Vanquishing The Valkyries Chapter Three (Patreon)

The auditorium was arranged in a circle, seats on all sides surrounding a raised central stage. The presentation was convened with haste, technicians and Beta servants working hard to get the room ready in time for the Queen’s presentation. They went over every aspect of the audio system, making sure that everything was perfectly adjusted for Her Majesty’s speech. The lighting was tested, ensuring that the queen would be visible to everyone in the audience. The auditorium was cleaned and swept and polished until it shined.

     And while this was happening, a small team of Betas undertook one other task: placing a series of small gas canisters into the vents at the back of the room. When they received the signal, they would release their silent, odorless, colorless, utterly undetectable payload across the audience... And since their contents were heavier than oxygen, it would settle to the ground, leaving her Majesty herself unaffected... for her, Oolon had something very special planned.

Although the event had been scheduled rather quickly, almost every Valkyrie who wasn’t currently on duty was in attendance, and the auditorium was filled to capacity with women of every rank and level of experience. More than half of those in attendance were in diapers, hidden beneath their uniforms if possible, bulging visibly, all puffy and blindingly white if they didn’t. Chit-chat was low and kept to a minimum... they all had some idea about what was coming, the smarter of them had been expecting it for weeks. The invasion of Tao-Beta 4 was the first Valkyrie operation in recent memory that hadn’t gone more or less exactly according to plan, and the reasons were almost too extraordinary to be believed... not to mention embarrassing.

     They chatted among themselves, many of them shifting nervously in their seats on crinkly, thickly padded butts as the last stragglers filed in, leaving nearly every seat in the house filled. As the Queen ascended the stage, the Betas filed out and closed the doors after them. Using hand-held welding lasers, the doors were sealed shut behind them... trapping the Valkyries inside. And as her Majesty took her place at centre stage, ready to begin, the signal was given, the canisters in the vents hissing open, the invisible vapor within slowly rolling out over the audience.

With her chin thrust proudly into the air, her shoulders back, spine straight and chest thrust out proudly, the queen glared down upon the audience from her position on the stage, waiting until absolute silence had descended over the room before she began her presentation.

     “Ladies... warriors of the sacred Order of the Valkyries... it is my honour to appear before you today as your leader and commander,” she began, a traditional greeting she honoured but didn’t really believe in at the moment. “I wish I was appearing before you under better circumstances... first, onto the rumours-- yes, it is true that General Allura has been relieved of her duties as supreme commander of the invasion force.”

     Shocked whispering from the crowd rose up around the room-- everyone had assumed that it was only a matter of time before General Allura was removed from her post... but none could have predicted how quickly it would happen. Her Majesty raised her hand to call for order, which was quick to come. “It comes as a shock, I know... and since loyalty is the trait most highly prized by any Valkyrie warrior, I know that many of you will be upset by this decision... but believe me when I tell you that I’ve become privy to knowledge that made it clear that the General was the source of some of the recent lapses in discipline,” she said vaguely, crinkling her nose in distaste when she remembered the sound of the General’s thick, mushy bowel movement blorping out of her and splattering into the seat of her diaper... not to mention the stench that still hung in her nostrils.

     “And that brings me to the subject of today’s gathering-- the two most important characteristics for a Valkyrie warrior to possess-- discipline and dignity.”

And as the Queen made her speech, her commanding voice filling the auditorium and capturing the attention of the troops, the invisible vapor continued seeping silently from their canisters and drifted dreamily out over the audience, aided by the gentle breeze of the air conditioning, until it filled the entire seating area, wafting between the rows, totally undetected by the troops even as they inhaled it, sucking it in and out of their lungs, totally oblivious as it made it’s way into their bodies and went to work.

     The nature of the gas was well known among the Beta resistance fighters... it was one of their most potent weapons, a weapon that had first been employed on the unfortunate Major Stallar during her dinner party disaster... and it had served the resistance well many time since then. It was one of their most brilliant creations: a potent laxative in gas form,  a colourless, odourless vapor that caused anyone who inhaled it to almost instantaneously void their bowels. Even a small concentration was enough to cause an entire squad of elite Valkyrie commandos to lose control of their bowels mere moments after it had been introduced.

     Now, a thick cloud hung over the audience, undetectable to the naked eye... but the effects on the troops were becoming visible. It began with a simple feeling of fullness in the abdominal region that quickly gave way to a growing, crampy urgency, accompanied by rumbling gurgles in the pit of the stomach. In the audience, there were more than a few uncomfortable frowns, and much squirming and crossing and uncrossing of legs.

     Onstage, the queen noticed the increased wriggling and shifting in the crowd and scowled, chalking it up to boredom... another example of the steadily eroding discipline in this place, she decided, pressing on with her lecture.

     “... Discipline, ladies, is the foundation of our order, and dignity is it’s lifeblood. It is the discipline-- the control of one’s self-- that gives the warrior her grace and dignity which grants her the fighting spirit that makes our order the most feared power in the galaxy!”

     In the audience, nobody was listening anymore. The rows closest to the front were the last to be hit by the gas and therefore were only beginning to feel the sharp, stinging cramps in their bellies and an alarming, gassy bloat starting to settle in... but for the women in the back rows, who had been exposed to the vapour first and longest, the breaking point had been reached. Their desperation had appeared suddenly, built with alarming speed, and in a matter of minutes had turned from the normal urge to move their bowels to a frantic struggle to maintain control.  

     Breaking ranks was utterly unthinkable-- it ran counter to all of their programming... so they sat there, sweat dripping down neatly chiselled features, gripping their arm rests with white knuckles, and squeezing their butt-cheeks together as tightly as they’d go.

     “I’m well aware of the... lapses in discipline that have been allowed on General Allura’s watch... and I have reason to believe those lapses started at the top and slowly seeped downward into the ranks. But make no mistake, ladies... playtime is over! From this day forward, I expect each and every one of you to conduct yourself with the utmost discipline and dignity!”

     And arriving on the end of this statement, like an exclamation point, a huge, noisy fart from the audience. The Queen frowned, the room going deadly silent. In the fifth row on the far right, a pretty brunette corporal with big brown eyes by the name of Lennox was turning red. She hadn’t been the first to pass gas... about a dozen officers and troops had quietly snuck one out, and the air in the audience was getting rather ripe.  

     But poor Corporal Lennox had been the first one unlucky enough to accidentally blast one out loud, and she responded by gasping and clamping down as tightly as she could, lip quivering, worried that it may have been more than gas that had escaped into her pants.

     “Uh... as I was saying,” The Queen continued, flummoxed, but determined to finish. “The, uh, the new leadership will place an emphasis on--”

     Another fart roared out of the audience, this one on the opposite side of the room, towards the back. The beautiful, raven haired Captain Welles let out a gasp, the noisy, out-of-tune trumpet blast of her fart had brought with it a hot, mushy gush from her rear-end, which settled into the seat of her diaper. She froze in her seat, lips quivering, trying to hold perfectly still to avoid spreading the mess any further across her buttocks... and vividly aware that she still had a massive load bubbling away aggressively inside her.

     “Oh my!” The Queen exclaimed, reflexively covering her mouth. Her first instinct was to press on with her remarks and attempt to ignore the rude outbursts... but before she could begin, the was another noisy blast of flatulence... and then another and another.  

     All throughout the auditorium, Valkyries were beginning to loose control of their bowels. In the ninth row, Stillson, a pale, blue eyed private with white blonde hair and elven features, could do nothing but sit rigidly and sob quietly to herself as she felt her sphincter fail, a sustained cramp squeezing out an uncontrollable gush of warm mush into the seat of her panties. Stillson couldn’t stop herself from loudly grunting, and she filled her britches with a noisy, gassy crackling. The Private, who had only just gotten off diaper discipline two days before, couldn’t help wishing for the comfort of a big, adult pamper now.

     But Major Xandra, sitting just three rows in front of Private Stillson, would have told her that the diaper didn’t make much of a difference. A proud woman, she had been mortified to her very core when the doctor had recommended the heaviest, most absorbent diapers on the market for her chronic accidents. Sitting there in her proud uniform, a chestful of medals won in fierce conflicts across the known universe and nothing but a massive, infantile diaper on the bottom, it thick plastic crinkling loudly with every step, she’d already had the uncomfortable sensation of being a young girl sitting in a preschool class and learning about the alphabet. Now, her continence had been pushed past the limit and she found herself farting out hot, steamy globs of poop into the seat of her diapers. She was strong enough to briefly regain control, only to have it lapse with another loud, wet fart, bringing with it another, larger instalment. She gripped the chair and gritted her teeth, loosing control by inches, the mess smearing across her backside.

     “Ladies, please try to control yourselves!” The Queen scolded onstage, pinching her nose shut, the earthy stench of messy diapers slowly rising over the entire auditorium.

     As if to prove the futility of this statement, Sargent Elam, a dusky skinned, dark eyed beauty admired by her squad mates for her strength and bravery, lifted her butt off the seat and exploded into her pants, the material sagging and darkening visibly behind her. The Sargent farted noisily, gripping the arm rests with white knuckles, her bowels contracting into a tight fist, squeezing out and uncontrollable urge that had her pants filled to the brim within moments.

     In all, the experiences of most of the women could be summed up in the thoughts of Lieutenant Barger, who, as she filled her diaper with round after round of hot mushy diarrhea, wondered how much shit the human body could hold-- and if it would ever stop. And as her guts cramped once more, her buttocks parting to accommodate another flatulent surge of muddy poop into her bulging, sagging adult pampers, she wondered if it was ever going to stop.

     “This is unacceptable!” The Queen was shouting from onstage, a course of farting and splattering answering her. “Where is your discipline?! Where in the galaxy is your dignity?!”

     For those gathered in the audience, uncontrollably shitting their pants and wallowing in it, the question of discipline and dignity had been entirely forgotten. It was Corporal Connelly, the diaper stuffed under her pants rapidly filling with a hot brown mess, who finally decided she’d had enough. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she waddled as quickly as she could towards the door, still messing her diaper in noisy eruptions. In a blind panic, mindlessly trying to escape the growing stench in the hall, she hit the doors at a frantic pace, taking the handle and giving it a pull, only to discover...

     “It’s stuck!” She cried, desperately tugging the handle, heart sinking when it didn’t even budge. “I can’t get out!”

     “This one too!” squealed Sargent Lawrence from across the room, futilely tugging the handle on the second exit, moments before her guts cramped and her butt opened once more to dump another load of mushy brown poopy into her pants.

     “Oh my God!” cried Private Stillson, the big brown stain on the seat of her uniform growing larger with each second as she scratched at the third and final exit, “we’re trapped!!”

     And with that, all of their conditioning and training, their poise, discipline, and dignity were totally forgotten, and the fearsome Valkyrie warriors, scourges of the universe, whose very names struck terror into the hearts of sentient beings across the galaxy were reduced to a bunch of squealing squabbling preschoolers in desperate need of some fresh diapers as they rushed to the doors to frantically bang and hammer at them, begging to be released.