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Wet Sisterhood


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My name is Fiona and, ever since I was young, I often used to hold on when I wanted a wee, sometimes until it was almost too late, I would end up having to rush to the toilet at the very last minute and would usually make it in time. My mum was always telling me off for leaving it so late, but I didn’t often wet myself very much so that it would show, but sometimes my knickers were a bit damp when I got there. There were a couple of times when I was playing with a friend and we got a fit of the giggles, and I ended up laughing so much and I was so desperate that I lost it and wet my knickers. For some reason that I will never know, I quite enjoyed the danger of doing this, I knew it was wrong to wet yourself, we all know this because it is how we are all brought up. I quite enjoyed the desperation and also, on occasions when I had leaked a bit on the way to the toilet, wearing slightly damp knickers afterwards.

We moved to the north of England when I was about to go to secondary school, and I went to an all girls school. In trying to fit in I got in with a crowd of ‘rebels’ nothing by today’s standards but pretty naughty at the time.

One thing we did was to drink water in the break and not go to the toilet, then when we were in lessons we would hold on in classes until we were desperate, and then would have to ask the teacher to let us be excused to go to the loo during lessons. We thought this was very funny. Usually the first request was allowed, and then the next one, but by the time there were five or six asking to be excused the teachers realised something was going on with this bunch of girls, and would begin to say no, we were old enough to wait until the end of the lesson. You can guess that, sometimes as a result, we were all nearly wetting ourselves by the end of the lesson.

We also got into drinking cider in the park in the evenings and once, when we were a bit tipsy, one of the girls Donna, who was dying for a wee, laughed so much that she couldn’t help but lose control and wet herself, much to the merriment of us all.

As our school days drew to a close when we were 18, we decided that we wanted to have a bond like blood brothers before we went our separate ways, so one day we sat around around thinking of ideas. After a discussion we decided we were all too squeamish to cut ourselves and become blood sisters. Another suggestion was all going shoplifting, but again there were some girls who were not up for this either. We couldn’t decide on anything.

One evening we were sitting around talking, and we were laughing about some of the things we had done, like being desperate for a wee in class, and also when Donna had wet herself laughing.

An idea popped into my head, knowing how much I enjoyed holding on when I needed a wee until I was bursting, and the games we had played before. I thought for a moment, and then I said ‘One thing we could all do if we wanted, when we were together, would be to have a few drinks and then hold on until we were desperate like we used too and, to make the bond like blood brothers, before we go away we would all have to wet ourselves like Donna did, just our little secret between friends.’

At first everyone was not sure, the drinking and holding on was ok but maybe not wetting ourselves. Nobody could come up with any other ideas for bonding and we all went away to think about it.

When we were next together several girls had come up with ideas supporting the idea and had been thinking about how we could do this secretly. We would all have to meet somewhere and wear suitable clothes for the occasion, and also bring a change of clothes for going home. Some of the girls were still not sure, but were persuaded by the rest of us.

The date was set. We all agreed to meet at the local youth club on the Friday night, to have a few drinks of coke and then to go off together to one of the girls houses, whose parents were away.

We took a few cans of cider with us and were all in a party mood and, as the evening passed I knew I was getting desperate for a wee, and the others would be too. One or two of the girls looked as if they were thinking of heading for the toilet, but the rest of us took them outside into the garden. There were six of us altogether, and the consensus had been to wear short skirts and cotton panties so that when we had too, we would be able to wet ourselves quite easily and would only have to change our knickers.

It was was a warm summers evening and, as we kicked off our shoes and sat around in the garden, drinking more cider, it seemed an almost perfect moment in time.

Several of the girls were beginning to wriggle around in desperation, by now we were all dying for a wee, so we began to talk about what we had planned. We agreed that we all had to do it and no one could chicken out. This was our secret between the gang. But who would be first?

There were six of us, Donna, Emily, Anne, Wendy, Lizzy and me.

Donna had wet herself before and Lizzy and I were both up for it, but the other three were more cautious. I said to Lizzy ‘I’m nearly wetting myself I’m really desperate, shall we do it now?’ We both stood up and, with our legs apart, tried to wee. We looked at each other and laughed, nothing was happening. ‘It’s not so easy to let go as we thought,’ said Lizzy. Then I felt myself relax and slowly began to wee, and so did Lizzie. I felt the wee begin to dribble out into my knickers, then it came faster and faster. My knickers felt all warm and wet, and the wee began to run out between my legs and onto the grass of the lawn. I could feel it running down the inside of my thighs, it was a lovely feeling, relieving that pressure. I lifted up my skirt and so did Lizzie, and we could all see that both of our knickers were now soaking.

Now it was the others turn. Donna was laughing and stood up with Anne and they both tried to wee. They found it difficult with us all watching and couldn’t get going at first, all the inhibitions kicking in from our childhood training to be good and not to wet our knickers. Eventually Donna managed to start to wee, and then Anne followed, lifting up her skirt so that we could see the wee flooding out of her knickers and pouring onto the grass. My god she was bursting!

Emily and Wendy had been watching and laughing but were still not sure about this. They were both part of the gang and had watched us all wet ourselves, but still didn’t want to do it themselves. It took a bit more plying with cider to get them to lose their inhibitions a bit more and have a go. Meanwhile we were still standing around in wet knickers. But it was a warm night and I was enjoying the feeling.

Finally we got the two of them to stand up and try to wet themselves. They were by now very desperate and were hopping around from foot to foot. It took a while but first Wendy and then Emily lifted up their skirts and began to let go. We could see a wet patch spreading through their knickers as, slowly at first, the wee began to leak out, rapidly becoming a stream as they emptied their bursting bladders and thoroughly soaked their knickers. When they had finished we all cheered and had a group hug. We sat around in our wet knickers for a little while chatting, but then it was time to change into clean dry underwear and to head off home.

Our secret bond lives on years later, although I think one or two of us may have shared it with our partners. I know it turns my husband on when he hears this story.

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