into Camille's bed.
"Cami?" I shook her shoulder gently. I hoped she wouldn't mind what had just happened even though she would surely be tired.
"Mrmm..." She struggled to wake up. "What time is it?"
I didn't know. Early. It was nearly pitch dark. I could see a vague shape that suggested Camille but nothing more of her.
"Have you wet the bed?" My wet patch must have extended to her. "I'm not surprised with the amount of beer you put away last night."
"You drank just as much." I said defensively.
"Mrmm. And I didn't even wet the bed."
"Well you don't have accidents." I quoted her.
"Nope." She agreed. "So... Shower? Or sex?
I answered her with a kiss that started awkwardly as I struggled to find her mouth in the darkness. Her hand brushed against my penis, already rock hard in anticipation.
"Sex it is then." She said agreeably.
I ran my hands down Camille's body, surprised to find her naked, she usually slept in undies at the very least. Then I remembered we had had drunken sex when we got back from the party the night before. I'd probably fallen asleep straight afterward, sex does that to me, without remembering to go to the toilet. That explained the bed-wetting. My hand found its way between her legs and I began to lightly stroke the length of her vulva. My fingers becoming rapidly slick with her arousal.
Camille gave a quiet moan of appreciation and after a few minutes declared enigmatically, "All things considered, I suppose I may as well join you."
I was only confused for a moment before a scalding wave began washing over my hand. Camille must have badly needed to pee because it seemed to go on for minutes. I didn't slow my attentions.
"Left and right." She instructed. I adjusted to suit, moving my fore and middle fingers steadily over her clit. I could feel her pee make it's way across the bed under me, warming my cooling contribution.
"I did have an accident once." Camille said out of nowhere.
"Oh really?"
"Just once." She lapsed into silence. I wondered if I was meant to ask for details.
"It was just before I moved down here for uni." I knew Camille had lived up the coast for most of high school, she'd come out to Australia about six or seven years ago when her dad got a job designing a coal loader, or something like that. "I'd only turned eighteen a month or so before, in the middle of exams so I couldn't celebrate properly. But after exams my friends and I started hitting the pub. Accumulating some good times before we scattered across the country."
My contribution was nothing more than "Mmms". I didn't want to derail a chance to hear Camille explain her accident.
"It was probably only the second or third time I went to the pub. I was drunk. On beer. It goes right through you don't you know?" She was teasing, I could imagine her mocking grin even if I couldn't see it. "It was my shout and while I was waiting at the bar for the barchick to work out how to make some tourist's cocktail I realised I really had to pee. Faster." The last was an instruction. I rubbed her clit faster as she lifted her hips slightly to press herself against my hand.
"I figured I could wait. I didn't know then that when you are drinking beer and you need to pee you have to go pee straight away. So I held it until she served me my schooners and I brought them back to my mates. Of course I ran off to the loo straight after that." She paused for either dramatic effect or because of what my fingers were doing to her, "but by then it was too late."
I desperately wanted more details but she seemed to consider the story complete. "Round and round." She panted.
Eventually I asked, "What happened?"
"Mrmm?"
"When you were in the pub? And had... your accident?"
"Oh! I didn't quite make it to the toilet. It started running down my legs as soon as I got to the ladies'. I was wearing a dress so it didn't really show, but my knickers were so wet by the time I got in the stall I just sat down and went through them."
I honestly thought I might come without even touching myself when she said that. "What did you do after that?"
She was distracted. I could tell from her breathing she was nearing release. "Dried myself off with loo roll and went back to drinking with my mates."
"Wearing wet underwear."
"Uh-huh. It was actually really arousing wetting myself like that. I didn't know that I'd like it before that happened. It's really what got me into pee in a sexual kinda way."
"And no one ever realised you were wet under your dress?" I fantasied about reliving such a scenario with Camille in the near future.
"Oh I told them when I got back to the table! It was a funny story."
"They didn't tease you?" I was shocked she would admit to peeing herself to her friends.
"Of course not. You might need to get better friends. Faster."
She was definitely close now, she squirmed beneath the rapid vibration of my cramping hand.
"We just had a good laugh. A few of the others told their own pee stories. And that was that."
I wanted to ask about her friends pee stories but wasn't sure it was a good time. Regardless, Camille took the decision away from me by orgasming under my touch.
"I want you!" She said firmly and pulled me on top of her. I was inside her within moments, and ejaculating, disappointingly, electrically, on the second thrust.
"You liked my story then?" The teasing voice was back.
I mumbled a post-coital assent and flopped back against the wet sheets.
She gave me a few minutes to recover, maybe she needed them herself.
"You get the sheets in the washer, I'll make the bed." She had the lights on and was already stripping the bed before I'd even gotten up. "And get in the shower. I'll join you in a sec."
I staggered down the corridor, wet sheets in arms. I probably did see that the light was on in the bathroom before I went in. I don't remember it registering with me though. Maybe I was in a post-orgasmic haze, maybe I just assumed it had been left on. I certainly didn't expect to walk in on Anne. She was bending over the washing machine, putting in the detergent. She was wearing a thin lilac nightie, though it was stained violet with moisture from her shoulder blades all the way down to the hem that clung wetly to the back of her thighs. I was thankful I'd only just come or I'm sure I would have developed an extra embarrassing problem.
Anne heard the bathroom door open and spun around almost before I could register what she was wearing. The front of her nightie was much dryer, though the violet wetness was still visible on her right hip. We both jumped from the surprise of running into each other in the middle of the night.
"Sorry!" We said together. I laughed with jangling nerves.
"Do you have some washing to do as well?" Anne nodded toward the bundled sheets I was holding in front of my crotch.
I blushed. "Yeah."
"Just pop them in the machine. There's enough room for two sets." She was blushing as well.
"I'm actually not wearing anything at the moment..."
"Oh! Um... I can close my eyes for a bit? And... do you mind if I have the first shower?"
"No no. That's fine." This was possibly the most embarrassing conversation of my life. It probably was for Anne as well. "I'll just put these in the machine then..."
Anne turned around and let me put my wet things in the washer. I took the chance to give her wet sleepwear a long look. She must have peed herself lying on her back. A full bladder as well by the look of it. I could feel the blood starting to return to my penis so I quickly sliped out of the room and went back to Camille's bedroom. She was just pulling the fitted sheet over the last corner of the mattress. She raised a questioning eyebrow at me.
"Anne is having a shower first." I answered her unspoken question.
"In the middle of the night? Why would she be having a..." Camille trailed off, "Oh. She wet the bed as well?"
"Big time." I said in confirmation.
"Well I did tell you she does that sometimes." Camille said with a shrug.
"Of course, we are going to have to find something to do while we wait..." She said as she sat down on the end of her bed with her legs well apart.
***
Yep. That's literally what I was doing next! Good guess!
It's not really in Camille's character to be embarrassed by much, certainly nothing pee related. Without too many boring writing process related comments. I write a character concept block before a story. Unflappable and brazen are Camille's defining characteristics!
Thanks! |
New Chapter! Number 7, crazy. Sex tag again, and for the first time Diapers, though I don't once actually use that specific word. Neither of them are particularly intense, as usual my focus is on wetting. Still, you've been warned!
***
"I think you should just pee your pants."
"But I'm not wearing pants." I knew what Camille meant. I was buying time to decide what I wanted to do.
"Your protection then." She purred. "You know you want to."
I hadn't been enthusiastic about the concept of wearing what basically amounted to a nappy whenever I wanted to sleep over at Camille's, but she had insisted that if I was going to keep wetting her bed then I was going to have to wear something to keep her sheets dry. I had tried to complain that I'd only peed in her bed twice but she'd been insistent. The best I was able to negotiate was that if I stayed dry for a month I would be allowed to go without them after that. This wasn't something that particularly concerned me since I could count the number of times I'd wet the bed since I was a child on one hand. It just happened that two of those times had been in the last couple of months, in Camille's bed.
And indeed, it hadn't been a problem, I'd sailed through the first half a dozen or so times I'd slept over a her place following her "protection rule" with nary a leak and had just woken up on the final morning of my probation as dry as a bone. Though I was certainly as busting as usual first thing in the morning. My bladder had that nagging ache that told me I better get up soon if I expected to empty it in a toilet.
"If I do... does that mean I have to keep wearing the special underwear?" I was not going to be peeing myself if the answer was yes.
"Of course not. That was just in case you had another accident." She licked my earlobe. "This would be on purpose and would most certainly not count."
That changed the equation entirely. The package under Camille's bed advertised that the absorbent undergarments could hold up to two liters and I have to admit I was a little curious as to whether I could just cut loose and have them absorb an entire bladder.
She gave my hard bladder a gentle rub. "Just pee... I can tell you really need to."
Even though she was right it was surprisingly hard to let go. I put it down to my increasing arousal both from Camille's gentle touch and the general excitement that comes from deliberately wetting yourself. It took me a minute or two of short trickles and false starts before I finally managed to get a good stream going and empty my bladder properly. I closed my eyes to fully enjoy the feeling of peeing lying down without actually getting really wet. When I was finally finished I rolled over to see Camille telling Anne that the balloon really wasn't high enough and if she didn't increase the flow of gas we were in danger of hitting the top of those trees. All thoughts of peeing forgotten, I quickly worked to untie the sandbags as we drifted ever closer to the undermost branches of the looming ghost gums.
I woke up some time later to the early morning cackle of the local kookaburras and the endless drone of cicadas. As has become a habit of mine since I've been dating Camille I put my hand between my legs to check I'd made it through the night dry. If I was entirely honest the practices the she has introduced me to had had a bit of an unfortunate impact on my bladder control. I'd noticed that sometimes when I went to the bathroom I would feel an almost uncontrollable surge of urgency and I'd have to race to get to the toilet in time, fumbling with buttons and zips and only barely getting myself out before my bladder let go. At that stage I hadn't had any actual leaks but there had been one incident about a week earlier that I'd been too embarrassed to even tell Camille about. Even though I knew she'd love it. I gave the padding between my legs a quick squeeze and was horrified to find it much spongier than it usually was. It was at that stage I suddenly remembered my dream.
I'd wet Camille's bed again. For the third time.
Admittedly the bed itself had escaped my ravages this time but I knew that if I couldn't somehow hide what had happened from Camille she would extend my time wearing protection to bed. Maybe even indefinitely!
My plan was to slip out of bed without waking her and race down to the bathroom. I could dispose of my wet problem, clean myself up, and get dressed before Camille ever woke up. Unfortunately Camille is a sleep cuddler and attempting to pry off the arm draped across my chest was enough to stir her awake. The arm pulled me tight like a snare closing.
"What's the hurry sailor? She mumbled sleepily and started to move her hand from my shoulder down to my hip.
"I was just getting up to..." I started to try to distract her. It was useless. Her hand barely paused at my hip before racing to my crotch and squeezing. She paused, then squeezed again.
"You're wet!" She said in unconcealed delight. "I told you that you should wear protection to bed!"
I couldn't really disagree. She was right. Apparently I'd become an, on occasion, bed-wetter. I explained what had happened to Camille.
"I'm a bit envious actually." She admitted. "I've never genuinely wet the bed."
"Really? Never?" I was a bit surprised. I'd always naively assumed everyone had wet the bed at least once or twice.
"Never. I'd really like to one day. Oh well." She suddenly brightened and pulled off my absorbent underwear, leaving me naked in her bed. "At least I've got you to tell me what it feels like to have accidents."
It was suddenly the right time to tell her. A time when she wouldn't tease me and she would just be turned-on by my admission.
"Actually... I had an accident last week. As well."
Her eyes widened in surprise or lust. "Really... you probably didn't take my advice to wear protection in your bed did you?"
"It um... It wasn't in my sleep."
Her eyes widened still further, her pupils dilated almost as I watched. "Really! Do tell." I took the time to help her out of her pajamas before I did.
She guided my hand between her legs. "Tell me." she breathed insistently.
"I was at my computer. Playing a game." I began. She didn't interrupt. "Turn based strategy." I elaborated. as if that meant something to her.
I deliberately took long pauses. Enough time to make her badly want me to keep telling the story. Enough time for her to fantasize every small detail without me having to explain it.
"And I realized I needed to pee. But it wasn't very badly and I was really engrossed in the game so I figured I would just finish the next turn and then go pee." She writhed against my fingers. Impatient and slippery.
"But I guess I forgot. Because the next time I noticed that I had to pee it was really urgent. Like emergency urgent." This time I paused so long that Camille was forced to gasp, "So what did you do?"
"Well I guess in the old days I would have got up and run to the toilet. But... I kind of like holding my pee now. Thanks to you. And I was pretty sure I could hold it until the end of the next turn." She was panting now. I rubbed her a little faster.
"But I was wrong." I said in what I hoped was my sexiest voice.
"You just peed you pants?" She asked. "Sitting there at your desk?"
"Right there. It just happened all of a sudden. One second I was trying to ignore it while I sent an artillery unit over the mountains and the next there was this warm wetness spreading out from my crotch and a pattering down on the carpet. And an absolutely amazing feeling of relief."
Camille moaned louder and suddenly with a abrupt spasm pulled her body away from my hand and made a series of little orgasm noises. After maybe half a minute she opened her eyes and stared into mine. "I want you inside me and I want you to tell me that story again. In exactly the same way."
So I did.
***
Sorry there was no female wetting in this one. It didn't suit the narrative. I promise there will be in Chapter 8. :)
Obviously it's different if you aren't a native English speaker yourself. :) The narrator told us Camille is French, he speculated, obviously incorrectly, that maybe that was why she pees herself sometimes. But lets not focus on that! :p |
Yep yep. That's right!
I rather envy him as well. In some ways...
Chapter 8! Sex tag again, not very much though. Only female wetting in this chapter if that matters to you.
****
"I think I should just pee my pants."
"Sorry... What?" I was pretty sure I heard Camille the first time, even over the manifestly untalented rock music and the inebriated crowd, but it was the sort of thing I wanted to sure about.
"The line for the ladies' is stupid long. I'll think I should just pee my pants."
I immediately looked down at the crotch of her light grey jeans expecting to see glistening wetness any moment. She punched me on the arm.
"Not here I won't! Jesus, dude! There are people I might run into again here. Come on, lets get going."
We had been planing to leave the university bar even before Camille's announcement and had both just got back from the bathrooms. I'd had no trouble elbowing my way to a urinal but clearly Camille hadn't had as much luck on her quest. I rather regretted my empty bladder; it would have been fun for us both to wet ourselves walking back to Camille's house. Even so I was certainly excited by the prospect of seeing Camille pee herself in those jeans.
The walk back to Camille's was a fair hike, probably around thirty minutes. It's actually the exact same walk on which I first saw her wet herself, and first wet myself in front of her. Times had certainly changed in the six months since then. At the time it hadn't seemed particularly sexy at all; now I couldn't wait for the show to begin and my eyes kept darting down to her crotch.
"I'll tell you if I decide to wet myself." She punched me in the arm again.
"If?" I said, disappointed. I'd been assuming seeing Camille in wet pants was a guarantee.
"If." She replied firmly. "I wasn't planning on wetting myself tonight and I'm not particularly excited about peeing in something that will show so clearly. Aside from being seen on the street it's possible Anne is already home and I'd rather she not see me wet. I also don't want to get pee in these boots."
"Oh."
I checked my watch. Almost midnight. Anne did usually come home around that time if she had been out at one of the local pubs and I knew from experience that we would definitely run into Camille's roommate at the worst possible time.
I stopped checking Camille out and tried my best not to act too disappointed. She was walking fairly stiffly so I suspect she had to pee fairly badly but Camille actually had a very strong bladder and an accident, sadly, wasn't at all likely.
Once we got to Camille's house she surprised me again by taking off her boots on the veranda,
"What are you doing?" She didn't normally worry about wearing shoes inside.
She gave me her best come-hither smirk, "I said I didn't want to get pee in these boots."
Debooted, Camille wandered the somewhat overgrown front garden for a spot that was both well lit and not clearly visible from the road.
"I..." she cleared her throat and looked me in the eye, "have decided to wet myself."
She had. And she did. Words can't really do it justice. The long awaited wet stain was just as I imagined it; an exploding patch of darkness that unraveled down her legs in ribbons. A crystal clear contrast with the few swatches of denim that stayed light gray.
We raced inside.
"Bathroom." Camille purred. "Shower first."
It wasn't my order of preference but I demurred to the lady. We showered together. Camille washed her long brown hair. I think she was just trying to tease me by taking as long as possible. I began to feel actual discomfort from my long ignored erection, it hadn't subsided since Camille had peed herself in the garden. I kissed her to try to encourage her to finish up in the shower so we could go to bed. She kissed me back with passion.
Before I knew it the idea of going to bed was superfluous. I had only just slipped inside her when we both jumped at the sound of the doorknob rattling. Luckily someone had remembered to turn the lock. The rattle was followed by an urgent knocking.
"Camille?" Anne's voice was muffled by the bathroom door.
"Yeah?"
"Are you nearly finished?"
"I've got shampoo in my hair," Camille lied.
Anne paused for a moment. "Ok. But if you could hurry, because I'm absolutely busting."
I started to pull away so we could let Anne have the bathroom but Camille held onto me.
"Don't you dare stop." Camille whispered fiercely and dug her fingernails into my back as she pulled me roughly against her.
"But what about Anne?"
"She can hold on." Then Camille giggled, "Or maybe she can't."
I had to push aside the image of Anne not being able to hold on. It's not appropriate to think sexy thoughts about your girlfriend's roommate while you are having sex. We quickly found a good rhythm, even standing in the shower, and soon I wasn't thinking about anything at all.
I was so in the moment I'd actually almost forgotten Anne was still waiting for us when she banged on the door again. Louder than before.
"Camille! Please hurry up. I'm literally about to wet my pants!"
I'm not sure if it was Anne's declaration or just a coincidence but that was that moment I felt Camille orgasm. She buried her face in my neck to keep herself quiet as the rippling from her vaginal muscles pushed me over the edge as well.
As soon as we returned to ourselves Camille pushed me out of the shower while she quickly rinsed herself and shut off the water. We were both respectably wrapped in towels within a minute or two. Camille turned the lock on the bathroom door and swung it open to finally allow her roommate to use the toilet.
Anne was squatting on her heel just outside the bathroom door in a strappy white play-suit. When the door opened she stood up quickly. too quickly. Her hands shot to her crotch but the tiny yellow droplets just trickled through her fingers. Her eyes had that same wide expression of shock that they did the time I wet myself in front of her. A brief patter of urine beat down on the hallway carpet but stopped after half a second. Camille and I both stepped aside to let Anne into the bathroom. She made it all of a step before the patter resumed; harder than before, and for much longer. For the second time in an hour a beautiful woman wet her pants right in front of me.
Her bladder at last empty Anne moved further into the bathroom so that Camille and I could leave. I somehow didn't notice until I stepped into the hallway that I'd been so close to Anne's accident that some of her pee had splashed onto my feet.
"I'll get you some dry clothes." Camille offered in an apologetic tone as Anne firmly closed the door behind us.
I went into Camille's room to wait for her. It was a long time before Camille came in. |
"I think you should just wet your pants."
The idea came to me from out of the blue. Of course I did spend rather a lot of time thinking about Camille wetting herself so that I applied one of my favourite solutions to a novel problem was not really a surprise. To a man whose only tool is a hammer every problem looks like a nail. This particular nail was Anne. She had been snappy and annoyed ever since the night when Camille and I had been having sex in the bathroom and had taken so long that Anne had ended up wetting herself waiting for us to finish. Not that she knew that's why we took so long to let her use the bathroom. That would probably make it worse. Camille and I had been discussing whether there was anything she could say or do to make things better.
"Well I know you'ld like that. But I don't think Anne is into that sort of thing." Camille stuck her tongue out.
"Sure. But she's probably embarrassed more than anything else right? So if you wet yourself as well then you would be even and she wouldn't need to feel embarrassed anymore."
"Mrmm... Maybe. I think she might actually be more furious that I put "washing my hair" above her need to not pee on the floor."
"So... What if you give her the chance to decide if you pee on the floor?"
Camille raised her eyebrows, "I guess that could be worth a try. And it might be fun if nothing else. How do you propose we arrange that?"
My heart-rate, among other things, picked up at the thought of Camille peeing herself, hammer meet nail, "You could just have the same thing happen to you that happened to her? Wait till she has a shower, knock on the door frantically, wait five minutes and if she hasn't let you in you pee."
Camille frowned, "Uninspired. We can definitely do better than that."
We talked about it for a while but Camille wasn't satisfied with any of our ideas. I thought she'd decided not to do it at all.
"I have to pee." Camille said calmly as we stood on the footpath and waited for Anne to pick us up.
"Did you want to go back inside and go?" I certainly didn't want her to, but felt I should at least sound like I was considerate.
She narrowed her eyes at me, "No." The vowel was stretched out in a mixture of confusion and irritation.
"Oh!" I said in realisation, "You're doing the thing! The thing with Anne!"
"That is a thing that I am doing."
My heart started to race a bit at the imminent prospect of Camille flooding her tights. I may have forgotten to talk for a bit. Perhaps longer than is socially appropriate.
"So how are you planning to do it?" I eventually asked.
"There he is." Camille rolled her eyes but continued. "Depends on her choices I guess. But I'm 100% going to wet myself in front of her, one way or another."
Before I could ask her any more questions Anne pulled up in front of us in her car.
We both thanked her multiple times for driving all the way across the city to get us. Particularly since it was pretty late. She assured us that it was fine and she needed a break from studying anyway.
I was on the edge of my seat waiting for the show to begin.
"Hey Anne?" Camille said, "Would you be able to stop at a servo or something. I need to pee."
"Really?" Anne's voice had an edge of annoyance, "Didn't your mother ever tell you to go before you left?"
"I forgot..."
"Well..." Anne considered, "It's pretty late and I have to get up early tomorrow for work. Can't you just wait till we get home?"
"I guess so. But I'd rather stop. How about if we happen to pass one? Just stop real quick?"
"Fine. Real quick." Anne grudgingly conceded.
I wasn't sure where Camille was going with that. If Anne stopped she'd just have to go to the bathroom. Which would quite ruin our plan.
And sure enough, before I knew it, Anne was pulling into the forecourt of a petrol station. "I should really fill up anyway."
"I'll buy the petrol!" Camille volunteered, "Pay you back for picking us up! After I pee real quick."
Anne thanked her and Camille headed inside. I slumped back in disappointment. That was quick.
Anne filled the car and we chatted a little about tea while Camille was inside. After a minute she came back out.
"They wouldn't let me use the toilet." She grumbled as she slid back into the car. "Apparently they lock them after eleven."
"Do you want me to try a different servo?" Anne asked, She seemed more solicitous than before.
Camille chewed her lip, "No. Lets just go home. I can hang on."
"Ok... Just don't pee in my car all right?" Anne joked.
Camille giggled at the thought. But I wondered whether she just might. The car ride had just got interesting again.
My girlfriend was either desperate or doing a good job of faking desperation. She demonstrated the too frequent leg crossing and unnecessary shifting of a girl trying not to make it obvious that she badly needed to pee. But I had the sense that it might have been for Anne's benefit. I also noticed that Anne wasn't taking the quickest route home. Maybe she just wasn't familiar with the roads on this side of the city, or maybe she was trying to extend the drive to Camille's detriment. I had no idea. But she managed to make a half hour drive take more than forty-five minutes.
Camille's hands had slipped into her crotch. From the back seat I didn't have a very good view but I'd never seen Camille desperate enough to do that. If she wasn't acting she had to be getting close to having an actual accident. Could she have misjudged herself enough for that to happen? I lived in hope.
"Are you OK?" Anne asked Camille quietly.
She just shook her head a little. Like she didn't want me to notice. Or because talking might trigger a leak.
"You'll make it. Try counting. Take your mind off it."
Anne was saying all the right things. But I noticed she was driving about ten under the speed limit. And she took another turn that was a couple of minutes slower than going straight for a few more blocks.
Camille had stopped shifting about and was sitting still and small. Head bowed as if in prayer and her hand lodged firmly in her crotch. I was thrilled but also worried that maybe she wasn't acting and had really pushed herself too far. I didn't want her to be in actual pain.
Anne pulled up in front of their house and she and I jumped out of the car. Camille didn't. I don't remember who opened her door but I had to help her out of the car seat. It was dry. I'd half expected that Camille might have already lost control.
She limped slowly across the footpath, through the gate, and started up the path to the front door in tiny steps.
"Have you got her?" Anne asked me, "I'll go open the door."
But the moment the Anne turned away Camille gasped loudly, deliberately loudly, and pushed me away from her.
I knew what was coming and looked straight at her crotch. Even in the half shadows cast by their overgrown garden I could clearly see the sudden wetness explode across, and through, the tight fabric. Camille spread her legs slightly and dropped a few inches into a half crouch. Pee splashed onto the brick pavers and back up onto her shoes.
It seemed to go on for a long time. Eventually she stood back up.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry." Anne gushed as she gave her roommate a careful hug to avoid getting any of the pee on herself.
"I can't believe I just did that." Camille moaned.
"At least you didn't do it in my car." Anne kidded.
I grabbed Camille's outstretched hand and we all went inside. Anne to her room and Camille and I to the bathroom to clean her up.
I shut the door as Camille peeled her tights off.
"Best actress Oscar?" She asked with a grin as I turned around. |
This was a commission by Bachiri over at FurAffinity from a few months back. I'm really pleased with how this turned out and thought some people here might be interested as well.
Contains female Braixen desperation and peeing.
I'm also always looking for writers willing to write this type of content, so if anyone here is open to taking commissions shoot me a message.
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“And this will be your room for the audition.” The crew worker said as she opened the door for me and my trainer, ushering us into a small dressing room. It had a vanity with bright lights, clothing racks in the back that actually had outfits in my size, some makeup that was easy to wash out of fur already laid out on the vanity and plenty of space in the center to practice in! It’s a perfect dressing room for a Braixen.
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” the attendant’s words brought me back to reality, “but it will likely be up to two hours before your audition begins. We have more applicants than expected and you were both late getting here, so you’ve been bumped down to the last on the list.” I nearly went slack-jawed at this, but my bewilderment was replaced by anger before any surprise showed on my face.
“Brai, Braixen braix!” I was about to go off on a tirade about how they couldn’t just bump us down the list because we were just a few… tens of minutes late, but my trainer, Will, stopped me with a response of his own. His voice immediately stopped mine in its tracks, suddenly no longer interested in seeming aggressive.
“Oh, don’t mind Sasha, she’s a bit hot-headed, even by fire-type standards. The waiting won’t be a problem, I’m sure, it’ll just give us more time to practice if anything.” I fumed slightly, hating being called “hot-headed,” but he had enough of a point that I didn’t really care so much. What really got me though was that the human woman was giggling at his words. I rolled my eyes and turned to walk further into the dressing room, approached the vanity and took a seat on the little stool that was already fitted for a Pokemon of my size. I took a good look in the mirror as Will and the crew lady talked some more- about me, probably, but I didn’t really pay much attention at first, I wanted to make sure I looked at least somewhat decent before messing with any makeup. The mirror reflected all of my features flawlessly; my yellow and white fur above the waist, black fur below, red “flares” puffing out of my long and fox-like ears.
I heard another giggle and a chuckle coming from behind me, and looking behind my reflection in the mirror I saw the same woman still chatting with Will. That she was still here talking to my trainer spoke a lot about her job dedication. For some reason, watching them made me feel irritated, and I glared at Will through the mirror. He was nineteen years old, with about five years of Pokemon training under his belt- four of them I had been with him through. His shaggy brown hair made a lot of people think that he was unkempt and messy, but in truth he was a bit of a neat-freak. He wore a black T-shirt with a Pokeball logo on the front, and some baggy denim shorts. As with most Pokemon trainers, his outfit was completed by a belt that held most of his Pokeballs as well as some utility pouches that held things like berries and medicine. He liked travelling light, and didn’t have any sort of backpack.
After another few minutes, the attendant finally left. I didn’t feel bad about the psychic message I sent to Will after the door closed. Needless to say, the fact that I can telepathically speak to my master makes me a bit advanced for a Braixen, the whole Psychic-type thing belonging more to the older Delphox.
“Hitting on girls again, Will?” He turned back to me with a weary sigh, the same one he always gives whenever I ask that question. Or at least he gives that sigh when I ask and it turns out he is in fact hitting on girls. The one time that wasn’t the case, he simply said no and kept walking, so I know that he wasn’t just talking about the weather in this case.
“Are you ever gonna stop asking that, Sasha? I’m grown, I can get any lady that wants me. And of course I know they do, heh.” Unlike me, being limited to speaking the name of my species, Will was able to speak with an endless vocabulary. This would often get him some strange stares when I would talk to him mentally and he conversed with a Braixen that was silent, more often than not. Don’t get me wrong, trainers tend to talk with their Pokemon and get along well enough doing so, but our conversations tend to be very one-sided when it comes to vocalization.
“Don’t you know that being a womanizer is generally considered bad for your image? Or even more importantly, MY image? If I’m going to be a pro dancer, I don’t want it to be outed that my trainer tries to get in bed with every walking pair of breasts.” Okay. I actually kind of regretted saying that. Will crossed his arms at me and shot me an irritated look.
“Whoa, and where exactly did you learn that one?” My eyes shifted around the room, trying not to look him in the face as I tried to think of an excuse while simultaneously trying to shove out the memory of finding a certain magazine stuffed into one of his shoes as we were camping a few months back. Seconds passed as I tried to think of something, but I suppose he gave up as he gave another sigh and lowered his head before speaking again.
“Look, you’re supposed to be on your best behavior today, remember? I know it’s important to you, and I want to support you, but the deal was you keep your cool and I help you prepare and practice. But if you prefer, I can just go to the Gym for a while and let you handle the audition yourself.” I immediately turned away from the mirror and back to him, barking out a pleading “BRAI!”
“N-no! That’s not…! I… sorry, I’ll be good. I really do need your help, I need to be at my best if I’m going to impress Blaze.” Blaze was one of the best performance Pokemon in the region, often appearing in advertising and music videos. As a Blaziken- unoriginal name for one, perhaps- he was able to pull off all the moves and do so with grace and style. And best of all, he’s one of the judges today! Thinking of it made me mentally squeal, THE one and only Blaze watching me perform! Eeeeee! Oh, if I’m ever going to have a chance at impressing him, I need all the help I can get.
Will eventually lowered his arms, not that I’d even noticed that he had crossed them, the silence between that and my last words almost becoming stifling. “Okay, well I suppose we both know that I’m gonna keep helping you either way. Let’s start with some practice. Oh, and before you do, here’s another bottle of tea.” He grabbed a plastic bottle from the behind of his belt, filled with pale-green liquid. Green tea, I’ve been drinking plenty of it in order to keep myself hydrated and help keep my fur shining. Without any hesitation, I leap down onto the floor and quickly swipe the bottle away and open it up before he even has a chance to react. As I started drinking, I felt a twitch just behind my groin, the first signals of a filling bladder. I suppose that made sense, as I’d had at least three of these things today before getting here.
“Thirsty today, huh Sasha?” Will gave me a disapproving look from how quickly I had grabbed the bottle, making me stop drinking and fold my ears back slightly.
“Sorry, I was going to say thank you.” I really was going to do that. I think he picked up on the sincerity, as his demeanor quickly softened. That was one of the many things I lo- liked, about him. He knew when to be strict, and when to be fair.
“Alright then, well, finish up and let’s get started on practice.” I nod and continue to consume the contents of the bottle. Once it was empty, I tossed it into a small, plastic garbage bin that was conveniently placed in the corner of the room next to the door. Will gestured me over to the center of the dressing room as he half-squatted down on the vanity stool in my place, making me giggle slightly at the sight. He raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t say anything. As I took position for my opening sequence, I mentally mapped out what I would be doing for the next couple of hours. A warm-up, practice the beginner steps, a break, practice with the intermediate moves, another break, practice with the advanced set, a bathroom break, makeup and fur grooming, then the big show.
I figured I would save the bathroom break for when there are only one or two auditioners left, as the makeup and grooming only take about ten minutes anyway. And besides that, it seemed like a simple bit of wisdom to assume that the more refreshed you feel going into something, the better the quality you’ll give.
And so I decided not to say anything about it as I pulled the stick out of my tailfluff and took a stance to start practicing in. I started with a basic set, some fancy jumps and twirls, occasionally using the stick as a baton or a small pole, just a few simple and easy moves to get myself limbered up. I was careful to pace myself so that I wouldn’t get worn out, but even so I had to stop myself a few times to keep from throwing too much energy into a hip thrust or leg kick. As it was with every time I dance, I loved every second of it, and it wasn’t all that long in my mind before it was time to take a break. I exhaled as Will pulled another bottle of tea from the back of his belt, and this time I took it from him patiently after he’d extended his hand.
Dancing has always had a calming effect on me. Maybe it has something to do with putting my energy to good, physical use. Maybe it’s the idea of being seen for my grace and poise. Or maybe I just freakin’ love it! Honestly I don’t really know for certain what it is, but every time I finish a dance and give that final flourish, seeing my most supportive fan- Will- applaud me, I always feel like I could take on the world just from that.
As I twisted the cap off from the tea bottle, I felt a small wave crash against my insides, making me squeeze my legs together slightly before it just as suddenly receded. Oh, how much had I been drinking today again? I was surprised at how quickly it went from barely more than a twitch to an annoying nag, but that didn’t stop me from drinking. I had to keep hydrated, after all of the effort I’ve put in so far. And besides that, the more I hold, the better I’ll feel when I get to the bathroom, and the better I’ll perform when I hit the stage immediately after. That still makes sense, right?
I drank the tea over the course of my ten minute break and tossed it into the trash bin before getting back to practice. This time the dances were a bit more advanced, needing better footwork and for Will to put on a bit of music. Classical, of course, more modern things like Pop just have no fluid rhythm. Okay, bad idea to think of the word “fluid” right now. Unlike the last round of practice, I really started to notice the pressure in my abdomen building up. It wasn’t an emergency or anything, but the sensation really got on my nerves after about thirty minutes. I had to wonder if it was affecting my dancing, it’s hard to tell if you’re squirming too much or not when your whole body is already in motion.
After another ten minutes of dancing, working my limbs to the rhythm and keeping my thighs together as tightly as possible when I didn’t need to hold them apart, I made it to the second break. I gave a final flourish and Will clapped as I came to a standstill. He spoke up as I gave a friendly bow to my “audience.”
“That was great, Sasha! You looked a bit tense though, nervous about the audition?” I bit my lip slightly before sending a psychic response.
“Heh, I guess you could say that.” I had to suppress an urge to push a paw through my “skirt” of fur. Will simply flashed me a smile.
“Well don’t worry, you’re gonna knock ‘em all dead with the moves you’ve been showing me, I just know it!” I couldn’t help but feel a warm blush growing upon my face. Praise was always better than punishment of course, but when it came from him… I shook my head a bit, clearing the thoughts from my head and the red from my cheeks.
“Y-yeah I will! Thanks.” His confidence was contagious enough at least. With that, he handed me the last bottle of tea from off his belt and I again started drinking from it. My muscles were tiring out despite my pacing and I had to keep drinking, but this time I only gulped down about half of it before placing the bottle upon the vanity counter. I sat down on the stool for a bit while Will stood next to the door, and relaxed for a few minutes. Well, relax was a relative word, as I still needed to relieve myself quite badly, but I remained resolute in the plan. One more round of practice, run to the bathroom, run back for the final prep work, head out and blow away the judges. I could still hold it, but it would be a mad dash to the ladies’ room, no doubt about that. But… maybe it was better to be safe than sorry?
As I started to have doubts about the plan, I heard a couple of voices coming from outside. One of them was speaking in a Pokemon language, and it sounded like a Gardevoir. It seemed that Will must have heard them too, as he quickly turned his head toward the door. Curious, I scooted myself off the stool and moved over to the door and opened it up a crack, just enough to peek out into the hallway. It was a trainer and, as I suspected, a Gardevoir arguing about something.
“Please? We have to stay at least until my turn! He can wait for half an hour, can’t he?” The Gardevoir sounded almost frantic, apparently trying to convince her trainer not to leave before it was her turn to audition. By the sound of it, she was probably set to go up just before my turn.
“Hey, I know this is important for you, but we can always do this on another day, can’t we?” I almost gasped at the guy’s naivety to the fact that Blaze was only acting as a judge TODAY, before going on a month-long tour through the regions.
“No! Please, just do me a favor and let me do this audition before worrying about anything else and I swear I’ll make it up to you.” The Gardevoir had literally gotten on her knees and started begging, leading her trainer to sigh.
“Alright, fine, but it’s forty-five minutes, tops. And if anything else comes up before that, we leave immediately, audition or no.” The girl got back up and followed him closely.
“Okay, I understand, thank you!” They both walked back up the hallway, quickly leaving my sight. I closed the door again and turned toward Will.
“Huh, I wonder what all that was about?” My Trainer simply shrugged at the question. I half-waddled back over to the stool and took another gulp of tea before setting the bottle back down on the vanity surface.
Once break time was done, I got on with the last stretch of practice. Advanced step dances, ballet, country line, aerial, contemporary, anything that I could think of to use before narrowing it down to what I would be doing in the audition. Of course, the fact that concentrating on my moves helped keep my mind off my aching bladder was a welcome plus, but a fleeting one. It really didn’t take long for my biological needs to take center stage. I tried my best to suppress the urge, but after enough time and fluids, nothing can stop the instinct to keep your legs locked together tight. And that tends to really put a stop to any thoughts of dancing. I kept myself collected for about twenty minutes and I was just on the cusp of stumbling over my ever-tightening thighs when there was a sudden knock on the door. Will turned and stepped up to the door to open it, revealing that same attendant girl who brought us to the room over an hour ago.
“Hey, just wanted to let you both know that your Pokemon’s audition is two slots away, so it should be her turn in about half an hour.” She smiled at Will in a way that made me feel uneasy. Well, MORE uneasy. It took most of my concentration already to keep from shifting my weight everywhere.
“Alright, that’s good to know, thanks for the heads up.” Will returned the smile, but quickly closed the door as the attendant gave a short nod and walked off, probably to make sure that everybody was kept updated on the audition order. I sat down on the stool again, deciding to take my final break a bit early. After nearly losing my composure in that last bout, I figured that it was time to stop taking risks. Once I sat down though, it was too difficult to keep myself from moving and I had to keep my legs held together tightly. I think Will noticed it pretty quickly, so I tried to keep my eyes down by slowly drinking the rest of that tea bottle. It wasn’t until about nine or ten minutes later that he finally said something.
“Hey Sasha, you sure you’re alright? You’ve been tense and fidgety since we got here, it seems like. If you’re too nervous-” A flash of that Gardevoir girl shot through my mind, and the idea of being pulled out of the audition was enough to make me jump up, nervously chirping my species name before responding properly with mental words instead of vocal ones.
“N-no, no that’s alright, I just… I’m just gonna head to the bathroom, that ought to help a bit.” I almost said ‘a lot,’ but I corrected my thoughts. I hopped off of the stool and made a great physical effort to not let my paws fly to my crotch as I headed toward the door. As I opened it, I realized that somebody was standing behind it. The door swung back to reveal that attendant girl again, who had her hand up as though she were about to knock again.
“Oh, hey! Uh, I just wanted to let you both know that the auditioning pair ahead of you just dropped out, meaning that Sasha here has been bumped up. She’ll be going on in five minutes. Sorry for the interruption, and good luck!” And just like that, I was completely frozen. I felt a scream trying to form in my throat, but it died with my failed attempts to breathe. The woman pushed the door closed as Will thanked her from behind me.
“Hey, alright! Five minutes instead of twenty, I guess we’d better get started on your makeup, huh Sasha? Er… Sasha?” Will’s voice snapped me out of my stupor, but instead of focusing on the makeup, I thought about what I was going to do. The only bathroom I saw in this building was in the lobby, which was about two minutes of walking away from this dressing room. Maybe one minute if I sprinted, but my legs were still worn from all the dancing practice and I needed to keep what strength they had left for the audition, plus who knows how much I’d spill if I ran too hard. So, two minutes for walking, one to pee, and two to get back left no time at all. I almost entertained the thought of simply trying to hold it through the audition, but after almost stumbling during that last part of practice, I knew it wasn’t going to be possible to keep my liquids locked in while also giving even a half-decent performance.
“Uh… you know how I said I was gonna go to the bathroom?” I looked up at Will, trying to give a sincere and apologetic smile that probably looked more like the grin of somebody who knew they were completely doomed.
“…Yeeeaaahh…?” His response was long and drawn out, telling me that he probably already knew what I was going to say.
“Well, I don’t think I can hold it through the audition…” I felt like someone who had just dropped an expensive vase.
“You’d better hurry then, the bathroom is in the lobby. Gotta get back here in time.” Will crossed his arms again, wanting to make sure that I didn’t get the idea of peeing on the carpeted floor. As if I would… willingly… let that happen.
“I won’t make it! Help me find something or I’m gonna explode!” I gave a desperate whine as I tried to play up my urgency a little bit. It didn’t take much, as it couldn’t have been more than ten more minutes before I really did hit my limit.
“Agh, how long have you been holding it in for!?” He looked more than a little annoyed, and he raised his voice a little bit. Oh well, this wasn’t the first time that he was mad at me about something.
“Um… since we got here? Heh…” I gave an awkward “I dun goofed” smile as I tried to both get back on his good side and get the lid back on the snaking droplet of dampness that I felt running down the inside of my thigh.
“Great. And you’ve been drinking tea all day, so that probably doesn’t help. Why didn’t you go sooner, huh? No, nevermind, I don’t really want to know.” He closed his eyes for just a second in clear disapproval before opening them again and looking around the room. He only had to look for a few seconds before pointing at something behind me.
“How about that?” I followed his finger and turned to face something that would be just big enough to act as a make-shift toilet. The trash bin in the corner of the dressing room, the same one that I had been tossing my empty tea bottles into. My eyes practically lit up. It was perfect in size and capacity, I could just squat and let rip without any problems. Well, no IMMEDIATE problems anyhow.
“Are you sure I can use it?” I asked Will as I hopped from foot to foot with my paws pressed securely to my groin.
“Yeah, just be quick about it, that lady will be back any minute. And if she comes back before you’re done, I’m going to completely deny that I had any idea you intended to pee in their trash.” I shrugged slightly and quickly approached the bin.
“I don’t think they’ll care, you ARE my Master after all.”
I stepped up to the bin, carefully pulled my paws up to the hem of my “skirt” of fur and pulled it up to the best of my ability. I turned my face away and did a sort of sitting squat over the rim of the plastic container. Once I was certain that my fur wouldn’t be bunched up against the wall or slide down into the trash and into the path of my stream, I relaxed… Well, I tried to at least. I waited a few seconds, but nothing was coming out right away. I tried to push, but all that I got for my trouble was a dribble that only made my rump feel a little bit warmer than it should have. Frustrated at myself that I couldn’t let go at the most critical time, I threw my head back with an annoyed sigh, only to realize exactly why I was stopped up. Will was looking directly at me.
“Uh… Will, could you maybe… turn around or look away for a bit?”
“Huh? Yeah, sorry…” He had a bit of a blush show up on his face, but I doubted that it was anything compared to the burning that I felt on mine. Almost as soon as he turned away, I felt a long dribble come out on its own. It pattered down to the bottom of the bin, quite noisily with all the empty bottles echoing every little impact. That sound quickly grew louder as my muscles relaxed further, and the dribble grew into a torrent. As all the tension in my abdomen eased into blissful relief, I briefly wondered if I would have actually made it if I had the chance to stop to the plan I had made earlier. I shuddered both at the thought and from of a wave of pleasant tingling that came with relieving myself of a full bladder.
The droning sound of the trash bin being filled with my recycled tea filled the room for almost a minute before it started to fade out. I gave a mighty sigh of relief as I turned my eyes upward again, blushing at Will who was still turned around. As the last patters of urine dripped down into the bin, I stood up. There wasn’t really anything to wipe with, so I was kinda forced to air-dry for a bit. Not very comfortable, but nothing was going to be dripping out of my fur at this point. I look away a bit, but noticed that I was able to make eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. I met his gaze for just a second until he turned his head away from mine. I suppose he noticed that I’d noticed.
“… Sorry, I really had to go.” I meekly give my apologies, but he waves it off.
“It’s alright, Sasha. When you gotta go, you gotta go. I’ll just sneak the trash bin to the bathroom and drain it while you’re auditioning. Anyway, only have a couple minutes to groom you and pretty you up.” I smiled and hopped up onto the stool, hoping that my fur was enough to keep it dry.
Will really didn’t have a lot of time to work with, but he managed to get some ribbons into my ear flames and brush most of me down, enough to at least pass as someone who had tried to look presentable. Just in time too, as there was another knock on the door as he finished brushing my skirt, followed by the door being opened by none other than the attendant girl.
“Hey you two! Sasha, you’re up, I’ll lead the way. Hey, what’s that sm-” I immediately hopped off the stool and started yelping the name of my species, basically just to say “Hey, you’re here! Alright, let’s get the show on the road already!” Of course, it all came out sounding like “Braixen” as I ushered her out of the room and to show the way. She gave a nervous chuckle as I shoved past her. Will simply sighed behind me and the door closed behind us. |
Hi all, this is another fictional story about something I wish my wife would do.
As the sun touches the horizon we all meet at the front door for some trick-or-treating on Halloween night. My wife is bundled in several layers to keep warm. I am in jeans with long johns under and a coat. Our five year old daughter is dressed up all cute in her princess costume, energized and super excited. We step out the front door and I lock it behind us as our daughter bounces and gabs about all of the candy she's going to collect. We head off together and first start in our own neighborhood.
"Trick or treat!" she says presenting her princess bag to the middle aged woman dressed as a bumble bee at the door.
"Why aren't you just adorable?!?" the woman exclaims with a smile as she drops a couple pieces of candy into the bag. Our daughter smiles excitedly.
"What do you say?" I chime in from a few feet back as our daughter turns to leave.
"Oh, thank you!" she shouts over her shoulder in her tiny girl voice.
"You're welcome!" the lady pronounces as she shuts the door.
This process continued for nearly an hour and a half before we found ourselves quite far from home and in a slight predicament. By now the sun had gone down and the streets were illuminated by the street lamps placed just slightly too far apart, intermittent porch lights, ominous jack-o-lanterns in creepy decorated displays, and scattered glowing costume props. There was a slight mist in the air and the faint smell of popcorn. As our daughter approached the door of a house, my wife and I stood halfway up the driveway. She leaned to me and muttered in my ear "We should head back, I really need to pee." I responded quite casually with "ok, we'll start working our way that direction."
Fifteen minutes later, my wife was bouncing slightly as we stood in another driveway. She asked me "How long until we get home? I don't know this neighborhood." I know it well. I frequently run or ride my bike around here. Doing some quick mental calculations I respond "Probably about 45 minutes. We're pretty far. Maybe 20 minutes if we don't stop at any more houses." My wife groaned "uhg." As our daughter walked toward us with a large grin and a heavy bag of candy, I instantly realized my opportunity.
As we stood in the next driveway, I made the suggestion: "You should just pee your pants. No one will know and then you won't be aching to hold it."
"No!" she said harshly as she shot me a dagger ridden glance.
"You're wearing like twenty layers of pants and the outermost are waterproof snow pants, nobody will ever know!"
She cocked her head and glared at me "Four layers. I'm only wearing four layers."
I grabbed her butt to emphasize my next point: "Waterproof. And you don't want to make her quit early, look how much fun she's having!"
Our daughter was again walking back toward us with her huge adorable grin holding her princess bag that looked like it might actually contain a princess as this point. We walked to the next house and this time we stood further down the driveway out of the porch light.
"Fine, you win." my wife said as she conceded to my suggestion. "Ahhh....it's so warm....."
I quickly hardened in my pants as I looked down and saw two glistening streams of pee flowing generously from the bottom of her pant legs, over her shoes, and onto the pavement.
"Ahh...relief..." she said. I watched the pool around her feet slowly grow for a couple more seconds, then the streams died. Suddenly my wife nudged me. I looked up and saw our daughter walking down the driveway. We let her take the lead and headed down the sidewalk to the next house. As we walked my wife put her hand on my crotch and felt my hardness. I looked at her, she smiled and winked as she gave a gentle squeeze. We eyes shot past her and I instantly noticed a dark corner behind a bush and under a tree where we could-- my thoughts were interrupted as my wife quickly drew her hand back and I heard the pitter patter of children's footsteps in front of us. Another couple was standing at the base of the driveway we were approaching watching their two kids run up to the door. We stood next to them as our daughter sprinted to catch up.
"Happy halloween!" the man said to us. We smiled feeling quite naughty at the thought of their unknowingness of our deeds.
"Happy halloween!" I replied "How old are you kids?" I asked in an attempt to break from my usual introvert personality. We talked for a minute until our children returned to us, then we all moved on.
Forty minutes passed and just as I had predicted, we were across the street from our neighborhood. Two more houses then we'd be done for the night. My pockets sagged as I had stuffed them with candy so that our daughter could fit more into her bag. As we stood at the base of the driveway, my wife muttered in my ear "I'm peeing again." My eyes jolted to her feet and again I hardened as I watched the beautiful liquid stream from both of her pant legs. "Ahhh...." she sighed in relief. The puddle she left was a bit smaller than last time, but it was no less exciting. My wife nudged me before the streams had died completely and we moved on to the last house.
A few minutes later, we had crossed the street and were entering our own house. We all sat on the couch, my wife still wearing her wet pants, and quickly looked through all of the candy to make sure it was safe. We let our daughter have one piece, then put the rest in the a kitchen cupboard and headed upstairs to get ready for bed.
"Can you help her out of her costume while I go get cleaned up?" my wife asked on the stairs. "Sure" I replied, though I longed to see and feel each layer of those pants she was wearing. I took our daughter into her room and helped her remove her dress. Underneath I discovered she had peed her pants as well at some point during trick-or-treating. Actually, judging from the stains, it looked like she had done it twice, one of them quite recently as her pants were still wet. I decided to not say anything about it and waited in the hall for her to dress herself for bed. She called me in and I tucked her into bed.
In our bedroom I found my wife laying in bed. Slightly disappointed, I headed toward the bathroom to pee my jeans and then change, but then: "Hubby!" she said in a drawn out ,soft and flirtatious tone. Instantly recognizing what was going on, I changed course to the bed and yanked back the covers. She had removed all her shirts revealing her bright red lacy bra sensationally highlighting her large breasts. Her hands were plunged into her four layers of pants and, presumably, her panties. The many layers did a good job of masking her movements, but I could tell she was pleasing herself. My bladder was full and I was trying hard to pee myself, but I was already too hard and couldn't get any out. She looked down at the bulge on the front of my pants, then back into my eyes and winked. I smiled as I received the message and began to strip. Her breathing became heavier with each piece of clothing I removed. I stepped onto the bed and stood over her, straddling with my feet on either side of her legs. She stared at my long hard penis began to squirm as she shifted from simply touching to full masturbation. I bent down and slowly pulled off her first layer of pants. Below was a pair of gray sweatpants, disappointingly dry on the outside. I removed the sweatpants and was greeted warmly with black, pee soaked yoga pants, which I admired intimately. I removed them and found the grand prize: gray yoga pants with hardly a dry spot to be found. My penis throbbed as stared at the beautiful sight of my gorgeous sexy wife masturbating in pee soaked pants. I ran my hands over all of her wet areas. She moaned slightly as she neared climax. I watched intently with an almost overpowering desire to masturbate myself, but I kept my hands stuck to her pee like it was glue. Her body tensed and she fought hard to stifle her loud moaning as she orgasmed. I watched with satisfaction as her bliss began to calm. Quickly she ripped off her pants and panties. That was my cue. I got down between her legs and slid myself inside of her. The wrapped her arms around me and thrust her tongue into my mouth, muffling the moaning sounds she hadn't stopped making. I humped her vigorously. Soon, we were breathing too heavy to kiss. She tightly gripped the sheets next to her and a moment later she was moaning again as she reached a second climax. I kissed her intermittently to try to muffle her sexy sounds as she had now lost the control to stifle them herself. My turn to climax and I filled her with my seed. We laid in our sweat soaked bed, me still inside her, for a couple minutes before finally getting up to shower. We got in the shower together and my bladder finally got its relief: I peed on my wife's legs before we washed ourselves. It was a good night. |
Hey folks! Part 6 of the saga of Parker the Gentleman is here at last.
A bit of desperation in this, but it's kind of a story about being desperate to get desperate, and not quite managing it... This is really more of a secondary story, setting us up for bigger things. I couldn't top Part 5 right away, after all. (Although I do reveal both the extent and the origins of Meagan's superpowers!)
What bigger things, you ask?
What, you think I'm going to spoil my own stories? Let's just say that I finished drafting Part 7 today and I'm thrilled with how it came out, but what I'm really looking forward to is Part 8. The grand climax, if you will...
(Want to read from the beginning? Here ya go!)
The Gentleman's First Encounter (Part 1)
The Gentleman Rocks the Suburbs (Part 2)
The Gentleman: Big Piss on Campus (Part 3)
The Gentleman's Dilemma (Part 4)
The Gentleman: Parker's Present Part 5 and Part 5 and a half
But for today, Part 6: The Trouble With Roommates.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spring Break was a marvel for Parker. Playing Ultimate all week took it out of him and there was no place private enough in the beach house the team had rented for him and Meagan to do anything more than make out, but it was still a really glorious week. And when they got back to campus Saturday, they had the dorm room to themselves and made good use of it: sex three times in two days. But no desperation; just getting used to each other’s bodies. Meagan was as good as her word, too; she taught him how to make her cum, and he did so with delight and increasing skill. The reason they had sex three times in two days was because of how good he’d gotten by Round 2.
“Why have I never dated a boy who listens?” Meagan asked between gasps after their third time. “It’s like night and fuckin’ day.”
“‘Fucking’ is the right word for it.”
“He listens and he’s funny. Admittedly he’s just listening right now, not actually being funny, but hey, he’s got other things on his mind…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But all good things must come to an end, and Spring Break is no exception. Which meant the roommates came back.
Parker had always gotten along just fine with his roommate, Jonathan. Jonathan was quiet, shy, introverted; he talked to Parker and about four other people on campus. He was a bio major and spent long hours in the labs, but when he wasn’t there, he was in the dorm room, watching Trigun and Patlabor 3 and so on. He showed Parker and Meagan Spirited Away in hopes of getting them to watch more anime, but his next proposal was Akira and while Parker was intrigued, Meagan definitely wasn’t.
Or so she said to Jonathan at the time. “Actually, I think he’s really uncomfortable around me,” she said. Meagan had more or less settled on Psych as a major, since (being a sophomore) she needed one by May, and she had a few courses in human behavior under her belt. “He doesn’t have a girlfriend, right? Or a boyfriend?”
“Definitely not a boyfriend.” (Parker’s buddy Alex across the hall was gay, and seemed to know every gay, lesbian, or bi person on campus.) “And… not a girlfriend, either. At least he’s never mentioned one, and we’ve talked a lot since September.”
“Yeah. So unless he’s asexual, he’s probably pretty jealous of me, and not always happy to have me around.”
So Parker’s room was unavailable for sex.
Meagan’s room…
Dacy had zero problem giving them “alone time.” In fact she was excited to do it and occasionally even offered tips on her way out the door. But then, Dacy was generally pretty excited about most things. But Dacy had gone home over Spring Break with her boyfriend and had come back single. If anything this made her even more manic/excitable, but Meagan was looking out for her and didn’t want to sexile the poor girl too often. Dacy said she was fine having Parker stay over with all three of them in the room, but Meagan seemed uneasy with that idea, so this only happened a couple times.
The second time, Parker figured out why: Dacy was not shy. She did not change in front of them, but in the evenings she did run around in just a long thin t-shirt. “Run” was often the right word, and appropriate; she was a extremely dedicated cross-country runner. Although it was the off-season for her just then, she still ran most every day, and as soon as she came back she would strip off her outerwear and do her stretching in just her sports bra. She wore her sports bras quite a lot, actually, and Parker was grateful, because otherwise the bouncing was considerable. He knew this all too well because of that t-shirt. It was just long enough to cover her but, but her dramatic boobs were loose underneath it; to make up for squeezing them down with the sports bra much of most every day, Dacy never wore a bra any other time. Parker had to keep himself from staring at them when they bounced, or when Dacy’s nipples seemed ready to cut right through the cotton fabric.
So Meagan and Parker spent as much time together as they could outside the dorm room, and had sex when Dacy stepped out to a party or a long-ish run. Which was great—much better than the alternative of having no sex at all—but Parker wanted Meagan to hold it again.
“Sure, if we can find a good time,” she said in answer to his request. “I’ve got to work, though, and classes are definitely picking up, so I don’t think I can do it during the week. But I think Dacy’s going to a party on Friday.”
And Dacy did exactly that, leaving in a whirl of short skirts, shouting fairly explicit advice over her shoulder as she went, and they had the room to themselves for at least a few hours before she came back. What Meagan had forgotten to factor in was the strength of her bladder. She’d been drinking water but was nowhere near desperate after an hour, and was worried she still wouldn’t be close by the time Dacy came home. So they had sex without any desperation play, and while Meagan whispered “I need to pee” into Parker’s ear at a key moment, she barely reacted when he put a little pressure on her belly. And of course after sex she had to go pee (in the bathroom) right away.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Meagan said as they lay in bed together afterward. “Next time I’ll start drinking earlier.” She paused. “Someday we should do some tests to see what kind of drinks make me need to pee the most.”
“Yes, we absolutely need to do that,” Parker said, deadpan. “For science.”
Then Meagan said “Oh!” and sat upright in bed. Since she was naked under the sheet, this was an exciting move for Parker, who gazed at her breasts until she started talking again.
“I’m an idiot,” she said. “Back-Campus!”
The college owned on the order of a thousand acres, and most of them were undeveloped woods—some of the last woods in the area, apparently. It was a maze of criss-crossing trails, very confusing until you’d spent a lot of time back there. Parker roamed about pretty often but hadn’t discovered all its secrets. Meagan knew a few more but hadn’t had time to take him out there.
“We could spend hours out there and never run into anyone,” Meagan said. “And I don’t mind peeing outside, if we take some TP with us. We’ll take a lunch—and water bottles, definitely water bottles—and spend the day out there. I’ll get as desperate as you want.”
“Great!” Parker said. “Tomorrow?”
“Sure—oh wait, no, I can’t. I’ve got to meet with my project team at 2, I forgot.”
“Sunday, then?”
“Mmm, I blocked out Sunday for my research paper.” She saw the disappointment in his eyes. “Next week for sure, though.”
So Parker went through the next week of classes without really giving any of them his undivided attention. At least 10% of his mind was already in the Back-Campus woods with Meagan, at all times. Since they would be spending the next day together, Parker spent Friday night in his own bed.
When he woke up Saturday morning it was raining steadily. He geared up in his jacket, found an umbrella, and trooped over to Meagan’s room, but she was reluctant to go. “We’ll get soaked,” she said.
“I don’t mind,” Parker said, quietly.
She shook her head. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Sunday morning it was still pouring rain, but Meagan took one look at Parker’s face as he stood in the door of her dorm room, dripping and disappointed, and got her “Fuck this” look on her face. Dacy was home, so Meagan pulled Parker close and whispered to him, “We can’t go out today either. But stick around. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
He sat down on the bed with her, not exactly sure what she meant—and as soon as she sat down beside him, she grabbed her Nalgene water bottle and chugged about half of it. She gave him a mischievous look from her emerald eyes, jerked her head toward Dacy (who wasn’t paying attention) and put her finger to her lips.
After a few minutes of doing nothing while the girls worked, Parker went back to his dorm, grabbed his laptop, and brought it back over to Meagan’s room. Since Dacy was writing a paper on her desktop and didn’t need the internet, Parker could use her ethernet cable (in that pre-wifi world), which just barely stretched to Meagan’s bed. Meagan shifted position so they could sit back to back or side by side. And then the true genius of Parker’s plan came into play: he signed on to IM and showed this to Meagan, who quickly did the same on her ancient and creaky laptop.
Ill keep drinking water
yeah, u should drink that whole bottle
and then fill it up again and drink it again.
Yah, that will make me need to go pretty bad!
…in a few hours
i can wait
im a patient man
:-P
not as patient as I can be
not as patient as I will be
not as patient as Ill *have* to be with all that water in me
u r awesome
dude, type the whole fuckin words
you just said you were patient
this from the girl who just typed “fuckin”
that’s how I pronounce it!
Meagan being Meagan, it really did take her hours to get at all desperate. Parker had no idea how much she could hold, but it seemed to him that her real superpower was in her steel pelvic muscles (which made quite a lot of things quite a lot of fun). She could just lock down every muscle in her body and hold on for ages.
Parker had arrived around 10. Breakfast wasn’t served in the cafeteria on weekends (lack of demand, apparently), but lunch started at 11:30, so off they went. Meagan didn’t show a single sign of desperation through the whole meal, but when they got back at 12:15, her first IM to him was
OK, starting to feel it now.
...and then she still didn’t show any sign of it. Honestly, Parker would have gotten bored, except he had plenty of work to do on his laptop and simply zoned out—until Meagan shifted position or moved her legs, when he would be momentarily riveted again. But it wasn’t until 2 that he was really impressed, when she said aloud, “I’m tired of sitting. Wanna go to the gym and work out a little?”
Of course he did. He ran back to his own room for workout gear, mind thrilling to the possibilities. She hadn’t peed for the four hours he’d been with her, and by now she’d polished off a full Nalgene bottle and a glass of orange juice at breakfast. Would she be able to handle squats, leg presses, treadmills?
The short answer was yes. Her pelvic muscles must have been getting just as much of a workout as the rest of her, but she didn’t even seem uncomfortable—no leg-crossing, no foot-tapping. Her form on every lift was impeccable, though, and he remembered the signs from that eventful drive: she was totally in control, but definitely had to fight for it. The impish sparkle in her eyes and the occasional kiss on his cheek were clues, too.
On the way back from the gym (it was now around 3pm; the rain was still coming down) Meagan whispered to him, “So how’d you like that?”
“Mm, mixed feelings.”
“Oh?”
“Well, you know I like watching you squirm. And you haven’t, not once. But on the other hand, the fact that you haven’t yet is really impressive.”
“Thanks. I gotta say the squats were pretty darn hard. But I just clamp down. You wanna know my secret?”
“What?”
“I do Kegel exercises in boring lectures.”
By now she’d gone close to six hours without peeing, and with pretty continuous (if low-level) water-drinking. She’d gone much longer the night of Parker’s party, and with beer involved, too, but she’d put away much more water then. So maybe it wasn’t surprising that sometime after they got back from the gym, Meagan sent him an IM:
mmkay I really gotta go now.
need just went up like 3 notches all of a sudden
how long do u think u can go?
wait, i mean
probably another hour?
i was hoping for 2 hrs
and hoping that dacy will go to dinner first
and leave us a little time
2 hours?
eeee
Ill try
but god do I need to go
And indeed, she was changing position a lot more often. Hiding it from Dacy was the real challenge now, and the rain wasn’t helping at all.
Parker was transfixed. Now he had something to hide from Dacy, too, although having a computer on his lap helped with that. He IM’d Meagan constantly. Her responses were increasingly a little curt, even on IM. She did make it past an hour, although Parker could feel how tense her whole body was.
Finally Meagan sent this:
I can last another 5 minutes
no more
then I need to go
counting down
starting now
Parker sighed inwardly. She was absolutely near her limit and probably wasn’t even enjoying it any more. He almost nodded to her, but instead sent this:
ok i understand
go when you need to
oh believe me I NEED TO GO
NOW NOW NOW
Parker typed in, “ok just go now, don’t wait any more”—but before he could send it, Dacy stood up, stretched, and said, “I wanna swing by the library before I go to dinner. Anyone want to come with me?”
“Nah, we’ll catch up with you in the cafeteria,” Meagan said, no strain at all in her voice.
But as soon as Dacy closed the door behind her, Meagan jammed a hand down between her legs and crossed those legs over it. “Time for a quickie!” she said cheerfully.
“You’re not mad?”
“No, just desperate. And on the clock. Whatever we do, we need to do it fast.”
“Can we have sex?”
Meagan squeezed her eyes shut as tight as her legs for a second. “I really doubt it,” she said. “I’m too dang full and I’m nowhere near ready. And if you took off my clothes I’ll just have to put them back on again to go to the bathroom.” She thought fast. “Want a blow job?”
“Um, yes?”
She had him lie back, unzipped his pants, and bent over him. He grabbed her boobs through her clothes, hanging conveniently close as they were, and she made small encouraging noises about this as she began to suck him off.
This wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind. He’d envisioned her naked again, like the night of his party. He’d really been looking forward to try to have sex with her while she was holding for him. And this felt… awkward, rushed. On the other hand, she was squeezing her legs tight around her hand as she fought to bring him off and keep herself dry, and if he wanted to see her naked, he could just remember that night…
She swallowed, wiped her mouth off, leaned up to kiss him, and said, “I will totally ask you if it was good for you too in a minute, but I just felt a drop in my pants, so I am out of time.”
The door banged as she fled to the bathroom. He re-buttoned his pants and went off to his own bathroom. He beat her back by a couple minutes.
“Whew!” Meagan said. “That was… interesting. I’m not sure I want to do it that way again, though.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Parker said. “It felt a little off.”
“Mmhm. We’ll do it differently next time. But right now, we have the room to ourselves. And since I went down on you, it would only be fair…”
“Sure!” he said. He hadn’t enjoyed going down on her the first time, but he’d steeled himself to do it again. After all, it was less of a hassle than holding your pee until you were about to pop, and if she was willing to do that, he could give her oral. But now that he was getting better at it, he was starting to enjoy it more. They both were, for that matter.
So normal sex continued—stolen moments here and there, when Dacy was out running or partying or Jonathan had just left to the lab and likely wasn’t back for a few hours, and when neither of them had class or schoolwork or Meagan was at her job. Between all those things, they got pretty good about getting each other off pretty quickly. But it wasn’t ideal, and by the middle of April, with the end of the school year looming, they were both getting a little bored.
~~~~~~~
One April afternoon, looking forward to the (non-sexual) plans they had for that afternoon (well, mostly non-sexual, and certainly non-holding), Parker arrived at the girls’ dorm and knocked. Dacy answered, once again clad in just her sports bra and running shorts. Her cleavage was nothing short of magnificent.
“Oh!” she said. “I think she got held up. I saw her in Miller Hall,” she added, “talking to her prof after class.”
“Can I wait for her?”
“Sure! Come on in—I just really need to pee, I’ll be back in a second.” And she gave a cute little butt-bob to illustrate.
“So I see,” Parker said, as that image burned itself into his brain and merged with his still-strong memory of glimpsing her changing clothes.
“I haven’t been able to go since before lunch!” she said, almost squeaking, and dodged around him and ran to the bathroom.
Parker carefully seated himself on Meagan’s bed, trying to distract himself from the sexiness of what he’d just seen with memories of what he and Meagan had been up to in that bed the week before. But this backfired a bit, since by the time Dacy returned, he was a little worked up. He scooted all the way onto the bed so he could oh-so-casually cross his legs.
“Whew, that feels better,” Dacy said. “Don’t you just hate it when you really really really have to go?”
“Yeah, it’s a hassle,” Parker said, wondering how he could get her off this line of conversation.
“Did I ever tell you about what happened to me last year?” she said. “It was the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened.”
“No, what was it?” Parker said, half on autopilot, half-hoping that this would be a complete non-sequitur and she was about to tell him a story about noodles or something.
“So I was about to go for a run. But I’d just gotten back from class, like today, and I had to pee...”
To Be Continued… |
I have an interesting story to share with you. It's about a woman I've gotten to know pretty well at work. Let's call her Janet. We live in the same speck on the map so now we're commuting together. Recently we started dating.
Last Tuesday began like a usual weekday except that our routine was bumped up an hour. Road work had just started that was going to screw up traffic and I wasn't exactly sure how it was going to play out so I wanted to give myself a lot of extra time. I ended up waiting longer than usual by Janet's house because she was finding it a little difficult to get ready at that hour.
Finally she came running down the front steps as fast as her high heels could carry her. She put her things in the back, put her blazer on the hook, hopped in the passenger seat, and gave me a kiss. So far it was a pretty normal morning.
It got interesting when the marked detour led to a place where traffic was crawling like molasses. Janet commented that hadn't used the bathroom before leaving the house because she was running late and now she was regretted it. I noticed her squirming uncomfortably in her seat. As you know I have a certain fondness for the ways women move and talk when they're desperate to empty their bladders. I a point to get some good looks at her body language without staring rudely.
After some time in the slow lane Janet put pressure on me to find a better route. I could tell by the way her legs twitched that I wasn't the only one under pressure. I didn't want to let her down so I got bold and aggressive and pretty soon I got lost. Janet turned on the navigator app and tried to direct me but something went wrong and we got really far out of our way.
"Stop at the next gas station you find," she eventually told me.
"We're on the right track now," I assured her.
"Not for directions. For restrooms." I loved the quick and breathy way she said it. She was getting blatantly desperate. During the next right turn I stole a glance at her legs. They were jiggling much worse than before. Her feet were practically dancing.
Before too long there was a gas station coming up. I signalled a turn but Janet had another idea.
"Not this place! It's disgusting."
"You sure you don't want to use it anyway?"
"I'm a grown woman," she snapped. "I can make my own restroom choices."
I apologized for second-guessing her and we drove past the station.
The next place that was sure to have public restrooms was the Walmart at the outskirts of the city. It was quite a ways down the road. In that time Janet fiddled nervously with her phone. Her legs were crossed tightly by this time but there was still noticeable twitching. Her hands were a little twitchy too and she dropped the phone between our seats.
"Damn! I can't do anything right today. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier by the way. I'm really not having a good day." She tried to retrieve the phone but ended up twisted into a position that must've been awfully uncomfortable. She quickly sat back up but not before making a squeak that sounded very feminine and very desperate. It was music to my ears.
"You like this don't you?" she asked in that sort of annoyed tone a mother uses when her kid is misbehaving.
"No!" I insisted. "I'm having a bad day too. I'm stressed and I got us lost and I'm making your day worse."
"I'm not mad. I'd just like to know if you enjoy what you're seeing. I think you know what I mean."
I tried to answer in a way that didn't sound inappropriate. "You mean having to hold it? Of course I don't want you be miserable and embarrassed like that."
"But since it's happening you'd like to make the most of it wouldn't you?"
"What?" I asked. I was getting very nervous about what I was going to have to tell her and how she was going to react.
"It's all right to admit it," she said. Her voice wasn't annoyed anymore but it didn't sound friendly either. "There are a lot of men who like to watch women pee."
My heart was racing. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything.
"There are even women who like to be watched," she added. Her voice was quieter now and her tone had changed too. I felt like this was becoming a very intimate conversation.
I was uneasy, nervous, and dry-mouthed but I managed to choke out a question. "Do you?"
"I won't know until it happens," she replied coyly.
When my car entered the vast parking lot of the Walmart Janet changed our plans again.
"I'm not going to make it," she announced quickly and anxiously. "Just park out here and I'll go between the cars."
I pulled into a spot between some big empty trucks. She'd already undone her seatbelt and was waiting for the car to stop with bated breath and crossed legs.
"Hurry or you'll miss the show," she whispered with a flicker of a smile right before she hopped out the door.
She didn't have to tell me twice. I was out the door and around the back of the car by the time Janet's skirt was hiked up.
Watch my prose get all flowery now that I get to describe my first gander at a woman emptying her bladder.
There in the valley formed by two columns of parked vehicles the lovely lady relieved herself. Under the white dress shirt I could see her bosom rapidly rising and falling from the activity and desperation that had led to this moment. She crouched on the asphalt with her knees bent all the way, her ankles propped up high by her heels, and her legs wide open at the front. She looked like a lovely butterfly.
She closed her eyes and let it flow. There hadn't been time to slide her panties down her legs. The pure white fabric was blemished by an expanding spot of dark yellow. As the underwear became saturated the yellow liquid collected at the bottom and formed a line falling straight down. Sounds of breathing were joined with sounds of drizzling. The stream widened to a golden waterfall that glistened in the morning sunlight. The tentative drizzling sound became a splattering rush accompanied by a trickling flow. The dark stain on the asphalt became a yellow puddle wide enough that it enveloped the heels of her shoes and pressed on toward the toes.
She opened her eyes about the time her flow ended but it took a few moments to calm herself. Her wet panties dripped periodically as her breathing slowly returned to normal. She then stood up and adjusted her skirt. She'd wet herself so artfully it had left no outward evidence on her person.
So that was it. No more desperation. No more talking about the subject. We got into the car and were off to the races.
I still don't know if she somehow changed into clean panties, decided to go naked under her knee-length skirt, or just spent the whole day in urine-soaked underwear. We're not at a point in our relationship where I feel right asking. |
Because some platforms for good pee/desperation (stories) were eliminated or inactive in the last years I think it is important to preserve such content on other sides too.
One of the hottest stories I have in my collection is the following, posted as a true experience, which I think it is.
But because it is not my story and I wasn’t there, I post this under the fiction ones.
If the real author of this fantastic sighting is here too, he can confirm the story (and I hope he isn't angry with me for share his story here.)
The story is about pee desperation, embarrassment and wetting.
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The doors slid open and we made our way into the lift.
"What floor?" the older man asked.
"14 please" I replied
"Number 10" said the young girl.
The man pressed the buttons on the panel to the side of the door, and within a few seconds the doors closed, and the lift began to ascend.
Suddenly, we heard what sounding like a loud grinding noise, and for a few seconds were plunged into complete darkness as the lift came to an abrupt halt. Immediately the dim glow of the emergency light flickered on and we realised that the lift had become stuck between floors.
"Oh great!" said the young guy sounding really annoyed "That's all we need"
"Don't worry son", said the older man, "This happens quite frequently around here, and they usually get us out within a few minutes"
The man opened a small compartment in the wall of the lift, and pressed the button marked emergency intercom.
After a few seconds a loud crackle came from the speaker,
"Hello building security" said a rather cheerful sounding voice on the other end.
"Hello there" said the old man "For some reason the lift has stopped moving, and we appear to have become trapped between floors"
" Ok" said the voice on the other end, "There's no need to panic you're all perfectly safe. We'll have an engineer over within the next fifteen minutes to get you out".
For the next twenty minutes or so everyone just stood waiting quietly for the lift to start moving again.
During this time I had noticed that the young girl seemed to have become quite nervous about the situation, and at the time I had put this down to the fact that she may indeed suffer from Claustrophobia.
Su ddenly a loud buzz came from the speaker, which made everyone jump slightly.
"Jesus Christ, What a fright" said the young girl, as the older man reached over and pressed the button on the intercom".
"Hello" he said,
"Hello there", said the same voice we had spoken to earlier.
"Are you ok in there?"
"Yes" said the old man.
"Good, well we've identified the reason for you becoming stuck. It seems that the power has been cut to the whole building, and the emergency generators, which are supposed to be a backup for the lifts have failed to come on"
"We're not exactly sure at the moment as to the reason why, but I'll try to find out and buzz you back in a few minutes".
1 0 minutes had passed and in that time I'd twice heard the young girl ask the guy she was with how long he thought it would be before someone would be able to get them out.
"It's ok love", said the older man realising that the young girl was starting to look worried, "This happens all the time, we're perfectly safe it's just a case of waiting it out"
Just then another buzz came from the speaker, and the old man once again pressed the button to speak to the voice on the other end.
"Hello", said the voice from the speaker,
"Well we've finally managed to find out the reason for the power cut, and I'm afraid it's going to take us a bit longer than at first thought to get you out".
"It appears that some construction workers who are digging up the road at the rear of the building, have managed to sever one of the main electricity supply cables serving this block. We've been in touch with the electricity company, and they're having to send someone out to assess the damage before they can safely restore the power".
"Do you have any idea how long that will take?" asked the old man.
"I know this isn't what you want to here", replied the voice from the speaker, "But as this is a Sunday they don't have the same amount of staff working at the weekend, and therefore I'm afraid it could take around an hour before they get here"
Immediately upon hearing this the young girl turned to the guy with her and announced anxiously,
"Oh Christ Craig, It had better not be an hour before they get us out, I'm needing to go to the loo"
At this point in the story I feel I must point out to you, that hearing this girl say those words was like music to my ears.
Here I was stuck in a lift in the presence of a very attractive young girl who had just admitted openly that she had to pee, and we had only minutes before received the news that it was probably going to be at least an hour before they would be able to get us out.
I glanced over and could see that Lisa was watching me closely.
With her knowing of my interest in such things I figured out that she must have guessed by the slight smile on my face, that I wasn't exactly upset by the news that we were going to stuck here for a while longer.
Over the next 15 minutes the young girl began to chat to Lisa, and introduced herself as Debbie. She had commented to Lisa that she hadn't noticed us around the building before, and asked if we had just moved there. Lisa explained to her that her sister Claire had bought one of the flats in the building a few weeks back, and we were just over visiting for the day.
Debbie was leaning against the back wall of the lift, and ever so often I had noticed that occasionally she would bend forward ever so slightly and at the same time press her knees tightly together. My mind was working overtime, and for the past ten minutes all I had been thinking about was the fact that this young girl needed to pee.
My penis was becoming hard from the thought of her standing there holding it, and although I had a desire to squeeze myself, I was conscious of the fact that Lisa was standing less than two feet from me, and I was trying my best to remain as cool as possible.
Debbie continued to talk to Lisa, and was telling her that Craig and her had gotten married a year earlier, and had lived in the building since then.
Another 30 minutes had passed and by this time Debbie seemed to have gone from at first standing with her knees pressed tightly together, to every so often shifting from one foot to the other, and occasionally crossing one leg over the other.
"God I wished I'd gone to the loo before we left the pub", Debbie turned and said to Lisa out of the blue, in a frustrated sounding tone.
"Craig and I went down for some lunch earlier, and ended up staying a while longer so he could watch the football", she continued.
" The pub itself is respectable enough, although the state of ladies room sometimes leaves a lot to be desired, so I just decided to hang on till we got home" Debbie said, sounding like she was starting to regret her decision.
"I'm sure they'll have us out in no time", Lisa said sympathetically.
I remember thinking at that precise moment that I wasn't really bothered as to how long we were going to be stuck for. Debbie had just casually informed us that she and Craig had spent the previous couple of hours drinking in the local pub, and I wondered just how long it would take before her need to pee became much more urgent.
In the meantime I had struck up a conversation with the young lad, and was talking with him about life in general, and about what it was like living in that part of the city. While at the same time keeping one eye on Debbie without trying to make it too obvious to Lisa I was watching her.
Craig, the young girl's husband seemed to be genuinely uninterested in the fact that it was fast approaching an hour since Debbie had announced that she needed to pee, and I was really surprised that not once in the last hour had he asked her if she was ok.
For the last 15 minutes, I had been watching Debbie more closely and she definitely looked as though she was becoming much more uncomfortable from holding in the pee. She was once again leaning against the back wall of the lift, with her knees pressed together, and every so often would grimace slightly.
To be honest at this particular moment I wanted more than anything else, to ask Debbie if she was feeling ok. I knew however that if I did, Lisa would guess the reason for me asking, and certainly wouldn't be too pleased with me, so I decided on second thoughts I'd better not.
Debbie glanced at her watch and turned to speak to the older man standing near the door.
"This is bloody ridiculous," she said, sounding well pissed off with the situation.
"Th at's nearly an hour we've been stuck in here, can you please find out if they're any closer to getting us out".
The old man once again pressed the button on the intercom, and a second or two later a voice on the other end answered.
"Hello again" said, the old man "Are you any closer to getting us out of this dam lift?" he asked firmly.
"Unfort unately Sir we're still awaiting the engineer's to arrive from the Electricity Company, and there's absolutely nothing we can do until they get here ".
"We ll can you please try and chase them up" replied the old man "There's people in here needing to use a toilet!"
"I can sympathize with your situation, and promise we'll have you out as soon as we can, but I'm afraid you're going to have to bear with us for a little while longer".
"I'm sorry love", said the older man turning to Debbie, and shrugging his shoulders.
Debbi e sighed loudly, and sort of slumped back against the wall, of the lift while making a comment about people these days not giving a dam.
She had now placed one hand on top of the other, and was standing with both hands resting on the lower part of her tummy. I knew from her facial expressions that she was reaching the point where as well as feeling full, your bladder starts to hurt from the effort of continually forcing the pee to stay in.
"Are you're ok" Lisa asked Debbie quietly.
Debbie just nodded her head and curled up her bottom lip, as if trying to convince herself that she was.
At this point in the proceedings, I was also starting to feel much more uncomfortable, albeit for a different reason than Debbie. I was fast reaching a heightened state of sexual arousal from watching her standing squirming in the corner of the lift, and my penis was pressing hard against the front of my briefs.
For a few minutes I took a break from continually watching her, and stood there looking slowly around the floor of the lift. The lift itself was only about eight feet square and the thought suddenly crossed my mind that if Debbie did reach the point where she started to lose control. In such a confined space there was going to be no getting away from it.
For the next 10 minutes everyone stood around quietly without making much in the way of conversation.
For the last while the main focus of attention, and the topic of conversation had centred round Debbie complaining that she was desperate for the toilet, and I wondered if the other individuals in the lift were starting to find the situation a little embarrassing.
I however wasn't the least bit embarrassed by it all. Debbie was wearing a pale blue two-piece suit with a skirt that finished about two inches above the knee, and to be honest I was having extreme difficulty in resisting the urge to squeeze myself.
She seemed now to be struggling to stand still in the same position for more than a few minutes, and it was blatantly obvious that she was absolutely bursting to pee.
"For fuck sake" said Debbie suddenly out of the blue, sounding as though she had just about had enough of things.
"This is getting beyond the joke, when are they going to get us the fuck out of here?"
Although Debbie had already earlier expressed her annoyance at finding herself in this situation, up until now she had managed to maintain her cool. I began wondering if her sudden change in mood was a sign that she was starting to leak small amounts of pee into her knickers.
" Hey Debbie!" Craig, exclaimed, "calm down, there's no point in taking you're frustration out on other people"
"Chri st Craig, if we'd have left the pub when I'd suggested, instead of staying to watch some silly football match, then we wouldn't be in this fucking stupid situation", Debbie said angrily as if now blaming him for what had happened.
"Look", said Craig, " I certainly didn't force you to continue drinking so don't get angry with me about it. Christ you're nineteen, not nine, at least try for once and act your age"
"Fuck off Craig!" Debbie shouted back, "I just wish it was you who had to go, and then we'd see just how fucking calm you'd be about it."
By now it was becoming clear that Debbie was starting to reach the point where you begin to become seriously concerned at your ability to continue holding it. I thought back to the times in the past where I'd been in similar situations, and remembered that when first needing to go, I'd started out fairly confident that I'd be able to hold it in until I got to a toilet. As time passed and the level of discomfort continued to increase substantially, then this belief slowly turned into a realisation that very soon I just might actually start wetting myself.
The minutes ticked slowly by, and Debbie was standing with her eyes closed and was nervously biting on her lower lip, and looked to be in severe discomfort I genuinely thought that she was on the verge of tears.
I had noticed that she had discreetly moved one hand down from resting on her tummy, and although not openly holding herself, every once in a while she would occasionally gently press on the front of her skirt causing it to ride up and expose even more of her thighs.
She looked to be really suffering, and although I was enjoying watching her desperation, part of me did feel really guilty at deriving pleasure from seeing her in this predicament.
For the next few minutes Debbie stood there and very slowly the tears started to run down her cheeks.
Lisa reached into her handbag and turned to offer her a tissue,
"I'm really sorry", Debbie gasped turning to talk to Lisa with a look of panic on her face, "I just can't take this much longer, my tummy feels like its on fire"
"Oh God", continued Debbie sounding really short of breath, I honestly feel as if I'm going to wet myself any minute".
No more than fve minutes had passed since her making that statement, and in the quietness of the lift I suddenly heard what sounded like raindrops splashing onto the floor of the lift.
I quickly glanced down at the floor underneath where Debbie was standing and noticed a few droplets of pee had begun to appear on the metal floor of the lift.
My eyes were out on stalks. Debbie had one hand jammed hard against the front of her skirt, and was sucking in deep breaths of air though her teeth.
I knew that her actions were the last steps in a frantic attempt to stop any more pee from escaping.
It was obvious that she was fast losing the battle, and for the next few minutes Debbie stood there frozen to the spot while the pee continued to run down the inside of her legs.
My penis was rock hard, and my pulse was racing from watching this girl standing in front of me slowly wetting her knickers. I honestly felt as though I was going to start to cum in my pants any second.
I hadn't seen a girl wet herself for years and I couldn't believe the effect it was having on me.
Debbie must have stood there peeing for well over a minute, with the pee flowing in small rivers across the floor of the lift and in the small space I could smell its warm erotic odor.
Debbie was extremely upset by what was happening and was now standing in the corner of the lift rubbing her eyes and sobbing quietly.
Craig was doing his best to try and console Debbie, while Lisa was telling her that it couldn't be helped, and it wasn't the end of the world.
It took at least another forty minutes before the power was restored and we were able to get free from the lift.
After spending a few hours over at Claire and John's house, Lisa and me made our way home. Later that night Lisa had said to me that she had felt really sorry for the girl in the lift, and added that she would have died of embarrassment if anything like that had ever happened to her.
I had personally found the sight of Debbie desperate to pee, and eventually wetting herself to be one of the most erotic things I've ever had the chance to witness. |
Thanks for your statements! Here is another one for you to enjoy.
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I'll go back to something that happened to me in high school.
Four friends and I went to see a movie. Now I always hate missing a part of a movie so when I'm at the theatre I never get up no matter how bad I gotta go. The friends I went with were Kristen, Sara, and her bf. Kristen and Sara were tiny. Kristen played soccer and track so she was in amazing shape, the cutest little round bum and she always wore the tightest jeans whenever she was out. The strange thing was I never noticed a panty line on her, when I finally asked her about this (cause I was sick of guys making fun of me for that) she told me that she just got panties that were a size too small for her and she pulled them up so that the butt part went in between her bum. This was her wording not mine. She said she liked the feeling of something pressing against her butt hole. (Something that I wondered about when I got older) From the time I knew her in 5th grade she had big boobs for her age. By the time she was in High School she was a c cup. Something I got more jealous about as the years went on. Sara was remarkably similar to Kristen just a little thinner. She was a little shorter but unbelievably even bustier (is that even a word) she was a D cup. And her boyfriend was there, who neither Kristen nor me liked, so many times we told Sara to dump him, incredibly they were still dating in college. Wow, now that I've gone off on a total rant about who was there let me get to the part that everyone wants to hear.
We were eating popcorn and had a big soda each...stupidly I chugged through mine while everyone else was careful about how much they drank. By the end of the movie I had to go quite badly, enough to make me hesitate in getting up. When I did, I got up slowly so that my bladder could adjust to the new pressure from my skirt and panties. When I was sitting I had had my fingers holding the waist of my skirt and panties away from me. But I wasn't too worried because I knew even though it felt like I'd wet myself in a few minutes, I was only 20 feet from the bathroom and there weren't many people there so there'd be no line. However as we walked past the bathroom I noticed no one was stopping. At the time I wouldn't even hint I had to go, I was just hoping someone else would go. But they didn't, and I didn't want to hold every one up so after a longing look at the bathroom and a quick press on my crotch I kept walking with everyone else. We all piled into Sara's mom's car and took off for her house. I was pressed in the back with Sara and her bf. At least I was able to hold myself without anyone noticing under my skirt because we were so crowded. But every bump, every time the brake was hit I though for sure I was gonna lose it.
I couldn't cross my legs so it was just my will and my hand keeping back more than 1 liter of Pepsi (or what ever a large soda is, I never paid attention). I almost broke down and asked her mom to stop at a bathroom but I was too embarrassed so I just bit my lip and prayed I could make it to her house. The worst part was when were on her street. I was so close to the bathroom but she had to slow down for the speed bumps, it was taking forever!! I just kept telling myself I could last a few more seconds. Then finally we were there. I waited to be the last to get out of the car so no one would notice me hunched over for a second as I gathered my strength to walk to the bathroom. Every step was torture. It felt like gallons of pee waiting to rush out and the only thing to keep it back was my quivering peephole. We had all decided to go swimming when we got there. And I figured I'd just go in the bathroom to change and pee, but OMG Derek went in there and I changed with Kristen and Sara in her room. I was absolutely seconds away from wetting myself. And there was no way I could hold myself being naked with everyone without looking weird. Not to mention that we always sat around and talked while we changed, so I would not be able to leave for who knows how long without attracting attention.
My mind was racing with where I could pee without making a scene. Finally I managed a weak excuse that I wanted a drink, they laughed surprised that I was still thirsty after all I drank, Kristen said I must be a camel since I hadn't peed with all I drank. I just smiled a little, if they only knew!!! I went into her mom's room cause there was a bathroom there and just pushed the door open as I lost control. I jammed my hand into my pee hole trying to stop from leaking on the floor, I did it but at the cost of wetting my panties and skirt thoroughly. I just sat on the toilet, my skirt and panties still on, and worse yet I was sitting on my skirt! It got soaked. I started crying knowing there was no way I could stop the torrent of pee that was gushing through my skirt. I just wanted to die. Finally when I finished I was shaking from the shock of what just happened. Then I opened my eyes and saw it was worse than I thought...some of the pee had used my skirt like a water slide and a lot of it had gone all over the floor. Then a knock at the door, it was Sara's mom wondering if I was ok. I froze...did she hear me? I said I was fine, just getting changed.
OMG if she knew what her bathroom looked like, her daughter's friend soaked with her own pee from the waist down and an ever-expanding puddle of pee on her floor. Then I saw it was getting close to the door jam...I fell to the floor trying to push it back with my hands, but no luck. Desperate not to be found out I grabbed the small hand towel that was near me. It was soaked instantly. Then Sara's mom opened the door a little to see if I was ok, I had been making a lot of noise I guess. When she saw me I felt so horrible and humiliated, I said to her that I had accidentally kept the faucet on too long and it went all over the floor, (I know...stupid statement but at the time it seemed plausible) she was such a nice mom she just laughed and said it was ok. She knew what really happened, how could she not, with my skirt being sopping wet. But she was so nice, she humoured me and told me she would take my skirt and whatever else was wet and dry it while I was in the pool. With that crisis gone I realized I had said I was getting changed, but my swimsuit was still in Sara's room (everyone always kept a spare there).
So I had to either walk through the house dripping or naked. Even at that time I loved being naked, but certainly not around anyone and I was self conscience enough around Kristen and Sara, after what just happened it was all I could do not to start crying uncontrollably. Again I got lucky because Sara's mom so understood about this. She told me to stay where I was and she got my swimsuit for me. In a few minutes I was in the pool, trying to forget about what happened. Of course before to long I had to pee again (all that soda and a tired bladder) but I was in the pool. |
another old story from my archive, enjoy!
It has been on a very few occasions when I’ve had anything that I felt would be worthy of posting.
I guess what prompted me to put pen to paper today so to speak, was something that happened a couple of weeks ago. Something I felt I just had to share.
For the past seven years I’ve worked as a procurement manager for a large engineering company based in central Scotland.
Although a lot of my work is office based. I also spend a fair bit of time out on the road visiting both our existing suppliers, and any new companies who I feel may have the potential of providing us with a more competitive product, or a better level of service than that which we are currently receiving.
Two weeks ago I had arranged a three-day trip to the West Midlands, an area where a lot of our current UK suppliers are based. I had also recently come across a couple of new companies, who I thought might be able to help us out with the type of work that we usually look to sub contract. So I felt this would be a good opportunity to perhaps go and check them out.
For the last six months or so I had complained on several occasions to my boss about the ever increasing workload in my department, and as a result a couple of months back he finally agreed to me getting an assistant to help me.
After interviewing a number of potential candidates, I settled in the end for a young girl who had not long left college, and was looking for her first real job.
Although very quiet, and a little bit shy at first. Gillian soon came out of her shell and has since been a great asset to the company.
She is very good at helping me keep control of the paperwork side of things, and I was pleased that in the end, I’d found someone who I felt I would eventually be able to train up on all the other aspects of the job.
For the time being though her job mostly involves communicating with our suppliers on a daily basis to ensure that the deliveries of goods coming into the plant are inline with the production requirements.
Gillian has a very pleasant telephone manner and as a result has built up a good relationship with many of the companies we deal with. With this in mind I began to think that it may well be worth her accompanying me on my latest business trip, as this would give her the chance to meet face to face some of the people she spoke to on a regular basis. So after giving the matter some thought, I decided to mention it to my boss.
I certainly felt that it would be beneficial for her to learn a bit more about the techincal side of the business, and perhaps a good way to start off would be for her to see how some of the items we purchased were actually manufactured.
I was delighted when Alan (my boss) said that he had no objections to me taking Gillian along, and I was even more pleased in the end that Gillian also seemed really keen on the idea.
The plan was that we would spend the Monday morning in the office and then leave just after lunch, so as to arrive in the West Midlands sometime in the early evening. Our first appointment wasn’t until 9.30am on the Tuesday morning, so this meant that we would hopefully be able to have a nice relaxing drive down without really having to rush.
I arrived at the office early on the Monday morning as I wanted to get a few things finished off before leaving, and was quite surprised to see that Gillian was already at work.
“Morning” she said in a cheerful voice, and smiled as I sat down at my desk.
She was dressed in a white blouse with short sleeves, and a navy blue skirt which finished a couple of inches above the knee, and I remembered thinking to myself at the time that she looked very smart indeed.
“You’re early!” I said
“Oh yes” came the reply
“I’m really looking forward to the couple of days out of the office” continued Gillian; “it will be nice to meet up with some of the people I’ve been speaking to on the phone over the last few months”.
“Yeah definitely” I said ‘it’s good to get out and meet people, I hate being stuck behind a desk all day every day, and besides that it’s always interesting to see how other companies work”.
Despite us both being in work early, the morning seemed to fly past and I was surprised when glancing at my watch to see that it was 11.52am.
“You about ready for some lunch?” I asked Gillian
“Yes”, she replied “I could be doing with a sandwich or something”
“Tell you what” I said, “Why don’t we grab a bar lunch together before we head down south? After all we’re going to be on the road for a good few hours. So better to have something substantial before we set off.
Gillian looked a little bit surprised at me suggesting I take her out for lunch. Probably because that despite the fact that we got on really well together, it wasn’t something I’d ever offered to do before. The truth was though, that I had indeed thought about asking her to go out to lunch on a few occasions prior to this. But Gillian already had a long term boyfriend. So I didn’t want to cause her any hassle by putting her in an awkward position.
“Ok then”, she replied “Sounds good to me”
“Fine” I said, “Lets get a move on then”.
We left the office and drove the short distance to a small hotel located not too far from the factory, where we enjoyed a very nice meal together.
After finishing our meal, we set off to begin the long drive south. I didn’t really want to have to make too many stops along the way, so I pulled into a filling station just before we left the town centre to fill up the car with fuel.
Whilst I was standing in the queue to pay for the fuel, Gillian came into the kiosk, went up to where the coolers were located, and returned a second later with a bottle of apple juice, and a couple of packets of sweets.
“You want anything to eat or drink for the journey?” she asked.
“No thanks” I said “I’m fine I’ve already got some mints in the car”
The journey from our factory to the area we were going to visit was one I had taken a number of times before. So I knew that depending on the traffic, we should arrive at our destination sometime around 6.00pm.
Although it was a fairly long journey, and therefore at times could be a bit monotonous, I wasn’t too bothered about that today. I enjoyed Gillian’s company and it made a nice change for me to have someone else in the car to chat to. I figured that it would also perhaps give me the chance to get to know her a little better outside of the office environment.
We had been on the road for a good few hours when the thought crossed my mind, that perhaps I should suggest stopping off somewhere for a coffee. I normally wasn’t one for taking many breaks when out on the road, as I always tended to be in a hurry to get where I was going. But I wasn’t sure if Gillian would be happy for me to just continue driving.
To be honest, there was another reason why I also wasn’t particularly keen on stopping either. Most of the times when I’d done so in the past. I ended up finding out that the 20 or so minutes I’d spent sitting drinking coffee in a motorway service area. Usually meant I tended to get caught up in the rush hour traffic a little further down the road.
Although up until now the traffic hadn’t been all that busy. The stretch of the M6 which runs between Manchester and Birmingham is notoriously bad for major traffic jams, and if you are unlucky enough to get caught up in it at the wrong time of day. It can easily add another hour or more onto your journey.
Based on this I ended up deciding to press on, figuring that Gillian would say if she wanted to stop.
We continued on for another few miles and just as I had predicted earlier, the traffic did indeed begin to get much busier the further south we travelled.
Gillian had been really good company all afternoon and I was enjoying having her with me on the journey. The time seemed to be passing quite quickly and I was surprised to see on glancing at the clock that it was now getting on for around 3.45pm. We had made good time up until now, and provided that we didn’t run into any delays. I figured that we would reach our hotel in about an hour and a half.
A few miles further down the road we approached a large sign that read “next services 18 miles”.
“Do you think we could stop off for a few minutes?” said Gillian, pointing to the sign “I could do with using the loo!”
“Sure no problem”, I said
“Now you mention it” I sad “I guess it’s probably about time we had a break. I could be doing with a coffee and a rest from the driving for a while anyway”
“Yeah, I didn’t realise actually just how far away it is from where we live” said Gillian “I guess geography isn’t one my strong points”.
We had driven about another four of five miles since passing the sign informing us of the distance to the services. When I began to notice that our speed was beginning to steadily decrease as more and more traffic joined the motorway from the surrounding slip roads
I knew that from previous experience that this could potentially mean that fairly soon it was just possible that we were going to find ourselves stuck in a long line of slow moving traffic. This had happened to me previously on a couple of occasions whilst travelling on this stretch of road. Although I certainly was hoping though that it wasn’t going to be the case today. As I am not the worlds most patient driver at times.
We were lucky if we had travelled another couple of miles, when slowly the traffic in front of began to slow right down to a crawl, and eventually came to a grinding halt.
“Oh Shit”, I said in a frustrated tone “I was afraid this might happen”
“I wonder what the problem is?” Gillian asked
“Oh it happens all the bloody time around here!” I said, “It’s just down to the sheer volume of traffic all trying to head in the same direction at the same time”.
“It’s about high time the government did something about the lack of money being spent on the roads these days”. I continued as Gillian just sort of nodded her head in agreement.
It was one of those situations where you find yourself inching forward in first gear a few feet at a time, and then stopping every few minutes for no apparent reason.
“Oh well” I said sighing loudly, “I guess we’re going to be stuck for a while”.
I put down the window and stuck my head out in an attempt to see if there were any temporary signs warning us of impending roadworks, but all that was visible up ahead was three lanes of very slowing moving traffic.
Over the course of the next 45 minutes the traffic continued to inch forward at a snails pace, and I began to notice that Gillian had become much less talkative than before. In fact she hadn’t really said a word during the last half-hour.
“You ok there” I asked
“Yeah fine” replied Gillian quietly.
All afternoon Gillian had been in a very happy go lucky sort of mood, and the sudden change in her tone of voice led me think that something was up.
I had not long since been asking her a few questions regarding her current relationship, and I kind of wondered if perhaps maybe she was feeling a bit miffed with me for being so inquisitive.
“I haven’t said something to offend you have I?”
“Sorry?” replied Gillian looking a little puzzled.
“I’m just saying I hope I haven’t caused any offence by asking you something I shouldn’t have”.
“No of course not” replied Gillian “What makes you say that?”
“It’s just that you’ve been awfully quiet for a while” I replied.
“Oh no it’s not that” said Gillian hesitating slightly
“It’s just that well to be honest I’ve been sort of dying to go to the loo for ages and it’s making me feel really uncomfortable”.
“Ah I see”, I said. Not really knowing quite what to say to her.
“I guess being stuck in this bloody traffic won’t be helping matters either,” I said sympathetically.
“Err no not really” said Gillian
“Hopefully things will start to clear up a bit fairly soon” I said, trying to be positive.
“It’s just a bit of nuisance that’s all” continued Gillian “I guess I’m just having a little difficulty in focusing my thoughts on much else at the moment”.
I glanced at my watch I quickly realised that it had in fact been nearly an hour since Gillian had first said about wanting a loo.
I knew how shy she had been in the first few weeks after starting work with our company, and I certainly didn’t want to embarrass her. So I avoided any further references regarding her needing to pee.
I knew that we were still at least eight or maybe even nine miles away from the services, and it was obvious that we were currently going nowhere fast. You didn’t have to be Einstein to work out that If things didn’t start to pick up fairly soon, it was going to take us a while to get there.
For years now, I’d been aware of my interest in this sort of thing, and I always enjoyed seeing people in situations where they badly wanted to pee but couldn’t.
Right now however I really was beginning to wish that Gillian, hadn’t been so honest with me about the fact that she badly needed to go to loo.
As it was now the case that she wasn’t the only one who was having difficulty in focussing her thoughts on anything else. I also couldn’t get the thought of her sitting there and bursting to pee out of my head.
I found myself beginning to watch her more closely and it soon became obvious from her body language that she was indeed anything but comfortable sitting in the car.
She had her legs pressed tightly together, and every so often would occasionally shift position in her seat. This causing her already short skirt to ride up further, exposing even more of her thighs.
By now I had to admit that I was beginning to feel slightly turned on from watching her, and as a result all sorts of thoughts were going through my head at this time.
How long had she actually needed to go and more importantly just how bad was it getting.
I mean ok it had been an hour or so since she’d first mentioned about stopping, but had she been holding on for any length of time before that?
I had no real way of knowing, and I certainly wasn’t about to ask her.
Sure we had been on the road for a fair few hours, and yes I suppose if I was being honest, I had felt the occasional twinge in my bladder over the last few miles. But I wasn’t anywhere even close to reaching the point where it starts to become urgent.
Then again however, thinking about it a little more, I hadn’t consumed nearly as much liquid in the previous few hours as Gillian.
I remembered that when back in the office she tended to drink a fair amount of coffee, especially in the mornings. Add to that the large glass of wine that I had bought her at lunchtime. Then the apple juice that she had been sipping during the journey, then yes I guessed that it was certainly possible that she could be feeling quite desperate, if not yet absolutely bursting.
Another ten minutes had passed and we were lucky if we had moved a few hundred yards.
By now I began chatting to her about if she had anything planned for the summer holidays, in an attempt to try and help take both our minds off the situation in hand.
As we sat there talking it was becoming clear that she was finding it much more difficult to hide her increasing desperation. Every so often she would sort of curl up her bottom lip, and grimace slightly as another wave of desperation would come over her.
The car was now sitting level with a sign that told us we had 3 miles to go until we reached the services.
“Oooooh” exclaimed Gillian suddenly sucking in a gulp of air through her teeth and biting her bottom lip.
“You ok” I asked her gently “You look to suffering a bit”
“Oh Christ”, said Gillian trying to catch her breath
“How much longer do you think it’s going to take us to get off this bloody motorway”
“I’m not sure” I said looking at my watch “At this rate worse case scenario, I’d say you’re looking at another half an hour or so”
“Oh God it hurts” exclaimed Gillian “I really can’t take this much longer”.
By now any feeling of enjoyment I had got from watching Gillian wriggling around on the seat beside me. Had all but disappeared, and had been replaced by a feeling of totally sympathy.
She was as she had put it a few minutes earlier “not going to last much longer” and from the look on her face it would have been obvious to a blind man that she was in severe discomfort.
For years I had wanted so much to be able to witness at close quarters a girl in this sort of predicament. And yet just now I was amazed to find that instead of finding it highly arousing, as I had previously expected it would be. I was actually finding the whole event totally embarrassing.
I really didn’t know how to handle it. Gillian was becoming increasingly distressed by the hopelessness of the situation, and I couldn’t think for the life of me what I could do to help her. Apart from continuing to offer her a few words of moral support.
All I wanted now was for her to be able to hold on just that little bit longer and to get to the toilet before it was too late. I certainly didn’t want for one second for her to start wetting her knickers. Although if we didn’t reach the services very soon, what other possible outcome could there be. Gillian was now virtually unable to sit still for more than a couple of minutes, and looked to me to be on the verge of tears.
We were stuck in the inside lane of the motorway with traffic on all sides, which meant that there was just nowhere she could go outside without being seen.
After what seemed like an eternity but what was actually only another 10 minutes, the long line of traffic in front of us very slowly began to pick up speed, and within a couple of minutes we began to move freely.
It only took us about another four or five minutes to reach the exit ramp, and a few minutes later we arrived at the service station.
Gillian was already undoing her seatbelt as we made our way round towards the front of the building, and immediately leapt from the car the instant we stopped outside the entrance.
I locked the car and headed up into the foyer to see Gillian disappearing into the ladies room, and returning a few minutes later looking very relieved.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“God you’re not joking!” said Gillian “I really thought for a minute back there I wasn’t going to make it”.
“I know you did”, I said smiling, “Anyhow, let’s go grab that coffee”.
We spent the next 20 minutes or so enjoying a coffee and a well deserved rest before continuing with on the last leg of our journey.
The next couple of days turned out to in the end to be very successful, and by the time we left on the Thursday morning to head back home, Gillian seemed to have got over the embarrassment and had enjoyed the trip. The one thing I made sure of on the return journey was that we stopped for a break a couple of times on the way home.
Thinking back on it today, as I have done a number of times this last couple of weeks. I guess I would have say that this is without doubt the best sighting I’ve had to date of a woman in dire need of a loo.
I would have to be honest though and say that even though it was a highly embarrassing event. It was also enjoyable in a strange kind of way. |
another one from somewhere on the internet
When I was 18, my brother and I went on holiday to Morocco. It was a week's adventure in four wheel drive vehicles starting and finishing in Marrakesh. We were going to be camping in the desert and we were really looking forward to the whole trip. We had already been camping as guides and scouts so this did not present a problem. We received notification of the other members of the party, a couple of weeks before hand and I was rather dismayed to find out that there were six guys on the trip and only two girls. Me and another girl, named Alison. I knew that this this would make toilet arrangements slightly awkward, so I must admit I worried about this.
We had two really exciting days in Marrakesh and then the adventure started with a long five hour journey to the Todra Gorge. Now although my brother and I went on holiday together, we really didn't get on, so I was going to share a tent with Alison. My brother also rode in different vehicles as did Alison and I. I have to say that we both enjoyed the male attention but I had worried that this was going to make it slightly embarrassing if I needed to go to the loo. I sat in the back seat, in the middle of the Toyata Landcruiser with a good view, with two other guys, including the tour leader, to either side.
Now the first two hours were fine and we eventually stopped for lunch in a small restuarant. We had also stopped at a petrol station and I took the precaution of using a rather disgusting loo. I was wearing a yellow teashirt and a pair of tan coloured cotton shorts.
After lunch I 'made sure', one more time for the afternoon drive as far as the Todra Gorge. Shortly after Ouarzazate we turned off and the roads were less good and getting bumpy. I discovered that the bumps were having a rather disconcerting effect on my bladder, making me feel the need to wee everytime this rather heavily sprung four wheel drive vehicle went into a pot hole. After about two hours we stopped for a break. A couple of the boys including my brother (thankyou very much!!) ran off for a standing wee but there was nowhere to hide and I certainly wasn't going to pull my shorts down and squat in the open with everybody looking. I asked Alison if she needed the loo but she said she was OK.
We set off again.The road was getting bumpier and my need was getting more urgent. I was willing there to be a petrol station or somewhere large enough for there to be public loo or just anywhere really, that I could go. I was terrified that I might just lose control and wet myself sitting between two guys, I didn't really know.I didn't say anything and was sitting upright, biting my bottom lip with my thighs squeezed as tightly together as possible.
Eventually I was courageous enough to overcome my shyness about asking for the loo and whispered to the leader if he could please ask the driver to stop at the next petrol station. After another twenty minutes of agony, we stopped. I was really bursting at this stage, the bumps were doing me no good at all and I was on the verge of wetting my pants.
We pulled in to get petrol. It was a busy little place with a number of little factories, all full of men. The leader had gone to look for a loo and I had got out of the vehicle and was standing, looking everywhere for somewhere to go. I had my legs crossed and I could really feel that my wee right at the last point of leaking into my knickers. You know that stage when without warning, it could come at any moment and there is nothing you can do to stop it. The leader came back and said "I'm sorry Holly, there are no loos at this station, there is another one after about half hours drive from here".
I got back into the vehicle, I was so dissapointed. I just said "Oooh, I REALLY need the loo". I sat in the middle, my knees bouncing together really fast, my hands clenched together pushed down between my legs. We set off again the road was getting bumpier. I begin to feel tears dwelling up in my eyes, I could visualise myself going in my tan shorts and then I realised how obvious it would be. So I held on again, ever so more tightly.In fact, I could have already started to leak and I wouldn't have known. All of a sudden we went over a huge bump that made us all lift off our seats. I let my hands go loose from between my legs. I thought I felt my wee start to leak, then the driver used the windscreen squirter. I saw the jet of water. This was the last straw. I just shouted at the top of my voice... STOPPP!!!!!... The driver stopped, the Leader said "Let Holly out quickly or she'll wet herself". I barely managed a few metres from the vehicle, I just yanked down my shorts, exposing my white panties and bum to everybody including the staggered local driver and weed and weed and weed. I wanted it to stop because I was embarrassed but it wouldn't. As I looked down, I could see that the gusset of my panties was very wet and yellow. I had really just made it in time or it would have been disaster!!. Imagine the shame of wetting myself in between two guys, I didn't know in the back of a vehicle!.
As I get got back into the Landcruiser, the leader simply said, "Feeling better Holly?. I said, "Fine.. thankyou". Nothing more was said. |
the stories are from different sources as I can remember, I collect stories since many years. A few of them were from experience project (before it changed), others from old and now eleminated forums.
Here is another one:
Helen crossed her legs under the table, aware of a growing pressure in her bladder. It had been a long day at the conference for everyone, and everyone would be happy when the final questions were completed. Helen knew that she’d be heading for the ladies as soon as everything finished…she wasn’t desperate yet, but she’d been thirsty all afternoon, and the bottle of mineral water in front of her was almost empty. She knew that the water would be working through her slim, 21 year old body, and felt herself give her legs a little squeeze together as another few drops entered her bladder…
The conference questions were drifting aimlessly, and Helen’s mind started to wander also. She could feel the pressure growing on her bladder, but didn’t want to leave until everyone else did. She was quite a shy girl, and didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Her thoughts drifted to some of the problems her bladder had caused her before…she hoped that today wouldn’t be another “accident” to add to those before.
Her mind went back to a day at college…she had been doing some extra work over lunch time (always a dedicated student), and had lost track of time in the library. She had checked the clock, and realised she was supposed to be getting ready for a hockey game. She had packed up and dashed to the sports field, just making it in time to get changed. Quickly, she had put her kit on and headed for the hockey field…
Within 10 minutes of the game starting, Helen remembered regretting working too long…she hadn’t had time for a quick pee before heading for the game. It was a cold day, and she had felt her small bladder filling very quickly. There had been no chance of going back to the changing rooms, so she had just had to get on with the game and hold her pee in. But her little bladder hadn’t been able to cope with the cold, and the running to chase the ball, and Helen remembered the first few drops leaking into her gym-short covered panties. She’d stopped running, and got control back…but the leaks and dribbles continued for the rest of the match. By the time the game finished, she remembered feeling some trickles running down her legs, through her soaked panties and shorts, as she dashed back to the changing rooms. She’d run straight to the toilet, and peed out everything she had left. Helen remembered that her little white panties had been soaked through and that she had no spare ones, so had to spend the rest of the day in just her jeans…she’d have died with embarrassment if she thought anyone else had known…
“And that concludes today. Thank you to everyone for attending”
Helen’s attention snapped back to the present; the conference was over for the day. She uncrossed her legs to stand up, and winced a little as her bladder twinged. Her control had got better recently, but her bladder often gave her little notice before it needed emptying. She was feeling that mineral water now for sure, and knew that a visit to the ladies was becoming a priority. She gathered her stuff up and headed for the exit, confident that she had enough time to get to the toilet she had used earlier.
“Now, where was that toilet?” thought Helen to herself. She was sure she had turned right out of the hall earlier, so did the same and headed down a corridor. The signs were hopeless in this building, but she was certain she knew where the loo was. She hoped she was right, because she really could feel her bladder now. Helen was regretting drinking all that water a little now, but still sure she would find relief in time.
“Hmmm, this seems to be taking a little longer than I remember”, she thought, as she hurried down the corridor, looking out for the ladies. “I’m sure it was around here…perhaps just around this next corner”.
Helen turned the next corner, and was shocked to find herself walking straight into a fire exit! The surprise of there being no toilet sent a shudder through her body, and she felt herself having to cross her legs tightly to make sure she kept her bladder under control.
“Dammit…I’m sure the ladies was here”, she thought, “Perhaps I should have gone left out of the hall”. Helen turned back down the corridor and hurried back the way she had come, sure that there must be a toilet close by. Her bladder was really pressing now as the water ran through her – she was having to keep her legs tight together as she hurried along back to the corridor.
“OK, the hall is just round this next corner, and the ladies should be just past it”, she thought, rounding what she was sure she remembered to be the final corner. She was amazed to find herself in a completely different place to where she had started! The conference hall was nowhere to be seen, there was just another long corridor. This second shock, and the sudden realisation that she was now lost, made another shudder run through her body. And this time, Helen knew she hadn’t been quick enough to press her legs together. A few little drops of pee escaped into her blue cotton panties. “Nooo”, she thought to herself…remembering all those time when she had arrived home from work, desperate on her doorstep, and leaking into her panties as she ran up the stairs to pee. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d had to change her panties after getting home…it seemed to happen so often!
“Not again” thought Helen, as she could feel her slightly damp crotch under her jeans. “Please let there be a loo just around the corner, I’m so desperate now”.
Lost, and beginning to panic, Helen dashed down the corridor, checking every door in the hope that it might have the little symbol on it that would bring her relief. She had her bladder under control, but was having to squeeze her legs together as she moved, praying that no more escaped…
But despite her efforts, Helen’s bladder was full, and it wanted to empty. As she hurried past another door, she felt a little squirt escape into her panties. This forced her to stop, and cross her legs tightly together to get her control back. She could feel her panties were warm and damp now, and had only just got control back this time.
“Where is the loo…? Please let there be one here”, cried out Helen, desperate for anyone to help her. She knew that she had very little time left now, her bladder had reached bursting point, and she was having to double over and press her hands into her crotch as she shuffled along the corridor. There was no-one else around, and she was even beginning to think about just dropping her jeans and panties right there and peeing in the corridor…but she would never dare do that…she was too good a girl!
She hurried along the corridor again, checking each door, until…“Yes!!!” squealed Helen…finally one of the doors on the corridor had a little Disabled sign on it! She thought she could at last empty her bladder, which produced another little leak as she saw the sign. She pushed to door…and it didn’t open.
“Nooo…please don’t be locked”, she cried in desperation, pummelling it with both fists.
Fortunately, this force made the door move a little. Helen pushed it with all her strength, and it opened a little more. However, the stress of pushing caused Helen to forget about her bladder for a second, and it punished her. A big squirt escaped into her already soaked panties, this time penetrating through to her jeans. She had to stop pushing and press her hands between her legs to get control back…but this would be her last chance, she knew.
The door was almost open, but could she risk pushing again? Helen knew she had to, so clenched every muscle she could, and gave it one last effort. More of her pee escaped, trickling down her thigh….but the door opened! At last, there was a toilet!
After the effort of pushing, Helen’s bladder was now leaking badly, making her jeans damp between her legs. She had to pee right now, or she’d totally lose it. Not bothering to close the door, she dashed to the toilet, ripped down her jeans and panties, pee gushing out of her even before she had sat on the seat.
Helen peed for as long as she ever had…all the mineral water pouring out of her overfilled bladder. She knew the door was open, but couldn’t stop the flow to close it, so just had to sit there, praying no-one came past, until her bladder was spent. Even when the pee stopped flooding out of her, she sat there for a few moments to gather her thoughts, before dragging her damp clothes back up and shutting the door.
In the mirror, Helen surveyed the damage. Her jeans were a little damp between the legs, but her coat would hide that. Her panties, however, were drenched, especially after they last push on the door. Quickly, she took her jeans and panties off, slipping the soaked panties into her bag, and pulling the jeans back over her now naked lower half.
Once again, Helen was going to have to go home with no panties on. “One day”, she though to herself, “I’ll learn to get to the loo in plenty of time”…
She opened the toilet door, and was amazed to find the conference hall she had started at straight ahead of her. The realisation dawned on Helen…the last time she had peed, she hadn’t turned right, or turned left…she had gone straight ahead. And if she had done the same this time, she would still have dry panties on. “But”, she thought to herself, “I am a blonde…and we have so much more fun!” |
Okay, before this story begins I want to clarify what smite is.Smite is a free to play MOBA game like League of Legends, but immensely better in my humble opinion. The game mode the story takes place in is conquest. Izanami is a hunter class, so she is the teams adc (all damage carry) . Ymir is a guardian class tank and her support. Bakasura is chaos' jungle chaac is chaos' solo laner. Scylla is their mid-laner Ullr is the enemy teams adc, also hunter class. Then finally Ratataskr is the enemy team's assassin or jungle.Minions have spawned
Izanami opened her eyes to see herself in the chaos fountain. Beside her stands Ymir, who she assumed to be her support. chaac grunted as he picked up his magical ax. "Another round of conquest with these pathetic gods"Grunted Bakasura our teams jungle. "I was trying to feast on some immortals, I guess Jungle is on the menu today". He smiled with his hooded face gleaming at the thought of eating yet another immortal... Or at least taking a good size bite out of them.Izanami examined her last teammate her mid lane mage, Scylla. "Oh boy"She thought to herself. I really hope she knows whats she's doing, Otherwise, Bakasura is as likely to eat her as he is the enemy immortals.
Picking up Death's toll, Bumba's Mask, 2 wards, and 2 potions Izanami went into right lane determined to slay her enemy, not because the player wanted her too. No She wanted to feel the blood and gore the violence of war could bring. She felt ecstacy when she laned her sickle in an enemy's flesh. Smiling ear to ear she arrived at her damage camp and placed a ward. Seeing Ymir already cleared it and left her the buff. She picked up the buff and went on to the Void camp to assist Ymir in taking his buff. *Whoosh*
Not even 2 seconds upon entering her lane she felt the wind of an ax pass right by her, she quickly turned and dashed behind her opponent. Ullr stood watching waiting for Izanami to reappear, However he didn't notice the frost giant ganking him and freezing him in place.
"I shall feast on you're blood!" Izanami shrieked as she landed her buffed up sickle into ullr's back causing first blood. She drank a potion to replenish the mana she lost when the air around her seemed to grow cold. As if death itself was approaching. She looked around. Left, Right. Left. Where.
*SREEcH!*
Ratataskr landed his ult right on top of her knocking her against the stone wall behind her. She looked up at the puny squirrel who caused her so much pain. she drank her potion and began to feel a to feel a familiar tightness in her abdomen. "Great, not only am i about to be defeated by a squirrel. I also have to pee." She managed to stand up and look around he was gone. "Huh, must of been ganking," [VSTB] I'm returning to base.
Returned to the fountain she saw an unfortunate sight. Bakasura was walking showing great discomfort as he walked before burping up a minion. "damn that Bellona next time I see her I'm going to do more than take off her arm" He grumbled furious at the missed meal. Izanami bought a chalice of mana, and a chalice of health. She walked back to her lane, hoping that Ymir was still there.An ally has been slain
She heard the familiar voice echo through the battle field she looked up to the sky to see Ymir's picture with a respawn counter.
"Great"
"You can't outrun my bow" Ullr yelled as he shot his volley of arrows in her direction.
"WHAT the he;;, he was level three 2 minutes ago, how is he already level seven!" Izanami used her escape to hide behind the rock wall beside the Gold Fury. She drank from her chalice of health and immediately regretted it. "I have to piss so bad, how do these potions run right through me?" She looked at the match timer 6;35.. 6;36...6;37 "DAMMIT". She knew the average length of a match was 25-50 minutes she couldn't hold it that long.
"I've got you now!" A voice said as she felt a sharp burning pain hit her in the back causing her to leak a tiny bit into her cyan blue panties darkening the area around her privates.
She quickly turned around and there stood Ullr with a lustful bloodthrist smile. "You know what we do to girls like you on the battlefield?" We kill them slowly to make an example" Ullr used his 2 and powered up his bow as he shot. Hitting izanami directly in the leg. Blood shot out and formed a vortex healing the wound. She grabbed her sickle tighter, she had no mana left already. she used up all of it during her escape last time. "She cried out for help limping away" ThenFlash
she felt the ax hit her in the back. she collaped to the dirt. *pant.. pant* she felt her bladder begin to empty... the warm sensation filling her panties, staining her blue kimono, she couldn't stop it she could only reach at the air as Ullr slowly walked towards her. Blood and piss covering the ground. She was warm the urine had flowed down her legs like a water fall and blood rushed from the wound on her back. "On your stomach like the crazy whore you are," He fired one final arrow.You have been slain
Izanami rested in a state of yen while she waited to respawn. "I'll get that bastard this time, NOONE EMBARRASSES ME LIKE THIS"
She awoke at fountain... purchasing the items to continue her build. "Its payback time Ullr, you better be ready for the wraith of a yokai! She screamed!
This is my first fiction work let me know some suggestions and maybe advice. Also let me know if you enjoyed it. |
CHAPTER 1
Ms. Chandler was a good-looking art teacher for her age. Lots of the male teachers and students thought that for 35 she was pretty attractive. Her hips were kind of big, but some meat on the legs was hotter on a woman than skin and bones. That day she had on tan, tight pants and brown shoes. She wore a white top and orange dress jacket, and her brown hair tied into a bun. Across the hall was Ms. Kringle. An English teacher with a muscular body, tan skin, curly blonde hair, and that day had on white heels, tight blue jeans, and a tight green shirt. Late twenties, and man did she raise the blood pressure of some of the boys in class. Down the other end was Ms. Marison. Black hair tied up in a ponytail, thin legs, but a shaped butt, and wore a white button down dress shirt that day and tight tan pants and brown high heels. Then, a student teacher named Ms. Jennie was teaching her class in math. She was tall, brown hair tied in a ponytail, nice breasts, and they showed in her tight, dark blue shirt. Just like her nice legs in those tight white pants. Ms. Kelso was a red head with long hair, bright skin and long, tan legs that were athletic-fit. She wore a short black skirt, blue tight top, and heels.
They all had something in common. They were in their late-twenties to mid-thirties, attractive, and they all had a big cup of coffee before work, and refilled at school before first class. They all just taught two classes in a row and as one could imagine, their coffees had them feeling a bit of a build up in their bladders that felt hot and a little pushing.
Ms. Chandler sat in her chair whistling as her students finished their works. Her legs crossed. She wasn’t dying to go (yet) but who knew? What if they had a fire drill, a lockdown, she worried. The bell rang, and she along with the other teachers in their classrooms got up, guided their students out, and were ready to move forward for relief.
Ms. Kelso locked her room door and began to walk off but was pulled back. Her key was stuck in the door. She yanked on it but no use. “Oh no,” she said worried, her legs shook. She clenched her fit tan legs together as she fought for her keys. Her room key was also the teacher lavatory key. Her glasses fogged as sweat dripped from her head. “Come on!” she begged as she put a foot on the wall and pulled back and got her key out. She thanked the lord and ran off.
“Damn!” she said. She saw the school’s one teacher’s lavatory (they had a small school) with a line of the four other teachers outside of it. That only made the pressure in her build up.
All five waited in line. The order went Chandler at the front, then Kringle, Marison, Jennie, and Kelso. Their legs went from a crossed to foot tapping motion as their lips did that sexy pounce like they want to kiss as they waited, annoyed how long it was taking. When Ms. Chandler had gotten there before first she stuck her key in to enter the one person bathroom, but no good. It was locked from the inside. She struggled with turning her key as someone was locked within. She stepped back as she heard from behind the door them releving themselves making her own pains worse.
“Of all days to have to pee bad, right?” Ms. Chandler said to the girls behind her. The other teachers nodded in agreement.
Ms. Kringle had her hands in her jeans pockets. She bounced a little in place. Marison looked at her watch as she waved back and forth feeling her inner preasure slowly build up to more discomfort. Marison said, “Um, ladies…there’s only a minute before the bell.”
They all looked like they had seen a ghost. “Oh, oh!” A couple of them said. Due to safety policies for students teachers had to be back in classes before the bell. There was no way they were all going to get to go.
Ms. Chandler knocked on the door. “Um, excuse me?”
“Just a sec!” the voice behind said.
“It’s just the bell is almost here. We all need to go, so please wrap it up.”
After about twenty seconds, Chandler was going to knock again, but the occupant came out. It was a student, senior Lizzie Banks. The Principal’s daughter.
Their jaws all dropped. “Hey!” Marison said. “You’re not suppose to be in there. It’s our bathroom.”
Lizzie put her hands on her hips. “Like I care. Daddy gave me keys to every room in the school in case of emergency. Besides it’s impossible to put makeup on in the student bathrooms with a crowd in there.”
She wasn’t even going to the bathroom, yet made all these poor teachers and their filled bladders wait.
“Whatever,” Chandler said. She started to walk in, but the bell rang. They all had to go back to class. NO CHOICE! They moaned and walked back, except for Ms. Kelso who was at the end of the line and dancing pretty much.
“Well I lucked out!” she said. “Next two classes are off for me!” And there she went, into the bathroom, panties pulled down, and letting it all out. She let out a sigh of relief. The others were so jealous. Would they get to as wel?......
TO BE CONTINUED… |
So is the story not good then? In my school teachers had two classes off, but they might have study halls. And teachers wore jeans at my school all the time. This is a fiction story, but none is unrealistic.
CHAPTER 2
The next hour went by very, VERY slow. The other four teachers, their bladders were not aching like hell yet, but they were VERY uncomfortable. The bulging feeling of a rock pushing out of their bellies made them realize they really had to pee. Ms. Chanlder was stuck in the one room without AC in the school. She had to fill her bottle up with water from the fountain and guzzled it down without thinking. Inside her body that water flowed through her system, and sprayed as a yellow liquid into her filled bladder making it expand harder against her lower muscles.
Her legs were squeezed together as her foot tapped. Sweat came off her forehead. “Ms. Chandler,” a student asked, bringing up his art piece. “How’s my water colors on this?” WATER…the word sent a beam of pain in her.
Ms. Kringle could not help but walk around her class as they all read from their book. She bit on her fingernails as her legs crossed over each other. She could not help but look up at the clock, and it was never any closer to relief for her.
Ms. Marison looked across the hall in disappointment and full view of the bathroom. Two female teachers waited outside right then. One in a tight pink shirt, pink heels, and tight black pants, the other in a silver dress and black nylons, boots and jacket. They leaned against the wall, waiting, looking annoyed, their bodies waved back and forth. Marison said, “Oh why do they lack enough restrooms in this stupid school!”
The bell rang. All the teachers got up and ran to you know where. As Ms. Marison got up, a student stopped her. The student wanted to ask about the lesson they just reviewed. Marison froze at her desk with her legs shaking in an out from each other. She really had to go to the bathroom and use the toilet! As she frowned, sweat dripped from her head. She felt the boiling pressure as a hot cramp that resembled the start of a hernia is what it felt like. “That’s right!” Marison said. “That’s what that theory means.” She then started to head back out, but another student grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back. Her left leg kicked out to the side as she was pulled in the opposite direction, hopping on her right foot. Her tan pants with white lines for design tightened across her butt. “Mmmmmm.” She moaned. The next student asked for help as well. So did the other two students behind him. Three more people needed help. Marison closed her eyes and bounced.
All the other teachers made it to the one person bathroom for teachers. But those two teachers Marison saw before were still waiting. The one in the pink shirt had her hands at her crotch and her legs shuffled in place. She knocked on the door. “Are you almost done, I really gotta go!” As all the teachers waited they had looks of worried on their faces, like if they would make it before next bell. Chandler had her hands in her pockets and legs crossed as she crouched over a little to deal with the pressure. She was behind those two teachers, and Ms. Kringle was behind Chandler, and Ms. Jennie behind at the very end.
“Um, hello?!?” asked the pink shirt teacher, Ms. Pella. She did not have much time left.
Inside the bathroom, student teacher Angela with her green pants, brown shoes and exposed ankles and white shirt sat on the toilet. Her pants were down as she released her liquids into the toilet, but after that and she flushed, she remained sitting there going through her texts with her boyfriend. “Hahahahaahah!” she laughed at his cute reply. She ignored the knocking and pleads to unoccupy the restroom. “Annoying” she said about Ms. Pella continuing to knock. Angela brushed back her hair and smiled.
Ms. Marison stood with the final questioning student in her room. Marison had her legs crossed, slowly bouncing in place. God, I’m going to freaking pee my pants! She REALLY had to GO! The pressure beat against her belly.
Ms. Pella grabbed her hair and jogged in place in her pink heels. She started to cry as it hurt having to hold it in. Behind her, that other teacher in the silver dress shirt and black nylons and jacket, Ms. Fally, she had her arms crossed on her chest as she bounced. Ms. Chandler was VERY DESPERATE to PEE at this point. Like Marison, the pressure would not stop pulsing every second. The uncomfortable, hot, bladder bursting growing inside was bad. Her legs crossed tight, biting on her lips, eyes watered, anxiety rising as her heart rate picked up in panic. Man, I can’t wet myself in front of the school. How humiliating!
“Ummmmm…” Ms. Fally said. She started to bite on her fingers as she looked around.
“What’s wrong?” Ms. Pella asked.
Ms. Fally turned red. She covered her face in her hands and her knees turned inwards. Ms. Fally’s bladder had given out and pee was leaking out into her panties and down her thigs in the black leggings. Into her black boots. “SON OF A!” It was not as bad as she made it out to be. Luckily, the dark clothes masked the sight. But she would still be feeling it all day. She ran back to her room to spray her clothes with air freshener.
“Oh what’s taking her so long in there!” Chandler danced and pleaded. Her hands at her crotch as she slouched.
Ms. Kringle danced from foot to foot, top of her legs tight together holding it, grabbed her crotch. “Maaannnnn! I feel like I’m going to explode!” Her skin lost all tan due to stress, and she became white as a ghost. I’m going to freaking pee my panties! “Screw this. I’m using the student’s restroom before I have an accident.” Kringle stumbled off, tipping side to side. She passed Ms. Marison who finally showed up.
“Crap!” Marison said, seeing the size of the line. She ran up and knocked on the door. “Come on hurry up, we all gotta pee!”
Being a student teacher, Ms. Jennie waited, legs crossed in tight white pants breathing in and out heavy.
Angela finally opened the door. Her arms crossed on her chest, looking cocky with that smile. As Marison tried to rush in Angela pushed her back. Ms. Pella tried to move past her but Angela blocked it.
“Come on the bell’s ringing soon,” Pella said in agony.
Ms. Kringle was at the student restroom, but the Principal grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Ms. Kringle, you know the student restroom is for students only.” He said.
She bounced with her arms to her side. “Yes, sir but I really gotta,” her voice strained.
“Rules are rules.”
Then the bell rang.
Kringle’s jaw dropped and cried tears a little.
The teacher’s in line almost had heart attacks from this. Angela laughed and walked away. Marison tried running in. But Pella pushed her away. Pella went in and pulled her black pants down, “Gotta go, ,gotta go!” and she spread her legs and sat down and let out a long, warm, belly deflated pee. “Ooooohh yeah!” she said in relief. She looked up, eyes closed and she smiled. Her muscles became less tense and she could breath easy.
The rest outside: they squirmed as another wait was ahead in their classes.
To be continued…..
Edited November 9, 2017 by Rick Dixon
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Subsets and Splits