Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

Recommended Posts

It is the end of the semester, so I have a ton of things that I don't want to do before break, so I wrote this instead. I wrote it fast and sloppy, so I'm sure I missed some fairly ridiculous mistakes!

***

    
    Cami rolled her eyes. “No one in this whole state knows how to handle snow,” she lamented. 

    Damien, her somewhat impromptu companion, shrugged good-naturedly. “Donna wanted milk, too, right?” 

    “Yes, skim,” Cami clarified, reaching for a carton of eggs. 

    The grocery store was, as expected, packed, with people scrambling to buy necessities before the storm hit. In fact, it was already snowing outside, and Cami had resisted when her mother, Donna, had requested a trip to the grocery store. 

    Dr. Donna Patrick was a professor of international relations at the university. She lived 20 minutes or so out of town, in a large house that befit her academic rank. Her daughter, Dr. Camille Patrick, was a clinical psychologist and was in town for her mother’s yearly end-of-semester celebration. 

    It was finals week at the university, and Donna, with her children grown, had developed a habit of inviting students to her house for a meal at the beginning of winter break. Mostly, she got students who lived close by, but occasionally, she got one like Damien, who would spend the night after the dorms closed.

    Damien was a junior who had first met Donna the previous spring semester in her popular intro course. Even in a class of 150 students, Damien stood out with his superior writing and thoughtful, critical answers in class. This semester, he had taken Donna’s advanced seminar, and Donna had gotten to know him even better. She knew he was a transfer student and that he wanted to go to law school. She’d been pleased when he accepted the invitation for the end-of-the-semester party. 

    Because the dorms closed the last day of finals, Damien had agreed to say overnight at Donna’s house. Donna had explained that her husband, a professor in the chemistry department, was at a conference and would be back the following day for the party, but her daughter, Dr. Patrick (“Call her Cami”) would be in town. Cami was a few years older than Damien’s older sister, so he didn’t mind idea of sharing a house with the two women for a night. 

    Damien had followed Donna to her house to find that Cami was already there. Introductions were made, but then the discussion turned quickly to the weather. Over Cami’s objections that no, Mom, there was really plenty of food in the house, no need to venture out, Donna decided that a trip to the grocery store was necessary, and that Damien should accompany Cami, just to be safe. 

    Neither Cami nor Damien particularly minded having to spend time with each other, despite having just met. They were both outgoing enough that conversation wasn’t a problem. On the drive into town, Cami got to know the young man and his interests, and Damien asked about Cami’s experience in grad school and her current practice. 

    Now, however, both were feeling ever so slightly more tense. Cami knew the roads were getting worse and didn’t want to waste time. She was doing her best not to take out any of her anxiety on the innocent student. 

    Little did she know that Damien was working to suppress his own anxiety. He, too, was eager to get back to the house. His bladder was getting full, a sensation he really didn’t enjoy. Realistically, he could have used the restroom in the store, but it wasn’t an emergency, and he’d rather help Cami out with the shopping to speed things along. 

    By the time they wound their way through the crowds and made it to the registers, the lines were all a half-dozen people deep. Damien drew in an unexpectedly harsh breath, but thankfully, Cami didn’t hear him. 

    He knew he could just go. He could run to the bathroom and be back before Cami even reached the register. But the anxiety was already making him illogical, and he chose to stay where he was. 

    “I suppose we’re part of the problem!” Cami was saying. “We’re being the kind of people who act like they’ve never seen snow before!” 

    Damien managed a grin. The line was moving at a decent pace – at least the checkout employees were prepared for snow, apparently – and he knew he could make it back to the house. 

    It took another 15 minutes, but eventually, Damien and Cami headed toward the exit, bags in hand. As they reached the door, however, Cami groaned. 

    The storm had hit. Fat, heavy snowflakes coated the air, sticking to everything they touched. The cars in the parking lot already had a layer of snow, and the roads were no longer black but gray, lined with tire tracks in the rising snow. 

    “Uuuuuuugh,” Cami moaned as they trudged across the parking lot to her car. “Mom better have wine waiting for me when we get back.”

    Damien gave a half-laugh. “We’ll be back, soon, though,” he said, more a question than a reassurance. 

    “Ehhhh,” Cami shrugged, closing the trunk after putting in the last bag. “With the snow falling like this, the highway probably isn’t going to be much better. I’m guessing it’ll take us at least twice as long to get back.” 

    Damien’s face fell, but Cami didn’t see as she slid into the driver’s seat. “Aaaaand, we have to stop for gas,” she sighed, seeing the illuminated signal on the dashboard. 

    Cami pulled across the parking lot to the adjacent gas station. Damien looked around, but the station building was no more than a single-person kiosk. There was no public bathroom that he could use while Cami filled the car. 

    His mind started slipping. He hadn’t had to go that badly, but nerves made his situation so much worse. Well, nerves and other things…

    Filling the car only took a few minutes, and Damien tried to use his last vestiges of rational thought to convince himself that he could make it through the drive home. But when Cami finally made it on to the highway, those last vestiges evaporated. 

    Traffic had been slow enough in town as cars tried to avoid skidding through intersections, but on the highway, away from the buildings and signs, the view was almost entirely white. Snow swirled around the car, which Cami had moving at barely 30 miles an hour. 

    Damien did some quick math in his head. At this rate, it would take them nearly an hour to get back to Donna’s house. He unconsciously turned toward the window, trying to hide his growing panic from Cami. 

    Cami kept the radio off, focusing on the road. Although it was still daylight, visibility was terrible, and she and the other drivers kept their lights on. She drove for about 20 minutes in silence, going barely 10 miles. She knew the atmosphere in the car was tense, but she didn’t want to waste any energy trying to make conversation. Besides, Damien seemed to be OK with the silence.

    Until he wasn’t. 

    At an undetermined point on the highway, Cami became aware of uneven breathing from the boy next to her. He was almost whimpering, his breaths sharp and shaky. 

    Cami risked a quick glance sideways, but couldn’t determine anything, other than the fact that Damien was almost entirely turned toward the window. 

    “Damien?” she asked cautiously. “You doing OK?” 

    Out of the corner of her eye, Cami saw Damien press back into the seat. When he answered, his voice was…different. Nervous, definitely, but more…robotic, almost. 

    “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said dully. “Please.” 

    “Oh!” Cami couldn’t hold back her shock. Damien hadn’t said anything before, and even driving slow, he should be able to make it back to the house, right? 

    “That’s OK,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. “We’ll be back to the house soon enough.” 

    She wasn’t sure what else to say. The only other exit between here and the one for Donna’s house was residential, so it wouldn’t have any public bathrooms to use, and it wasn’t like she could pull off the side of the road in a blizzard. Surely Damien knew that. 

    Somewhere in the back of his mind, Damien did know that. But Damien wasn’t really thinking logically. He wasn’t thinking much at all. His movements were twitchy and uncontrolled, and after another 10 minutes, he let out a whine and shoved his hand between his legs. 

    “Damien?” Cami asked again, more worried this time. “Are you OK?” 

    “I don’t know if I can hold it,” Damien respond in the same flat voice. It was as if he was reading from a script, responding in a way that most college students wouldn’t. 

    Looking down at the speedometer, Cami pressed her lips together. She really wasn’t comfortable going any faster. 

    “You’ll be OK,” she said. “You can make it.” 

    “I don’t know if I can.” Damien’s voice had a small tremor now. “I don’t want to have an accident.” 

    Cami was truly bewildered now. He sounded childlike, or like an adult’s impression of a child. She risked another glance to the right – Damien’s legs were twisted tightly, hands buried between his thighs. He certainly looked like he badly needed the bathroom, but Cami couldn’t imagine a nearly grown man not being able to hold it for another 20 minutes or so. 

    Cami kept driving. She was going as fast as she thought was safe, which wasn’t very fast at all. 

    A few miles from their exit, Cami hard a small whine and then a hiss of breath as Damien sucked in air forcefully between his teeth. She didn’t know what talking would do at this point, but she still felt the need to ask. 

    “Damien? How you doing over there?” 

    “I-“ Damien’s voice was definitely shaking now. “I just peed a little bit in my pants.”

    “You’re OK,” Cami replied, automatically. She’d softened her own voice, as if she were talking to someone much younger than Damien. She didn’t want him to feel bad, but she also definitely didn’t want to have to clean pee out of her car. 

    “We’re almost there,” she promised, which, while geographically correct, wasn’t quite temporally accurate. “Look, there’s our exit. Just another 10 minutes. You can do it.” 

    A plaintive sniffle was all she got in response. She pulled off the highway, and peeked over at her passenger while stopped at the top of the exit ramp. 

    Every muscle in Damien’s body seemed tensed. He was bouncing arrhythmically in the seat, seemingly not in control of his own body. 

    As Cami turned, Damien felt the wetness of his underwear pressed against his skin. As tightly as he squeezed, he couldn’t make himself feel in control. Jeans weren’t the best for holding yourself, and he leaked again. 

    “I…” he stammered, as if the words were being pulled out of him by force. “I had an accident again. M-my pants are wet.” 

    “Honey, we’re so close,” Cami pleaded, abandoning all pretense of social correctness. The boy was in pain, and she wanted to comfort him. “Just hang on a few more minutes, OK?” 

    “I’m…trying,” Damien answer, voice strained but still emotionless. “I’m trying not to pee my pants.” 

    Oddly, but thankfully, the road to Donna’s house was clearer than the highway. A plow must’ve just been by. Cami took advantage of the comparatively good conditions to speed up a little. She made one final turn, the only sound in the car Damien’s hitched, desperate breathing. 

    “There’s a bathroom in the basement,” Cami informed him. “Just off the garage. You can go in there.” 

    “I’m going,” Damien squeaked, and Cami wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. “I’m having an accident and I can’t make it stop.” 

    Cami hit the garage door button as she turned into her mom’s driveway. “Just one more minute, Damien, we’re here!” 

    Pulling into the garage, Cami stopped as fast as she could. Damien was already unbuckled and fumbling with the door. He kept a hand pressed between his legs as he stumbled into the house.  

    Cami puffed out her cheeks and sighed. She checked the passenger seat and didn’t see any wetness. She took that as a good sign and hoped that Damien was able to make it to the bathroom. 

    Stretching out of the car, Cami gathered a few of the bags from the trunk. In the basement, the bathroom door was shut, so at least Damien had made it that far. She headed up the stairs, ready to confront her mom with some very important questions.

    In the bathroom, Damien had slammed the door behind him, but the sight of the toilet had been too much. As soon as he set foot on the tile, his bladder relinquished its tenuous hold, spilling urine around his tight grip. 

    Twisting his legs together and bending forward at the waist, Damien scrabbled at his fly, but it was drenched in pee and his fingers kept slipping off. Heat coursed down his shaking legs, soaking into his shoes and socks. 

    Damien felt lightheaded. He swayed on the spot, but didn’t fall. Several voices babbled in his head.

    I’m peeing in my pants…Did you have an accident?...Did you have to go potty?...I couldn’t hold it, sir…What kind of freshman can’t stop himself from wetting his pants?

    A pale puddle expanded around Damien’s feet, soaking into the bath mat. His head spun as he looked down at the streaks of pee still snaking down his jeans. He felt the stream of urine expelling from his bladder through his saturated boxers. 

    He was whining softly, aimlessly. He had a huge accident all over his professor’s bathroom. He didn’t know what to do. 

    Meanwhile, Cami had made a second trip down to the car to get the remaining groceries. She saw the bathroom door was still shut, but she knew that Damien had gotten his pants a little wet in the car, so she figured he didn’t want to come out just yet. 

    Upstairs, Donna had come to the kitchen and was starting to put things away. “Hey, sweetie! How bad were the roads? Where’s Damien?”

    Cami set the bags on the counter and fixed her mother with a pointed stare. “Soooo…is there anything you know about Damien that you want to tell me?” 

    Donna drew her head back, astonished. “Nothing that fits with the tone you’re asking me in!” she answered honestly. “What happened? Where is he? Is he OK?” 

    Cami cringed. “He’s not hurt…” she equivocated. “But on the drive back – which took forever, by the way, I can’t believe you made me go out in this – he started acting really weird. He had to go to the bathroom, and apparently, he had to go really bad.” 

    “Poor kid,” Donna sighed, definitely not understanding the full extent of the issue. “That must’ve been embarrassing.” 

    “No, Mom,” Cami insisted, “it was way more than that. He was…I don’t know, narrating or something. Any other college kid would try to play it cool or laugh it off or not say anything at all, but Damien…he was describing what was happening and how he was wetting himself.” 

    “He wet himself?!” Donna exclaimed. 

    “Yes,” Cami rolled her eyes. Donna wasn’t a psychologist – she wasn’t focusing on what Cami thought was the important part. “And he’s still in the bathroom downstairs.” 

    Donna frowned. “I’ll go get his bag. Poor kid. Thank God no one else is going to be here until tomorrow.” 

    Donna was a great mom, Cami thought, and of course she’d take care of Damien, but Cami could tell – this was more than just an unfortunate accident. 

    When Donna came back with Damien’s things, Cami followed her downstairs. Donna knocked gently on the bathroom door. 

    “Damien?” she called. “I have your things out here, in case you need them.” 

    There was a pause, and then the door opened slowly. Cami held back a gasp.

    The 20-year-old in front of her bore scant resemblance to the cheerful young man she’d met just hours ago. His eyes were red-rimmed and tear-filled, and there was nary a dry spot on the front of his jeans.

    Damien tugged unconsciously at the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it downward. Not that covering his crotch could do anything to distract from the drenched stretches of fabric all down both of his legs. 

    “I…” his eyes were glassy and his voice, though definitely scratchy, had the same blank quality that Cami had heard in the car. 

    “I didn’t make it,” Damien said, blinking. “I…I had to go so bad and I c-couldn’t get my pants undone in time and I h-had an accident on the f-floor.” 

    Donna tilted her head sympathetically. Cami definitely felt the same, but she kept her body language neutral. 

    “It’s OK, Damien,” Cami said softly. “It was a long ride back, and you tried really hard.” 

    Damien flinched and looked down at the ground. Making a mental note of the boy’s reaction, Cami decided that now wasn’t the time for excessive comfort or encouragement. 

    “We brought your bag, Damien,” Donna cut in, holding out the duffle bag. “You can get cleaned up and changed. There are clean towels on the rack in there.” 

    Damien looked up just enough to take the bag. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He paused for a second, then turned and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

    Both women stood silently for a moment before Donna let out a very low whistle. 

    “Woooooooow.” She turned back toward the stairs, and Cami followed. “I don’t know what I expected when you told me the kid had an accident, but that wasn’t it.” 

    Her words weren’t judgmental – just stunned. Cami understood completely. It wasn’t even that Damien had apparently lost all control in the bathroom; it was the continued blankness in his voice, like he was being compelled. There was still emotion there – the unconscious attempt to cover his wet pants, the shaking voice – but the way he spoke throughout the whole ordeal indicated…something.

    “Can you do anything?” Donna asked as they reached the top of the stairs.

    Cami pressed her lips together. “You know I can’t force anything on him.”

    “I know, I know,” Donna waved her hand, mildly irritated at her implied lack of understanding. “But can you do anything?” 

    “I’ll try.” Cami shrugged. Damien certainly needed some sort of care, and she had plenty of experience working with teens and young adults in her practice, but if Damien kept up this robotic narration, then there just wasn’t a lot she could do. 

    Downstairs in the bathroom, Damien stared blearily down at the giant puddle. He heard himself whine softly and realized that his lower lip was trembling. He could barely think, but he knew that he had to clean up. Himself and the bathroom. 

    In a fog, Damien reached for a towel. He dropped it into his mess on the floor, then started to strip off his wet pants. Several drops of urine squelched from the denim with the movement, spattering noisily onto the tile and making him cringe. Every part of him felt dirty – his hands, his feet, certainly his legs and crotch…

    The towel was sufficiently sopping by the time it absorbed his accident. Damien looked dazedly around the bathroom before deciding just to heap all the wet clothes in the corner. He finally turned on the shower. 

    Upstairs, Cami listened for the sound of the shower while she finished putting away the groceries. She ran through Damien’s behavior in her mind, trying to decide what she would say to him if given the chance. 

    The shower ran for about 15 minutes. Donna had retreated to her study to grade papers, feeling it was best not to overwhelm Damien. Cami set herself up at the island in the kitchen, working on her computer. 

    After a few more minutes, Damien stepped into the kitchen, hair wet and duffle bag in his hand. Cami didn’t look up at first, not wanting to make him feel trapped, but when he stopped at the side of the island, she raised her eyes. 

    Damien’s eyes were no longer blank, and his skin had regained some color, but the blankness in his face was replaced with complete shame. 

    “I…” Even his voice was back to normal, though quiet. “I think I should leave.” 

    Cami gazed at the young man, even though he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were down, seemingly fixed on the countertop. She took a breath before responding. 

    “If you want to go, of course you can,” she said. “But please know that you’re welcome to stay.” Damien still couldn’t look at her, so she put every ounce of honesty she could into her voice. 

    “Damien, no one here is mad at you or judging you for what happened. It’s not your fault. We won’t tell anyone, and we don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to.” 

    Damien inhaled shakily and grabbed his left arm, wrapping himself in a half hug. 

    “If you do want to leave,” Cami pleaded, “at least wait until the roads are a bit better. I’d really rather you didn’t drive in the snow, and I know Mom wouldn’t like it either.” 

    Damien looked out the window, where fat flakes were still falling copiously. His shoulders fell – Cami was right. As much as he wanted to escape, trying to drive anywhere right now was a terrible idea. Besides, he didn’t actually have any place to stay. He’d only thought as far as getting out of the house. 

    Cami was still looking at Damien; he could feel her gaze, but he couldn’t meet it just yet. “I…I put the…things…in the washing machine,” he explained, just for the sake of having something to say. “I hope that’s OK.” 

    “Of course.” Cami smiled encouragingly. 

    Damien didn’t respond, but he also didn’t move. 

    “Damien, can I get you something? A snack, or some hot chocolate?” Cami offered. “We weren’t gonna have a big dinner with just the three of us, but-“ 

    “I’m sorry.” 

    Cami stopped at the quiet interruption. Damien’s voice was stretched and raw, and his eyebrows were drawn together. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he struggled to compose himself. 

    “Damien…” Cami reached her hand across the island. “You have nothing to apologize for. I promise it’s OK.”

    Damien shook his head and finally looked up. To Cami’s surprise, he smiled sadly. 

    “It’s not,” he said, shrugging. “I know it’s not, and-“ He raised his voice slightly, preempting any argument from Cami. “-I want…you deserve an explanation.” 

    Ever the professional, Cami kept the pity she felt out of her face. She respected Damien enough that she didn’t bother telling him that he didn’t owe her anything. 

    Shifting from foot to foot, Damien pulled out one of the bar stools and pressed himself up onto it, letting his duffle bag drop to the ground. He fidgeted a bit, trying to get comfortable in a decidedly uncomfortable situation. For her part, Cami kept quiet.

    “Donna told you I’m a transfer student?” he began, and Cami nodded. “I started at…another school as a freshman.” 

    He clasped his hands together on the counter, steeling himself. “I didn’t know a lot about college, I guess. I just wanted to have fun and do well and make friends. So I decided to rush a fraternity.”

    Cami felt her chest tighten. Even if she hadn’t witnessed the young man have an accident, she knew enough to know that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant story. 

    “For this place-“ Damien seemed determined not to give any identifying details. “-they would assign each new guy to an active brother. There was group stuff, too, but basically each brother who wanted it would get one or two recruits that were…well, he could do what he wanted with them.”

    Damien was winding his fingers together, intertwining his joints. “The guy I was assigned to…he…I didn’t get it at first. He had me and this other recruit kneel for a long time, which was pretty standard, I guess, but then he…he kept giving us water. I thought it was weird that he wasn’t giving us booze, but then I figured maybe they were being more careful not to get freshman drunk so they wouldn’t get in trouble.

    “It was the other guy first. He started kind of wiggling and stuff, even though we both knew we weren’t allowed to talk, but the brother…he was, I don’t know, watching for it, I guess. So he said ‘What’s wrong, recruit?’ and the other guy said that he had to pee, and the brother just told him to hold it.”

    Shuddering at the memory, Damien took in a deep breath. “I just…I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know people could just be like that. I thought for sure that he’d let us go to the bathroom, but he didn’t. And I know…”

    Damian hunched he shoulders, ashamed. “I know the other guy and I, we could have just, like, stopped, or got up and walked out, because there were two of us and only one of him, but…we just didn’t know. We thought this was normal, and we didn’t know each other at all, so we didn’t know what each other would do.” 

    Cami had heard it all before, of course. Almost everyone who had ever been abused blamed themselves for not doing more to get out of the situation. She opened her mouth to tell Damien this, but his story wasn’t over. 

    “So the other guy finally peed himself, and then the brother kept us there until I…I had an accident, too. I thought maybe I’d get…maybe he’d be proud of me or something, I don’t know, if I held it longer, but it didn’t seem to matter. And then I thought that, OK, he made us both pee our pants, we’ll move on to the next thing, but we just…that was it.” 

    A tear slipped down Damien’s cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We had a whole week. Every free minute we had was supposed to be with our assigned brother, and all weekend. So that’s all we did. He would just make us drink a whole bunch and not let us use the bathroom. And he…it wasn’t just peeing ourselves. He wanted…he wanted us to talk about it. So he’d ask ‘What’s wrong?’ or ‘Do you need something, recruit?’ and we’d have to say that we had to pee or that we were going or stuff like that. If we didn’t answer or if we said something he didn’t like, he’d use the wooden paddle on us. So we had to…describe…everything.” 

    Cami didn’t say anything, but she pulled a tissue out of her purse and passed it across the counter. Damien sniffled and wiped his nose. 

    “We tried so many things.” Damien’s voice was like gelatin, thick and shaking. “And we never knew what he was going to do. Sometimes, we’d ask to go to the bathroom, and he would let us, but then he’d block the toilet and wouldn’t let us use it. Sometimes he’d act real mad that we had an accident, calling us babies saying that he could never let recruits in the fraternity who couldn’t keep their pants dry. But then sometimes…”

    Damien crumpled up the tissue and swiped at both of his eyes, but he was crying freely now. “Sometimes, he’d, like, comfort us, and say it was OK and we tried really hard to hold it, and he wasn’t gonna get mad as us for having a l-little a-a-accident.”

    Cami’s jaw was clenched so hard, she thought she’d crack a tooth. This was the Stanford Prison Experiment on steroids. This was the height of sadism. Although it definitely explained Damien’s odd narration earlier, it hurt to hear what he’d been put through.

    “At first, I just thought it was weird,” Damien continued, “but after a few days, I was so tired and sore and embarrassed that I started to cry, and then I couldn’t stop, and this other guy and me, we were just so tired and we never knew what to expect.”

    Drawing in a raggedy breath, Damien shrugged again, brushing off the hard part of the story. “I didn’t pledge, obviously. I don’t think the other guy did, either, but I don’t know. I barely made it through the semester. I was just hazy and off and confused. My GPA tanked, so I dropped out. I did online classes in the summer and fall before transferring here last year.” 

    Damien finally looked up. His eyes were red and glistening, but the tears had stopped falling for now. “I really am sorry about today. I’m sorry I was weird and just kept saying weird stuff. I…I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like I knew it wasn’t the same and I wasn’t back in the frat house, but I didn’t know, because it was the first time since…”

    He trailed off and sniffed again, lowering his head. Cami gave him a moment before she decided it was her turn to speak. 

    “I’m so sorry he did that to you,” she said simply. “No one deserves that kind of treatment.” 

    Damien nodded in acknowledgement. 

    “Damien, please believe me when I say you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything that was hurtful or on purpose, and Mom – Donna – and I just want to make sure you’re OK.” 

    Picking distractedly at his nails, Damien nodded earnestly. “I’m fine,” he promised. “I went to therapy and stuff, and I know all that, and it helps. I’m just…” He paused, lip trembling again. “I’ve been really careful since then, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I…like I was gonna wet my pants, so then today was just…”

    He hesitated before glancing up at Cami. “I was scared,” he admitted. “It’s not like I think you or Donna are gonna be mean to me, but I didn’t know, and it’s not like it’s OK to have an accident in a stranger’s car, anyway.”

    “Damien, I know you don’t know me,” Cami acknowledged, “and I know that just trusting that everything is going to be OK probably isn’t going to happen. But I promise you that you’re safe here, and Mom and I will do whatever we can to take care of you.” 

    Damien’s mouth curled upwards, almost imperceptibly, but then he frowned. “If…” His voice caught, and his face flushed. “It’s still OK if I say here?” 

    “Of course,” Cami assured him. 

    “Then…” Damien gripped his hands together. “I might…”

    He looked up, embarrassed, but Cami’s face was open and encouraging. 

    “When…that week at the frat house,” Damien murmured quickly, “I…I started having problems for awhile, and it stopped, but after today, I don’t know…”

    He took a deep breath, trying to loosen the tight feeling in his chest. 

    “Imightwetthebed,” he mumbled, then glanced up again, trying to read Cami’s face at this last admission. 

    Cami felt her heart constrict with overwhelming sympathy, but she just smiled gently. “That’s not a problem, Damien,” she promised. “If it happens, it happens. We can help you clean up.” 

    Damien let out a deep sigh, his whole body sinking in relief. “Thanks, Cami.” 

    He straightened his shoulders, looking exhausted. He rose off the bar stool and bent down to grab his duffle bag. “I think I’m gonna go to my room, then.” 

    Cami smiled and reopened her laptop. “Sounds good. We’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.” 

    Nodding, Damien smiled a bit sheepishly and walked out. 

    Cami inhaled deeply and gazed out the window. The snow had tapered off a bit, unlikely to do any more damage today. 
 

Edited by Sapphire3619 (see edit history)
Link to comment
On 12/9/2018 at 7:10 PM, nc_omo_dude said:

Great story! Thank you!

Thank *you* for reading!

On 12/9/2018 at 7:34 PM, desperatewet said:

This was a good story and I didn't see any obvious mistakes, so don't worry.

Lol! Thanks for checking :) How lazy is it to use readers as editors??

On 12/9/2018 at 9:54 PM, BENAir01 said:

Wow that was amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Thank you! I'm always glad when my whims of procrastination are enjoyed by others!

On 12/9/2018 at 10:36 PM, bazinga said:

Aww, Damien, poor baby! I know I comment on almost all your work but wow this one is absolutely amazing! I love how the little details you add give the story so much more depth. ?

You're so sweet!! I'm never sure if the details I imagine come through in my words, so I'm extra grateful for your comments!

On 12/9/2018 at 10:55 PM, Melificentfan said:

Damn poor Damien but that was a excellent story you are such a great writer I always love reading your stories

Oh, thank you so much!!  I love writing, and I love imagining, but it's just so gratifying when other people like my work!

Link to comment

Oh, my dear... I wanted to hug him! 

You know, I think that all of us likes desperation scenes, but what that guy made is terrible... I'm rather a comforting type, so I can't understand these sadists.

But the story was excellent, I enjoyed this, and I liked all of your characters again. I'm amazed by the variety of your scenes, because you can always find something new to write next to a great desperation story.

Link to comment
On 12/13/2018 at 10:38 AM, Pilly Christal said:

Oh, my dear... I wanted to hug him! 

You know, I think that all of us likes desperation scenes, but what that guy made is terrible... I'm rather a comforting type, so I can't understand these sadists.

But the story was excellent, I enjoyed this, and I liked all of your characters again. I'm amazed by the variety of your scenes, because you can always find something new to write next to a great desperation story.

You're so sweet! I'm so glad you like it and so grateful for all your comments!

5 hours ago, Lion1423 said:

This is good! I love how you always make it into a story deeper than just omo. Keep up the good work.

Thank you so much! The emotions are what make the wetting interesting for me, so I have to build a story around it to sate my imagination :) 

4 hours ago, Crosser67 said:

Quick question. Where do I go if I want to write my own of these?

Hi! I usually write on my laptop, then copy and paste into a newly-created topic ("Start New Topic" in Fiction and fanfiction). Is that what you meant? It's just like any other new post, really!

Link to comment
16 minutes ago, Sapphire3619 said:

Hi! I usually write on my laptop, then copy and paste into a newly-created topic ("Start New Topic" in Fiction and fanfiction). Is that what you meant? It's just like any other new post, really!

A lot of the users here have inspired me in writing, not just this genre. I figured out my problem, I was trying to start the New Topic on my phone but I moved it to my computer. I was able to start a new series today but I’ve only recently joined, so the support is appreciated. Thanks again, I’ll definitely take inspiration from more of your posts in the future!

Link to comment
  • 4 weeks later...
Guest sandiego78
On 1/18/2019 at 11:28 PM, Sapphire3619 said:

Occasionally! I'm quite picky - I won't write something unless I know I can really feel for the characters - but I never mind suggestions!

 

Maybe something along the lines of a young female teacher forming a bond with a teenage student. Nothing sexual, maybe the student (18+) comes from an abusive home and trauma has caused some bladder issues, maybe an issue with asking permission to use the toilet. The pair had already become close, the student had begun to confide in her when the student wets herself in class for whatever reason and it's a comfort story, maybe? I love your ability with comfort :) 

Link to comment
On 1/20/2019 at 10:45 PM, sandiego78 said:

Maybe something along the lines of a young female teacher forming a bond with a teenage student. Nothing sexual, maybe the student (18+) comes from an abusive home and trauma has caused some bladder issues, maybe an issue with asking permission to use the toilet. The pair had already become close, the student had begun to confide in her when the student wets herself in class for whatever reason and it's a comfort story, maybe? I love your ability with comfort :) 

Oh, this I can definitely do!!! Wow. Give me a few weeks. I have one story that I'm just finishing tonight, but then this one will be the next one that I do! PM me if you have any further details that you'd like to suggest!

Link to comment
Guest sandiego78
7 hours ago, Sapphire3619 said:

Oh, this I can definitely do!!! Wow. Give me a few weeks. I have one story that I'm just finishing tonight, but then this one will be the next one that I do! PM me if you have any further details that you'd like to suggest!

Would you mind PM'ing me? I can't figure out how to do it! :) 

Link to comment
  • 5 months later...

You are an amazing writer and I thank you, wholeheartedly, for all of the time and effort you put into your stories. I’ve been a member for about two years, but I have serious social anxiety issues and it’s taken me this long to be able to reply. I have noticed that the people on this site are really warm and kind, and I do hope I can continue to participate. Anyway, my gratitude is long overdue and, again, I say, “thank you so much.”

Link to comment
On 7/15/2019 at 9:12 PM, Penelope said:

You are an amazing writer and I thank you, wholeheartedly, for all of the time and effort you put into your stories. I’ve been a member for about two years, but I have serious social anxiety issues and it’s taken me this long to be able to reply. I have noticed that the people on this site are really warm and kind, and I do hope I can continue to participate. Anyway, my gratitude is long overdue and, again, I say, “thank you so much.”

Oh, that's so kind! I'm so glad you enjoy my stories. And yes, I agree that people on this site are among the most supportive I've encountered, and it's a large part of the reason I keep posting things on here!

Link to comment

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...