The Huntress (Commission)

For context: Graela is an orc huntress who is incontinent. 

Graela stalked through the woods, searching for prey. Game was light in the woods, but a good hide could make her much money, and even if it didn’t… game wasn’t the only treasure in these woods. 

Other hunters, that was where the real money was. Graela could rob them blind, leave their bodies behind, and come up with treasure to last herself for weeks. 

It wasn’t criminal, it was survival of the fittest. Orcs didn’t abide weakness, and Graela was no exception. If the other hunters couldn’t defend themselves, that was their own fault. Besides… paying wizards to conjure diapers for her was expensive. 

Her problems were not unheard of, but were certainly rare for a warrior. Bulky, pedestrian cloth diapers created too much of a problem for her combat, so to compensate for this, she had to use more effective, thinner disposable diapers. They worked well, but they were expensive, and keeping in clean diapers was a costly hassle. 

So, she was on the hunt, and she had her prey. 

A young elf was in the clearing up ahead, stalking forward with a bow. No doubt she had some prey in mind. An elk, or maybe even something bigger. 

Little did she know, she was about to become the prey. 

Graela crept forward. The elf had no idea what was coming for her, and the only sound that the orc made was a subtle, barely noticeable crinkle. 

Showing her tusks, Graela raised her dagger, scanned the horizon one more time for threats, then stood and charged. 

Her footfalls were almost silent as she crossed the distance to the oblivious elf. She couldn’t have been more unnoticed if she was invisible and on a different plane. 

She was only fifty feet away, then forty. The elf still hadn’t noticed. This was going to be too easy, and- 

BLOOORT. 

Her body chose that very moment to betray her. Footsteps hitching, her bowels began to void themself into her diaper in a particularly noisy way. 

She picked up her stride, but running at full tilt was impossible, not with her center of gravity quickly being deposited into the seat of her padding. 

Worse, the sound gave her away. The elf looked up at the noise, her eyes widened in alarm, and she dropped her bow. It was a peculiar choice, to drop her weapon while an angry - if stinky - orc was charging at you, but as the elf’s hands blurred and came up with a tonfa, Graela realized her plan. 

There was no time for the orc to change her plan, or even her course. The blunt weapon caught her on the heels, and she tumbled forward, landing face first in the dirt. 

Her diaper gurgled a little as it finished filling, and there was no chance to stand from being knocked prone before the elf was on top of her, using some sort of martial arts hold to pin Graela’s arms in place. 

Pressure was applied to Graela’s wrists, and pain rippled through the orc’s shoulders. She grunted, slightly, and then the pain released. 

“Don’t struggle,” the elf instructed, “Or I’ll push hard enough to dislocate your shoulders.” 

Graela wasn’t stupid. Threats would do her no good. She couldn’t convincingly suggest that she could rip the elf’s head off, not when the elf had complete control of her body. 

“Gods, you stink,” the elf muttered, moving her foot and pushing on the belt of Graela’s pants. The trousers slid down, revealing the mucky, full diaper beneath. “So you’re the one who’s been attacking hunters?” 

No point in lying. “Those hunters were weak. I cleared the forest of incompetence.” 

“And now, you’re on the ground, helpless, stewing in your own stink,” the elf pointed out. “By your logic, I should cut your throat and end you now.” 

Graela groaned, face in the grass, then nodded. “I’ve failed. I only ask that you end my life painlessly, and do not gloat or make me suf-”

“Oh, shut it,” the elf said, slapping Graela’s backside in a way that was more humiliating than painful. “I’m not going to kill you, no matter how disgusting I think your…” she paused, long enough to glance back at the orc’s sagging diaper. “... methods are.” 

“The authorities, then?” Graela asked. “They’ll only execute me. It’s the same as murder by proxy.” 

“I think I’ll do something else.” The elf, holding Graela’s arms with one hand, reached into her bag with the other and came out holding a fifty foot hank of rope. Graela could only see it from the corner of her eye, but she felt the soft braids of thread on her wrists and knew what it was. 

Silk rope. Sturdy enough that she would never be able to break free, if it was tied tight enough. 

“Someone will find you, eventually,” the elf explained, wrapping the rope around Graela’s wrists. “If you’re lucky, it’ll be before you start to rash, but I’m personally hoping your backside is burning long before anyone manages to untie you.” 

Graela still couldn’t resist, even as her arms were bound all the way up to the elbows and the elf moved, releasing her pin and focusing on the legs. Another hank of rope was produced, enough to securely fasten Graela’s ankles together and then bind her legs all the way up to her knees. A final rope, then, was enough to pull back, tying Graela’s ankles to her wrists behind her back, leaving her so thoroughly hog-tied that she couldn’t have escaped even with a knife. 

The elf gave Graela one last slap on the back of her diaper, spreading the muck around a little more, and got to her feet. “Next time you consider attacking someone in the woods, remember this, and then reconsider. If I catch you out here again, I’ll make this seem like a fun picnic. Understand?” 

Graela grumbled, but nodded. The mercy was more humiliating than her bindings, or even her exposed diaper. Without a breeze, there was nothing to carry away the stink of her mess, and when she tried to wriggle against her restraints, all it accomplished was agitating the muck and smearing it around more. 

The elf smirked, turned, and walked away.