On the outskirts of a village near Novgorod, there is one of the most mystical places in the area, namely, a peasant cemetery with a princely tomb in the center. After the revolution, like the princes' manor nearby, the tomb was plundered, and rumors began to circulate among the locals about the ghosts of the princely family, who had become relentless in order to punish the insolent people who encroached on their shrine. But the ghosts did not appear, and the belief was forgotten.

But it is worth noting that this place began to attract local youth through its mystery. Adults did not care about the cemetery - only some grandmother occasionally brings grandchildren to the grave of their great-great-great-grandfather. But teenagers, including those who came to the city from holidays, know this area very well, they often go there, joke, even compose their legends, supposedly ancient ones. And now I will tell you the most popular and fun of these tales.

In the village, the tomb is jokingly called the “Ussykalitsa” due to the fact that practically all the girls who visited her ran out with a shriek, pissing off into panties. Justifying and shyly covering their wounds with their fists on their clothes, they babbled something about the mournful howling and whispering of the dead, the spirits awakening, whose chilling presence they felt in their gut. The guys laughed, and the girls embraced the described sufferers with understanding, because from their own experience they knew what it was like to go out, trembling all over, unable to sigh or even bend their legs, and only feel like hot panties a second ago getting cold , cooling stuck to the pussy. There were several brave girls who, after visiting the crypt, proudly displayed dry panties, but they quickly ceased to believe after one incident.

One girl, her name was Kate, emboldened and argued with the boys that she would not cure out of fear. She was wearing a mini-skirt, and when she, still shaking, left the eerie building, the boys began to look at her legs, which turned out to be dry. But one of the local girls insisted that Kate lift her skirt up and show her pink panties. She did it, and the guys were again convinced that Katya was primordially dry. But they did not have time to start praising the brave girl, as the same local girl loudly declared that Katya had a gasket under her underpants, and she also needed to be checked. The guys were stunned - they did not even notice the gaskets, Katya blushed deeply, and the girl continued to insist. As a result, several girls retreated to the bushes, where they took away her gasket from Katya, and, proudly waving Katina daily, as the flag of a defeated enemy, showed it to the guys. And you know what? The gasket was wet through! It was once snow-white, now it was richly yellow, but in the middle (which was directly in contact with Katina's pussy), it was almost orange, soaked in urine that had long been infused in Katya, which in a matter of seconds with a powerful jet all flowed from the bladder to the Katina pad, and the frightened girl could not stop to death, and everything was written and written, huddled up in a ball of fear and shame. She still stood in the crypt - looking around in dark corners in dismay, listening to the howls of the wind or the perfume, not ceasing to write, feeling her pussy as the gasket becomes hotter and wetter. As she herself later confessed, if it weren't for the gasket, she would flood her legs with urine.

To be honest, I never believed in this mystic, and my beliefs were confirmed after the first visit to the crypt. The “potter's” rustles and other whisperings, taken as the gestures of the calmed-down dead in the tombs, were nothing more than rats running around and corresponding with each other. Mysterious howls were issued by the wind, blowing small cracks in the masonry walls.Hence the "dead" cold. However, the reaction of girls who dared to "disturb the peace of the dead" caused such affection that I did not rant, but simply enjoyed every time with new wet divorce on their legs.

And even despite these numerous cases of involuntary girlish urination for themselves, many girls tried to prove that they could resist the sinister spirits of the past. One of them was Nastya, a city girl, who came to her grandmother and grandfather's village for the summer. She had heard stories about “ussskalynitsa” more than once, but until this summer she was terribly afraid of this place - the local girls had already tried to elicit horrors. But from the moment the girl first heard the terrible story, many years had passed. Nastya flourished, prettier, and this summer the village boys met an incredibly beautiful, slender 18-year-old girl, while also firmly deciding to put an end to these rumors that are dishonoring for women. For this, she even dragged her friend Olya out of the city, much like her - the same beautiful, elegant and impregnable self-confident.

First, for greater psychological effect, it was decided to lock her friends in the tomb at night, for several hours. But then they reasoned that when they came out, it would be difficult to determine whether girls were pissed or not in the dark. Therefore, the examination of the girl's bladders was postponed until several hours before dawn. Nastya and Olya had to sit in the crypt until the first rays of the sun, then go out and give their legs and panties to the public. However, the local boys thought differently - Nastya and Olya are much bolder than the superstitious village girls, besides their pride will not allow them to just piss themselves so easily, even from fear - that their panties should be even slightly moist, more serious is needed. And I was persuaded to go with them and scare. "Leave stones, scare away rats with pigeons, and also in the same spirit." And I agreed.

We met near the tomb about three o'clock in the morning. Sleepy, dissatisfied, cringed from the cold of the night. Nastya and Olya were hushed up. Their faces were not visible in the dark, but I felt that they were already beginning to fear. Both girlfriends wore mini skirts and warm blouses, and low-heeled sandals were on her legs. I, by early agreement, "for safety net", accompanied the girls and went with them to the tomb. The guys closed a heavy iron door behind us, and the three of us plunged into total darkness and silence that weighed on our eyes and ears. We turned on the lanterns, and only three trembling beams of light separated us from the horrors of the devastating world.

Our steps cut the dead silence loudly.

“THEY have already heard us,” I casually threw. Olya sighed constrictingly, and Nastya chuckled:

“We are alone here, and you know it.” Ol, what are you doing? - she asked loudly her friend, who for some reason clung to her, almost the whole face plunging her hair into fluffy nastina.

“Nothing,” she grunted, recoiling, and glanced at me. I smiled and ran a flashlight across the wooden floor.

- See the spots on the floor? - I aimed the flashlight at the dark spots, strongly distinguished from the dusty boards.

- Yes. And what is it?

“These girls wandered up to you here,” I grinned.

“And we are not like that,” Nastya’s voice was firm, “we are not going to piss here.”

“Those girls didn’t meet either,” I smiled even wider, “and see what happened — there’s the whole floor in their puddles.” Some quite fresh.

This time Nastya chose to remain proudly silent. I walked a little to one side, looking closely at the enticing series of small elongated specks leading from the middle of the tomb to the exit, which are the prints of the shoes of some highly descriptive girl. It seems that she was paralyzed from the waist down by fear, and for some time she was trampling in a pool that was rapidly spreading beneath her, and then ran to the exit, leaving behind wet tracks.

Using my excommunication, Olya whispered to Nastya:

- Damn, but I did not go to the toilet. Now so hochetstsaaaa ... - hoped that I can not hear ....