TVGuy 10,658 Posted March 1, 2018 🌟 OmoOrg VIP Popular Post Share Posted March 1, 2018 (edited) During that summer I turned 16, dusk was my favorite time of day. Sitting on a bench in front of the general store, looking down Main Street, it was easy to forget what century I was in. Sure, I knew it was 1999, but it could just as easily of been 1899. A couple cowboys were riding their horses down the street, pausing to flirt with a group of girls in long flowing dresses. On the other side of the street a tired old cowpoke wandered along the boardwalk, lighting the kerosene street lamps. Somewhere out of sight I could hear the distant sounds of an old country song being played on a guitar as the setting sun glared off the shop windows, giving everything a golden orange glow. Countless smells filled the air engulfing me- There was the ever present odor of horse manure blended with dry dusty air, but it was starting to give way to a fresh evening breeze. This mixed with the sweet smell of the potted flowers along the boardwalk, and the faint smokey smell from the lamps. This was when the chaotic hassle of a summer camp and a working ranch gave way to peaceful tranquility. The summer campers had headed off to their camp sites so the only people left around the main street area were us staffers. Soon I would be spending time with my friends, free from campers and responsibilities. I was lucky that evening. I had managed to finish my chores early, affording me the time to rest and enjoy this precious quiet as the sun sank low in the sky. Neither my friends or I had any specific plans, but somehow every night managed to be special somehow. Of course, I had no idea that this night was about to change my life. The ranch was almost magical. Besides being a time machine to the old west, it was like living inside a musical. It was not at all abnormal for people to suddenly break out in song and dance spontaneously. But even more incredible was that somehow, I managed to be popular here. Back in the real world I was kind of a looser. When I wasn’t at the ranch I was simply a shy, painfully awkward sixteen-year-old, who couldn’t even talk to a girl, unless maybe it was in a chat room. Already, at this age, I was very interested in pants wetting, but this only served to make me feel like more of an outcast. In the real world I didn’t really have much in the way of friends. But the ranch was another world entirely. Here I had dozens close confidants, they were like family. I wasn’t afraid to talk to girls, or let myself have fun. My three closest friends at the ranch formed a sort of musical group. We called ourselves The Fuzzy Rodents and performed parodies of popular songs with rodent themed lyrics we invented. We each had a rodent themed identity in the band, and made up a fake personality to go with it. There was Fuzzy Rat, he was the bad boy in our group and would wear a leather jacket and sun glasses when we performed. Fuzzy Mouse was the young one, only barely 14 years old, he sat at the youngest age that the ranch would hire for any position. We also had Fuzzy Chipmunk, who adopted the identity of a smooth-talking ladies’ man, and I was Fuzzy Squirrel, the innocent cute one. We would perform our songs for the campers and staff alike, complete with poorly choreographed dance routines. With no TV, internet, or radio we were the best entertainment the ranch had. Everyone seemed to think our lyrics were hilarious and we became very popular. For the first time ever in my live I had attractive girls who wanted to be my friend and spend time with me. Sitting there along Main Street, waiting for my friends to finish their chores, I felt absolutely content and happy with my life. If I would have died that instant, I would not have felt like I had missed out on anything. A cool breeze blew down from the mountains and I closed my eyes to inhale the fresh pine scent. When I opened my eyes, Betsy was standing directly in front of me, hands on her hips, smiling. I could write several pages describing how beautiful Betsy was, but I’ll let your imagination do most the work. She was a gorgeous, dark haired, 15 year old. No matter how attractive you might be imagining her right now, I promise you that in reality she was even more beautiful. Smart, funny, outgoing, sexy, and confident, most of the male staffers competed to spend time with her. But, for reasons beyond my comprehension, she seemed to prefer to hang out with me. She was wearing impossibly tight wrangler jeans and a short sleeve, form fitting, button up blouse. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me to my feet as she giggled. “Come on Squirrel,” she said, “Let’s dance!” “Dance? There is no music,” I replied, smiling at her, enjoying how her hand felt as she pulled me to the middle of the street. Almost on cue I suddenly heard music. Fuzzy Chipmunk was playing his guitar and Christie, another staffer, started to sing. As they launched into a beautiful rendition of We Danced Anyway, Betsy grabbed both my hands and started to spin around. Before I knew it, we were dancing. The sweet summer night air engulfed us, and the kerosene street lamps became a blur as we twirled around one another. Slowly the street emptied, and the lamps burned out. Eventually Fuzzy Chipmunk and Christie stopped their music and our dancing came to an end. Christie and Chipmunk laughed and ran off into the night together holding hands, leaving Betsy and I standing in the middle of the street, completely alone. The only light was from the full moon and the few lamps that were still struggling to burn. We simply smiled at each other for a while. With anyone else it would have just been an awkwardly long moment, but with her time followed different rules. Eventually I became aware that she was talking. “Do you remember last week when I told you I had a secret?” she asked in an uncharacteristic sheepish tone. Thinking back, I did remember something about her saying she had a secret and trying to convince her that she could tell me. She resisted though, and I had mostly put it out of my mind. I wasn’t even convinced she really had a secret. Perhaps she was just playing around when she told me that. Yet, here she was bringing it up again. “Yes,” I said, “I remember you said you had a secret, but you didn’t want to tell me.” “Do you still want to know what it is?” she asked. “Only if you want to tell me.” “It is kind of sexual,” she said, avoiding eye contact. My heart was pounding. No girl had ever discussed anything sexual with me before. “You really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” I said, but desperately hoping she would want to. “I’d like to be able to tell someone,” she said, “But it is kind of embarrassing. I have kind of a weird fetish and I’m afraid if I tell anyone they will be grossed out and think I’m a freak.” “Listen,” I told her, trying to sound reassuring, “Whatever it is, it won’t change that you are my friend. Whatever you tell me, I’ll keep it secret. I promise I won’t judge you.” “Alright,” she sighed, then looked straight into my eyes, her cheeks glowing red with embarrassment, “I’m into watersports.” My heart nearly erupted from my chest upon hearing that. I could barely think, I had no idea how to respond to this. Back in the real world I had been online, I was well aware of my own fetish, but it was something I never wanted another person to find out about. I knew exactly what she meant when she said watersports, but I was still completely terrified of anyone else ever knowing what I was into. Instead of being excited that this stunning beauty in front of me seemed to share the same kink, I was fearful of her somehow deducing that I was into it too. Supremely uncomfortable with the situation, the first words I managed to say were, “You mean like water skiing?” As soon as I said that I immediately regretted it. It just sounded so stupid. Why did I say that? “No,” she said, “It means I like pee stuff. Peeing is kind of a turn on for me.” I had no idea how to reply. For the briefest possible moment I wanted to say that I shared her fetish, but before I could even fully realize that thought I was immediately overcome with the fear of someone else knowing about my kink. Instead all I managed was to utter a simple, “oh.” Immediately she looked away, face burning red, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.” “It’s okay,” I said right away, trying to comfort her, “almost everyone is into something a little weird. It really isn’t that bad.” She did seem a little comforted at this, and we continued to talk, but not about her pee fetish specifically. It was well into the night at this point. As far as we could tell everyone had gone to bed, but we were still wide awake. Somehow, we decided to for a walk. Soon we found ourselves down in the activity area, where the summer campers would be engaging in all their camp activities in the morning. At night, however, the activity field was abandoned. Our conversation wandered from subject to subject. Even though I liked the idea that Betsy had a pee fetish, I was glad that we had left that topic behind. Or, at least I thought we had left it behind. Suddenly, in the middle of our conversation, she said, “I need to pee.” There were out houses around the activity area, but they were locked at night. The nearest facilities that would be open were back on Main Street, but wandered quite a ways from there. Here options for relieving herself were severely limited. My mind was racing in circles, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound awkward, creepy, or reveal my pee fetish. She just stared at me, waiting for me to say something. Finally, she seemed to give up on me ending the silence and asked, “What would you do if I wet my pants right now?” “Um…” I stuttered, “I don’t know.” Then, trying to lighten the mood I jokingly added, “Why? Do you think that is likely to happen?” “It is getting pretty likely,” she said, with a little giggle, “You won’t tell anyone will you?” “Of course not,” I said, “You can trust me.” She sighed in a way that sounded kind of relieved. I figured she was just relieved at my assurance of friendship and trust, but then I saw her eyes were closed and she had kind of a funny little smile on her face. Looking down, I saw her jeans growing wet. Standing right in front of me, she was not even trying to stop from peeing in her pants. It wasn’t long before her jeans were completely soaked. Now, something you should know about me is that I had very low self-esteem. I could not comprehend that any girl would want to be anything more than friends with me. So, as Betsy and I continued wandering aimlessly through the night, her in soaking wet pants, I continued to remain painfully oblivious to the very strong hints she was throwing my way- “It would feel really good to take my pants off right now.” “I know this is weird, but being wet like this really turns me on.” “Thank you for being so easy to share things with. I would be totally comfortable with you in any situation, even if I were naked.” With all these statements I tried to reply in a way that didn’t betray any interest. I was so fearful of her learning of my fetish that I didn’t want to seem like there was any way I was into this at all. Even without revealing my kink, I was afraid if I betrayed any interest in her she would simply ridicule me. How could a shy nerdy guy like me possibly think someone like her would be interested? Only looking back did I realize how hard she was trying, and I was completely non-receptive. Betsy and I remained friends for years after that. Every summer we continued to work at the ranch. But for the rest of the year we only ever saw each other on AOL Instant Messenger. We never officially dated, hooked up, or anything like that. The most physically intimate thing we ever did was hold hands. I never revealed my fetish to her, even though we frequently talked about her kinks. After that night, she seemed to have no issue openly discussing her fetishes and fantasies with me. Eventually there were a couple other occasions where I was lucky enough to witness her peeing, but that night was by far the most memorable. When the video game The Sims came out, we discussed at great lengths how the characters could have accidents in the game. Inspired, we decided to try and make our own game, much like The Sims, only centered on different fetishes. It would be an open world sandbox game where your character could move around the community, engage in different kinks, and develop relationships. We made a lot of progress in developing that game. All the core mechanics were in place and most of the graphics were finished. As the game crept closer to completion, we decided to create a company to sell it under. The name of our company was going to be Fuzzy Squirrel Productions, after my rodent identity from our band at the ranch. The whole world seemed to fall apart then. There were the 9/11 terrorist attacks. In the aftermath of that we didn’t work much on our game or discuss kinks. Then I went away to college and was overwhelmed with work. We hardly ever spoke. Months went by, and I learned that she was pregnant. We talked a little bit then, but the conversation was different. There was no mention of the game we were working on, fetishes, or our time at the ranch. It was all just awkward pleasantries. Then things got even worse. As she neared the end of her pregnancy she was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer. They could try to treat it, but the treatment would almost certainly terminate her pregnancy. She chose to forego treatment, to give her baby the best possible chance at survival, even though it meant she wouldn’t be around to raise it. The baby was born healthy and adopted by a nice couple who couldn’t conceive on their own, but Betsy was quickly declining. A week before she passed away, we talked on AOL messenger one last time. Our conversation went on for hours and touched on many different subjects. I knew this would likely be the last time I ever talked to her, and it sort of seemed like if we stopped talking it would hasten her end. One of the things we talked about was Fuzzy Squirrel Productions. She said there were lots of people like her, ashamed and embarrassed of their kink, living in fear someone might find out. She told me I had a gift, that I was good at making people feel accepted and normal, even if they were into something everyone else thought was gross. Someday, she told me, she wanted me to create something that would help people like her feel normal and accepted. Even though the game never got finished, it was her desire to not treat kinks as something to be ashamed of that I carried forward in starting HD Wetting and HD Diapers. For all the fetish content I have produced, the one constant is that I always try to show the fetishes as something that can be a normal part of someone’s life. Of course I named my company Fuzzy Squirrel Productions, just as Betsy and I had planned as teenagers. An old western town lay asleep in the sun Of a long summer day that was then almost done. The shadows were long and the horses stood 'round Sort of restin' one leg and their head hangin' down. Two cow punchers down at the "Last Chance" saloon Was tryin' to sing. They was both out of tune. At one end of the street that was dusty and narrow A scratchin' the dirt was some chickens and sparrows. The dogs slept in the shade and the people they strolled Like they felt plum contented in body and soul. If you looked just a little way off to the west You could see the high mountains with snow on their crest. The shadows of clouds drifted over the flat And it sure made a right purty picture at that. A drunken cow puncher was ready to go And he figured he'd aught to put on a big show. He spurred and he hollered and shot his six gun, And he aimed to take out with his horse on the run; But he didn't remember his cinches was slack Until after he got his old pony ontracked. That cow horse he started to buck and to bawl And got rid of that cow puncher saddle and all. And before that drunk waddy got clear of the wreck He was bit by two dogs, which he didn't expect. The horse he bucked into a long hitchin' rack Where a team was hitched to a wagon raired back. They lit out a draggin' the old rattle trap And swingin' the broke ends of two hitchin' straps. A whole lot of people come from everywhere The sparrows and chickens they took to the air. The kids made for cover, the women all screamed And the dogs was all chasin', that runaway team. A feller run out like some fool always did A yellin' and jumpin' and wavin' his lid. When the horses got close the man lost his nerve. He got out of the way but he made the team swerve. They tore down the porch posts in front of the store. They busted the window and several things more. They was off of their feet when at last they got stopped Piled up in a heap with the wagon on top. They was fast in the harness, one horse nearly strangled, But the crowd went to work and they got 'em untangled, But just when they started to take 'em away The storekeeper come out with plenty to say. His place had been wrecked, but what made it worse still The man with the team owed the store man a bill. He swore he would take it all out of his hide He shore wasn't bluffin, he got in and tried. But most of the citizens present they reckoned That the storekeeper come off a mighty poor second. The town marshall come with his badge and his gun Just in time for a drink 'cause the whole thing was done. The sun soon went down. Then a few golden streaks From the afterglow showed on the snowy peaks. The kerosene lamps shed a soft yellow light Where the town folks was cookin' their supper that night. 'Twas a real western night with no fog or no haze The stars hung in clusters so bright that they blazed. Some neighbors they gathered to visit and talk You could hear the slow foot steps along the board walk. There sprung up a soft gentle breeze from the west One after another the lights went to rest And the curtain of night settled quietly down On that best of all places, and old western town. Edited March 1, 2018 by TVGuy (see edit history) PrincessEsther, WesternWets, DiminishingReturns and 32 others 35 Quote Link to comment
DiminishingReturns 275 Posted March 1, 2018 Share Posted March 1, 2018 That is awesome, and sad and tragic, but is an expose on the reality of growing up. Thank you for sharing this. Quote Link to comment
Akuji19 85 Posted March 1, 2018 Share Posted March 1, 2018 That turned so sad at the end .. but it was a good story after all Quote Link to comment
rachelkirwan 13,626 Posted March 1, 2018 🌟 OmoOrg VIP Share Posted March 1, 2018 Beautiful! Quote Link to comment
mrguy27 7 Posted March 1, 2018 Share Posted March 1, 2018 What a beautiful story. The part where it read, "She told me I had a gift, that I was good at making people feel accepted and normal" brought a tear to my eye. I felt that personally because I myself am the same kind of innocent shy guy. I've been plagued by deep depression and anxiety and have often felt alone and wondered if there was anyone that was like me. TVGuy what you wrote here was really powerful for me. I'm 21 and feel like I have a long trip ahead of me but that felt inspirational. Thank you for sharing this Quote Link to comment
TheEvilDog 243 Posted March 1, 2018 Share Posted March 1, 2018 I came into this to learn more about HD wetting. And left crying. Thanks @TVGuy Quote Link to comment
Thunder 90 Posted March 1, 2018 Share Posted March 1, 2018 I can only imagine how hard this story should have been to write, but it is indeed a pleasure to read. Thank you for having shared it with us here. I'm very fond of poetry (of course in French, my native language :-)) but I might try something out to describe what I felt while reading yours. It couldn’t be more than a dream. It was the smell of a vision, The small hope of an illusion, That woke me up and made me scream. I didn’t live it actually, It couldn’t be reality; My eyes sinking until I die, It couldn’t be more than a lie. This perfection of happiness Cannot exist somewhere of Earth; No more dark and only brightness, It’s like the second of your birth. I could see life without a tear, The sun was shining in my heart, And the world was spreading its light, There was only hope and no fear. And in the brilliance of the day, In the wonder of its prayer, There was no money we should pay: The whole world was looking better. But for real, dream is a breeze, Each advantage has its drawback, To be happy we’re looking back, We find our smile in memories. Time is running, and life going, And we can’t smile without a tear; The sun is gone, my heart’s freezing, Happiness is a hope we fear. Quote Link to comment
wetaccident 185 Posted March 2, 2018 Share Posted March 2, 2018 What an amazing story and reflection. Thank you for sharing it with us! Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted March 2, 2018 Share Posted March 2, 2018 I wouldn't have believed this story if it turned into steamy sex, but the part where nothing happens and you continually ignore blatantly sexual flirting... That absolutely rings true. I was exactly the same way as a teenager... Couldn't believe anyone would ever want more than friendship from me. Quote Link to comment
TVGuy 10,658 Posted March 2, 2018 Author 🌟 OmoOrg VIP Share Posted March 2, 2018 8 hours ago, mrguy27 said: What a beautiful story. The part where it read, "She told me I had a gift, that I was good at making people feel accepted and normal" brought a tear to my eye. I felt that personally because I myself am the same kind of innocent shy guy. I've been plagued by deep depression and anxiety and have often felt alone and wondered if there was anyone that was like me. TVGuy what you wrote here was really powerful for me. I'm 21 and feel like I have a long trip ahead of me but that felt inspirational. Thank you for sharing this I'm glad I was able to help. Depression and anxiety can be very tough. There have definitely been times in my life that I felt hopeless, it was impossible for me to ever imagine being happy again. Yet, by hanging there, I managed to stumble across happiness in unexpected places. 7 hours ago, TheEvilDog said: I came into this to learn more about HD wetting. And left crying. Thanks @TVGuy I'm thinking maybe that was a sarcastic thanks? I knew it was going to be kind of sad, I hope it wasn't too much of a downer. 7 hours ago, Thunder said: I can only imagine how hard this story should have been to write, but it is indeed a pleasure to read. Thank you for having shared it with us here. I'm very fond of poetry (of course in French, my native language :-)) but I might try something out to describe what I felt while reading yours. It couldn’t be more than a dream. It was the smell of a vision, The small hope of an illusion, That woke me up and made me scream. I didn’t live it actually, It couldn’t be reality; My eyes sinking until I die, It couldn’t be more than a lie. This perfection of happiness Cannot exist somewhere of Earth; No more dark and only brightness, It’s like the second of your birth. I could see life without a tear, The sun was shining in my heart, And the world was spreading its light, There was only hope and no fear. And in the brilliance of the day, In the wonder of its prayer, There was no money we should pay: The whole world was looking better. But for real, dream is a breeze, Each advantage has its drawback, To be happy we’re looking back, We find our smile in memories. Time is running, and life going, And we can’t smile without a tear; The sun is gone, my heart’s freezing, Happiness is a hope we fear. Thank you for sharing, I really enjoyed reading your poem. 3 hours ago, satyr said: I wouldn't have believed this story if it turned into steamy sex, but the part where nothing happens and you continually ignore blatantly sexual flirting... That absolutely rings true. I was exactly the same way as a teenager... Couldn't believe anyone would ever want more than friendship from me. Even though it happened to me, thinking back, it scarcely seems reel. I remember it the way I remember a movie I saw a long time ago. When I posted this, I really wasn't sure that anyone actually would believe it. Richpee 1 Quote Link to comment
ian flemming 231 Posted March 2, 2018 Share Posted March 2, 2018 those moments like you described when you knew she was dying and your talking with her. Afraid that if you stop , that will be it. I've had those , and in that description found my self back there in those conversations were they felt endless but in looking back were far far to short. A odd quiet remorse but a long standing beauty in it. it also makes me think of the ending line in the movie rendition of Steven kings book "the train" "I never had friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12 . jesus does anyone?" Quote Link to comment
TheEvilDog 243 Posted March 2, 2018 Share Posted March 2, 2018 @TVGuy my thanks was sincere and sarcastic. Sincere because it was a great story. Sarcastic cause I don't wanna cry lol. Quote Link to comment
Weasel 1,097 Posted March 3, 2018 Share Posted March 3, 2018 Wow. That's an incredible story. Thank you so much for your tale, and your efforts to make folks feel better about themselves. It's important work in our circles, and I try to do it myself in my own way. But your efforts are amazing. My hat would be off to you, if I were wearing a hat. Quote Link to comment
Toady567 235 Posted March 3, 2018 Share Posted March 3, 2018 That is a very touching story. I'm sorry for your loss. Quote Link to comment
PPP 1,307 Posted March 4, 2018 Share Posted March 4, 2018 Wow. I wasn't expecting a story on Omo.org to be this much of a tearjerker, and I mean that in the best of ways. The whole thing was incredibly well-written. The part where you look back on her flirting really connected with me. I often find myself thinking back to missed opportunities. Quote Link to comment
David_E 116 Posted March 4, 2018 Share Posted March 4, 2018 TvGuy, Although I have never suffered from depression, I used to be cripplingly shy with girls - just as you were - so I understand exactly how you felt. I am a good deal older than you, and there was no internet back then, so when I did get a girlfriend in my twenties, I could not risk even mentioning watersports to her. You would think that shyness like that would be a thing of the past - everything is so explicit nowadays - but it isn't - there is a website that caters for 'LoveShy' men - some of them are still without a girlfriend, because of that shyness at age 50! David Quote Link to comment
Temporary-O5 90 Posted March 4, 2018 Share Posted March 4, 2018 Oh, wow. While this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something sad but inspiring on OmoOrg, it certainly is something I can absolutely respect. This story that you’ve given us is something else, and I thank you wholeheartedly for that. While I do lend my condolences to the loss of Betsy, considering she definitely seemed like an amazing person and it comes to show through the experiences you’ve shared, the fact that you’re carrying on what she wanted and so on is truly something I can hold my head high for. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t say it’s too much of a downer at all. Quote Link to comment
Tailsuser 120 Posted March 5, 2018 Share Posted March 5, 2018 (edited) I very like your story. It has got something emotional, something everybody here would wish happened to him, even if the end is tragic, though. Something there is some feeling coming up, I can not explain what, but, it reminds me of the story of Chalie Kirby where she wrote about the girl in the hot summer night wetting these Pullups. Also its the same feeling which comes up when you sit at night under the clear starlight sky, watching and searching for some planets with your telescope, just knowing there is something very big around us, we are part of it, you can look for it, we all flying on a big planet with many people through the space, looking out at our environment, but everything is so fine and quiet. This is when i feel complete. At least this was the feeling when you were together with her. Edited March 5, 2018 by Tailsuser added a link to the pullup text of Chalie Kirby's (see edit history) Quote Link to comment
anonymous guy choc 111 Posted March 7, 2018 Share Posted March 7, 2018 Well, I'd say that was a sudden dark turn on the level of Doki Doki literature club. Quote Link to comment
jj2jjj 68 Posted March 7, 2018 Share Posted March 7, 2018 You are a wonderful person for letting this person share their experiences with you. There is nothing more freeing than feeling accepted by a friend or a loved one, especially for something that can feel so taboo. Quote Link to comment
Thisguy8120 69 Posted March 7, 2018 Share Posted March 7, 2018 Damn that’s a hell of story man I’m sorry to hear that happened to your friend. But your doing a great job and I’m sure she’d be proud, thanks for sharing this! Quote Link to comment
fredfredburger24 91 Posted March 10, 2018 Share Posted March 10, 2018 You sir, shall never buy a beer in my presence. Quote Link to comment
Tsunami Pants 42 Posted March 17, 2018 Share Posted March 17, 2018 Beautiful memory, man. Thank you so much for sharing. Mucho respect to you. Quote Link to comment
Helena 550 Posted March 18, 2018 Share Posted March 18, 2018 This is so sad.In many ways. My eyes are full of tears. It´s the most touching I have read on the forum. Thank you for sharing. And we will never forget about Betsy! Quote Link to comment
PWG 243 Posted March 23, 2018 Share Posted March 23, 2018 Sorry for the necro but. Man....read this. It was moving. 100%. The whole story. Its super touching how its almost like a legacy in the sense you carried the name on into your production of web content. Bittersweet though. She sounded like a really awesome person. Honestly thank you for sharing. As someone who honestly doesn't see the world in a positive light, this kind of moved and inspired me. Maybe enough to keep going. Quote Link to comment
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