Once upon a time there lived a race of Giants. Now, you have probably read that Giants were slow-witted and cruel, and earned their fate of complete extinction at the hands of man. But history is written by the winners, and the fact of the matter is that they were as intelligent as men, and some were quite clever. What's more, all the countries of the Giants at one time followed the same faith, which, like Christianity, rewarded kindness and discouraged violence. Their society was much like that of humans in those days, and was in some ways less barbaric.

So, you ask, why did the men and women of old hate Giants, and pass such malicious lies and half-truths about them down the generations? There were five reasons. Firstly, there were some Giants who did kill humans, intentionally or, more commonly, accidentally.

Secondly, Giants' formidible size (the men stood three hundred feet tall, the women taller) and strength were enough to make all kingdoms who bordered on Giant territory fearful of their neighbors.

but that is an image.

Your post met my expectations.

Thirdly, in a time of devout Christianity and rigid values that are today considered misguided, Giants walked around stark naked. Though there were in those days dragons and other giant beasts that are now extinct, skinning them and sewing their hides together into clothes was still a troublesome process best avoided in a day and age when life meant spending most of one's waking hours toiling to stay alive and keep the fragile, primitive communities functioning. It was also of absolutely no practical use. For, you see, surface area in proportion to volume decreases as size increases, and as beasts grow bigger and bigger they have less and less skin from whence heat can escape. For this reason, Giants could go about their business unclothed in the dead of winter with only the most trivial of discomfort. Humans were quick to proclaim the Giants sinners for their shamelessness. After all, men whose shameful parts were comparable to church steeples, and women whose shameful parts were comparable to irrigation ditches and twin hilforts should certainly keep such abominations out of sight.

Fourthly, the respective roles of Giants and Giantesses brought the scorn of the humans, especially the Church. It was the Giantesses who built houses, brought home food, vanquished dragons, ruled Giant nations, and waged war on other Giant nations, while the Giants stayed home, raising children, making meals, and tending to the homes. Some even say Giantesses stood proudly as they made water while it was the Giants who squatted or sat. The Giantesses completely dominated their men, though not cruelly. They were generous when it came to rewarding handsomeness, kindness, faithfulness, piety, and other male virtues. But there was no question of which sex was in charge among the large folk, and this was also deemed a sin in the days when humans considered it proper for husbands to beat their wives to punish them for petty follies.

But fifthly, lastly, and most importantly was the one quality of the Giants that invited the horror, rage, contempt, and disgust of humans more than anything else, and it was something over which the poor behemoths had little control. The humans had only Nature to blame, for sending her shrill call to all beasts of all sizes. But they ignored this logic, and blamed the Giants for their collossal bodies' inevitable products. The ponds reeking of ammonia alone would have made many grumpy toward the Giants (to say nothing of the the opinions of those unfortunate enough to be in a forest that a Giant was using the way humans often use bushes). But there was worse that came of the Giants. Being so huge, they ate little for their sizes, tended towards slower motion, and all the organs inside them likewise moved at a relaxed pace (save their brains, which were often quicker than humans'). Weeks or months usually passed between the times a Giant went to stool. In this time, formidible mountains could form in their bellies, and even more formidible stenches could arise from such a long fermentation. The most giant dragons antiquity knew, even when they upset their bowels by eating too many knights in armor and too few damsels, never once let loose such a massive and noxious load as the typical Giant or Giantess enjoying his or her typical movement.

This didn't bother humans much when it was confined to the cathedral-sized commodes the Giants built for themselves (though a stench did penetrate for miles beyond the border of each and every Giant country). But giants had their traders, explorers, beast-vanquishers, and all the other human occupations that would routinely leave them hundreds of miles from their homelands when nature called. Leave them in lands inhabited or travelled by humans, even. It was these Giants' personal deeds that angered the humans so. Anyone who was around a place used as a privy by a Giant, or had a relative or friend who was, or had a relative or friend who had a relative or friend who was and so on and so forth, harbored a hatred of Giants somewhere in their heart. This was not something men and women in those times spoke of openly any more than they spoke of the products of their own bodies, but whispered word got around, and many proclaimed that the Giants deserved death, even if they wouldn't say the real main reason out loud. That's right, more than for any other cause, you have been told stories of wicked and stupid Giants simply because they dropped huge, smelly loads, the sight and smell of which your ancestors abhorred.

So it came to pass that some knights would avail themselves of opportunities to slay Giants. This would have been much more difficult had it not been for the Giants' faith. Their holy teachings had a list of actions forbidden for their cruelty. Among them were stepping on humans, sitting on humans, tearing down humans' buildings, and laying so much as one finger on a human or human-owned animal with violent intentions. While they obeyed these laws, the gods protected them. And most would rather die and fact the gods with a clear conscience than brush a knight trying to kill her off his steed. But for hundreds of years Giant-slaying went on from time to time without being a widespread phenomenon. This was ended by a Giantess named Bygrenn.

Poor Bygrenn, barely more than a girl, had fallen headlong in love with a young man she'd met at a celebration. He lived in a kingdom a thousand or so miles from her home, and she was making her first solo journey from her homeland to meet and court him. She was too embarrassed over her shy affections to let anyone accompany her to meet her love. As it happened, she became terribly lost. Being too young and sheltered to know how how severe the humans' hatred for her kind was, she took the sight of a human kingdom as a chance to ask for directions.

This was the Kingdom of Tazarel, a large island city surrounded by a tracts of farmland surrounded by a great lake with a retractable bridge (which had its use in slowing invaders). Bygrenn did know enough about humans to know what they would think of her nakedness. She sported only a belt with her sheathed sword and some sacks of supplies. So, always the polite lady, she took some skins from a pouch and did her best to tie up her jiggling chest. She then braided some cord, leaving a loop at the end, and tied it to the part of her belt opposite her sheath, so when she turned her belt ninety degrees and ran the sheath between her legs and into the loop it hung in a way that made her other womanly parts invisible from the ground. Then she daintily waded across the lake (which only came up to her ankles), careful not to make any splashes that would devastate the kingdom. She crossed the miles of country and came to the edge of the city part of Tazarel. By this time a crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle. Many had never seen a Giant or Giantess, and almost as many had never seen such a large percentage of a woman's body.

Pfft

TL;DR

Bygrenn introduced herself and politely asked the crowd how she might get to Colimuur (for that was the name of the kingdom she sought). All looked up in awe, and none answered. She asked again, admitting she was lost and choosing her words twice as sweetly. She heard nothing save for some shouts about how bad Giants were. She thought, "I should have known no one at the kingdom's edge would help me. That's where the peasants live, and probably few are educated well enough to know the location of Colimuur, and those that are are probably too ill-mannered to tell me. I shall go to the center of this kingdom, where the learned and well-groomed humans will have an answer for me."

And so she did, though her walk was stiff, and she gritted her parapet-sized teeth in discomfort. For, you see, Bygrenn had an even more urgent reason than her beloved's embrace to want to get to Colimuur as soon as possible. She had eaten a pine forest earlier that week, and all the fiber had suddenly caught up with her. The impatience of her burning heart was exceeded by the impatience of her aching bowels. She came to the town square, where she could at last walk without worrying about stepping on houses. She again introduced herself, then commented on how lovely the kingdom was, and how clever its builders had been in locating it on the protected island. Then she said she had lost her way and asked, in the most polite words she had ever been taught, how she could get to Colimuur, the location of her important business. She even tried to imitate a curtsy, so great was her politeness (although it was awkward, since she wasn't wearing a dress and in bending her knees she knocked down a pole that had been flying the kingdom's flag).

"The Giantess is so stupid she's lost her way!"

"So poor she can't afford clothes!"

"So clumsy she puts us all in danger!"

Such were the cries of the townspeople. Bygrenn almost cried as insult after insult was shouted up to her.

Her voice wavered as she asked, "Is there not anyone who can help me?"

Her body fidgeted as the weight shifted within her beautiful, trim stomach.

Just then, Kenrye, the king of Tazarel, arrived, surrounded by his armored bodyguards and trumpeters blowing a fanfare. For even he, locked within his cavernous castle and thick skull, could tell by now there was a spectacle outside.

"What's all the commotion?" he asked Bygrenn. She introduced herself again (skipping the curtsey this time), and commented on how wonderful, cleverly-designed, and well organized Kenrye's kingdom was, and expressed envy for those small enough to live in it. She apologized for getting lost in it and inconveniencing its inhabitants so very much. She then asked the mighty king if he could find a moment in his busy, important life to tell a poor lost Giant girl the location of Colimuur, which he, in his wisdom, would surely know. As this sugar-coated speech was halfway through her lovely ruby lips, a very different sound slipped from the opposite end of her digestive system. Another Giant may not even have noticed such a dainty toot from her round, tan rump, but it put the king's trumpeters to shame, made Bygrenn's vast and distant cheeks turn red like a sunset on the horizon, and made the yelling townspeople become suddenly quiet. Many wrinkled their noses, and some fled the area. This caused Bygrenn realize just how serious her internal situation was, and prompted her to tack more onto her speech.

"I deeply apoligize, for I have been such a foolish young Giantess that I did not take my turn in the privy before I embarked on this journey, and it is now of great necessity that I soon reach the commodes I will most certainly find when I enter Colimuur. Could you please, with great expediency, tell me where I can find this city, and I will inconvenience you no longer."

King Kenrye was not sympathetic.

"How dare you break wind in my Royal Courtyard! How dare you speak of such matters in public! How dare you bring your smelly, unsightly, half-naked Giantess body into such a fair kingdom! I should have my noble knights kill you for this! Or at least let them jam their lances under your filthy toenails!"

Bygrenn's stomach rumbled like a stampede of elephants, and she felt the boulder-hard end of her burden thrust itself upon the tender flesh that was nestled inside her shapely twin mountains. She pleaded one last time.

"I am greatly, greatly sorry I've created this situation by my carelessness! But you must tell me how to get to Colimuur or the situation will soon be even worse!"

"Get out of my sight now!"

With tears streaming down her face, Bygrenn tried to walk out of the kingdom. But she didn't get far without coming to an impasse. For she couldn't take another step anywhere without crushing one or more humans. They were dispersing, knowing the spectacle was over, but not fast enough. Finally, there was space enough to take another step, but then she had to worry about her next step. All the while the refuse she carried within her seemed to gain bulk. By the time the town square was half-cleared, she couldn't even take full steps without risking the loss of control. She inched along in giant baby steps, holding her stomach with one hand and holding her bottom with the other. The people down below laughed at her strange gait, and children were now throwing stones as her legs. But she was not yet desperate enough to surrender her last shred of dignity and ask to use the town square as a privy. She braved the pain, untying the cord so she could use it to bind her buttocks together as tightly as possible. It didn't help her plight, and it elicited the angry cries of the townspeople, because her womanhood was now free for all to see. Even the most innocent found it hard to ignore this, like an illicit eclipse happening above their heads. All the screaming and wailing and stone-pelting was too much. Bygrenn's concentration was broken, and the mass inside her thundered toward its exit.

She screamed, "Get out of the way or you'll die!" Though even young children knew the Giants' religious pacifism, all were afraid of such a threat uttered by a Giantess. Some were deafened, but got the message when they saw their fellow townspeople fleeing in terror.

Bygrenn untied the cord, shoved it in a pouch on her belt, and entered a squatting position. Those who knew what was happening prayed to God that it wouldn't. The noise from the humans was almost deafening, but it was all drowned out by the noise that came forth when Bygrenn's cheeks (the cheeks that weren't rosy) spread apart. Several people and horses fell unconscious at this gas eruption, but all had left the area directly under her. Bygrenn held onto her load as best she could until she was sure all people and animals were clear, and then she relaxed her enormous muscles. The monster she had been holding back (which was large enough to put many famous dragons to shame) slid out of her like a buttered boulder down a mountain. The crackling sound made as the mass exited her cavernous bowels sounded to the townpeople like a whole forest being snapped apart, and the roars of erupting gas could have been mistaken for a ferocious monster.

The earth shook as it crashed to its resting place. So great were the forces behind it that Bygrenn didn't even have to push until it was halfway out. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and gave a sigh of relief that echoed from distant mountains. She thanked the gods for that moment of easement. When she stood up, she saw a tract of compacted fertilizer that would have impressed even her fellow Giants. You see, Bygrenn was a growing girl with a robust physique. She'd eaten quite a lot, and her well-cared-for body had dealt with the dragon, herd of goats, two herds of elk, herd of brujulaxes, family of thunder-serpents, forest of pine trees, groves of broad-leaf trees, ponds full of fish, and hundreds of gallons of ganitong milk just how it should, leaving her with a healthy, well-formed, slick-surfaced movement colored the same chocolate brown as her short locks and shaped like a sausage devouring a carrot, spanning fifteen feet and stretching eighty (more had it been straight instead of curved), as well as a cubic acre or so of gas. Not only did the dropping stretch the entire length of the town square, but the soft, sharp end of it poked a ways down a street, and the hard, blunt end rested against a nearby pastry shop.

Though relieved beyond words, Bygrenn was also more humiliated than the time she'd sat upon a mountain that had turned out to be a guyser. She called out, "I'm really sorry," and sheepishly tiptoed away, accidentally letting loose one final jet of gas as she exited the city's limits. On the other side of the lake she washed her soiled bottom in the water. She actually had more inside her, which waited to be deposited in an outhouse in Colimuur. She felt embarrassed and guilty over the whole affair, but didn't think much of it afterward, and didn't tell any Giants of the awkward episode.

But those living in Tazarel thought very much of it very much. They couldn't even ignore it for the six weeks Bygrenn's product sat at the center of their kingdom, before the last chunks of it were chopped apart with shovels and axes and hauled away in carts. This was such an awful job that, even in the feudal system, those in the castle felt sorry for the lowly peasants who had to carry it out, and they ended up receiving fine new clothes for their troubles. And the smell still lingered. The middle third of the kingdom felt like they were in a privy day and night, and the remaining two thirds felt like they were waiting in line to use the privy, so foul was the odor left by Bygrenn's processed meals. Many had to be treated by doctors for the gas they inhaled that fateful day, and more stunk so badly they were made to stay in a temporary camp set up by the lake for several days, until the smell abated enough that their husbands, wives, and parents would let them back in their houses. Others had nightmares about the massive dump from above, or even the womanly parts that had been larger than the street they lived on. Children asked awkward questions, and the necessity to discuss matters of the privy led to more open discussion of human-sized functions, both of which Tazarel's religious officials exaggerated to the point that is sounded like the kingdom's morals had dropped quicker than Bygrenn's load. There was a great inconvenience in the daily business of the Kingdom, since no one would walk through the center of the town square, and many beasts of burden avoided the whole area.

King Kenrye proclaimed that all Giants and Giantesses were enemies of the Kingdom of Tazarel, and vowed to fund any expedition to kill one out of the royal treasury, effective until all surrounding Giant kingdoms were nothing but dust and stories, or until the princess stopped having nightmares about Giant excretion and needing her expensive silk sheets replaced, whichever came first.

And so it came to pass that knights from Tazarel killed any Giants they came upon that could not outsmart or escape them. It became a pastime, a way to prove manhood or to kill time. The Giants were naturally displeased at this. Candornon, Bygrenn's homeland, was hit the hardest.

The ruler of Candornon was the strong yet fair Queen Charklaa. At three hundred and fifty feet she was tall even for a Giantess. Unlike all other Giants and Giantesses, she wore something on her person that served no practical purpose: her crown. It was the size of a baron's manor, made of silver, contrasting her golden hair, and had thousands of jewels of all colors affixed to it, which were to her the size of poppy seeds. This was her only clothing unless she had need to carry weapons.

She dealt with the problem in every way she could think of, guided in part by the gods' signs and messages. Under her, Candornon developed better defenses. She made new laws that reduced the travellers outside the kingdom to the minimum that was necessary. Together with her seven favored warriors, she devised new methods of surviving humans' trickery and attacks, none of which broke the gods' laws, which were taught to every Giant. The Giants' deaths were reduced, and she was praised, but she was not satisfied, because the problem persisted, and would never end until the humans changed their ways.

Years went by. Charklaa, herself a formidible warrior, finally ventured to Tazarel in an attempt to negotiate. The knights left her alone, for they always preyed on commoners or lesser warriors among the Giants. But the negotiation got her nowhere, and she didn't even learn the cause of the humans' malice, since it was now again taboo to mention such things.

The situation was at a standstill until a knight could be captured without breaking the gods' laws. He told of the pile Bygrenn had left, and the hatred it had precipitated. Charklaa summoned Bygrenn, who was now married to her Colimuuran sweetheart and was one of the queen's warriors, and told her of this. Bygrenn wept at the trouble she had caused, for her heart was still soft. But Charklaa told her to be strong and unforgiving, for she had been in a situation that could have befallen any noble Giantess, and had acted the only way she could. But knowing for what the humans of Tazarel held a grudge could be of use. Charklaa sent Bygrenn to Tazarel, where she apologized for the deed she had done, and offered any compensation the king could name in order to earn forgiveness, even her own life.

But Kenrye, who was still king, shouted from the roof of his castle, "Your death alone cannot bring forgiveness. Every filthy, sinful Giant and Giantess who walks the Earth would have to follow you in death, and even then we would curse their ghosts for what you did."

Bygrenn returned to Candernon and told Queen Charklaa what had transpired. Charklaa stayed up into the late hours of the night searching her mind for a solution and praying to the gods for guidance. She fell asleep at her throne, still deep in thought, and when she awoke she badly needed to make water. She knew this was a message from the gods. After emptying herself in a chamber pot made of enough metal to suit and arm fifty knights, she summoned her seven favored warriors (of which Bygrenn was the youngest), and told them of the plan the gods had made her think of.

Later that morning Charklaa and her warriors arrived at the lake that encapsulated Tazarel. Some thought it odd that their sheaths held no swords, but instead long tubes that looked to be made from many tree trunks fitted together. A servant who was on the castle roof airing out the princess' bedsheets saw them and informed the king immediately. He arrived, flanked by knights, at the retractable bridge.

Charklaa spoke. "Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will drain your lake, and you will be without defense or food."

The king shouted up at the naked female mountains, covering his eyes with his hand so he didn't see anything that might make him feel dissatisfied with his queen. "You may tower over my castle, but your brains are no bigger than those of childen. You don't realize the lake is a mere precaution. My men can fend off any attack, with or without its impediment. And we have crops to harvest, lifestock to slaughter, and food that can be imported from our allies. We can survive without fish."

"Ladies," Charklaa said (for this is how Giants addressed noble warriors), "assume your positions." And at that the knights spread out to either side of her, encircling the lake. They then drew the giant hollow tubes from their sheaths, knelt before the lake, thrust the tubes into the water, and placed the other ends in their mouths. Their queen did the same, but kept her mouth free to speak to the king.

"This is your last chance to save your lake. Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will drink up your greatest defense and swallow up every last one of the fish that feeds your kingdom."

"Never!" The king replied.

And so they did. In less than a minute there was nothing but thick, muddy water at the bottom of the lakebed, and the debris of would-be conquerers. It made the Giantesses quite full.

"You fools!" The king shouted. "You've done very little to hurt us, and now you've nothing left to bargain with, since you drank the whole lake, and any threat of violence would be idle."

"You have another chance," Charklaa said, wiping algae from her full, rose-colored lips. "Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will do more tomorrow morning."

"What more could you possibly do?" asked King Kenrye scornfully.

Charklaa just casually flicked her golden hair from her eyes, sheathed her straw, and said, almost in a whisper (but still very loud to the humans), "Maybe we'll give you back your lake." Then all eight of them departed. It is said that you could hear the sloshing of the lake in their stomachs in every part of the town as they walked off.

The kingdom wasn't disheartened. The king's good speaking skills convinced his subjects that food and safety were as plentiful as ever. The children had fun playing in the exposed lakebed, and much of the debris was usable by the king's army and the many amateur Giant-slayers. But Charklaa's last words puzzled him. He asked, Jeressu, his wise man, for interpretations. Jeressu could think of only one, and told it to him. Kenrye not only dismissed it, but chastized Jeressu for having such a sick thought.

Everyone in the castle slept well, except for Jeressu, who was troubled by Charklaa's final words, and the princess, who still had nightmares about being under Bygrenn.

The next morning those at the eastern edge of Tazarel saw Charklaa and her seven knights approaching, exactly the same as the day before. Only this day they weren't armed at all, and they walked differently. Charklaa's gait was still proud, but it was awkward. The other warriors's legs all moved stiffly as they walked, except for the shortest one, who was walking in almost a zigzag, and hopping and skipping as much as she walked.

King Kenrye, as usual, was deeply absorbed in important royal matters and didn't notice the Giantess' approach. This morning he was lecturing the princess on how princes would be more interested in her if she could overcome her bedtime problem when he noticed it get dark suddenly. He scaled the spiral staircase up the tower that led to the castle roof, and almost fell back down the stairs when he saw eight bare female bottoms looming over the castle. The Queen Charklaa and her warriors were all equidistantly positioned around the castle and were squatting over the roof. He was speechless, so Charklaa had no trouble voicing her demands. She looked over her shoulder at the crown she saw beyond her crevice, and said, "Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will inundate your castle from our bladders, and everyone inside it and around its foundation will drown."

People began to flee the castle and town square in panic. Women fainted at the shameless display. Boys looking out the castle windows learned new things. The princess screamed and needed a new gown. But the king was steely, and shouted to his subjects to be the same. "They are bluffing!" he said. He ordered his men to arrest anuone trying to flee the town square, and kill anyone trying to flee the castle. Feet all around stopped moving. The only thing in motion was Bygrenn, who fidgeted uneasily. Then Kenrye shouted up at the conglomeration of rear ends, "You must think me as stupid as a Giant if you expect me to fear an action your gods forbid."

Charklaa corrected him. "You see, our gods forbid us from stepping on humans, sitting on humans, tearing down humans' buildings, and laying so much as one finger on a human or human-owned animal with violent intentions. But never once has any god forbid is from drowning humans by making water."

"I don't believe it," the king shouted.

"Ladies," Charklaa said, "prepare to release your torrents." With that, each Giantess put her fingers on her nether lips, and spread open the path leading to their floodgates.

"Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will drown you all in what has become of your lake."

"I don't believe it," the king yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Hold your positions, ladies," Charklaa said, and she let a few drops flow forth from herwomanly fountain. They hit the castle roof like golden cannonballs, knocking masonry away as they impacted.

"This is your last chance to save your life and the lives of your people. Call off all your knights and promise no more Giant-slayings immediately, or we will all breathe a sigh of relief and you will breathe your last."

"I agree," the King said, now convinced. The Giantesses all stood up straight, and Bygrenn immediately pressed her hands deeply into the grassy hill between her legs, which she crossed once she could do it without crushing people.

"You've chosen wisely," Charklaa said. Charklaa and her warriors had to relinquish their liquid burdens somewhere, and they chose the lakebed. There was a violent hissing from all directions, the likes of which the people of Tazarel had never heard before or since. Some said it was like a many waterfalls, others like a nest of giant serpents. At any rate, the lake was mostly refilled, and the steam (for it was a chilly morning) was such that the countryside and outskirts of the kingdom were enshrouded in fog for hours.

But Bygrenn did not find ease in the lake on that day. She was much closer to losing her water than the rest, and couldn't walk to the lake, for fear of losing control. She hopped and danced around in pain, holding herself tightly and shaking the ground with her quick footfalls. It seemed disaster was imminent, but Jeressu the wise man saved the day. He ordered every scrap of hay in the kingdom to be brought to the town square and made into a giant pile. it was completed just in time, for no sooner had the hay been gathered together than Bygrenn's bladder began to leak, and large explosions of mud and bits of cobblestone resulted from the honey-colored rain. Jeressu ordered her to sit on the hay, and she lost control the second her bottom rested on the comfortable Giant-sized cushion. It absorbed every drop. The townspeople all let out a sigh of relief as the flood was averted, but you wouldn't have heard it for Bygrenn's sigh of relief.

And on that day, the king made Giant-slaying a capital offense, and no Knight of Tazarel ever slew another Giant. The lake, which now looked to be made of molten gold and smelled of a chamber pot in need of emptying, proved useful. Not long after, the army of another kingdom tried to attack Tazarel, but were reluctant to take boats across the lake, deterred by the thick ammonia smell. They were vanquished as a result, and, on Jeressu's urging, King Kenrye made an agreement with the Giants of [name] whereby some would occasionally come by and use the lakebed as a privy, keeping it disagreeable to attackers. This was not so bad for the kingdom, because miles of country separated the lake from the kingdom proper, so only a few farmers had to experience the odor, and only during planting and harvesting seasons. Those who crossed the retractable bridge in and out of Tazarel were likewise subjected, though only briefly. The bridge, in fact, had to be covered with its own walls and ceilings of glass to keep the bad air out but still allow the breathtaking view of the island, and in time sweet-smelling flowers were planted inside, making it quite pleasant for most of the year.

In exchange for the Giants' useful gifts, the king started a campaign to abolish Giant-slaying throughout the lands. He refused to export arms and armor to kingdoms that didn't forbid Giant-slaying, and the religious missionaries of Tazarel preached far and wide the message that it is honorable and Christian to love one's Giant neighbors and forgive the unpleasantness they sometimes cause.

And everyone in this story lived happily ever after. Some of them even went on to star in their own Fairy tales (although the story of the Princess and the Pee came to be distorted beyond recognition in its retellings). However, several generations later, a king called off the kingdom's deal with the Giants, and the lake again became crystal clear and supported fish. The kingdom was successfully invaded, and everyone who wasn't killed served a foreign king for the rest of their lives. The Giants also died out several generations down the line, because hatred of them eventually escalated and those who fought back with violence lost the protection of the gods and were overcome. The Giants who tried to defend themselves with cunning, negotiation, and excretion were overcome later, but did not lose the gods' favor. They're now in a wonderful place where no humans complain about where they void their bladders and bowels. The end.

It probably sucks, not gonna read

You thought that was all, didn't you?
(Assuming, of course, you didn't just say "tl;dr" and skip this, which is the sissy way out.)

THERE'S A SEQUEL:

The original and true story of

THE PRINCESS AND THE PEE

A Fairy tale

Fuck me, this story was intriguing and hilarious in turns.

+100 internets to you for bring it to me, OP. Link to where you found it?

Now that you've heard the story of Tazarel and the Giantess it is time you heard the story of Tazarel's most constantly embarrassed inhabitant. I fear I am not able to tell you the young lady's name, for she is remembered simply as "Wet-Sheets."

Wet-Sheets wasn't always called by that name. She was the daughter of King Kenrye and Queen Shellna, who also had three sons. Now, you have certainly known many princesses, and you can substitute the aspect and persona of nearly every one for that of this princess, for she was much like all the others. However, there are two things you must know about this particular princess for the story's sake. One is that she was quite badly spoiled, the other is that she was quite easily embarrassed.

Her cheeks turned red every time she was seen to take the daintiest trip, or heard to produce the daintiest cough, or discovered herself to have the tiniest hair out of place. She never went outside on windy days, for fear her dress would fly up and her panties be revealed. She always refused any meal with beans, for fear their effects on her body would be heard or smelled. And, most importantly, when she had need to go to the place all ladies must go, princesses or otherwise, she would always excuse herself to get a drink of water, or wash her hands, or refasten her hair ribbon, or some other dainty excuse, never admitting what she really needed to do.

Such things were not uncommon in those times. It was not considered proper to mention certain things in public, and children in those days were beaten to punish accidents during potty training, fostering this sort of shame. But Wet-Sheets took it to her own absurd level. Her trips to the necessarium (for that is what the indoor privy was called in those days) were conducted at night with the utmost stealth. She wouldn't even permit herself a candle, for fear its light would wake someone and alert them to her activity. During the day she used her chamber pot, with her bedroom door locked. She learned as a little girl how to relieve herself so silently that even someone with an ear to her door would hear nothing. When not in use, her pot was always hidden in one of several artful places, unknown even to her servants. She would stealthily move it to another room to be found and emptied, so no one could ever say for sure that it was her who had used it, or if she ever used a chamber pot at all. When on voyages away from the castle, she would even will her bowels not to move until she was back home, and would concoct the most ingenious ways of relieving her bladder without notice. And the king and queen would grant whatever she required in her mission to conceal the functions of her body.

But all this changed that day the Giantess Bygrenn came to Tazarel. For poor Wet-Sheets was in the town's square and had barely been pulled clear of the area when the Giantess unburdened herself. Her heart almost stopped dead when that catastrophe occurred, and the thought of her glorious young life being extinguished in such an unpleasant and embarrassing way hung with her even longer than the smell Bygrenn discharged. After her clothes were burned and she had bathed and anointed herself from head to foot with the finest perfume, she retired early, fatigued by the stressful events, and quickly fell asleep.

That night she dreamed of her near-death, and awoke with a scream. She screamed again when she discovered her bed was soaking wet, and not from her sweat, a spilled drink, or a leak in the castle roof.

There was no way to hide this, for her fine silk sheets were ruined and would have to be replaced, and her frilly white nightgown and frillier white panties would need to be washed. So the servants summoned knew what had happened, and the princess tearfully confessed to the king and queen, lest they hear a distorted version of the events from the servants. Kenrye was a short-tempered and vindictive king, and this made him very angry. Not at the princess, but at the Giantess who had given her the nightmare, who he already wanted dead, along with all other Giants and Giantesses.

But everyone was willing to forget this one little mess (except for the princes, who availed themselves of every opportunity to tease their sister, being jealous of the privileged treatment she always received). But on the next night she had the same nightmare, waking just in time to feel the spasms of her bladder and the growing warm spot on her bed and garments, which were again replaced and washed. The third night was just the same, a vision of being under Bygrenn as she relieved her crushing burden, then golden spurting the princess could not force to subside until there was no more within her to release, then blushes and awkward conversations and teasing and laundering. This continued night after night, and soon the princess' brothers were calling her "Wet-Sheets."

But things weren't miserably humiliating for poor Wet-Sheets until the day the king declared his wish to see all Giants slain. You see, Wet-Sheets had just come of age, and a fabulous celebration was going to be held, attended by every eligible prince in the nearby friendly kingdoms, for them to meet, dance with, and compete for the affection of that adorable golden-haired daughter of Kenrye and Shellna who had recently blossomed into a gorgeous woman.

Since so many members of royalty, as well as the knights guarding them, were in Tazarel for that event, the king thought it the perfect time to make his opinions and policies known. Though a terrible day for Giants, Wet-Sheets was expecting nothing but the greatest of delights that day, to the point that she had forgotten her bedtime problem. But she blushed so violently she nearly passed out when the king casually mentioned that she was one of the many Tazarellians who suffered nightmares of the Bygrenn incident, even going so far as to say he would be satisfied when the Giants' threat was so diminished that she would stop wetting the bed out of dread.

The mortified princess was not courted very enthusiastically that evening, and giggles and snickers seemed to be everywhere. From that point on, Wet-Sheets had the greatest of trouble procuring a prince. It seemed each and every one knew of her nocturnal misfortunes, and those who didn't already learned of it when they travelled to Tazarel to court her. And one can scarcely blame them for not wanting her hand. For who, royal or otherwise, wants to spend every night with a woman who wets the bed? Even the most kindly and romantic princes never said more to her than that they'd eagerly await the news that she had overcome her problem.

Meanwhile, compromises were being made. As much as the queen and especially the king wanted Wet-Sheets to have all she desired, they were forced by practicality to deprive her of the expensive silk sheets she always used to sleep in, and substitute something that could be easily washed. She was also coaxed into sleeping in the nude, so no clothes needed daily washing. Of course the sensible thing to do would have been for her to wear diapers to bed each night, but that just wouldn't be fitting for a princess, now would it?

And everyone searched for a solution to the problem. Try as she liked, Wet-Sheets could not overcome her problem. She tried drinking less water after dinner, and using her chamber pot immediately before bed. She tried training herself to wake up in the middle of the night and use it again. She tried training her bladder to hold fast when she was exposed to very frightening things. She tried thinking nice thoughts as she lay in bed to prevent the nightmares. She even tried laying on the ground near horses and looking up at them as they moved their bowels, to desensitize her of her fear of Bygrenn's bowel movement. And after understanding was reached between Tazarel and the Giants, Bygrenn came to speak with Wet-Sheets and calm her fear of her. Doctors, magicians, and wise men came from far and wide to try to solve her problem (for there was a reward). But none of these things did more than occasionally reduce the amount the princess unleashed at night. It seemed she was destined to endure soaked bedclothes for all her days.

Almost as bad as the wet mornings was the mockery she received. First from her brothers, then from the servants in the castle, and finally from her subjects. It got to where it wasn't even considered rude or disrespectful to call the princess "Wet-Sheets," and many children thought it was her given name. On the day the princess realized she heard "Wet-Sheets" more than her name, she whined to her father to do something about the problem. He agreed it was unacceptable for a member of his royal family to receive so little respect. So, the next time he addressed his subjects, he promised fines for anyone who so much as mentioned the princess' bedwetting in any context. This was later increased to time in the dungeon when the situation didn't improve fast enough for the princess' liking. In time she heard only her name, title, and other proper forms of address. Although she suspected the nickname "the Golden Lady" didn't refer to her hair, she let it go by. And even the servants who had to deal with her laundry feared explicit mention of what made it wet, making only vague references to the princess' "misfortunes." The silence meant that no more could be summoned to try remedies on her.

But even if people didn't say they knew she wet the bed, Wet-Sheets still suspected they knew. For that reason she still never went to any social events she wasn't forced into by her parents, because any princes she met were sure to know what she did at night, and knowing that they knew made her uncomfortable. It looked like she would never marry, not just for her nightly misfortunes, but for her conduct.

Before long her brothers married. Her middle brother married the princess of Razgella and became the true leader of that kingdom as its nominal king spent his remaining years in rest. Her youngest brother married the princess of Flinnerra and inherited that throne upon the death of her parents. And her eldest brother married the daughter of a renowned knight as part of a bargain to get him to lead King Kenrye's army. He was due to inherit the throne of Tazarel, but was at this time on a honeymoon with his bride which was going into its third year. And so Wet-Sheets was left as the only offspring of Kenrye and Shellna still living in the castle. It looked as though she would always remain there.

But a new hope showed itself when a masked ball was due to be held in the nearby kingdom of Andive. The princess thought, "This is a chance for me to win a husband at last! For all I have to do is capture his heart before he knows who I am, and when my mask has come off he will be so smitten with me already that he will ignore my reputation and make me his bride." And so she went to the ball in a wonderful blue and black dress that made her look like a swallowtail butterfly, with her pretty features covered by an almost-as-pretty butterfly-shaped mask.

There were many eligible young men of nobility at the ball, any one of whom would have been a fine catch for a princess as unpopular as Wet-Sheets. But Lady Luck was with her that day, for the beautiful blue butterfly caught the eye of a kind young man who those in the habit of attending royal functions easily recognized as Rouark, the prince who was hosting the ball. When Wet-Sheets danced with him she fell instantly and deeply in love with him. Then she had to lay down, because the wine she had had was too much for a young lady whose body wasn't accustomed to drink. She was shown to a guest bedroom where she could relax until her dizziness faded. It was only then that she overheard people talking of her and him, and learned the important name of her beloved. Though she didn't mean to, she fell into a sound sleep once she was on this comfortable bed.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she was awakened by the familiar nightmare of Bygrenn. She screamed, arousing the attention of Prince Rouark, who had been waiting outside for his favorite dance partner to be back on her feet. She screamed again when she saw that the wine she had been served hours earlier had been transformed into a stain on the prince's guest bed. She cried, "Not again!" and rushed by the prince, not permitting him to say a word to her, and ran out of the castle, hoping no one noticed that a patch on the back of her blue gown was now a glistening green. For this reason she was gone by the time the masks came off at midnight, and no one could tell the prince the identity of the enchanting young lady in blue who had captured his heart. Wishing to save the guest, whoever she might be, from embarrassment, one of the servants told everyone he had vexed her by spilling a drink on her gown, but Rouark knew what had really happened. And yet he loved her still, for some wet bedsheets can never sully the image of one's true love.

Thus was the story of how Wet-Sheets' only remit from her self-imposed exile ended in tragedy. And yet her feeling of love for Prince Rouark was so great that she was happy despite her humiliation in his presence and the remote chances of her ever seeing him again. Everyone noticed the change in her brought about by love, most of all the servants, who noticed her sheets remained dry night after night, for the princess' dreams were now of Rouark and matters of the heart, not Bygrenn and matters of the colon. She went back to wearing a nightgown to bed, and there was even talk of her having silk sheets again. The king and queen were happy to see the change in their daughter, and the end of a need for changes to her sheets, but still held little hope of her marrying. For she was so lost in daydreams of Prince Rouark that she had no desire to give any other prince, nobleman, or knight the slightest flirtatious glance nor the singular obligatory dance. Yet all the same she made no attempt to contact Prince Rouark and forbade anyone else doing so on her behalf, such was the extent of her abashedness. She believed that, if Rouark was truly the great lover her heart told her he was, he would seek her out and find her, despite not knowing her name or country of origin.

What no one knew was that exactly that was happening. Rouark, sick with love for the sweet, shy young lady he'd met at the ball, was committed to finding her, or else spending all the days of his life searching. And he'd devised a plan that should be the envy of most any Fairy tale prince. He went from kingdom to kingdom, courting eligible princesses without meeting them. He would tell their parents that he was looking for a true princess, and he had a test to which he subjected each one. He told them, "As you may know, a true princess is so delicate and refined that even in sleep she has a special princessly way of conducting herself, one which is unmistakably visible in the wrinkles and creases of the bedclothes she has been sleeping in." And so he would ask for the slept-in sheets of princesses the morning of his second day in each kingdom.

True, many a king and queen thought this an odd way of choosing a bride, but, since Rouark was such a strong, valiant, and kind-hearted prince, and heir to such a rich and prosperous kingdom, they were eager for their daughters to marry him, however he might choose them. But many might have been less favorable had they known the real reason he examined each princess' bedsheets: He was looking for wet spots. For he knew but two things about his mysterious beloved: that she was a princess and that she wet the bed. But alas, each sheet he examined was dry as a bone, and in time he feared he would never again meet the bedwetting princess.

He came to Tazarel to test the king and queen's eligible daughter. He met with them alone, for in those days it was common for a young lady's marriage to be discussed without her presence. They were optimistic, being convinced that their daughter was the most ideal princess of them all, and they unhesitantly permitted her sheets to be put to the test.

OH GAWD DIS MAKE MAH DING-A-LING-A-LING RING RING RING.

And so it was agreed. When Wet-Sheets was told about this she didn't mind, but she wasn't very interested, since she hadn't met the prince and didn't know he was one she'd danced with. The one person who made that connection was Mennra, a visiting queen from a neighboring kingdom and the wife of Wet-Sheets' eldest brother. She was staying in the guest bedroom next to the one Prince Rouark was staying in, and that night she overheard him talking to himself (as people in Fairy tales often do).

"I grow weary of this routine," he said, "but I must keep it up until I find the divine young lady I met that night at the ball. It is troubling to lie to so many kings and queens, but how can I tell them the truth? They'd think me mad if they knew I was searching for a princess whose sheets are wet in the morning."

Upon hearing this, Mennra realized he was looking for the princess who resided in this castle, for she knew all about Wet-Sheets' reputation from her husband. She slept soundly in the conviction that the unfortunate princess would finally marry a prince, and a fine one at that. But the next day she found Wet-Sheets weeping in her bedchamber. She had met the prince just in time to be rejected by him on account of her sheets, and had recognized him. She wondered what about the way she slept could make her so inadequate in the eyes of the man she loved. Despite being clever at hiding her answers to Nature's call, Wet-Sheets was not the most quick-witted of princesses, and didn't realize what Prince Rouark was really looking for. Queen Mennra tried to comfort her, and told her she didn't understand why he had passed her over, since he was looking for a princess who wet the bed, which Wet-Sheets clearly did. You see, Mennra was more open about these things than most people in those days were, and had no trouble speaking candidly of the princess' bedwetting.

"I don't wet the bed," Wet-Sheets snapped, "and you owe the kingdom a sum of gold for mentioning that I wet the bed." "You confuse me," said Mennra. Do you wet the bed or not?" "It is against the royal law to make claims about the princess' bladder control," the princess said. But Mennra would have none of this. She said, "If you make an exception for me, I will do what I can to help you win Prince Rouark's hand." And so there was an outpouring of facts from the princess as profuse as her outpourings of liquid. "I wet the bed every night for years over nightmares about the day Bygrenn came to Tazarel, and I even wet Prince Rouark's guest bed when I was at his ball, but now I never wet the bed because I dream about him and not Bygrenn." "This is of no trouble at all," Mennra said. "You need only to dry your eyes and tell Prince Rouark of your past wetness. He will see that you are the princess he fell in love with and marry you." Wet-Sheets responded by saying, "That solution was too easy. Our agreement is void."

And so Wet-Sheets went to Prince Rouark with her story. But the prince was skeptical. If the princess' sister had heard all he had said, what was to stop her from lying about being the bedwetting princess? She could say nothing that would convince him she was the masked woman at the ball.

So Wet-Sheets told him anyone in the kingdom could vouch for the fact that she used to wet the bed. She asked a servant who was passing by. Fearing punishment, the servant said that as far as he knew the princess had never had a single accident since she was being potty trained. So the princess took the prince outside and asked the guards at the entrance to the castle if they had heard she wet the bed. They said they knew nothing of such a thing. So she took him beyond the castle and asked a peasant about the gossip about her bedwetting. She wouldn't admit she had heard or said anything of the sort. And the same was true of the next peasant Wet-Sheets asked, and the one after that. All lied out of fear of punishment. Exasperated, the princess took the prince back to the castle and asked her own parents to tell the prince the truth about her bedwetting. Both pretended she never had a wet night, not wishing the prince to know of this flaw.

Finally, she asked Queen Mennra, "Is it not true that I used to wet the bed uncontrollably? Is it not true that the king of Flinnerra, my brother, used to tease me about this very thing?" But Mennra, still bitter over the princess rudely fining her, denied everything.

And so Prince Rouark had no choice but to doubt Wet-Sheets. But his heart was moved by her apparent sincerity, as well as her beauty, and so he gave her a second chance. He said he would examine her sheets again the next morning. But, since he suspected trickery, he would have to watch her sleep, to assure that nothing was amiss. Wet-Sheets eagerly agreed. But how was she to wet the bed again, since she hadn't for some time? She couldn't think of a plan, so she asked Mennra for one. Mennra agreed to help Wet-Sheets procure a husband, after the princess had apologized and paid back the money Mennra had had to pay for mentioning her bedwetting.

The queen's solution was to make Wet-Sheets a little tipsy with wine. If she was lucky, this wine would follow the example of the wine she had drunk at the ball, and end up on the sheets. Now, young princesses were only allowed to have wine on special occasions, but with Mennra's help Wet-Sheets was able to procure some, and was happily dizzy when she went to bed under Rouark's watchful eye.

Unfortunately, her dreams were about being dizzy with love, and there was no room for terror. Wet-Sheets woke up with an aching bladder, an aching head, and dry sheets. After the prince had left her bedchamber so she could dress (and use her chamber pot), she chastised Mennra for putting her to bed with such a bad plan. Now the prince was gone from her life forever. She demanded Mennra pay back the fine that had twice been lifted, and pay another fine for supplying a young person with forbidden drink. Mennra was furious, and told her the prince was lucky to escape marrying such a cruel and fickle woman.

A little while later, Prince Rouark approached Wet-Sheets, and told her of his lingering doubts. He said she was awarded one last chance to prove she was the bedwetter. The princess was overjoyed, and ran about the castle madly in search of Mennra. When she found the queen she pleaded with her to help her to wet the bed that night. But Queen Mennra had had enough of the her sister in law's caprice. She told her her only hope was to use her own cleverness. "But I have no cleverness!" Wet-Sheets protested. She offered Mennra all manner of things in exchange for her help. Money. Jewelry. Treasure. Clothes. Persuading her father to change laws. But Mennra steadfastly refused, for she no longer believed any promise Wet-Sheets made. And so the princess sulked off to think of her own plan.

Shortly after, as she was eating breakfast, Mennra thought the matter over more thoroughly, and realized that she had been much the same as Wet-Sheets before she had married: a spoiled, egotistical, petty, immature little princess. She came to understand that the only way Wet-Sheets was ever going to become a mature woman with a sense of her own place was by leaving the castle of her doting parents to live a proper adult life, facing the responsibilities of a queen. And the only way this would happen was if she married a prince. And the only prince she would accept was Rouark. And so Mennra resolved to make that happen. But she would do it without the princess' knowledge.

As was usually the case, the entry of breakfast into one end of Queen Mennra brought about the exit of other mass from the other end. And so she gathered up some kerchiefs and a book from her guest room and embarked upon the same trip she made each day. In the necessarium, she placed the kerchiefs around the hole on the seat, lest her royal rump touch the cold stone. Then she pulled down her expensive and ornate panties, lifted up her more expensive and more ornate dress, sat on the nest of warm cloth, and had a full and satisfying bowel movement while reading the Fairy tales of an earlier age. When she was done, she took a handful of soft hay from the finely crafted vase by her right hand (you would have found such a vase in any castle's necessarium in those days), wiped herself clean, threw the hay down the hole, put her panties and dress back in place, gathered up and pocketed the kerchiefs, and went off in search of a plan for Wet-Sheets' future. This isn't important enough to mention, you say? I tell you it will be later on, so remember each detail.

Though much more clever than Wet-Sheets, Queen Mennra was no sage, and so she consulted Jeressu, King Kenrye's wise man. She asked, "For some reason a person I know must wet the bed tonight. She used to with great frequency due to a nightmare, but now she has only the dreams of a lovestruck girl. What shall I do to make tonight the exception to her dry nights?"

Jeressu was, of course, wise, and he knew who she was talking about, and could make enough connections to know what the situation was with Prince Rouark. But he continued as if he didn't know, lest someone overhear him and he be punished for mentioning the princess' former misfortunes. He said, "If the same nightmare of old were to recur, it would probably have the same effect on her bladder. Dreams come from the thoughts we have during the day, especially just before we sleep, so making her think about what caused the nightmare would be the most likely way to make it happen again."

Queen Mennra thanked the wise man for his services, and went into the city surrounding the castle to put into action the plan that had instantly formed in her mind. There she found a skilled artist. Knowing what large payments he could get from a queen, he gladly complied to any request she made. She asked him to paint the scene that gave the princess nightmares, and to do it on the largest canvas that could fit into the princess' bedchamber, so it could be hung on the ceiling above her bed. That way she would be forced to stare at it as she went to sleep, and would have dreams inspired by it.

She invited the artist into the castle, and, in a formerly empty room, he set to work actualizing her request. The door to the princess' bedchamber was measured, and hooks were screwed into the appropriate places in the ceiling for the painting to hang from. The painting took some hours, but when it was done it was quite realistic. It was a view upward from the courtyard Bygrenn had made her massive mess in, with Bygrenn's colossal form squatting directly above the viewer. It was an impressive piece of workmanship, but Mennra was not satisfied. She didn't think Bygrenn looked like a real nude woman squatting. There seemed to be something wrong about her position, and not all the details were there. She wasn't at all convinced it would properly remind Wet-Sheets.

The artist explained why. He confessed that he was fortunate enough to have not been nearby when Bygrenn released her burden, and had to imagine the scene. He also had to imagine what a nude woman looked like when she squatted to relieve her bowels, having never partaken of such a spectacle. "Have you no wife?" Mennra asked. "I have," replied the artist, now annoyed. "But she is hardly wont to have me observe her while she squats to answer Nature's call. I could only paint a better painting than this if a model would pose for me in that position in the nude, which will surely never happen."

But Queen Mennra was so determined that Wet-Sheets wed Prince Rouark that she asked a servant to bring a her a looking glass, set it on the floor, took off all her royal habiliments, and squatted over it as if she had a past meal to release. She urged the artist to hurry, as they were short on time. And so the awestruck artist repainted his painting, using the reflection of Mennra as the model for Bygrenn. After half the time it had taken to paint the first painting he told her the second was done, and she put her clothes back on and looked at it. It was twice as good as the first, because he'd had less time to overthink the composition, and Bygrenn's pose and details were more realistic. But it still didn't look quite right, and Mennra still wasn't convinced it would frighten Wet-Sheets.

She and the artist talked about the matter for some time, and the problem presently became clear. The pose wasn't entirely authentic, since it was based on Mennra, who was merely squatting, and not squatting in preparation to ease her bowels. Mennra asked the artist to remedy this. He said, "I could only paint a better painting than this if a model would hold her pose in the state of very nearly answering Nature's call in the nude, which will surely never happen."

But Queen Mennra was so determined that Wet-Sheets wed Prince Rouark that she would willingly assume this position. But she had a problem (as you must know if you remember what I told you a moment ago).

But she wouldn't be defeated so easily. She told one of the castle's servants that she would take her dinner in this room, and asked to be brought a dozen bran muffins, a whole loaf of rye bread, a big bowl of salad, a big bowl of oatmeal, a pitcher of Oriental tea, a glass of vegetable oil, and a prune pie. The cooks and servants complied with this strange order, and soon the queen was filled to her fullest with the sort of foods and drinks that do not remain in the body for long. After she could move again, she went running around the outside of the castle until she felt the urge she had waited for. Then she came back to the chamber where the artist was, took off her clothes once more, and again positioned herself above the looking glass on the floor. Doing so, she went into the motions she would if she were voiding her full bowels, but froze in position before letting anything out. Then she told the artist to hurry.

After half the time it had taken to paint the second painting he told her the third was done. And not a moment too soon, for, as he spoke these words, Mennra uncontrollably finished what she had meant only to begin. A soft and slippery cord slithered out of her. Having no choice, she put all restraint aside, and a thicker mass transformed itself from a discomfort in her belly into a mess on the looking glass via the open doorway between her buttocks, which came to look like two rolls with chocolate frosting. The artist brought her a cloth with which to restore immaculate purity to her behind, and she dressed and looked at the painting.

It was twice as good as the one before it, and so wonderfully terrifying that Mennra gasped when she saw it. There was no question that this was the ideal remedy for the princess' dry sheets. The artist was paid generously for each painting, and for the inconvenience, and for having to gaze upon a nude woman besides his wife, and for having to watch a woman go to stool. He thanked the queen enthusiastically and returned to his home happy. A servant was summoned to clean and take away the looking glass, and Mennra set about personally putting the painting in its place.

Unfortunately, Wet-Sheets had already gone to bed (after drinking two dozen cups of tea), and was asleep. Mennra decided to hang the painting anyway, and Prince Rouark's gaze was so fixed on the beautiful sleeping princess that he paid no mind to what the queen was doing. You see, Rouark, like his younger brother, had found himself captivated by the sight of sleeping women, and this princess was even more beautiful asleep than the one his brother had found in an overgrown castle and awakened by putting her hand in warm water. But, getting back to this tale, the terrifying painting, not yet dry, was suspended on the hooks directly above her bed, the dimensions of which it nearly equalled.

When Wet-Sheets, barely even beginning to be conscious, opened her eyes and saw Bygrenn again looming over her, preparing to drop her lethal load, she let out a sharp shriek and shut her eyes again. Then the prince heard the sound he had been waiting to hear: a faint hissing, muffled by the bedclothes. In seconds the hissing grew louder, and a tiny, dark spot like a dropped coin appeared on the top sheet. The warm and wet feeling roused the princess from her hypnagogy, and she sat up, looked first at the spot on the sheet, then at Rouark. He told her, "My search for a bride is over," and all she could say in reply was, "I love you."

And still the hissing rang out, and the dark spot grew larger and larger. Wet-Sheets knew by now that there was no stopping the flow once it had started, and she simply let go of all her restraint as she gazed lovingly into the eyes of her husband-to-be. The raging sea that had built up within her lovely body overnight and before did not cease to flow through its tiny outlet for what seemed like hours. The dark spot on the cloth spread like shadows at sunset, engulfing half the surface of the bed and finally coming to the edges. The hissing was accompanied by a dripping, then a trickling as the princess' relinquished water formed puddles under the bed, which glistened like gold as they reflected the flickering candles. Never was a bed so thoroughly wet by its occupant. When the princess was fully drained, she said, "It's finished," and began to carefully move the covers.

The sheets were so saturated that a liquid swishing could be heard as she moved her legs to get out of the bed. When she did, she stood still by the bed until another puddle was finished forming, this one from her once pure white nightgown. Almost every square inch of her garment from her waist to the floor was wet, and the now translucent fabric stuck to her legs, compelling Prince Rouark to avert his eyes, fearing he was glimpsing more than was fit for him to see before their wedding. As she stood there dripping, he embraced her, not caring that he was getting himself wet in the process. And then they kissed, and she forgot the chilly morning air on her wet skin. When they could finally tear themselves away from each other, the prince went to tell the king of his decision and ask him for his daughter's hand (the latter was a formality, for the royal family was eager to marry off Wet-Sheets). The princess was left to change in privacy.

I'm jerking off to this.

A public announcement of the engagement was made. At this time, the princess spoke to the people of Tazarel. She said, "It is a terrible thing to be embarrassed by the workings of one's body. Such was my humiliation that it almost prevented me from uniting with my true love. Now I know the error of my ways, and shall henceforth be honest and open about such things, even if they conflict with the time-honored image of a woman of royalty. And I encourage you all to be just as open, and to speak openly of me, for I am, indeed, the princess whose panties were this morning as golden as her hair, the princess whose nightmares make much laundry for the servants, and the princess who wakes up each morning in soaking wet sheets." And there was much rejoicing. The princess, who was never particularly well-liked by those in the kingdom (or at least those who had met her), was now more popular than ever, simply for humbling herself before her subjects. She didn't even bother letting them know that she was cured of her bedwetting.

Prince Rouark took her back to his kingdom of Andive and married her. She stayed true to her word. Indeed, she became the most open and least embarrassable woman in the land. She ate as many beans as she liked, and when she broke wind she excused herself like any lady of breeding, but never blushed nor labored to make the act silent. There were no more lies about washing hands or reapplying makeup. When she was in public at Nature's time of calling, she would say, "If you will excuse me, I must retire to the necessarium for relief." Sometimes, when she was feeling especially outspoken, she would mention whether that relief was in a liquid form or a solid one. She even let it be known when it was her time to shed blood without injury.

At her crowning, Queen Mennra and her husband gave her as a gift a fine crystal chamber pot with an elegantly carved ivory lid trimmed in gold, and the new queen displayed it prominently, even when it wanted emptying. When her throne was built she had it made so it could function as a necessarium, and it was not uncommon for her to perform official functions while performing bodily functions, and many who requested an audience with the queen were able to see and hear her relieve her bowels or bladder (hidden under her royal vestments, for even she had limits to her openness). She was such a good queen that her subjects didn't mind these quirks, and it made many feel less ashamed of their own functions to see that even queens did the same things. For this and her many other virtues and contributions she was beloved by the people of Andive. No one today remembers her name, for she was renowned and celebrated as Queen Wet-Sheets.

And I mustn't forget to tell you what became of Wet-Sheets' last wet sheets. The stained top bedsheet that proved she was the masked princess was flown on a flagpole over the castle, and is now in a cabinet of curiosity.

...And it's over.

If for some godforsaken reason you wish to read more like this, go here:

http://nyou.animegirldesp.org/nf/index.php