Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Or sign in with one of these services

Sign Up
Search In
  • More options...
Find results that contain...
Find results in...

All Activity

This stream auto-updates     

  1. Past hour
  2. that's hot! wold you update? i too love drynites
  3. Sounds like it will be god but most of it is strikeout and hard to read! Fix it if you can please.
  4. I don’t personally find humiliation a turn on, regardless of my feelings for the person who had the accident. The exception would be some mild, consensual fun, if I knew the other person was also into it....for example I would fully enjoy making my (willing) partner hold it through dinner....to the point of leaking (on a vinyl seat lol), and I think I could enjoy making him ask the wait staff for extra napkins to clean it up.... if he really was into that kind of thing, (and probably only if i were a little drunk) I might make him confess exactly what he needs to clean up, and add a comment about how he just can’t hold it I’m just really not really into being found out in public for wetting and I’m even less into public humiliation. I do however find it a huge turn on knowing someone else is turned on, so I could push my limits a bit if my partner really enjoyed that kind of thing. As far as what id personally find more humiliating it’s definitely wetting in public. I think it would be waaaaay harder to hide.
  5. Thank you. I am glad that you like it!
  6. Was this in the anime or the manga? You used both terms. Also, are you sure it was the main character? This website mentions a seemingly minor character wetting herself. https://allthetropes.fandom.com/wiki/Grenadier/Characters
  7. Never heard of that. Mind explaining what it is?
  8. Today
  9. Yes me and my late wife were very keen motor boaters off the UK coast early in the season my dear wife would often suffer bouts of sea sickness in a heavy swell these would often come on very quickly with little warning she would more often than not have been holding on to her pee far to long as did not want to go below and take all the gear off just to have a wee foul weather suit life jacket etc. We always kept a handy clean bucket in the boats cockpit as with her one moment she was fine then next moment she just kind of exploded and more often than not this would then just make her do an in voluntary pee as she heaved in to the bucket a few times! Not that it mattered as we more than likely had are cruising boots on and like I said full sailing waterproofs so often she just filled her boots with her wee! Plus the boats cockpit was self draining anyway. So It was never a big deal well she liked pee play but this was in her case a truly involuntary accident the one good thing was that after she had been sick in just a matter of almost a few minutes she was fine again and laughing telling me about the fact that her sailing boots felt all squelchy and warm!!! Kev.
  10. how did it feel to have a visitor whilst you were wearing a nappy? What did you choose to hide it?
  11. Trying to do the kazotsky kick and failing I hurt my butt
  12. This looks like it's probably really good but it's currently 95% struck - through! If you could fix that I'll definitely come back and read it.
  13. This is a fan-fiction of the anime "My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes lead to Doom!" an Anime which I cannot recommend enough. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mary was walking along the academia’s paths, her elegant orange dress scraping the stones under her. Before coming, he had checked, and Keith was currently inside class. It was so hard for her to spend quality time with Catarina these days, between all of her suitors. But now, Catarina was all by herself, and now Mary was bringing her vegetables, seeds, and a special diuretic-spiked water bottle. If all went well, Mary would comfort the wet and crying Catarina, and maybe even… Mary got warmer below her stomach. She couldn’t think of that now or she’d be distracted. She got to Catarina’s small garden field, where she was working energetically with a hoe. Looking up from her work, she saw Mary on the path; she smiled and waved at her. “Mary! What brings you here?” she asked enthusiastically. “Oh, I wanted to come by and visit you” she offered her basket, “I saw you hard at work and brought you some seeds for your garden and some water since you must be thirsty.” Catarina smiled widely. “Aw, thanks, Mary.” Thirsty from her work, Katarina a girly drink from the bottle. After she put it down, Katerina picked up her whole again and got back to work, planting the seeds and vegetables that Mary had brought her. “Say, Catarina, why do you work so hard at your farming even now that we’re at school?” “Well,” said Catarina, not stopping, “you’ve gotta be ready for anything. Farming could come in handy one day.” Remembering something, she asked, “So, Mary, is there anyone you like yet? How’s your relationship with Alan?” Mary looked fondly Catarina, “Well, he’s nice, but in all honesty, I like you.” “Hehe” That’s nice, but not what I meant. Soon, Catarina began shifting her legs, and eventually she put down her hoe gingerly. “Catarina,” Mary asekd innocently, “Is something wrong?” “I’m fine, Mary. I just need to go to the ladie’s.” Mary grew excited. “Well, Catarina, how about…” Just then, Mary heard Keith’s voice calling for Catarina. Shoot, he must have gotten out of class! Quickly, Mary Crab Catarina and pushed her towards the large tool said that was always near the fields. Catarina, surprised by this, accidentally squirted into her pants, the diuretic taking effect. They both went into the shed, Catarina desperate to hold her self now. As Mary closed the door behind them, Catarina began squirting uncontrollably into her panties, and she quickly took of her undergarments and squatted, peeing into the dirt. “Sorry, Catarina, it was just…” She turned quiet, and red, when she saw Catarina urinating so openly in front of her. Mary’s heart and breathing sped up, and she looked stunned at her love interest’s crotch. Finally, Catarina stopped peeing. “Ah…” She looked up. “Sorry Mary, I really had to go. Do you have something that I can use?” “Oh, uh, sure.” She handed over her handkerchief, and Catarina rubbed herself with it. Dressing, Catarina got up again and gave the handkerchief back. “Sorry about that.” She hugged Mary and pulled apart. “You’re a great friend.” “Uh, yeah.” After Mary and Catarina had left, later that night in her room, dressed lightly in pajamas, Mary locked her door and flopped on her queen-size bed. Grabbing her handkerchief from her night table, she smelled it fondly. It still smelled like Catarina’s pee. Mary remembered, warmly, how Catarina had looked so relieved to pee freely, and how… Soon, Mary couldn’t take it anymore and began rubbing her crotch. It felt good, and she rubbed harder. No one was around to hear her orgasm loudly.
  14. My first attempts at publising my artwork. Please be gracefull.
  15. This happened in 1974. That's when I was in high school. I'm not going to preach about 'things were different', or 'it was a different time', because it really wasn't. We didn't have a lot of the 'toys', that are common today, but people were pretty much the same. The first thing you need to know, is that in high school, I had a big, super major, mega crush, on Mrs. Jones. She was the English teacher. I . every class she ever taught. Not just the 4 years of basic, and advanced, English classes, but also, Creative Writing, Poetry, Drama, [of course] and, for some reason, Greek and Roman Mythology. I'm not sure how that fit into the English department, but apparently it did. It wasn't enough to just take the classes. I had to get straight A in all of them. There was no way I was ever going to look bad in front of my supermajor mega crush. At least, that was the plan. Of course, at some point, Mrs. Jones had the 'crush' thing all figured out, and took advantage of it, every chance she got. Not in a bad way, [where are all the female pedeofiles, when you need them?] but in an anything she needed done sort of way. Chalkboards erased? I'm on it. Erasers clapped? Consider it done. Paperwork that needs to go to the office? It's on the way to my next class, Mrs. Jones. She knew I was lying, but it didn't matter. There's no way the office could be on the way to my next class, for two classes a day, 4 years in a row. That's not even feasable, but it didn't matter. She wasn't going to spoil a good thing. Her classroom was on the third floor. It didn't matter to me that some of the other kids considered me a teacher's pet, or made those kissy noises, at me, I was what today's society calls a geek, anyways. In those days, we were called dorks. Same thing. Dork just sounds worse. Anyway, drama class. We were going on a field trip, to see a play, down in Seattle. That's about a two-and-a-half hour bus ride from where we were. Anybody that's read my previous stuff, knows that amount of time puts me into a serious, but not critical, need situation. If you haven't read it, maybe you should. I'm not going through the whole timeline thing again, but three hours, tops. That's my teeny tiny bladder's limit. I made it down there ok, but I'm glad there weren't any hangups. When we got to the theater, after the bathroom break, all the kids were hitting the snack bar for sodas, and snacks. The 32 ouncer seemed to be the going thing, so I got one too. That might have been my first mistake. I wanted to get a smaller one, but that damn peer pressure thing got the better of me. Everybody in drama club were dorks, [still that way today, ain't it] so this was MY crowd. I wanted to fit in. It's not as dorky a class as poetry, but still, way up there on the dorkyness agenda. This next little bit, doesn't really have anything to do with Omo, but it's germaine to the story, so I have to include it. This theater that we went to was really an architectual masterpiece. Beautiful. I was a navy brat, growing up, so I had been just about everywhere in the country. When I was 7, I had been to Ford Theater, where President Lincoln was assassinated, in 1865. Whoever had designed this theater, either intentionally, or by chance, had really duplicated Ford Theater's design. I was impressed. The play we were seeing was, "The Vagabond". There was a point, early in the play, where there was an off stage shotgun blast, which, of course, I didn't know about. As we all took our seats, and I swear, I didn't plan this, I ended up sitting next to Mrs. Jones. If I did have a plan, that would have been it, but that happened without me setting it up. I just figured the fates had just smiled on me. So the play starts. I was still thinking about Ford Theater. I was paying attention to the play, and what was going on, but at the same time, I was drifting back to 1865, and trying to figure out where Lincoln would have been sitting. Right about there. That's when the shotgun blast went off. I shot out of my seat "OH MY GOD THEY'VE SHOT THE PRESIDENT!!!!' As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted them back. It was too late. Everything stopped. As in, the world stopped turning sort of stopped. The whole theater was looking at me. Even the actors in the stage stopped, and looked at me with 'what the...' looks on their faces. I don't know how long it was like that. Too long. Finally, one of the actors turned back to his castmate, and spoke his line. I sunk back down into my seat, and the world started turning again. Then it got worse. Mrs. Jones leaned over, "What was that all about?". That's when I realized, not only had I just embarrassed myself in front of everybody, [not my first time] I was sitting right next to my super major mega crush, Mrs. Jones. No. The fates were not smiling on me. Then it got worse. As the play went on, I started to realize just how big of a mistake the 32 ouncer was. I don't know how long the play lasted. It didn't matter. The soda was accelerating the deteriorating situation, rapidly. Worse? I was sitting next to Mrs. Jones. I had already embarrassed myself once, and now this? I'm wearing faded blue jeans. Any leakage is going to show, and with me, any leakage, as I've previously explained in other stories, isn't leakage. It's a total loss situation. I was sitting there trying, not to squirm, any more than necessary, and hoping she wouldn't notice. At first, I think she didn't, but at some point, I saw her look over at me, in the face, and then look down at my legs, and then back up to my face again. Her lips were curled in to where you couldn't even see them, and pressed tightly together, with a little, evil smile, tugging at the corners. She knew. Fortunately, the play ended shortly after that. We still had to sit through the whole entire cast, taking their bows, one at a fucking time. Finally it was over. As soon as Mrs. jones was out of the way, I went charging past her. She already knew, so I didn't see the point of trying to act nonchalaunt. She actually started to ask, "David, what was that about..." "Later" I cut her off as I fled the scene. I was going to catch hell for interrupting, but I had bigger concerns. I raced into the bathroom. All the urinals were already in use, and the stalls were filling up quick. I dove into one of the last ones, slamming and locking the door with one hand, and tearing at my zipper with the other. I almost made it. By the time I got it out of my pants, the flow had already started. I got the walls, the floor, the tp roll, and the seat, before I finally got my aim settled down. When I was finished, I didn't even care, much, about the stall. I started checking my own personal damage. Besides really wet hands, my tighty whities were also soaked. fortunately, they had taken the worst of it. My jeans had a few sprinkles on the legs, from the flying pee, but the crotch area was still ok. With a dry crotch, water spots on the legs wouldn't matter. I just had to make sure the crotch stayed dry. With that in mind, I found enough dry toilet paper to dry off the seat, and sat down. Then, one leg at a time, I took them out of my jeans, and underwear, and then, back into the jeans. I threw the tighties on the floor, behind the throne, and went commando for the first time. I rather enjoyed the 'freedom', and ever since, have worn boxers. I had been in the bathroom so long, by this time, it was mostly empty, when I left. I was the last one to make it back to the bus. When I got there, Mrs. Jones was standing just outside the doors, waiting to finish the head count. As I approached, I saw her giving me the once over, as I knew would, and I was real glad that I had offed the undies, because I Knew that I was still dry. We got on the bus, and headed out. The bus we had was a 54 passenger bus, but we only had about 20 kids in the class, so we were sitting one to a seat. There were even a few empties. That was nice, until Mrs. Jones came and sat next to me. She had her own seat, in the front, so I was kind of suprised. That didn't last long. Turns out, she had a purpose. Her: "Is it later enough yet?" Me: "Later enough for what?" I really didn't know. Her: "Later enough for you to tell me about shooting the president?" Me: "Do I have to?" Her: "Oh yeah". Since there was no escaping it, I decided that, as long as I had to embarrass myself in front of her, again, I might as well do it up good. I told her the whole story, in every detail. The trip to Ford Theater, the similarities, the drifting back in time, to 1865, and being stuck there just as the shotgun blast went off. When I got to that part, she burst out laughing, after listening intently, up to that point. Literally, burst out. After about one second of that, one hand shot to her mouth, and the other to her crotch. She leaned forward, and arched her back. Her legs were shaking. I thought, 'Oh my god, she's going to pee herself!'. Her eyes closed for a few seconds, and her lips pressed together, and I could see the intensity in her face, as she battled for control. Somehow she won. When I saw her start breathing again, I knew. As she slowly relaxed, I saw her take a quick look behind the hand she had been holding herself with, to make sure, before she moved it away. She was still dry. Yeah, I looked too. Then she stood up, turned to face the other kids, and informed them that I was going to tell them all about the shot the president thing. So I had to relive that moment a third time. That was bad, but then it got worse. By the time we got back going, from the theater, we were in rush hour traffic. That turned a two-and-a-half hour bus ride into just over three hours. 3:06, to be exact. I know. By the end of the ride I was counting every minute. Desperately. Feeling the need gradually getting worse. At first, trying to not squirm, again, but as time passed, caring less and less about the 'not' part. The only saving grace was Marybeth. She was sitting in the seat directly across the aisle from me, squirming every bit as much as I was. I looked around the bus, several times. I saw a few 'concerned' looks, a few really intent looks, but as best as I could tell, me and Marybeth were by far, the worst. We were both way past 'concerned'. I was full on into 'please drive faster' mode, only not actually saying it. Marybeth was just as bad. At one point she asked me how much longer it was going to be. When I told her, her "Ohhh gawd" said everything. As we rolled into our home town she was full on holding herself with both hands, and not even being shy about it. I was only using one hand, because guys do 'that' a little differently than girls, at least I do, but I was every bit as bad off as her. As we rolled into the parking lot, Mrs. Jones stood up, and announced, that after a short break, we were all expected in the classroom, for a short discussion, before we were free to go home. By this time, school had been over for hours, so there were more than a few groans. I didn't care. I was all about the break. When the bus came to a stop, I fired out of my seat, intent on being the first one off. Problem was, Marybeth had the same plan. Now I'm just a little guy. I know every short joke there ever was. All the insults. All the smartass remarks. Marybeth was not a little girl. She's what you call a big girl. You would call her that, even if she wasn't overweight, which she was. She was the kind of girl, that if she was a guy, people would call her bubba, or ox, or moose, or something else, like that. She was really nice, but pretty was not her forte, even if she hadn't been so big. She was several inches taller than me, and about twice my weight, so when we met, head on, at the aisle, I went flying. I think she even put a little extra elbow into it, just to make sure. How I managed to not piss myself right there, I don't know. I bounced off the window intent on being next. I wasn't. The kids were piling off the bus in record time. I ended up being last. While I was waiting, I looked to see how Marybeth was doing. She was on a dead run for the building, still holding herself with one hand, and grabbing the door handle of the building with the other. She jerked with all her might, trying to get it open. She couldn't. It was locked. After a couple more jerks, she turned, and looked back toward the bus, looking desperately for Mrs. Jones, with the only set of keys. Mrs. Jones was by the door of the bus, counting heads, as we got off. It was finally my chance to move. Sure. Being the last one off, meant it took longer, but it did have a fringe benefit. Nobody was getting into the building, without Mrs. Jones, anyway, and with nobody behind me to see it, I could crush my thighs together, and waddle, moving only my lower legs, which was really helpful. Then it got worse. I got to the top of the steps down to the ground, ok, but as soon as I took that first step down, that whole keeping my thighs together thing went all to hell. I had not prepared myself for that happening, so when it did, The piss started to flow, and there was nothing I could do to to stop it. I tried, but like so many other times, with me, once it starts, there's no stopping it. In about one second, the kid in front of me was going to step off the bus, and I was going to be there, halfway down the stairs, full on pissing myself, right in front of Mrs. Jones, my super major mega crush, Mrs. Jones, and there wasn't anything I could do, to prevent it. I needed a miracle. Then I realized, I had a miracle. A miracle named Marybeth. Just as the kid in front of me was about to step off, I pointed at the school and blurted out, "MARYBETH NEEDS HELP!!" Hearing the desperation in my voice, I didn't even have to fake it, her head spun on a pivot, to look at Marybeth. Marybeth, by this time, was slowly sinking to her knees, with a puddle forming beneath her, and several other kids slowly backing away. Mrs. Jones went "OH fuck", and then "Hang on Marybeth, I'm coming!!", taking off on a dead sprint, and digging her keys out of her pocket, as she ran. That was the first, and last, time I ever heard Mrs. Jones swear. It was kinda hot, but I couldn't worry about that right now. I had my own problem. Just like I couldn't stand there, and watch her run, even though I did, for a couple of seconds. She had a really nice ass, and I am a 'bottom' enthusiast. Then my own situation became more important to me again, as she got further away. My situation was dribbling down my leg, and I needed to take advantage of my 'miracle', while I still could. I took off around the front of the bus, and headed for the parking lot. I ran out to my car, and stood on the far side of it, not even bothering to pull it out, this time. It was much to late for that. I just stood there, and took deep breaths of the cold evening air, and enjoyed the moment. I had somehow, managed to escape, detection. Then it got worse. I saw Marybeth, and Mrs. Jones, coming out into the parking lot. Mrs. Jones was comforting, an obviously distraught Marybeth. "It's ok Marybeth. Nobody's going to laugh at you." I was pretty sure they would. "It was a long bus ride, and a lot of the kids really needed to go. We should have stopped somewhere. That was my fault." You just gotta love her. Taking the blame on herself. Ok. It kinda was her fault, but still... "Just go on home Marybeth. You're excused from the classroom discussion. Nobody's going to laugh. I promise." At some point, I realized they were going to walk past me, unless they got to her car first. Like a wild animal, I just froze, hoping to go undetected. I couldn't move. Fortunately, Marybeth was parked two spaces closer to the building, one row over. The scared animal thing was actually going to work. Then it didn't. Just as Marybeth was starting to get into her car, she saw me. She just stopped, and got this real quizical look on her face. Mrs. Jones had her back toward me, but she saw the look on Marybeth's face, and turned to look where she was looking, at me. Then she got the same look, not quite sure what to think. "David?' she said, recognizing who it was. then it got worse. I was trying to formulate a response, when I saw it happen. Maybe it was the way I was standing, feet apart, a couple of feet back from my car, with my chest, almost against the window, my fingers dug into that little rain gutter that the old VW Beetles had. Maybe it was the look on my face. Maybe something else. Whatever it was, I saw her mood darken. She knew. Her: "David!!" Really mean like. "In the parking lot?!!" Me: "I couldn't help it." Her: "Why didn't you go in the building, like everybody else?" Me: "There wasn't time. I was as bad off as Marybeth." Marybeth got a real kick out of that. Her: "Ok. Fine. Whatever. Let's go." Me: " Huh?" Her: "Marybeth is excused from the classroom discussion. You're not. Now come on." My heart skipped a beat. She didn't know everything. Silver lining. She knew I had just pissed in the parking lot, but she didn't know I had just pissed MYSELF in the parking lot. Problem was, now she expected me to walk back into the building with her. Not gonna happen. Me: "I can't." Her: "And why not?" Me: " I'm not finished." Technically, not a lie. I had finished, but the pee was still dripping off my pant legs, and my pants were, of course, still wet, so I was not nearly as 'finished' as I would be, If I came out from behind the car. Her: Rolling her eyes, "Ok. But as soon as you're finished, I expect you in the class." Me: "Yes maam." Knowing I couldn't go. She turned on her heel, and stormed off. I put my head down on my car, and took a big sigh of relief. I didn't feel good about disapointing Mrs. Jones, twice, counting the one I was about to do, but it was still better than the alternative. Silver lining. Then it got worse. I didn't see her, didn't hear her. I just sensed her standing next to me. Mrs. Jones had returned. My heart lept into my throat, and my head popped up. It wasn't Mrs. Jones. Big sigh of relief. Short lived. It was Marybeth, laughing her ass off. Through gales of laughter, she sputtered. "This is so great! I'm not the only one! I'm gonna tell EVERYBODY!". Me: "No, no Marybeth. You can't" Her: "Oh yeah. I'm telling everybody. If they're gonna laugh at me, they're gonna be laughing at you too." Me: "No Marybeth. Please don't. I'll do anything." Her: " Oh no. I'm telling everybody". Me: " I'll do all your homework, for the rest of the year." Her: " I don't need my homework done. I'm not one of the stupid kids." Me: " I'll do anything. Anything you want." Her: " Anything?" Just the change in the tone of her voice, was a red flag. I knew 'anything was about to jump up and bite me in the ass. But how bad could it be? Worse than the whole school knowing I pissed myself? Me: " Anything you want." Her: " Junior Prom." Me: " Junior Prom?" That was still months away. It wasn't even 'asking' time yet. "And you won't tell?" Her: " Cross my heart", doing the motion. So that's how I ended up going to the Junior Prom, with a girl who was several inches taller than me, about twice my weight, and ugly as sin. It wasn't all bad. Silver lining. At least she was nice. And she gave good head. Tasted good too. Ok. Now I'm bragging, a little. If you can call admitting to an exchange of head for face, with a girl like Marybeth, bragging. She had kept her part of the bargain, so it was on me, to keep mine. It was Junior Prom. It's supposed to be a night she'll remember for the rest of her life. I did my best. Epilog: The next morning, after the play, I went to drama class, head down, and straight to my desk, avoiding eye contact with Mrs. Jones. It didn't work. Just as I set my books on my desk, "David", sternly, it was her. I turned, and looked. She was doing that hooking finger, c'mere motion, so I went to face the music. Her: " I noticed you never made it back to class last night." Me: " I couldn't" Her: " Why not?" Me: " After you saw what you saw, in the parking lot, and the whole Lincoln Assassination thing, I was too embarrassed. I couldn't face you again, right then. I needed more time." Everything I said was true. Ok, there was more to the story, but 'lie of omission', or not, she didn't need to know. Her: " Ok. I guess I can understand that. I want a written report, on your thoughts about the play." Me : " Ok" Her: " And see me after class." I thought I was going to have more 'pennance' to pay. I didn't. She just had some paperwork to take to the office. The flowers were especially sweet that day. I didn't even care about the kissy noises the other kids were making, or the grumbling about how I could ditch the 'discussion' and still be the teachers pet. Everything was right in the world.
  16. 100 downloads

    Warning: Nudity and choke-play (at the end) This is from pissqu33n: "my girlfriend touches & taunts my clit & presses on my bladder until i completely piss myself. once i start to lose control, she clasps her hand around my throat and teases me some more. holy FUCK this was fun to record, i love being a dirty little piss slut" Enjoy

    Free

  17. View File Teased and rubbed by girlfriend till she pisses Warning: Nudity and choke-play (at the end) This is from pissqu33n: "my girlfriend touches & taunts my clit & presses on my bladder until i completely piss myself. once i start to lose control, she clasps her hand around my throat and teases me some more. holy FUCK this was fun to record, i love being a dirty little piss slut" Enjoy Submitter orio111 Submitted 05/27/2020 Category Female  
  18. Is this story continued somewhere?
  19. You are all terrible people This is shaping up to be quite the routine!
  20. also possible to alternatingly do 10..20 very deep squats and 10..20 sit-ups from laying on the back to upright and then bend over to touch the legs with your face and your toes with your fingertips. And to try to go on even when hard bladder spasms happen...
  21. Agreed. If i need to peed badly and roll onto my stomach, leak some. But i can't figure why my worst position makes me pee. All it takes is a definite need. Then if I lean over a table (usually to read something) while supporing some weight on my hands (flat on the table), I'll pee 100 ml.
  22. that balancing with your bladder on a basketball...
  1. Load more activity
×
×
  • Create New...