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Showing content with the highest reputation since 05/04/2020 in all areas

  1. 66 points
    I'd been holding it for hours and was dancing around about to wet myself~ These pants are tight, and the waistband was pressing on my bursting bladder, I slipped my hand under it to hold myself but it didn't help much. I grabbed tight with both hands, but I couldn't keep it in anymore and pee started gushing through my fingers. I wasn't wearing panties and the warmth felt amazing soaking into the soft fabric 638001.mp4
  2. 53 points
    I needed to go sooo bad! I was busy playing games and my little bladder filled up quick, when I finally noticed I had to pee I was already about to have an accident I held myself and danced around, but it was too late, pee started streaming through my pantyhose and down my thighs. It felt so good My red panties got totally soaked, and it splashed all over my feet too~ 393090.mp4
  3. 43 points
    I had to pee so bad, I could barely hold it long enough to record. I was shaking with desperation and holding my pussy while I hopped around trying to keep it in, but the pee started flooding out anyway, it soaked my tights and dripped down my legs. Wetting_Dark_Tights.mp4 Bonus pic from right after wetting.
  4. 41 points
    Tonight I decided to do a hold after having some wine and I got so fucking desperate. I couldn’t sit still I had to go soooo bad. Eventually I knew I was going to piss myself, so I ran to the bathroom with one hand in between my legs before finally letting the warm pee run down my legs and into a puddle on the floor. Hope you enjoy
  5. 37 points
    I was dressed all in matching stripes and suddenly decided I really wanted to wet these panties, so I started a hold and took a quick before picture: I was impatient so I drank as much water as I could, and it didn't take very long before I was fidgeting around in my chair a little and pressing my thighs together. I got distracted by a movie after that, and sort of forgot I had to pee, but after about an hour I noticed I was holding myself and squirming without even realizing it. By that point I was desperate, but i'm stubborn and wanted to wait for the movie to end, so I stayed in my chair and wiggled around frantically with my hand pressed tight against my panties. After a few minutes I suddenly felt myself leak a little bit, and jumped up so I wouldn't get the chair wet. There was a tiny wet patch on my panties but my hand kept it from getting on the chair. I thought about trying to take a picture right then, but even thinking about it made me need to do a pee dance, I knew if I tried to use a camera I'd lose control and pee all over the floor and my stockings, I had to go so bad The movie was almost over but I stopped caring and just hopped around grabbing myself with both hands, I was seriously desperate and it felt like I'd pee myself any second. Another little leak came out and then a longer spurt, I almost couldn't move but I hurried to make it to the bathroom. I could barely think about anything except my bursting bladder, and I quickly took my hands away (leaking the whole time) and sat down and peed through my panties. It felt sooo good to let go, the warm rush of pee flooding against me. I barely made it, there were a few drops on the floor. Afterward I took some pictures, the wetness looks kind of subtle on this color, but my panties were absolutely soaked.
  6. 35 points
    Little clip, made a puddle on the shower floor~ I had to go and tried to hold it with my legs spread, but I couldn't wait very long, I felt the pee start to trickle out and I lost control and wet my shorts. 4970039.mp4
  7. 32 points
    A story from a past experience, I was around 19 or 20 and I remember it vividly. My friend and I had been on a several hour road trip to her family’s house, she was driving. I love to hold during long car rides, and she knew that and liked seeing me desperate, so I’d been drinking constantly and hadn’t peed the whole time. We were getting in at night and her family was gone until the next day, so my plan was to hold it all the way there and pee once we got to the house. That day I was wearing skinny jeans, black cotton panties, and a zip-up hoodie with nothing under it. I was fine for a while. I could feel the seatbelt pressing on my filling bladder and I was bouncing my legs and squirming in my seat, but I could wait. We talked a bit and listened to the radio, usual road trip stuff. Time passed and it got to the point where I had to shove my hand between my legs to hold myself, but my friend was used to seeing me like this so I didn’t care. We were still about 20 minutes away when I started feeling like I couldn’t hold it much longer, but we were on a busy highway and couldn’t stop, so I had to keep trying. I unbuttoned my jeans to relieve some pressure and jammed both hands against my crotch, squeezing my thighs together around them. Traffic was busy, and the little car was low to the ground compared to a lot of the bigger trucks around. The streetlights were bright, and I don’t know if anybody looked, but if they did they would have had a clear view down into the car of me holding myself and squirming. I held on like that for a while, but I had to pee so bad. We were getting near the house now, only a few minutes left. I almost couldn’t take it anymore. I was so desperate that I couldn’t sit still, I was frantically bouncing and crossing my legs and grinding my pussy against my hands. My eyes were tearing up from the effort of holding back my bursting bladder. I barely even remembered my friend was there, all my concentration was on keeping myself from peeing in her car. All I could think was “don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee” on repeat, it was maybe the most desperate I’ve ever been. As we turned onto her street I felt myself leak into my panties. It was just a tiny bit, but I knew I was about to burst any second, my hands were the only thing keeping all that pee inside me. I was so certain I wouldn’t make it that I started whimpering and apologizing, getting ready to just let go and wet myself all over the seat. But then suddenly we were pulling into the driveway. I couldn’t even think anymore, as soon as the car was almost stopped I fumbled with handle, flung the door open, and jumped out. I yanked down my pants as fast as I could and dropped into a crouch. Instantly the floodgates opened. My pee hissed forcefully out of me in a strong stream that arced forward and splashed loudly on the pavement. The rush felt so good that I couldn’t help my sighing moans, I was lost in the bliss, I just kept peeing for what felt like forever. As the huge puddle spread out from me, I gradually got more aware of my surroundings. I noticed some movement across the street. I was under a streetlight and couldn’t see very well, but I clearly saw the neighbor (a middle-aged man) get up from where he had been sitting on his porch and quietly go inside. It startled me and I felt myself blushing intensely, but I couldn’t stop peeing, I kept going until the last bit trickled out. Afterward I quickly pulled my pants back up and went to join my friend (she thought the whole thing was pretty funny). I felt bad for flashing this random man, I know he had a direct view of my pussy, but at the same time it was kind of exciting. If I hadn’t peed right then I would have completely soaked my jeans with him watching, I’m not sure which option was better. I don’t know if he ever said anything to anybody, and I never saw him after that, but I still get turned on thinking about peeing in front of him. There was another time after that when I’m pretty sure my own neighbor saw me wetting myself, but I’ll save that story for later
  8. 30 points
    This happened a few years ago. I was living with roommates in a rented suburban house, and none of us really knew any of the neighbors. Most were other renters, people moved in and out pretty often. While living there, I had a habit of going out in the backyard at night to pee, after everyone had gone to sleep. It felt so naughty to sneak off to the grass and just let go, technically in public but hidden by the darkness. Most of the time I wouldn’t wet my clothes. But that night I wanted something special. I decided I was going to wet myself in the yard, and I wanted to be as desperate as possible to make the most of it. The thought of releasing a torrent of pee down my legs in the cool night air made me so excited. Since I needed a super full bladder, I opened some cheap wine to sip while I waited. I didn’t want to be fully drunk, just tipsy enough to make it harder to hold, and make me pee a lot when I inevitably lost control. While I drank I got dressed up in a light pink bra and tank top, black miniskirt, and lacy pink panties. Then the important piece: light blue thigh-high stockings. They were made of thick cotton, so they would absorb any wetness quickly and show a very visible dark patch. I felt a little bit fluttery just pulling them up my legs. When I finished getting dressed I drank a lot of water, then settled in at my computer to pass the time. I kept slowly drinking my wine, and I felt myself getting slightly flushed and turned on, knowing what I was planning to do. As I played around online my bladder started filling quickly, and it didn’t take long to feel my first urge to pee. I squirmed a little but mostly ignored it. Time passed and I got deeply into whatever I was doing online, forgetting about my need to pee for a while. I eventually stood up to stretch, and quickly shoved my hand between my legs as I felt a surge of desperation. All the liquid I’d been drinking had finally caught up. My bladder felt hard and heavy, and I had to dance a little to keep from leaking into my panties. I wasn’t quite on the verge of wetting myself yet, but I wanted to be prepared, so I went outside to finish my hold on the porch. I sat down on the steps and bounced my legs, squirming around and pressing my pussy against the concrete. Everything felt so cold at night. It made me shiver, and I could feel my full bladder throbbing and begging for release. I was definitely a bit drunk, and that meant by the time I felt truly desperate I would only be able to hold on for a few moments, especially out in the cold with so much skin exposed. Alcohol gives me that “need to go NOW” feeling, so I end up escalating from holding it to letting go very quickly. It only took a few minutes on the steps before I was frantically grabbing myself, and I knew I couldn’t keep it in much longer. I stood up as carefully as I could manage and hurried to the middle of the yard, my hands pressed tight against my panties the whole way. Normally I would stick to the shadows, but in that state I didn’t think about it. This part of the yard was fairly exposed to other houses, but I was about to burst and feeling bold from the wine... Standing in the grass, I bounced up and down and held myself tight. I was so turned on, knowing I was about to lose control at any second. My bladder was barely holding on. Suddenly, a little jet of pee hissed into my panties, soaking my hand, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled my hand away and felt the wet warmth spread as I started peeing myself. My legs shook with relief as I finally let go, but just then, I heard the sound of a door opening. I froze, my stream stopping for a moment, and looked up to see my next door neighbor walking out onto his porch. He was holding a pack of cigarettes, and he looked to be in his thirties, maybe late twenties. I was facing his house, which meant he was also facing me, about twenty feet away. I saw him glance at me with surprise and I quickly looked away, pretending to be out for a walk enjoying the night. I tried to squeeze my muscles tight and hold it, but I couldn’t help it anymore, pee kept slowly streaming down my legs. I could feel it soaking into my stockings and I knew the wet patch was growing. I felt rooted to the spot, and just stood there silently, blushing and listening to the soft hissing sound of pee leaving my pussy. Even in this situation it felt amazing. I was tingling with excitement at the naughtiness of peeing myself out in the open with a stranger around. I didn’t know if he was still watching, but I stayed frozen like that until there was a little puddle around my feet. I managed to regain enough control to make it look like I was casually walking back to my house, but pee kept streaming down my legs as I walked out of view. As soon as I was out of his sight I let go entirely, soaking my stockings even further as my still mostly full bladder emptied itself. It was all I could do to keep from moaning at the release and the excitement, so I quickly shook my dripping feet off and slipped into the house, my heart pounding. Back in my room, I examined my clothes. It was exactly what I expected: my panties were sopping wet, and my light blue stockings were drenched, with a very dark patch covering my inner thighs and calves. From the front the wet spot reached halfway across each leg, it was extremely obvious that I’d peed myself. I was still blushing thinking about being seen, so I went to the shower to wash off and take care of my excitement. I never ran into him again after that. It must have been surprising for him in the first place, to go out for a smoke and find me all alone in the moonlight in a miniskirt and stockings. I don’t know for sure if he saw my wet legs, but even if he somehow didn’t see that (it was very, very visible), he still looked directly at me while I was peeing myself It was definitely more than I planned for, but it made for an amazing memory This was the experience I mentioned at the end of my other semi-related story:
  9. 25 points
    Hi there! So the past few days, I have had the worst bout of tonsillitis of my life. We don't think it's Coronavirus, but my doc has recommended I follow Covid procedure just to be safe, since there's some overlap in the symptoms, and no tests to be taken. So I'm off work for two weeks, and now that I'm capable of doing more than laying in bed, feeling feverish and sorry for myself while staring at reddit, the fortnight at home has given me plenty of time to write. I've been drawing inspiration from some of the times in the past couple years I've had genuine accidents. They're rare, despite what it may seem, and normally if I want to have an accident I'll deliberately set myself up for one. I wanted to tell you today about a completely genuine, unplanned accident I had just over a year ago, before I moved in to my current living situation. So strap in for another overly detailed, long-winded tale! The place I lived in before this was a house shared among three people, including the landlord. Someone, we shall never figure out who, tried to wash one of the landlord's dog beds in the communal washing machine. It tore itself to shreds, and got cushion fluff all into the inner mechanics of the washing machine, rendering it beyond repair. I lived in the same city as my parents then, and they were happy to let me borrow the washing machine. The place my parents live isn't the same place I grew up in. They have a proper Rust Belt apartment, complete with narrow hallways, rickety stairs with uneven, open gaps between them, handy thin walls you can chat to your neighbors through, a single shaky upstairs toilet I hate using, and more room in the basement than in the main living room. Why they chose to move there I'll never fully understand, but I was grateful to have a place to clean all my clothes, especially since I had put this trip off and now needed to wash the majority of my wardrobe. Besides, I hadn't seen them in a couple months, and this was the perfect excuse to have a nice, long visit with them. My dad has a white collar job, but a blue collar heart, so the first thing he did when I got there Friday evening with my enormous bag of clothes, was produce a twelve pack for us to drink together. I loaded my first batch of laundry into the tiny, clunky, old washing machine in the basement, came back upstairs, and enjoyed a beer with my dad (while watching him enjoy three or four) out on the porch in the cool spring air. It had yet to fully shake off winter, but the first brave few fireflies were out regardless. We watched them twinkle while dusk fell, swapping rants about work, politics, whatever. It was on the way back down the wooden, wobbly old stairs to the basement I first noticed my bladder was filling. It wasn't bad, like a 3/20, and besides, I hate using their toilet. My dad was rounding the corner on his fifth beer at this point anyway, so he'd be going to bed soon, and I wanted to keep chewing the fat with him, so I ignored it. By the time he hugged me goodnight and went to bed, it had built to a 5/20, but I had it in my head I could make it until I left their place and got back home. Besides, I only had two beers over three hours (I had to drive after all!) so it's not as if I was constantly filling my bladder with drink. I followed my dad back into their cramped living room, bid my goodbyes to him with my mom, and sat down with her to charge my phone and chat. My mom had me well later in life, and falls very early in the Baby Boomer range. As such, she's an old fashioned lady enjoying her retirement, with her cats and TV and is just now learning the wonders of Facebook. I took the opposite end of the couch to her, and let her fill me in on what was happening with the debates on TV. She told me they bought some of my favorite sparking water just for my visit, and to help myself to that and whatever was in the fridge. I swear, this isn't the first time Waterloo Black Cherry was my undoing. I thanked her, and grabbed a couple cans for myself and some snacks for us to share while we watched TV. I still remember our conversation when I came back: "Are you sure you're comfortable in those shorts, honey? Do you want to change into some different pants?" Which was her way of saying she didn't quite approve of how far up my thighs my cutoff jean shorts rode and how much leg I was showing off. "No, Mom, I'm comfortable. I only wear these while I'm doing laundry anyway." That seemed to reassure her. Our conversation kept me interested enough I hardly noticed my ever-growing need for the toilet, or just how much I was putting into my taxed bladder. I drank at least three cans of sparking water, talking to my mom about all the usual suspects. More politics, her cats, the majesty of Facebook, and how exactly she could sign up for Twitter and why she really shouldn't, and by the time the timer on my phone went off I really had to piss at a solid 13/20. But, fortunately for you and unfortunately for me, I am nothing if not a stubborn idiot. I inherited exactly two things from my Irish/Native American father: 1) A love for alcohol, and 2) sheer, inflexible, utterly spiteful stubbornness. My bladder had been bothering me enough over the last hour and a half I had grown resentful of it. I was going to hold it, damn it, at least until I was done with my laundry. Then, maybe, if my bladder didn't bug me too much I could go before I left. What a mistake that turned out to be. My bladder sloshed inside me as I made my way downstairs to put my final load of laundry in the washing machine. As it turned out, the machine still had a good 10 minutes on the end of its cycle, which was just short enough I figured I should just wait in the basement. I put on a brave face and ignored my bladder's protests, emptied penultimate bundle of clothes into my bag, and waited. My need grew to a 16/20 while the washing machine completed its cycle, every single splash of water within the machine seemingly punching me in the bladder. I unfolded an old, dusty outdoor chair in storage and tried to sit in it, hoping that it would help relieve the pressure. I unzipped my little jean shorts, letting the bulge of my bladder expand outward. Neither helped as much as I had hoped, and I felt the barest amount of moisture wet my panties. So I went from chair to wiggling my hips frantically in front of the washing machine, willing it to end, before returning to the chair again. If I were smart I just would've gone up stairs and peed, but no, stubborn as the ass I am, I stood there, desperate as all hell, willing myself to make it through. I reminded myself I used to hold it for 8 hours at a time in school, this was nothing. I am not going to wet myself in my parent's basement like a little girl. With 3 minutes left I was twisting my legs around, trying so hard to hold on, but not slip out of my flip-flops. I had both hands pressed hard against my crotch, now at an 18/20 as I felt the first few proper leaks into my panties and through my shorts. I felt the warm, silky liquid against my hands and realized this was not going to happen. I was losing. There was no way I was even making it up two flights of stairs to the bathroom, let alone making it until I could switch my laundry over. You'd think I'd find the situation hot, but, at the time, I was mostly just embarrassed. I started casting around for any solution to my issue, anywhere I could put this bladder full of piss when it inevitably gushed out of me. I considered hopping up onto a step-stool and hanging my ass over the utility sink under the stairs, but the angle of said stairs made that impossible. I still waddled my way over, trying to figure a way to squat over it or something, but no, there was no way. Another squirt of liquid hissed out me, through my saturated panties and wet crotch into my hands. I shook the droplets off as best I could, and wiggled in desperation. Each solution I ran through in my brain got more and more absurd. I saw a drain in the middle of the basement floor, but no, it was blocked, and I had no idea how to unblock it. I saw a bucket in the corner, but when I managed to trudge over to it, my legs held almost stock-still together, I realized there was a huge crack in the center, and I would just be peeing on the floor. Hell, I considered finding a corner behind the clutter, squatting, and relieving myself and hoping that my family either didn't notice or blamed it on the cat, but no, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Another huge, warm gush came uncontrollably out of my pussy, and ran down both my legs. This time I felt a twinge of relief on my aching bladder, and could barely resist the urge to just let go. There was a small puddle on the floor now, and another jet of pee added to it. I groaned, clenched as hard as I could under the pressure of both hands, and tried to make a last-ditch run up the steps. Every step I took on that ancient staircase with uneven spacing, another squirt came out of me. I was leaving pissy, flip-flop footprints on every other step. The squirts had become a solid, thin stream now that I couldn't get under control. I made it around the bend in the stairs, and I was almost to the kitchen when I just couldn't take it any more. My bladder won, and any semblance of control I had vanished. Piss gushed into my panties, through the soaked denim of my shorts, ran down my legs, and dripped down between the slats of the old wooden staircase. A tiny trickle of pee formed between my still-clenched thighs as I dropped my hands, awash in the relief of finally letting go. I swore and groaned in spite of myself, feeling my bladder finally empty. I took a step back, so the trickle of piss now running over my knees would end up between the slats of the stairs. My long-tormented bladder finished emptying just as the buzzer on that old washing machine went off. I slipped off my flip-flops, picked my way back down the stairs in my dripping jean shorts. I threw my shoes in the utility sink to rinse them off, stripped naked below the waist, and used what little fabric on my shorts wasn't saturated with pee to soak up the excess piss off my legs. At least I had another load of laundry to do anyway, so I washed my hands, put the now-clean laundry into the drier, and fished a pair of leggings out of my last load to wear commando. After adding the soaked shorts and underwear to the final load of laundry and starting it, I did what I could to wipe up the puddles with some paper towels, and walked back up stairs. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this! I feel like I might be getting too verbose, but this is how I write stories naturally. Let me know if you have any feedback, and if you have, thanks for reading!
  10. 25 points
    *** Nudity Warning *** If you dont like nudity, then look away. But I personally think we should embrace our body and be proud of it! Here is the full set of photos we took when I was relaxing and wetting myself in bed last night, then laying naked on my wet bed. Just because a lot of people have mentioned wanting to see my girly area naked. I wanted to post in a separate thread just incase some people dont want to see nudity. Hope you all enjoy. Happy Wet Weekend! Love Alice
  11. 24 points
    hot as fk imo, so sad its only a tiktok with not alot to see maybe turn your volume down abit, its really loud for me enjoy## https://www.tiktok.com/@carlylove69/video/6809703666405182726 incase she deletes it knee.mp4
  12. 22 points
    Wasn’t planning on holding tonight, but I had a few glasses of wine and some water and got sooo desperate. I had to pee so bad that I couldn’t sit still and had to keep one hand between my legs. I eventually ran to the bathroom but knew I wasn’t going to make it, so instead I stood in front of the toilet and enjoyed the feeling of warm pee soaking my jeans. My jeans got completely soaked and there was a huge puddle on the floor. Hope you enjoy
  13. 20 points
    I'm a longtime lurker, but new to posting, I just had to share my experience over the past 2 days. Female, 20s, for anyone curious. Thought I was gonna have more time home alone yesterday but everything went great either way. Everyone's gone, just me and my full bladder which I stretched even further by chugging coffee all morning. I put on a pair of undies and my light pink, loose pj pants to start and laid in bed to watch some wetting porn. I have an air mattress, and pulled back my blankets, laying only on a thin gray sheet. It was hard to pee at first no matter what position I got in, so I stood up and let a spurt out standing since it's easier. I let it go for about 3 seconds, and started getting a nice warm feeling down there that was caused by more than just pee then i laid back in bed and masturbated, trying to let more out but alas, my bladder was stubborn. Mom got home, I changed and threw a towel and blanket over my bed. When I went to be later last night, I had to pee sooo badly, I was also ragingly horny. So again I pulled up some videos and changed into light grey, tighter, pj botttoms. Immediately I felt like peeing, unlike earlier, it flowed out so easily and I was so wet in other ways that I barely felt myself peeing. I pushed for one spurt, and a small stream kept coming. It felt so good I never wanted it to end. But i cut the flow, felt myself some more, and decided to be really risky and just sleep as is in my wet pants and bed. Not too wet at this point, but enough to show easily. I woke up around 3am needing to piss so badly. Masturbating really fills my bladder for some reason. So fuck it, might as well go big or go home. I pushed a few times and the third push, a large spurt gushed out. Then I countinued pushing as hard as I could (laying on my back) and I probably let out about 1/2 my bladder. The warmth spread almost down to my knees from how forceful my stream was. I continued to let small spurts out for a while, while continuing to masturbate. I also discovered that if I push like I'm trying really hard to pee while rubbing my clit, it leads to the greatest orgasm ever OMG. can't wait til I have my own place and can do this more often, preferably a true desperation accident some day.
  14. 19 points

    TicToc

    New TicToc challenge Altına işeme challenge.mp4
  15. 18 points
    Hello, long time lurker first time poster here! Due to an extended period of free time and my delayed graduation from university I decided to write down one of the many experiences of my friend from university! This took place two and half years ago when I, along with my friend were in our first year of university (so we were 19). First let me tell you a little bit about my friend, who I’m going to call Sunny, she’s about 5’5, slim but athletic (she was a ballet dancer), Korean, long black hair, B cup breasts, very pretty face and a self proclaimed ‘tiny bladder’. She was very open and often makes jokes about the fact she ALWAYS needs a wee, and trust me I have many stories about her having to piss on the side of the road on the way to the nightclub or having a few small (and less small) accidents. On this particular Friday night in First Year all of our other flat mates decided they were going to go out to a club to celebrate finishing their exams for the year. Sunny and I, however, hadn’t finished yet but as we didn’t have an exam until Monday decided against super drunk at a club but still wanted to go to the pub for a few drinks to celebrate the end of the week. We made our way to a popular pub off campus and got our drinks, Sunny was wearing a tight black bodysuit and tight blue jeans. Now of course Sunny’s small bladder was especially evident when she was drinking alcohol and as she weed pretty early on in out time at the pub she ‘broke the seal’ so to speak and therefore after one drink would go to the toilet every 10-15 minutes. When I got (jokingly) annoyed at her for leaving me at the table on my own so often and told her to hold it she replied: “I actually can’t hold it, I’ll wet myself” Around 12:30am we decided to call it a night and we were both sufficiently tipsy and giggly, before we left Sunny decided she was going to use the bathroom but she came back about 2 minutes later. “That was quick” I commented “Yeah the line was about a mile long, I don’t actually have to wee anyway I just wanted to make sure” she replied So we started our walk about 20 minute walk home, pretty quickly Sunny clearly needed the bathroom, a fact she voice loudly “I take that back I really need a wee” “Well we have a bit longer to walk so you’re gonna have to hold it” As we were walking Sunny would hop up and down and complain about needing a wee bit I told her to stop over exaggerating. After about 10 minutes Sunny had a enough “Shit I can’t hold it, I’m just gonna piss in an alley or something” “You can’t, we’re walking along a main road for the rest of the walk you’re gonna get arrested for public urination, you’re gonna have to hold it!” We both knew that this was true and she’d have to hold it until we got back to our flat. This walk was done with Sunny struggling immensely, hoping up and down complaining often saying “I’m gonna wet myself” in a singsongy voice. Sunny, who was a notoriously slow walker, was pacing ahead of me “I love how you only walk quickly when you’re about to wet yourself” “Oh you have no idea, a little bit has already come out” she replied, though still quite lighthearted about the situation. We got to a traffic light and had to wait for it to turn green (a surprising amount of cars on the road at 12:45am!) and Sunny was dancing on the spot, she suddenly turned around and showed me her arse “Summer you need to check if you can see I’ve weed myself!” I inspected her jeans and saw a small spot on her crotch and little dribble down her legs, because her jeans were blue the dark discolouration stood out quite a bit. “Yeah a little bit” “Shit! I’m definitely gonna wet myself” Sunny quickly resumed her pace of about 20 steps ahead of me and got to the front door to our uni halls before me but I saw her waiting outside the door instead of going inside, then I remembered she didn’t have her keys! I quickly caught up to her so I could let her in the building (though not as quick as I could have been, I was enjoying this show) “Open the door now, I’m literally wetting myself right now” she said as soon as I was in earshot, I looked hat her jeans and there was a sizeable wet spot now visible on her crotch between where her hands were grabbing desperately at her pussy. I quickly opened the front door and Sunny ran past me, but my key was really old and out Uni was was pretty cheap and my key often got stuck in the lock, unfortunately (or a suppose fortunately) this was one of those times. As I struggled to get my key from the lock Sunny was waiting outside our front door “Summer, I’m not being funny but you need to hurry up because I am WETTING MYSELF” she yelled at me. I got my key out the door and ran to our front door and opened it, Sunny ran past me and started running up the stairs to the bathroom. From my place behind her on the stairs I could see that she was full on wetting herself, not little leaks, not long spurts but uncontrollably peeing in her jeans (and on our carpet). She ran up the stairs and quickly disappeared into the bathroom. After a minute I heard her voice from the barely closed bathroom door. “Summer?” “Yeah?” “Can you get me my pjs?” Instead of answering opened the door to the bathroom and saw her sat down on the toilet with her jeans still on with a puddle in front of the toilet, she couldn’t even get her jeans off before completely emptying her bladder! “Didn’t make it?” I asked laughing “Oh no, I made it and then decided to pee again but in my jeans this time” she replied sarcastically, but very good natured, she was never one to take her accidents too seriously and laughed it off I got her pjs, she changed and we went our separate ways to bed, after she cleaned her piss off the floor and stairs! We still laugh about this and her other accidents to this day! Hope you enjoyed this story! I’m not too confident in my writing abilities so please feel free to leave feedback! If you did enjoy this story I have plenty more from Sunny and her weak bladder (including a bed wetting I caused lol) Summer
  16. 17 points

    The Market

    She purposefully hadn’t peed before they left, or even before that. In fact, she’d been avoiding the toilet since her morning pee, and drinking just a little bit more. An extra coffee, a second glass of water after brushing her teeth, another bottle for the road. They were headed for the market, a quaint mix of fruit and vegetable stands, homemade baked goods, flowers....just a fun, relaxing Saturday morning outing they often made. She could already feel the fullness building as she hopped up into the truck and pulled the door shut, looking sideways to see if he was watching before pressing her legs together and briefly closing her eyes, enjoying how sensitive everything felt. She’d purposefully worn her favourite silky panties, and soft skinny jeans. Perfect up against her already tingling pussy and perfectly full bladder. Opening her eyes she caught him looking, and blushed as he grinned and gave her a knowing look. She put on her best wide-eyed innocent look, fastened her seatbelt, and turned on the radio before purposefully taking a long drink from the water bottle. Raising his eyebrows at her, he reached his free hand over, running it gently up her leg as they set off. A short drive and a half a water bottle later, and they were there. She unbuckled and hopped down, quickly squeezing her legs together at the unexpected jolt. Her hand darted to her crotch, and then quickly back to her side as he came around the corner of the truck. “Need to stop before we go in?” He asked innocently, sliding his hand across her ass and squeezing gently. “Nuh uh” she replied, squirming just a little against his hand, before starting to walk. They strolled around slowly, stopping occasionally to look, or buy, her movements becoming ever less relaxed. Her bladder was full to brimming, stretched and achy, her whole pussy tingling with need. Every time they stopped she took the opportunity to press her legs together, squirm and even bounce a little. Her hand holding his, squeezed tighter and tighter. “What’s wrong baby?” He asked, grinning. Turning, she reached up on tiptoes, her soft lips against his ear, and whispered “I have to pee..... sooooooo bad”. As she shifted away from him, her hand ran quickly across the sudden bulge that had formed in his jeans. “Do you want to go?” He offered, never one to push when she wasn’t comfortable, but knowing full well she was loving every second, based on her flushed cheeks, hard nipples pushing up against her right t-shirt, and the naughty gleam in her eyes. “Of course not!” She said indignantly, “we haven’t got donuts yet!” Making their way over to the corner, they fell into the snaking line for the ever-popular fresh made donuts. Deep fried and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, they were always worth waiting for. She squirmed and bobbed as they waited in line, shifting from one foot to the other, her pussy becoming slick with a combination of her own need, and the friction of her silky panties rubbing against it. Finally, donuts in hand, they made their way back toward the truck. He loaded their purchases in the back and came around to open her door, catching her shamelessly grabbing her crotch, her legs wrapped tightly around her hand. “Mmmmm let me help” he said in a low voice, opening her door and cupping her ass to help her up, his hand sliding forward between her legs as he boosted her in. She ground back against his hand, whimpering a little as he let go. “Hurry” she said breathlessly. He obliged, and soon they were backing out, and on the road home. She kicked off her sandals and pulled one leg under her, grinding against her heel, her bladder pulsing and her pussy throbbing. “Ohhhh” she gasped out, “I don’t think I can make it” she whimpered as she squirmed and wiggled. “Hush baby, you’re fine” he soothed “let me help” he said, reaching over and pressing his hand firmly between her legs. “Mmmmmm yesssss” she sighed, pushing his hand harder against her quivering pussy as she ground against his fingers frantically. Her panties were slick and her whole sex was on fire, she needed to pee sooooo badly, but she wanted to cum even more. She reached over and ran a hand over the bulge in his pants, finding a small slick spot. “Awwww fuck” he breathed as she pulled out his hard cock and began to stroke it in Slowly as she rocked against his hand, still firmly against her hot pussy. “Ohhhhhhhhh” she gasped again, and stopped moving for a second. Instantly he felt a gush of hot wetness against his hand, as she gasped, and resumed her frantic rocking. “Oh baby, I’m not gonna last” he warned as she continued to stroke him. “Just let go” he begged, rubbing her slippery, wet pussy harder and faster, as he felt himself slip closer and closer to the edge. “Ughhhhh” she cried out, climaxing against his fingers, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her pink lips falling open as she let go. A gush of pee soaked her jeans, flooding his hand even as he continued to caress her. “Ohhhh yesssssss, so good” she gasped, stroking him faster and harder. As warm wetness continued to spread down her legs and pour over his hand he couldn’t hold back any longer. Groaning, he came hard, coating her hand with his own warmth. As they both recovered, she opened her eyes and looked around a bit guiltily. “Ooops....” she said with a mischievous grin, as she surveyed the damage. “Sorry....”. Grinning back, he reached over to stroke her face as he replied “Don’t be, that was the best trip to the market ever!” (My first attempt at fiction)
  17. 17 points

    Wet grey.......

    Wet my lacy panties
  18. 16 points
    This video has alway been one of my favorite wetting videos. There is not that much wetting. But there is something about her trying to pee at the start. Then tur 480P_2000K_275529751.mp4 ning on the water to help get the flow started. Then drink some tea. But one of the biggest turn on is when she checks to "make sure no one walks in while peeing myself". I just love this video!
  19. 16 points

    TicToc

  20. 15 points

    828 downloads

    I tried to hold it as long as possible but couldn't last any longer. I hardly managed to get the camera out before I lost control, the piss gushing out of me in heavy spurts. The seat was thoroughly soaked.

    Free

  21. 15 points

    last night

    Last night I got home from work desperate (as usual), but my roommate was in the shower. Decided to film what happened. https://drive.google.com/open?id=1XF4s1YUAjPKDvEQpQu3lnuCm-ULki1is
  22. 15 points
    Here's a story from a few years back. I used to do challenges where I'd drink plenty, head out for a few hours and try to hold it until I got back. On this particular day I waited until I hadn't peed for a few hours but didn't really need to go at the time, then drank some water and headed out to town (about half an hour bus ride) to do some shopping for a while. I hung around in town for about an hour feeling my bladder rapidly filling up before I decided I should probably start to head home. I went to the bus stop, and I had missed the bus I wanted to get, not much of a problem because the next one was in 20 minutes and I could still wait a little while. Of course that 20 minutes turned into 25 minutes, 30 minutes, 35 minutes... by the time the bus finally turned up about 45 later minutes I really was getting quite desperate. The bus seemed to be moving painfully slowly as I sat there squirming in my seat, getting more and more uncomfortable. Other passengers probably noticed my situation, but I didn't really care. Once I got off the bus I basically ran towards home, trying to walk as fast as I could while also focusing on holding it in. For some reason getting closer to my house seemed to make the need even worse. I got to my door, fumbled in my bag for my keys... then felt the pee start to come out and I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to make a puddle indoors, so I just stood there on my doorstep pissing in my jeans, enjoying the feeling of relief and the warmth spreading down my legs. I don't know if any of my neighbours saw me. At the time this was the closest I'd come to peeing myself in public. Anyway, there's my story, hope you enjoyed it.
  23. 15 points
    Vividly. It was shortly after I found this site, about three years ago. I was outdoors, walking through the bush right after a rainstorm. I figured that would explain away the wet In lieu of confessing my age, I’ll reshare the pics I had originally posted
  24. 14 points

    1,444 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

  25. 14 points

    New tiktok wetting

    IMG_2696.MP4
  26. 14 points
    I'm super bored stuck here in quarantine, I've been interested in omorashi for awhile but I decided to try it myself. I laid a towel on my bed and just peed whenever I wanted to, I was wearing my favourite panties too. It felt really good whenever I peed because my panties would get really wet and warm, i might do it more often.
  27. 14 points
    While chatting with a friend on here, I recalled a rather fun memory and thought I would share it with you all! I hope you enjoy. In the summer of 2014, I travelled out to the West Coast to take my mind off a bad break-up and generally enjoy the sunshine and a change of pace. I took the opportunity to explore Tinder for the first time, and had myself a wonderful time with a lot of lovely people. One of them I particularly took to - let's call him Drew. On our first date, I knew we had a great connection - he was smart, handsome, tattooed, articulate, multi-lingual, and we had the same taste in weird books. The only reason I'm supplying these details is to explain just how enamored I was, and thus how much I wanted to impress him. After that first coffee date, we quickly arranged a second date, for a more traditional dinner date. The night of, I put on my shortest floral print sundress and set out into the city to meet him for Ethiopian food. The meal was delicious, and I was trying so, so hard to make sure he liked me as much as I liked him. Everything went smoothly - we finished eating and he asked if I wanted to go walk around a nearby park. I made sure to nip to the restroom before we left for a perfectly average pee, checked that my makeup was still up to par and off we went. Now, the summer of 2014, I was not yet 21, and so we couldn't go grab drinks as date tradition would usually go. Luckily for us, Drew had a leather coat with a special trick: inside was a pocket in the lining that could fit a whole bottle of wine, and the jacket was big enough to hide it perfectly! We got to the park just as dusk was beginning to settle into the sky, and found a nice patch of grass to lie down on and talk. We went through the bottle quite quickly, and by the end of things I was quite thoroughly tipsy. Now, prior to this, I didn't have a whole lot of experience drinking, and thus was unfamiliar with exactly how much faster booze feels like it's filling up your bladder than other beverages. After probably an hour and a half spent chatting and laughing and making out, it started to get chilly and Drew asked if I would be interested in going back to his apartment. I immediately said yes, of course! As soon as I stood up, though, I realized there was a problem. Already, I had to pee quite badly, but if this city's public parks had restrooms at all (rare), they were certainly closed at this point. I have good faith in my bladder capacity and control, though, and so I judged it to not be a problem and set off with Drew. What I didn't realize was that Drew lived nowhere nearby, and between me and a toilet lay a walk to a bus stop, a bus ride, and then another walk to his apartment! The walk to the bus stop wasn't so bad. I could definitely feel all of that wine sloshing about in my bladder, but the warm buzz of the alcohol and the incredibly pleasant company kept me well distracted. Waiting for the bus, I was perhaps pressing my knees together a little more tightly than I would have otherwise, but the brisk night air provided good cover for this. I was grateful that the bus arrived quickly, and even more grateful that there were seats available. I asked Drew as subtly as possible about how long the bus ride would be - imagine my horror when he said about half an hour! I took a deep breath and resolved to remain cool. Admitting to needing to pee on a second date felt embarrassing, somehow, even though as an adult I don't count myself as being particularly pee-shy. The situation quickly grew worse. The roads in this particular city are not tremendously well taken care of, and every bump and pothole felt like it went straight to my bladder. 15 minutes into the ride I had my legs firmly crossed and was struggling to focus on what Drew was saying. I forced myself to breathe deeply but normally, clenching the muscles in my thighs but keeping my face relaxed. I just simply could not bring myself to let on to him that I was now desperate for a bathroom. The minutes ticked by, and I, wholly unfamiliar with the city, kept my eyes locked on his face, hoping to be able to see the spark of recognition that would occur when our stop arrived. To my disbelief, my bladder felt like it was continuing to expand - how much more wine could possibly be left to filter through my kidneys? Finally, finally Drew said the magic words - "Oh, here we are!" I gasped when I stood up. If I thought it was bad when sitting down, gravity introduced an entirely new level of desperation. I had long passed the point where I would have described myself as badly needing the restroom - I was desperate to piss, and soon. I carefully minced my way off of the bus, Drew's long legs carrying him far ahead of me. He stopped to wait for me and asked if I was okay, but I still could not bring myself to even hint of my condition, and instead blamed it on my shoes, even though I was wearing Doc Martens and not any kind of high heel! How far away is your apartment?, I asked, trying to keep all manner of stress out of my voice. Oh, not too far, just a few minutes - he said - it's just up that hill! Now, walking around with a bulging bladder is bad. Walking up a hill? Much, much worse. I truly, truly could not remember the last time I had needed to pee this badly. It was all I could think about. With every step, I was hyping myself up in my head. You're almost there! Just a few more minutes! You made it so far, you can't give up now, you can't piss yourself, he'll never want to see you again! Just a few more minutes and you can quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom, sit down on a toilet and gush to your heart's content... Oh, a toilet. How badly I wanted one. For a brief moment, I sincerely considered the possibility that I was going to have to ask him to stop so that I could squat behind a bush, but just the thought of having to make that request was enough to make me want to die, let alone the thought of him standing feet away from me while I gushed out what I knew would be a lengthy and loud stream. I cannot stress enough how happy I was to finally arrive at his building. But alas - the perils of dating cool artsy boys include the chance that they might live in a commune. And if they live in a commune, there might not be enough spare keys to go around. And if there aren't enough spare keys to go around, the only way to get into their room might be to CLIMB UP A FIRE ESCAPE AND CRAWL THROUGH A WINDOW. I nearly cried. I absolutely insisted that he go first because I was truly afraid that I would start losing spurts climbing up the ladder. By some miracle and sheer force of will, I made it up the ladder and into his room with perfectly dry panties. It's honestly amazing the lengths I can convince myself to go for a cute person! Taking a deep breath, I asked him impressively calmly if he could point me towards the bathroom. Oh yeah, it's just down the hall, first door on your right. I slipped out the door pretending to be a normal person, but as soon as it clicked shut behind me my hands immediately shot between my legs and I ran towards that bathroom door. I'm sure you can imagine that artist commune bathrooms are not the most well-kept environments, but oh, that was the most beautiful toilet I have ever laid eyes on. I slid my panties down in a heartbeat, threw myself onto the seat, and - nothing. Nothing?? Nothing!! Tears legitimately formed in my eyes. I had been wanting to go for so long, bursting for hours, thinking of nothing but how good it would feel when I could finally relax and let a thick stream go, but no. My muscles had been locked down for so long that they had seemingly forgotten how to relax. I pressed gently on my bladder, which looked like it had replaced half of my abdomen. I took deep breaths. I thought about waterfalls. I thought about Drew in the other room, and how if I took too long, maybe he would think I was doing something else and he'd be grossed out and then he wouldn't want to sleep with me. I truly think that last fear is what pushed me over the edge. A trickle crept out from between my lips, and I gasped, so afraid that it would stop as soon as it began. But it didn't. The trickle continued, and grew to a small stream. The small stream grew to a strong stream, and then there it was - the incredible gush I'd been waiting for all night. I stifled a moan and leaned back against the tank, the change in angle causing my stream to become even more pressurized. It was striking the porcelain in the front of the bowl, now, creating splash-back on my inner thighs that I knew I was going to have to clean up thoroughly, but I was too relieved to care. I wish so dearly that I'd had the forethought - or the time - to pull out my phone and time myself, because boy was this some piss. It went on and on - have you ever been so desperate that you don't even start feeling like the need to pee has decreased until substantially into the pee? I truly, honest to God, think I probably hit at least a minute and a half. I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. Eventually, the gush died down to a steady stream, the steady stream to a slow one, the slow one back to a trickle, and then I sat there for another little while just pushing down and shooting out short little bursts, making sure my bladder was finally totally and completely empty. The rest of the night was a roaring success, but honestly, in my mind, that piss was just as good as everything that followed.
  28. 13 points
    Here's another story from a few years back, with my (now ex) boyfriend. I'd done smaller desperation challenges before, but this time I decided to do a whole day one, with him there just as moral support. He wasn't really into pee stuff that much, but is happy to go along with it because he knew I enjoyed it. The night before I got up to pee at around 5AM as usual, this would be my last one for a while. When I got up in the morning I didn't need to go since I was probably a bit dehydrated over the night, so I got dressed, had breakfast and plenty to drink, and got ready to go out. I put a padlock on the belt of my jeans so I couldn't remove them and then we headed out for a trip to the city for the day. The plan was to stay out all day and hold it in, of course I wouldn't be able to last that long so I at some point I would be forced to wet myself whether I wanted to or not. Throughout most of the morning I was fine, I could feel my bladder filling up fairly quickly since it must have been about half full when I woke up anyway, but it wasn't a big deal and I could ignore it. We walked around a park for a while. But by lunchtime the need had come on quite fast and I was now starting to get quite desperate, fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat. I wanted to go straight home because I knew if we left right away I could probably get back without having an accident, but my boyfriend encouraged me to keep going and suggested I test my bladder strength in a busy public place like a museum. I agreed to this rather reluctantly. About an hour or so later in the museum I was really starting to struggle, my bladder felt like it was going to explode and I didn't think I could hold it much longer, but with so many people around I was trying (and probably mostly failing) to appear normal. A few people gave me odd looks as they must have seen the pained expression on my face. I started to panic a bit and tried to calm down, but I couldn't think of anything other than how badly I needed to go. Eventually I turned and whispered to my boyfriend "I'm going to fucking piss my pants" and ran out of the museum, desperately looking for somewhere I could pee without being seen. I managed to find a somewhat quieter side street that would have to do. I made a futile attempt to pull my jeans down, but they wouldn't budge and I could not hold it anymore so I had to unleash the flood into them. Several people walked past as I was pissing myself, but the relief after holding for so long and the excitement of wetting myself in public meant I didn't care that much. When I was finally done there was a very visible dark patch on the inside of my jeans, and I then had to walk back through busy streets and get on the train home in very obviously piss-soaked jeans. Many people gave me odd looks but nobody said anything, and the fact that people could see what I had done really turned me on. By the time I got home I had to piss again, so I wet my jeans a second time before getting changed.
  29. 13 points

    646 downloads

    A girl is tied up spread eagle in panties and a top and tickled all over till she eventually wets herself. I stumbled across this video on VK and wanted to share it. Overall it's a good video (and new for me) but the restraints are, in my opinion, a bit loose. The tickling could also be "harder" but that's just me. Either way, enjoy!

    Free

  30. 13 points

    DLSL-302

    1,222 downloads

    Office ladies with full aching bladders have to find alternative and creative ways to relieve themselves before they wet there panties Enjoy

    Free

  31. 13 points
    Twitter user cuteleaks uploaded a series of really cute videos featuring her holding, leaking and eventually wetting in her jeans. I took the liberty of merging the videos into a single file for viewing comfort and downloadability. All credit goes to cuteleaks on Twitter: https://twitter.com/cuteleaks First tweet in the series: twitter cuteleaks leaking bathtub merged.mp4
  32. 13 points

    771 downloads

    I remember this video being mentioned in an earlier thread and some people wanting to see it, so here you go This is from dollidoll where she's tied up in jeans with a full bladder and her dom presses on her bladder with her high heels till she pees her jeans. (IMO she doesn't give in to the pressure she chooses to let go - although her dom says she's going to keep pressing till she releases so she's not got much of a choice ). This is followed by some spanking in the middle of which her dom tells her to empty the rest of her bladder and she obliges. Nudity Warning - Breasts are shown throughout the video.

    Free

  33. 13 points

    1,222 downloads

    This file originally came from DLJG-382 (I already Uploaded it) and is one of my favorite clips i have ever seen so i wanted to give it it's own little spotlight. Enjoy

    Free

  34. 13 points
    We have finally done it! After more than 10 years since we first launched, we have now made one-thousand unique, high-definition, pants wetting videos. This celebratory 1,000th video features Alisha and Olivia wetting their pants together. In the video they talk about what it means to have made one-thousand videos, and share some interesting pee-related trivia. They then celebrate by “dancing” and intentionally peeing in their pants.
  35. 12 points
    Hi guys. I've been a member here for a long time, but I've never really posted any content. I'm a trans girl and if anyone was interested in seeing me wet myself I was gonna post some vids, but I wanted to gauge how the community felt before I did. Please let me know your feelings! I've inserted a few pictures of myself so you can see what I look like
  36. 12 points
    I just sold my last pair of these panties and they are one of my absolutely favourite pairs. It's really hard to find adorable Disney print panties these days. Anyhow, as an homage to these panties, and to share something sexy with everyone on the forum, here is me in adorable print panties after the end of a photo shoot - can you tell I was a little desperate? If you'd like to order a pair of your, get in touch! https://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties Best, Rachel
  37. 12 points
    It's midnight and the urge to pee wakes me. In fact, that sudden involuntary squeezing just after the first trickle of piss while alseep is what wakes me. The thrill of almost wetting the bed excites me. I need to give in to my urges. I imagine the feeling of pissing while lying here in my bed. My pussy throbs with muscle spasms, holding back my piss, throbs with sexual excitement. I put my hand under the covers. I start rubbing my pussy over my tight grey pajama bottoms. It's hot and damp with anticipation. My fingers find my waistband, my hand slides underneath. The first little dribble of piss has already made my panties damp. My juices join, making a wet patch. My fingers press harder, rub faster. I grind my hips against my hand. I let a few more squirts of piss escape. My panties are wet now. I press my palm hard against my pussy, holding back the piss that is coming closer and closer to flowing. My clit throbs and twitches, my pussy clenches. Two sensations that want a release, tingling for attention. I am so horny. Horny for pissing, horny for cumming. I force a spurt of piss out, soaking my panties, wetting my bed. As my fingers rub and play with my clit, it stops the piss from coming. I do it again; I piss, I rub my clit to stop pissing. Faster, harder. The bed is soaked, my panties are drenched, I'm panting and moaning. I need something inside my pussy. I pull my panties aside. I slip one finger inside, two fingers inside, it's so wet and slick. I put three fingers inside my pussy and find that most sacred spot, the one that makes my back arch, my breath catch, and my body tingle. I press hard. Now the sensations become one and my piss streams out in gushes. My pussy squeezes, tightens, throbs, my fingers reach deep inside my pussy, my palm presses hard against my clit. Pussy juice and piss mingle. The hot wet puddle underneath my bottom feels naughty and sexy. The hissing gurgling sound as I piss my panties, my bed, excites me. The smell of piss and sex intoxicates me. It's so close now. My heart races, my breathing quickens. I'm grinding against my hand, hips jerking, legs twitching. So tight, so wet and pissy. Tighter. Wetter. Oh fuck yes! I'm cumming! In one glorious wet rush I reach the ultimate orgasm, piss rushing out in throbbing pulsing squirts as my pussy, my tummy my back, my whole body tenses up, nearly convulsing. I close my eyes and ride the waves, savoring the whole experience, reveling in it while lying there soaked panties and pajama bottoms, drenched bed. After I come down, I squeeze out a few more trickles of piss and my clit throbs, craving for more.
  38. 12 points
    This was one of my secret fantasies that I have not done until now. I'd always wanted to experience receiving an erotic massage when I need to pee, and whilst listening to a guided meditation, and just lose all of my inhibitions during the massage and wet myself! So I did In this 15 min video I've just uploaded on pornhub, my bf gives me an extended massage while I am nude on the bed, teasing me and turning me on, until I lose my inhibitions and just wet myself through his fingers and hand while I'm being gently teased and caressed! This was sooo relaxing and intimate, I really enjoyed it a lot! Meditation and massages are made so much better if you can just wet yourself during it... heres the link to it below. And some screenshots too happy Friday everyone ❤❤❤ https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5ec7c513ec1a8
  39. 12 points

    Journey to Arnwick

    I actually finished this story. I actually did it. Motivation to write this whole story came and went constantly, but I honestly do believe it's my best work. It's most certainly my longest. I really enjoyed making this whole thing, and I'm very happy to see it finally finished. I'm also happy so many people liked this story, and followed it for so long. Thank you all for sticking with my indefensibly slow speed, and without further ado, I present the grand finale to The Journey to Arnwick... Finale Part III - Bravery “The End has come Armageddon, the Eternal Silence The Fell Legions have risen Guided by our herald, and the Black Prophecy This world will be awash with blood and fire and fear” ------------------ Night came, and with it, the army of the dead. They descended upon the town as they had many times before, a legion of savage monsters, a veritable tide of rotten flesh strewn with intermittent teeth and claws. Bounding through the trees were the nimblest of them. At their forefront, a vanguard of creatures like living walls of meat, prepared to absorb arrows and destroy barricades. Standing atop goliath creatures were two necromancers, converts from Arnwick, to oversee the annihilation of the problematic “heroes” rising within this little village. It was a colossal horde, unlike any they’d seen before. Each face- each vile, undead simulacrum of a face- was a unique nightmare. Together, the visage alone was enough to bring grown men and women to their knees. Arnwick was not too distant a town, many of the villagers knew people there. The Beast had been quite careful to leave just enough of its victims intact to identify. “Oh God, I knew him, I’d recognize that scraggly beard anywhere...” The twisted sights of old friends… “That ratty old coat… Is that? No… ” Loved ones and family “Tiff! What in God’s name did they… Oh, sister, I swear I’ll put you out of your misery.” All misshapen and violated. All actions meant to terrify, to frighten the defenders into surrender, to kill the warrior spirit the heroes had tried so fervently to unearth in them. The heroes- Tabitha, holy warrior and peerless swordswoman; Eliza, brilliant mage and alchemist; Alma, cunning slayer of monsters; and Hazel, a brave and innocent soul- had done all they could for them, and now stood as sentinels, ready to fight and die for them. They’d dressed them as warriors, armed them like warriors… But only the sight of the Beast’s machinations, his horrific mockeries of the living, ignited their souls, and set their hearts ablaze. “Vengeance for Arnwick!!” Someone cried. “For the ones we lost!!” Another called. “Prepare to die, demon!!” The crowd began to chant and call both rallying cries and scathing taunts. Zalacay, an Archdemon, the Beast of Arnwick, Dark Herald and a master of terror, had made a mistake. He’d shown his victims the face of death, he let them know it, understand it. He left them with nothing to fear. Frightened civilians had prepared to face the dead, but it would be warriors who would meet them in battle. ------------------ The flesh walls, riddled with arrows and doused in alchemical fire, collapsed shortly after they broke the initial barricade. One was felled even beforehand, collapsing and impaling itself upon the palisade it was meant to smash. It was all the same to the dead, as they clambered atop its malformed body and joined the battle. At the forefront, the strongest fighters broke the charge of the undead. Tabitha foremost among them, she stood further out than any, expertly cleaving apart any challengers. There were many more of the creatures than she was accustomed to fighting, but she swallowed her fear, and devoted herself to the art of slaying. By her side was the woman who’d stood with her during the last siege. Unbeknownst to Tabitha- not that she would’ve even acknowledged it- The woman had soiled herself quite badly in anticipation of the fight. When the army of the dead was nothing more than howls and roars in the distance, the dreadful anxiety had overwhelmed her, and her bowels had messily voided themselves. Wet filth ran all down the backs of her legs, and sat in a sizable mound in her panties. When the time for fighting came, she jumped into action, skewering ghoul after ghoul with deadly precision, valiantly trying to ignore the brown, fetid ruin of her backside. She slew and slew, but their numbers seemed endless. They sensed her weakness, or perhaps their master did, and they focused their violent fury upon her. The tide of the dead smashed into her. She swung and thrust her blade, but was so beset by the dead that she lost her grip, and her sword was carried away, embedded in the still-moving corpse of an Arnwick denizen. She fell on her back, claws and teeth tearing into her. Her punches and kicks did nothing to push them back. She screamed, in equal parts pain and terror. A muffled voice shouted above her, and the ghoul above her face was suddenly decapitated. Tabitha kicked the body aside like a ragdoll, and set to work killing the others. With her life saved, she began scrambling backwards. She could feel urine leaving her body, soaking into her pants as she did so. She left a trail of wetness on the ground, until another defender came to aid, lifting her up and pulling her to safety. “Fall back!” Tabitha commanded. Their initial defensive line had been completely annihilated, and she could see that many of the protectors had already perished. With the archers covering their retreat, the vanguard pulled back, past a series of wooden stake walls and spiked barricades. -- Along the rooftops, the archers stood. Unlike the last siege, this time they were accompanied by guardians to defend them if the more agile undead assailed their position. “They’re clear! Use the vials, now!!” Matthew called to his companions. Each of the dozen archers, a crossbow-wielding Hazel among them, withdrew a vial of fiery orange-and-blue liquid. Eliza’s instructions had been clear enough- just shake vigorously, remove the cork, and throw. Hazel struggled to uncork hers quickly, and was briefly stunned by the brilliant glare of alchemical fire as the ground that had been ceded to the undead was engulfed in flame. Potentially hundreds of the Beast’s army had been incinerated in the blink of an eye. … And Hazel had still not uncorked hers. She shook off the awe at the sight of the explosions, and readied hers for use. “Hazel, look out!” Alma, who’d volunteered to be her guardian, shouted. She looked up in alarm just in time to see a malformed ghoul leap from a tree towards her, baring its fangs and screeching. Alma interposed herself between them, her good arm wielding a silver dagger. The screeching monster impacted her protector, and though she plunged the weapon into its heart, killing it instantly, the force still threw her back, colliding with Hazel. They both grunted and collapsed, the vial of fire falling with a sharp clink onto the rooftop next to them. “You all right?” Alma asked, shoving the body off of the both of them. “Yes, I’m-” the sizzling and smoking vial beside her stole her attention, “Alma! Alma!!” She pushed her friend up, and they both rushed to get away from it. Looking over the side of the roof, they saw only the eager maws of the dead. While Hazel tried to think where they could go that would be safe, she was tackled. She panicked briefly before realizing that it was Alma on top of her. The monster hunter was shielding her with her own body. She would have protested, but the vial detonated in a fantastic eruption of fire and force. It rattled and shook her bones, and the heat scathed her skin. She whimpered and curled in on herself. She hated that Alma was putting herself in such danger on her behalf, but the primal fear in her at that moment wanted nothing more than to curl up and have the stronger woman protect her. As she lay on her side, curled into the fetal position, her bladder let loose. Hot piss flooded her groin, staining her left thigh. The wetness spread across the front and back of her leg, and pooled underneath her, soaking into the bottom of her shirt, as well. Alma, poised over her, had noticed the wet sensation when it reached her own knees, and pitied her friend. “Hazy… ” Alma began, but found her voice choked and strained, “You hurt?” Hazel’s ears heard only ringing, and she looked upwards at her friend, wild fear still in her eyes. Alma coughed when she tried to speak more, accidentally spitting a splash of blood onto Hazel’s shoulder. She’d taken the brunt of the explosion, and her innards hadn’t appreciated it. After another short coughing fit, her voice finally broke through, “Don’t worry, Hazy We’re-” The sound of splitting wood interrupted her, and she looked at the roof they sat upon. The fire bottle had vaporized a large percentage of the building, and much of the rest of it had been set ablaze in impossibly hot fire. Now what remained of the roof threatened to give way under their combined weight. “Shit,” Was all Alma had time to say before the wood gave way, and the two women tumbled down, Hazel screaming as they fell. Alma wrapped her good arm around her, and tried to cushion the fall. When they impacted the hard ground, littered with splintered wood, shattered glass and flaming debris, Alma gasped in agony. “Ahh, fuck!” She writhed in pain. Hazel finally came to her senses, shaking off the last of the shock from the explosion. She stood, and crouched beside the injured huntress. “No, no, no! Alma, where are you hurt? Is-is anything broken?” “Landed on my back, bad arm hit the ground, too,” She answered through gritted teeth. She was pretty sure her back had been perforated by glass shrapnel from the bomb, and then by splinters, too. “Don’t worry, I’ll… ” She looked to the ruin of the home’s front door. It was a veritable wall of flame, and beyond it was a sea of the dead. “I’ll… ” She didn’t know what to do. “Hazy… crates in the corner,” Alma wheezed out, “drag me behind them, we’ll hide until we can move.” “Uh, right! Good idea,” She lifted Alma under her arms, and did her best to ignore her friend’s groans of pain. She propped Alma against the wall, letting her sit and rest for a moment. Hiding behind the crates, the sound of the dead finally reached them. It was horrific, wet gurgling growls and rabid snarling. A sound so vile and overpowering, Hazel wondered if she would ever hear anything else again. She clutched the crossbow in shaking hands. For the first time, she noticed her wet pants. Her crotch was soaked, and her left thigh, front and back, was saturated. Alma cursed her injury, and the fact that Hazel was in so much danger because of it. None of her wounds stung as badly as the agony of not being able to protect her. She clutched her silver dagger, and silently prayed that nothing would find them. The shock and fear of the fight had also awoken a familiar need in her abdomen. She groaned, feeling the need to empty her bowels present itself. The fight was very, very far from over, and she knew there was no way she would leave it with clean underwear. It was better to end the discomfort of it immediately, as she’d long ago grown accustomed to fighting whilst needing to change her panties. Indeed, her panties were already wet, as she’d been leaking for the last several minutes. With just a light push, her release made contact with the cloth of her underwear. That simple movement put her well past the point of no return, and the rest of her mess began to meet her panties. “Hazy… sorry… ” She muttered without explanation. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” She quickly replied, clearly not grasping just what Alma was referring to. As the monster hunter’s load filled the seat of her panties with soft mush, both a muddy, crackling sound and a foul smell filled the air. “O-oh,” Hazy blushed and averted her eyes. “W-well, hey, I need to change, too,” She gripped the large piss stain on the front of her trousers. The two of them quietly chuckled, as Alma continued relieving herself in her pants. -- Eliza had been given the rather inglorious task of guarding the safehouse. Many of the residents of the town were simply not physically fit to serve as soldiers. The young and old, and those that either couldn’t be sufficiently armed or weren’t fit to wield arms waited inside. Eliza found herself staring longingly out the window, at the horde of undead, and wished she was there, being torn limb from limb, rather than stuck in the cursed safehouse with all the panicking, crying fools. The large room, formerly a town hall, now a hastily fortified shelter, stunk terribly. With even a cursory scan of the room, it was perfectly evident why. Eliza looked to a young woman, maybe a couple years younger than herself. The girl’s gray trousers were drenched in her own urine, from the top to the bottom. She stood bowlegged, and refused to sit down, despite the free chair near her, indicating she’d shat herself, too. Not too far from her, a somewhat older woman sat against the wall, holding her legs close. A brown discoloration and a telling bulge were present on her rear. When a foul smell had first struck her, she was the first soiled person she had spotted; Eliza had initially given the woman credit for not wetting herself as well, though as she looked at the rapidly growing puddle underneath her, she had to retract that praise. A younger man, the one Hazel had stopped from attacking the bartender was a victim to fear as well. As he looked out the window, his bladder gave way. He slowly shifted his gaze to the rapidly growing stains racing down his legs, and spilling out around his feet. Indeed, nearly half the people in the shelter stood either in or near a pool of piss, and just as many walked with a wide stride so as not to upset the loads in their pants. Perhaps Eliza just felt galvanized after the success of their prior ritual, for all she could think was, What children! They haven’t even breached the doors, yet. For my sake, soil yourselves after I’ve died, so I don’t have to smell it! A creak of wood above them silenced all within the shelter. Another creak, then another, and another. Footsteps. One of the leaping ghouls had made it to the shelter. Eliza’s heart began to race, for she knew the implications of that. Alma and Tabitha had positioned the archers in key locations to protect the shelter, and offer suppressive volleys into the dead. If they’d reached the shelter, then all of the archer nests had been overrun. Without them, they could be flanked and surrounded, and had no vision on the horde. That alone may have meant that the battle was already decided, and Zalacay had won. “We’re gonna die!” A woman behind Eliza shrieked, the sudden burst of noise nearly making the witch jump out of her skin. She turned to see the culprit, and saw a crying woman on her knees, a spreading stain on the front of her blue skirt, and a steaming puddle around her knees. “Quiet!!” She whispered through gritted teeth, but it was too late. An animal-like hissing broke the silence, and the footsteps grew more and more numerous. Guttural snarling from the one who’d found them seemed to draw more, and before long, it sounded as though there must’ve been a hundred monsters swarming the building. With a loud grunt, one of the ghouls began banging on the rooftop. Following suit, the others began slamming into the wood with all their might. It rained dust and splinters onto the survivors. Near where the original ghoul had begun assaulting the structure, a rotted hand burst through, broken and sliced by the old wood, but it broke through nonetheless. Now would be an appropriate time to lose control of your bowels, she thought. There was numbness in her legs, and she quickly reached back to feel her own rear, and verify that she had not yet taken her own advice. “Uh, e-everyone! Get to the basement, now!!” She called out, though the people were too stunned to move. She drew the sword they’d given her, and it made a harsh rasp as it scraped its scabbard; the sound caught the attention of the citizens. “Basement! Now!!” She barked once again, though this time with results. The door to the basement was thrown open, and the crowd of frightened, soiled people ran inside. Eliza watched the ghoul as it continued to smash apart the wood with no regard for the fidelity of its own body. Blood and chunks of maimed flesh fell through the burgeoning hole just as much as shattered wood did. Once the people were all through the door, Eliza moved to follow after them, so she could defend the narrow stairwell. Just as she reached it, seconds before she would’ve closed the door, she heard sniffling behind her. Looking for the source, she spotted another girl, about her own age, hiding under a table. She was on her hands and knees, Eliza could immediately see the stains between her legs. “Come on!” Eliza shouted, “Come on!!” when she did not budge. The girl was shaking like a leaf, and it dawned on Eliza that she was completely paralyzed in fear. Sheathing her sword, the witch ran over to her. Having lost her patience, she pushed the table over, revealing the girl’s hiding place. She squealed, and Eliza grabbed her arm and forced her up. As forcefully as the little witch’s physique would allow, she pulled the frightened girl to the door, and shoved her inside. The ghouls had just widened the gap enough that they could pass through, evidenced by the spent carcass of one of them falling to the ground with a meaty splat. As she hurried the girl inside, she grimaced when one of her pushing hands contacted the girl’s rear end, squishing the mess which had been present there. A couple other survivors dragged her inside, and more still hoisted barrels and furniture up the stairs, preparing to barricade the door. Hardly anybody inside could fight, and most of the ones that could had no weapon. Some had ripped the legs off of chairs, or grabbed any sharp silverware. The ghouls charged the door, banging on it, slamming against it. Before long, they would break through the meager fortifications, and Eliza was confident she would only be able to kill one or two of them before they overwhelmed her, too. If the others did not prevail soon, no one in the shelter had any hope. -- The defenders that hadn’t fallen in combat were being driven back. The dead gathered around the town, encircled it, surrounded and swarmed them. They were impossibly numerous, and Tabitha realized all too late that this meant Arnwick was not the only town or city to be consumed. The Beast was fast, unbelievably fast, and had built such a colossal force in such little time. In the furthest recesses of her mind, she understood what this meant: their fight was hopeless. Even if they had twice as many soldiers, the dead would still outnumber them to an incalculable degree. That the Beast waited so long, kept Arnwick alive when it had such an army… it wanted something. But Tabitha was trained as a witch hunter, trained to withstand their manipulations and mind-altering spells. She filtered these thoughts from her mind, she focused solely on the battle in front of her. The townspeople she’d defended already knew Tabitha was a peerless warrior, but those still alive, who could see how she stood in defiance of the Beast’s army, could not believe what they witnessed. Tabitha, gore-splattered, stood in the center of a bloodbath. Hundreds of ghouls lay at her feet, eviscerated, decapitated, maimed and destroyed. Each one singed and immolated by the magical properties of her sword. As she whirled about in a flurry of strikes, sparks and billows of flame flying from her sword, each motion felling an opponent, it seemed even the walking corpses were terrified of her. The army of the dead advanced around her, careful not to stray too close. Indeed, she suspected that the ones engaging her were not doing so in an attempt to kill her, but rather just to keep her occupied so the others could pass. She’d barely even noticed, but the enemy’s numbers were waning sharply. They had initially seemed so overwhelmingly huge that she felt it impossible to defeat them. Now, though… She hated the little witch, but credit was due: her plan had worked stupendously. Their organization, their weapons, their special equipment, the timing of it all- the Beast had marched his army into a slaughter. Not that it would be an easy victory- not that victory was even assured. The town was in absolute ruins. Tabitha had been so inundated with monsters to slay that she’d completely neglected to take stock of their defenses, but she had no doubt many, likely most of their defenders had fallen. She paid it no mind, though. All that mattered was the death of the archdemon. Even if every single of them perished here, his death would forbid the calamity from spreading any further. “Are you truly so desperate to find me, child?” The voice froze her breath and her muscles. Sanguine and cold, dripping with depraved delight. She’d been stopped mid-swing, her blade only inches from the neck of a ghoul. But… the ghoul had stopped, as well. In fact, they no longer pressed the attack against her. They surrounded her, and just watched. With a savage grunt, she completed the swing, felling the ghoul. The sounds of slavering fiends and clamoring fighters behind her did not abate, the fight raged on. “Show yourself, abomination!” Tabitha called into the night, voice shaking and ragged. Something in her mind, a sensation, gave her a silent answer. She did not know how she knew, but she knew suddenly what she would see when she turned around. Abject terror flooded into her. She had known that the demon would make an appearance, but even so, now the time was nigh, and her body had been frozen in fear. Wetness cascaded down her legs, drenching her pants. Noisily, a puddle formed in the crimson dirt below her. “Turn around,” The Beast commanded. Tabitha found herself unable to refuse. She slowly came to face him, gazing upon the unholy gargantuan. As she’d observed before, he was like the dreadful union of man and vulture. Easily twelve feet in height, composed of spindly limbs with taloned fingers. An avian head with a cruel beak. Massive wings that moved to encircle the both of them. Her heart didn’t stop, though she wondered if that was a blessing or a curse. The witch’s charm worked. Her sword clattered in her hand, and a new warmth settled into her panties. The mass there grew and grew, until she’d filled her trousers substantially. “So difficult to resist your fear, isn’t it?” She could sense the monster’s jubilation. Beyond being humiliating, her wetting and soiling herself indicated that she was terrified. To a demon, that meant she was malleable. “Give in.” The edges of her vision darkened, her thoughts became clouded. The sounds of fighting had grown dim and distant. “Come with me, little child. Fulfill your purpose, and I promise that you’ll be free from fear.” She tried to answer, to reject him, but was too numb. She only babbled half words and sounds. The Beast reached out with a huge, clawed hand. In a surprisingly gentle motion, he clasped her hand. “Be the first. Our champion. Our guiding light. The Black Prophecy await- AAAAGGHHH!!” The Beast howled in fury and pain, and Tabitha gritted her teeth, twisting the holy blade she’d driven into him. With a swipe, he knocked the sword from her hand, and it clattered to the ground below. A demonic force gripped her, and held her in the air. Perhaps intentionally, the wetness of her pants and the mass in her panties were pushed and held against her, as if to remind her of her fear. The wound, a jagged gash in the monster’s chest, mended itself before her very eyes. “Worry not, little one: I forgive you.” He leaned in closer, his rotted face only an inch from her nose, “Perhaps I am being too hasty. The choice was made on your behalf, some time ago. You do not yet know that you are willing. You will learn.” The force holding her aloft dissipated, and she descended into the waiting arms of several ghouls. “To Arnwick, we have one final act of service to complete.” Obediently, the ghouls followed after their master, vanishing into the night. -- Unbeknownst to Tabitha or the Beast, Hazel and Alma had been watching and listening. The swarm of undead around them had abated enough to allow them to begin their escape. Though they’d only made it as far as the window before Alma shoved them both to the ground. She’d witnessed the arrival of Zalacay. While they huddled together and eavesdropped, Alma, ever courageous, rose to a crouch and peered out the shattered window. The monster hunter gasped sharply, and ducked back down, on her knees. Her eyes were shut, and Hazel immediately recognized the familiar sound of piss flowing into pants. Sure enough, Alma’s brown pants, already host to a bulging mound in the rear, darkened as sheaths of urine coursed down her thighs. The puddle grew between her legs, and a strong stream of her piss flowed through the fabric at her crotch, loudly adding to the pool. Hazel blushed for her friend’s sake, and shimmied away slightly when the puddle nearly reached her. “They took her,” Alma spoke after taking a moment to collect herself. “I heard,” Hazel answered, “Arnwick… looks like we’ll be making it there after all, huh?” Hazel joked, but she could not hide the shaking of her voice, the tears and sobs within her. “We need Eliza. We weren’t planning on the Beast doing this.” The two of them hesitantly stood, both being so familiar with the sensation of pissed pants that both of them had largely forgotten about their “matching” trousers. With Tabitha’s abduction, their greatest bulwark was gone. The last of the survivors had withdrawn to the town hall. The dead swarmed its walls and roof like flies. But if they were so intent on besieging the building, then it meant Eliza had successfully been defending it. She was alive. “Grab the crossbow, Hazy, this may be our last chance.” Hazel took a deep breath, and readied the crossbow. She knew they were walking out to face a veritable army, but somehow, she wasn’t afraid. Alma clutched her silver dagger, and took a position close to her. They stepped back out into the night. By then, almost all of the dead had gathered around the safehouse, and were ripping the building apart. It was impossible to miss, so Hazel simply fired indiscriminately into the horde gathered outside the doors. Each bolt struck and vanquished a ghoul, though they both knew she didn’t have the ammo to do all that much to the horde. The sound of mad gibbering filled their ears, and soon a hasty scampering joined it. They spun, and Alma jumped into action just in time to slay a crawler before it reached them. But then there was more, another came rushing in. “Shit, shit, shit!” Alma muttered, sprinting back over, “Keep shooting, Hazy! I’ll protect you!” She did as she was told. The ghouls had begun to notice the two, and several members of the horde broke off, and charged towards them. The brush around them shook and rattled with stalking fiends. Alma fought them back as much as possible, but they would soon be overwhelmed. A ghoul appeared suddenly, in front of Hazel’s face, it’s ruinous maw open for a bite. She screamed, and tried to heft the large crossbow in time, only for an arrow to pierce the monster’s skull. “I’m here, you two, don’t worry!” Came a man’s voice- Matthew. “Let’s finish this!” Someone else, a woman, shouted. She glanced over, and witnessed Alma being aided by the woman who’d stood beside Tabitha. With their numbers doubled, the dead were suddenly being held at bay. Hazel and Matthew continued to deplete the horde’s numbers, but Hazel knew it would not last. They had not nearly enough bolts and arrows to succeed. She glanced around in desperation, and her eyes settled on something. A fallen archer, and something glittering on his belt… A glowing orange vial. -- Eliza and the survivors she was protecting had done everything in their power to seal the passage into the basement, but it would not hold for long. The bravest and strongest among them had grabbed anything that could be swung as a weapon, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, ready to receive their oncoming guests. Although, calling her comrades such a thing was rather generous, since they were the “bravest and strongest” of the most cowardly and frail people left in town. Eliza looked to her right, and there stood a woman somewhat taller than herself. She clutched a small dagger in one hand, and wore quite a fierce scowl. She was shaking, though- nearly trembling. Her pants darkened suddenly between her legs as her bladder relaxed. A wet spot, only slightly larger than a coin appeared. It grew, doubling in size. Then it grew again, and again. Well, credit where credit is due: she’s at least trying to hold her water. As the sounds of slavering ghouls grew louder and closer, the woman’s trousers grew wetter. In a matter of seconds, the urine stains had nearly reached her shoes. To her left was a young man, practically still a boy. He was only barely taller than Eliza, with her diminutive stature. She recalled hearing about him during the creation of the battle plan. The poor boy seemed to have quite an intense fear of the things the Beast created. He was known to be paralyzed with fear during each attack, hence why he stayed in the safehouse. Yet, here he was, prepared to fight and probably die. He wasn’t completely cornered- not yet, at least- there were still people for him to hide behind. There must be someone in here he wants to protect, no matter the danger to himself. At least he’s found some courage. Her thoughts were silenced when she noticed the brown foulness seeping into the rear of his pants. There was only a faint bulge, but the brown stains began to flow down the backs of his legs. He, too, was shaking. Rabid snarling outside the door signalled that the time had come. Wood splintered, and reanimated bodies smashed against the barricade. They’d done all they could to reinforce the door, but it wasn’t much. Another slam, and the wall of debris shuddered. Somewhere behind her, Eliza heard the disgusting sounds of someone soiling themself. Another slam, and the barricade shifted, beginning to lurch. Eliza stood with her sword drawn, trying to take careful, measured breaths. The pit of fear in her stomach and tingling numbness in her limbs had been there for some time, but she noted that they had been joined by a curious deflating sensation. Another slam, and the defence began to crumble. “Please!! Please don’t kill us!” Someone screamed, before devolving into a fit of crying and sobbing. Be silent, you frightened children!! A thought occurred to her, and she looked down at her own legs; she believed that she’d just figured out what that strange sensation was. As predicted, a puddle surrounded her boots, just finishing up its expansion as the last of her pee struck the ground. The front of her dress was wet, and cold droplets fell from the hem like rain. She didn’t even know that she’d been wetting herself- her focus had been stolen by other matters. Having realized her accident, she was able to detect the sensation of soaked panties, and the piss coating her thighs and filling up her boots. Her hand clutching the sword shook, and she almost couldn’t even lift the weapon. A sad, bitter smile crossed her lips, Yup. Frightened children, the lot of us… The barricade was destroyed by the onslaught, and the first of the ghouls rampaged through. Eliza swallowed hard, grit her teeth, and raised the sword. Perhaps viewing the witch as the runt of the litter, it made for her. It launched forward in a brutal charge, impaling itself on the sword, but not dying. It swung wildly, its claws raking across Eliza’s face. Her right cheek was rent open, and she screeched in pain. The monster’s unholy strength far eclipsed her own, and she was overwhelmed immediately. They fell to the ground, and Eliza covered her head with her arms as the ghoul unleashed its rage upon her. “Eliza! Help her!” Someone cried out, and after a few painful seconds, the beating ended. A number of the people who’d been hiding in the back had come to her rescue, pulling the ghoul off of her and bludgeoning it with a length of wood. The others had managed to just barely hold out against the horde, and it appeared no one had any life-threatening injuries. The ghouls continued to pour through the gap they’d created, until one of them began his foray through the destroyed barricade, only for something on the other side to pull him back. There was a yelp, and then silence, as the last of the ghouls was slain. Eliza could hardly believe it when she saw a human face peering down at them- Hazel’s. -- Hazel took a young woman’s hand, and helped her through the decimated barrier. She was the last person to leave the basement, and, upon seeing that she’d thoroughly ruined the front and back of her skirt, Hazel could say with some confidence that a majority of the survivors had had at least one type of accident in their pants- herself among them. She ran her hand over the lopsided stain that almost exclusively covered only one leg. It had nearly dried, but the stain was still unmistakeable. Around her, people were tending to injuries both grievous and minute. Many sought or provided comfort. Many could only sit in silent horror at the devastation surrounding them. In all the war stories, everyone always celebrates and cheers when the battle is won… But there was no celebration here. They had not won. They had survived. Granted, even that was a feat of almost miraculous significance. Hazel gaped at the wall of the safehouse that had been incinerated by the firebomb she’d thrown. It was pure luck that the archer hadn’t been able to use the bomb before meeting his fate. “Well… It worked, Eliza.” Alma clutched the charm pendants the witch had made for them. Indeed, she’d stared directly at Zalacay, and not died. “Excellent,” Eliza winced, speaking clearly not being pleasant with her new scars. “All that’s left is to strike Zalacay where he’s weak.” “What about Tabitha? Why did he take her?” Hazel chimed in. “I… I have no idea, I’m afraid. He must need her for something.” “We have to help her!” Hazel spoke with determination. “We will,” Alma replied. “Indeed… ” Eliza seemed to be rapidly progressing through a train of thought, “Taking her may have been a grave mistake. He didn’t ensure that we perished here. Without him, his forces were defeated, and now he has only a small contingent left at his side. I’d planned to confront him with an exorcism during this fight, but I never got the chance.” “But now we have a perfect opportunity,” Hazel felt a newfound strength well within her, and lifted the crossbow in a display of determination. “All right, my friends… Let’s finish this, and save Tabitha.” “Agreed,” Eliza tacitly replied, though she smiled back. “Hear, hear!” Alma cheered. The three of them turned, and began their trek towards Arnwick- to the end of their roads. As they reached the edge of town, Hazel’s foot struck something. She looked down, and spotted Tabitha’s holy sword, discarded on the ground. -- “Arnwick,” proclaimed the letters wrought in an elegant iron script, forming an arch. It must have once looked lovely, but now was profaned with gore and viscera that hung like banners. The buildings in the small city were mostly rubble, but they were quite similar to the arch: soaked in blood and decorated with banners of organs and fleshy effigies. The stench of the place was unbearable, to the degree that Hazel could only figure that it was completely unnatural, as if the air were poisoned. Growths like veins broke through the cobblestone path, running towards some central point deeper inside. “Uh, eeuugh… ” Hazel’s stomach turned, and she recoiled at the brutal assault on her senses. “Be strong, Hazy, just a little more,” Alma’s voice was strong, determined. Hazel had never completed her move to Arnwick, but there was a strange melancholy that came with seeing it in such ruin. Naturally, the tragic calamity that had taken place there tugged at her heartstrings, but it was something different that troubled her. She could picture the place before the end, and the kind of life she could’ve had there. It was the lost possibility, the happy lives that never were that weighed on her mind. The Beast would pay for this atrocity. The walk through Arnwick was startlingly, unnervingly peaceful. Not a single ghoul attacked them. Near as they could tell, they were not even being watched. She did not like it; she would’ve preferred if they’d been swarmed by monsters the instant they arrived. The vein led them to a disturbing sight. The veins formed a large, circular basin in the town square. The basin was filled to the top with blood, in which swirled a murky black substance. Many ghouls sat in a circle around the ritual basin, kneeling in some sort of reverence. On the other side stood Tabitha, stripped down to her heavily soiled underwear. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, unthinking and unmoving. And behind her… Behind her hovered the giant, corvid form of an Archdemon. “At last… ” He began in his slow voice, “I’ve gotten to know each of you quite well, by now. Shall we speak, or shall the feeding hour come early?” Hazel’s body locked up. As described, Zalacay radiated some kind of power, one that instilled mortals with incomprehensible fear. Urine spilled out into her already wet panties, refreshing the stains on her legs. What little hadn’t escaped her bladder earlier certainly did, then. Beside her, Alma would have relieved herself into her clothes, but she’d already emptied herself completely during the battle. Eliza’s body, on the other hand, had more to give. Her panties tented, then tented further and sagged under the weight of a completely solid mess. The back of her dress was pushed back, and she had to grip her underwear to prevent them from falling down her legs. Once the hard log broke off, the rest of her mess was softer, and piled up around it. In only a short few seconds, the mess in her panties had gone from a sideways tower to a mound. The witch had never made such a mess of herself in her entire life. “You’ve come to know such terror, opposing the inevitable in such a way,” the Archdemon continued, “Such pain and loss. All I ask is your loyalty, and you will have you desire- you will be free of pain and failure and fear. You will be safe. You have my word.” “Your words mean nothing, fiend!” Alma shouted. “Tabitha! Get away from him! We’ll protect you!” Hazel called to their addled friend, but she did not seem to hear them. “You will not see reason? Such a pity. Children, you may feast.” With a dismissive wave of his hand, the remaining ghouls jumped to their feet, and sprinted forward with a ferocity they had not seen before. But they were ready. It was not Hazel, but Eliza who hefted the crossbow, and loosed a bolt into a charging undead. Alma sprinted, and cut down the ghouls that sought to kill Eliza. Hazel drew a weapon that was new to her, but filled her with a divine purpose. Wielding Tabitha’s lost sword, she struck down the nearest ghoul, marvelling at the way the blade passed through its body, cutting perfectly, and leaving a streak of flame in the air. Even hurt and exhausted as they were, Zalacay’s ghouls proved no match for them. “Ha ha! I would’ve been utterly disappointed if you fell so easily. Tabitha, begin. I will see to our uninvited guests.” The witch hunter mutely strode forward, into the unholy pool of blood. Little embers rose from the basin, filling the air with a dark energy. Spreading his rotted wings to their full length, Zalacay took flight, then descended in the blink of an eye, smashing into the ground between Tabitha and her friends. “I hope your plan was more sophisticated than it seems to be… ” “I think… ” Eliza spoke, fighting through the terror, “You’ll agree that it was… Zalacay.” The Archdemon recoiled, both in shock and pain. He made a confused noise, but Eliza gave him no reprieve. She produced her grimoire, and began to read from it. It was an arcane incantation that Hazel did not understand in the slightest, but even she could tell that it was distinct from the harsh, demonic tongue she’d seen before. It was softer, yet filled with conviction. Whatever it was, Hazel was willing to bet that it was a holy chant. An exorcism. Zalacay stumbled backwards, little cracks formed in his mottled flesh, and a brilliant light shone through. He was stunned and weakened, Hazel could feel his deathly aura lifting, her senses returned. But behind him, Tabitha had reached the center of the pool. She lifted a knife, and poised it to stab into her own heart. “Tabitha, no!! Just wait a little longer!” Hazel screamed. She didn’t know if it was her words, or Tabitha’s own iron will, but the edge of the dagger stopped just before it could break skin. Seizing the opportunity, Alma rushed into the pool, and tackled the woman with all her might. They both crashed down into the crimson liquid. “No, No! You will not impede my glorious work! The Blakc Prophecy has come at last!” Zalacay screeched. Even through the holy force of an exorcism empowered by his true name, he lunged for Eliza. His large, taloned hand swiped, and the shock stopped the witch’s chanting. She backstepped, and her life was saved by it, as the talons shredded the book from which she read, but missed her. In his other hand, a black and green ball of fire formed, and he reared back to throw it. Holy sword in hand, Hazel came to her friend’s defense, and severed the arm holding the flame. Unlike the ghouls, the blade did not carve through Zalacay easily, and the effort it took to push the blade forward was enormous, but it was not wasted. The arm fell harmlessly to the ground, eliciting an agonized scream from the Archdemon. But he was not dead, and Hazel knew that he would need to land only a single hit to kill either of them. Do what Alma would do… In the pool, Alma wrestled with Tabitha, fighting to take the knife from her. It pained her to admit, but Tabitha would be a better fighter even if Alma’s arm weren’t broken. They rolled and battled in the pool, Tabitha constantly pulling just ahead. She couldn’t win, but she did recall what Eliza had told them: that Zalacay’s control over the witch hunter created a mutual bridge, one that could be the Beast’s downfall. She got off her, allowing both of them to stand, so Tabitha could hear her. “Listen to me, Tabitha! We’ve come to save you! That monster is all that’s left, now!” The witch hunter’s arm slackened just a bit, and she once again refrained from plunging the dagger into her own heart. “The townspeople survived, Tabitha! They’re alive! We won, we beat his horde!” “W-won?” Tabitha muttered in a pitifully weak voice. “We journeyed to a dark place, learned that thing’s true name, and Eliza is binding him right now! He’ll be exorcised in mere moments, and we’ll be free! Please, Tabitha, come to your senses!” The hand that gripped the knife relaxed some, then more and more, until the blade fell and splashed in the sanguine pool below them. She laughed meekly, and took a stumbling step towards Alma. Another step, and she fell forward, before being caught by Alma’s good arm. “Heh, knew you’d finish this… ” As the witch hunter seemed to fall into unconsciousness, another unseen blow smote the Archdemon. His aura grew dimmer and dimmer, until it was only a whisper. “Mortal infidels… This day was prophesied a thousand lifetimes ago… You will not stop it.” “You lost, demon,” Hazel had never felt so galvanized, so powerful. She ran, and jumped into the air. She collided with Zalacay’s disintegrating form, and drove the holy sword into his chest. He made a sound, like he was gasping. He shuddered, and the lights breaking through his skin grew blindingly bright. Hazel shielded her eyes, but felt some unknown force throw her into the air. She struck something when she landed, and the whiteness that filled her vision went black. -- “Hazy. Hazy! Are you hurt?” A concerned voice asked. She opened her eyes as if she were finally waking from a long and terrible nightmare. Both Alma and Eliza stood over her, and she wasn’t sure which of them had just spoken. It honestly could’ve been either of them. “Is it… Is it over?” She almost didn’t dare ask. “He’s dead. We did it, Hazy.” Eliza answered in a choked voice. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a wide smile crossed her lips. It was the happiest Hazel had ever seen the witch be. “Tabitha?” “She woke up a moment ago,” Alma motioned to a spot nearby, “She’s confused, and feels unwell, but she’s alive and kicking.” Hazel joined Eliza in crying more than a few tears of joy. She still felt a little delusional from all that had happened, and more or less uttered the first thing to come to her mind, “Can you imagine… If I’d just chosen to move somewhere else… ” They laughed, and helped her up. She very nearly fell right back down the instant she was on her feet. Her friends kept her stable, and she finally saw Tabitha. The proud woman must’ve been unhappy that Zalacay’s ritual had put her in such a state of undress. Tabitha seemed the sort to not want her underwear seen even when that underwear wasn’t filled with her own waste. A ragged bedsheet was draped over shoulders, giving her at least some measure of decency. She fixed Hazel with a disbelieving stare, “Hazel… What you did is… Well, it’s unbelievable. That thing was going to use me to usher forth the greatest legion of demons this world would ever see. His ritual needed a holy warrior’s heart to be complete. It makes me sick to think of how long he’d been using me.” “I’m just glad that you’re okay, Tabitha. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you everythi- Oh!” Hazel began to pat her sides, searching for Tabitha’s sword. “I need to give you back your… ” Tabitha slowly shifted her head, looking upon the ashen, lifeless body of Zalacay. The sword jutted from his chest like a flag triumphantly planted on enemy ground. She walked forward, and ripped the weapon from the body. Walking back, she held it out to Hazel. “Take it. Keep it. You’ve more than earned it, my friend.” “What? I couldn’t possibly- what about you? Don’t you need it?” “I can use any sword, Hazel. I can kill witches with any old weapon. I can’t kill an Archdemon, though. This is my gift to you, as your friend; and something I bestow upon you, as a paladin offering you the greatest honor I can give.” Hesitantly, she reached out, and took the blade. “I… Thank you, Tabitha.” She nodded in reply, then turned to Eliza, “I won’t apologize for my treatment of you, Eliza. I will always regard your lot with due suspicion. But… if ever there was a witch that was good, you’re her. You saved us all, and for that, I thank you.” “Ah, um, of course,” Eliza had clearly been caught off guard. “And lastly, Alma,” “Yes?” “I’d be honored if you’d join me. My order must hear of this at once, and they will likely begin a colossal demon hunt. Your skill would be most welcome.” “Ah. I’m sorry, Tabitha, but… ” She glanced at the others, “I’ve made a few promises I have to keep.” “That is unfortunate, but I understand. All of you have done more than could ever have been expected of you. I have to leave now, but if you ever need me, seek me out in the witch hunters, I will come to your aid with a second thought. Farewell, my friends.” They said their goodbyes, and parted ways. After a few more minutes, Hazel had finally regained enough strength to walk, and the trio chose a path leading out of Arnwick, and set out. They didn’t know where the path would lead, but they wanted very badly to leave Arnwick and its horrors behind them. -- The sun broke through the gray blanket of clouds that had refused to leave since the beginning of their journey. So far, their walk through the forest had been entirely peaceful, not a monster in sight. They’d talked a little, but all of them were much too tired to hold any real dialogue. Something strange happened as they walked, though. Hazel’s panties seemed to shift, and a dreadful and familiar sensation caressed her butt. She reached a hand back, and felt the burgeoning mess there. She was presently soiling herself, with absolutely no provocation. A soft load absolutely filled her underwear, forming an easily visible bulge in her trousers. “Um, oh my… ” “Something the matter?” Alma asked with concern. “Ah, I’ve, um, I’ve soiled myself,” She said in shock. “Oh. Did you only just notice?” Eliza asked, “I did it, too; the second I saw him, I… Well, you know.” “You probably did it when you jumped at the Beast like that. I certainly would have,” Alma added. “No, I… Yeah, I suppose you two are probably right. Must’ve done it then.” She laughed a little, but she could feel herself still going in her panties. She elected to save a little face, since it made her seem less childish to have crapped herself while fighting an Archdemon. She didn’t understand why she just emptied her bowels, though. Perhaps she’d needed to relieve herself, but the numbness from that burst of light made her not notice until it was too late? At any rate, she most certainly was not alone. Both her friends walking by her side carried similar loads in their pants. Poor Eliza still needed to grip her underwear to prevent them from falling. They would need to find a river or somewhere to wash themselves off before they stopped by any town. Epilogue - Two years later Hazel awoke, and sat upright in her bed. She stretched and yawned, then carefully rose from the bed, being as cautious as possible to not disturb Alma beside her. Looking out the window, it wasn’t quite light out, yet. That meant she had some time before the others awoke. Stepping outside the room, the young merchant quietly lifted up her nightgown, and inspected her diaper. Wet, as usual. She grimaced, and made for her study, where her extras were kept. Placing her hand on the door, a voice behind her startled her so much she had to cover her mouth to keep from making a noise that would wake Alma, “Oh, good morning, Hazy.” The surprise caused Hazel’s weakened bowels to void, soiling her diaper. The sound was loud and obvious, and her nightgown spared her the shame of having Eliza see her diaper brown and bulging, but she could still feel the mess filling the garment. “Eliza!” She hissed in an angry whisper, “Please be more careful not to sneak up on me! Why are you even awake this early?” The witch was never awake this early. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, Hazy! I was just finishing some research, and needed to use the lavatory.” Since the battle with Zalacay, they’d learned that the energy that had buffeted Hazel had done more than a few strange things to her. Her skin was a little paler; her eyes had turned a blue-green color; she had a tendency to sleep for abnormally long periods of time, reaching upwards of an entire day asleep. And finally, it had rendered her almost totally incontinent. An unfortunate price to pay for her heroics, but it was something she’d been learning to live with. “Wait, ‘finishing’ some research? Eliza, have you been awake all night?” “Oh, yes. I think I’m getting close to understanding all the changes that happened to you.” Eliza had been dedicatedly trying to undo these mutations since they were discovered, and Hazel was deeply appreciative of it. “And, er, speaking of changes… ” the witch covered her nose, sending a fairly unambiguous message. And just like that, my appreciation is gone. “Yes. Of course,” She muttered through gritted teeth. She entered the lavatory, and began the laborious process of cleaning and changing herself. The slow, arduous process. The painfully snail-paced task. The activity which she normally could complete in a few short minutes, but this time seemed to take ages. “Um, Hazel, will you be done, soon? I need to use the restroom as well.” “Afraid not. A certain someone caused me to make quite a mess.” Several more minutes passed, and the sounds of Eliza shuffling and shifting were music to her ears. Before long, there was a gasp, and then a sound of liquid splattering on the floor. She opened the door, completely changed and clean, and took in the sight of Eliza bent over, wetness running down her nightgown, and growing puddle around her feet. “You’re more evil than Zalacay… ” She murmured. Hazel smiled while Eliza set out to clean herself up, as well. As sweet as revenge was, Hazel had work to do. Two years ago to the day, they’d vanquished Zalacay and his minions, and saved the land. Hazel intended to ensure they enjoyed a lavish ceremony to commemorate the events that had brought the three of them together. After the battle, Tabitha had found them, and she and her order presented them with a colossal sum of gold for their efforts. Alma and Hazel had grown… much closer than they’d ever been. They’d bought a house in an isolated place- where Alma could hunt, Hazel could farm, and Eliza could perform research in solitude. Not everything was perfect, though. Even beyond Hazel’s incontinence, which she figured must be the most humiliated curse in existence, there were rumors that more demons stalked the land. For two years, Hazel had wondered if they’d defeated Zalacay as thoroughly as they thought they had. Perhaps it was possible something had escaped before they ended the ritual. But they were done with fighting. They enjoyed the lives they carved out for themselves, and had no intention of uprooting themselves. Hazel threw on some clothes that hid her diaper from sight, and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. She moved for town, mentally creating a checklist of foods to pick up. As she walked, the first rays of sunlight kissed her face, much like when they left Arnwick. In the end, Arnwick really had been a new beginning for her. Certainly not in any way that she’d expected, but even through the pain and horror, she wouldn’t have changed her decisions even if she could. The people they’d become were so much more than people they were, and she wouldn’t trade that for anything.
  40. 12 points

    The football girls

    Hey guys this is my new series that I am going to be working on for a while hope you guys enjoy as I've discontinued the previous threads I was working on (and for anyone who's wondering this is British football not American football) Part 1 At approximately 10am an alarm sounded in a bedroom waking 15yr old Amy from her bed. In truth she didnt want to wake up but she had to as she had the one thing she never looked forward to, football practice. She dragged herself out of bed and slowly dragged her body into the bathroom to get showered and dressed as she had to be at the pitch by 11.30. After her shower she made her her way into her bedroom to get changed into her kit which had been laid out the night before. She then got herself ready to go and took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. She stared at herself in her black and white football kit and noticed that one of her short brown hairs was laying on her shorts and quickly brushed it off before heading downstairs. She arrived in her kitchen to meet her mother who was already making her breakfast, as always her mother complemented how good her daughter looked in her kit. Amy smiled back at her mom and greeted her as usual it was her mom who convinced her to join the team, not like Amy's mother forced her to do it though she always made it clear that she was fee to quit at anytime she wanted the only reason she didnt quit was to avoid dissapointing her mother. Amy sat down at her kitchen table whilst her mother brought her breakfast to her which she quickly ate as it was already 11.00. Before she left for the pitch she also had a tall glass of orange juice and grabbed a bottle of water before jumping in her mums car to be taken to football practice. Whilst Amy was being driven to football she had realised one crucial thing that she had forgotten to do before she left the house and that thing was, use the toilet. See Amy's football coach was a woman in her early 40's named Mrs Peters and overall she was a good coach but if there was one thing Amy hated about Mrs Peters it was her bathroom policy. See Mrs Peters didnt allow any bathroom breaks during practice which lasted two and a half hours, there were bathrooms on site but they remained locked even for the youngest players who were about eight though to be fair the younger girls practice was not as long, she could'nt remember exactly how long as it had been years since she ws on shorter practice times she just knew it was shorter than her's. Now Amy never had bladder problems but waiting over two and a half hours to pee when she would be constantly drinking water to stay hydrated would make any girl's bladder tremeble especially when the last time you peed was the night before, infact she had actually peed herself on her first ever practice because she was'nt aware of the bathroom policy, she could remember standing in line for the toilet with basically her whole team as nearly everyone had to pee, her body trembling her hands dug in her crotch until her body gave in and pee burst out of her pee hole full force soaking her pants and shorts and all the while she just stood in the same spot whilst her also desperate teammated just walked around her. Luckily no one made fun of her as they were all pretty sympathetic of her situation and the very next day someone else wet themselves infact even when they were all 15 accidents were still not uncommon among the team due to her crazy bathroom policy infact one of the girls had gotten so desperate that she had peed in her water bottle during break she didnt even run away behind a wall she just sat away from everyone else pulled her shorts down and peed in her bottle whilst the coach wasnt looking. In fact in Amy's seven years of playing for the team there was only one girl who hadnt peed herself ever and that girl was Amy's good friend Samantha, somehow she was always able to hold her pee during the entore practice even if shehad stated that she had to pee at the beggining of practice. Anyway Amy thought she was okay as she didnt have to pee yet and she thought that she would be fine, unitl her mom pulled up to the parking lot of the pitch when Amy felt that twitching feeling in her abdomen which indicated that a small urge to pee was brewing inside her. Amy was slightly worried by this but hoped that she would forget about it in time. Amy said goodbye to her mom but before she got out her mother gave her a change of clothes to change into if she got muddy by the end of practice as her mother did not like mud in her car. After that her mother wished her luck and then pulled out of the parking lot. Amy went into to the changing facilities to leave the change of clothes and to meet up with Samantha and another girls who Samantha said was starting today. She made her way into the changing facilities past the toilet, which was now locked. When she entered the changing room she saw that only two girls reamined inside one was Samantha and the other was a girl she didnt recognise, she was a short girls with long black straight hair who was sittibg beside Samantha who was still getting ready. Amy walked over to the girls and said hi to Samantha whilst also introducing herself to the other girl who's name was Molly the three girls continued talking and eventually Molly asked where the toilets were which is when Amy realised that Samantha forgot to tell her the most important part about the club. The two girls explained to her that the toilets would be locked until the end of practice which was in two and a half hours. Molly was stunned at this and asked if there was any exceptions to which Samantha replied only if your sick, Molly just stood there stunned but then said that she could make it anyway and Amy felt better knowing that she wasnt the only one who needed to pee. The three girls conversation was interupted by Mrs Peters who knocked on the changing room door to ask if anyone was still in there to which the girls replied that they were leaving now. The three girls walked out to see the face of their coach Mrs Peters who firstly welcomed Molly to the club and lead them to where the rest of the team was waiting. The girls headed over to the rest of the team maknig sure to grab their water bottles before they left as her training sessions were always extremely hard. The girls went over to the rest of the team and the first thing they started with was a bunch of running exercises which was always what they started with the way these sessions worked is that every 30 minutes thay had a short break to rest and refill their water bottles. During the exercises Amy was able to forget about her bladder mid way through as the pressure had been steadily increasing throughout the first 15 minutes of the training session and by the look of things Amy seemed to have forgotten about her urge to pee aswell it all went well, that was until the first break. The three girls sat down together and when they did Amy's bladder was starting to send stronger signals that it needed relief, it wasnt anything noticeable or anything that would prevent her from practicing but it was getting worse. While resting Samantha asked Molly how she was holding up to which she responded "good, but I still have to pee though". Amy thought it would be a good time to reveal that she too had to pee to which she replied by saying she felt better knowing someone else was in the same boat as she shifted in place to relieve the pressure a bit whilst Amy did the same. Near the end of the first break Samantha excused herself to go refill her water bottle at the bleachers near the other end of the pitch, even though her bottle was still three quarters of the way full, Samantha always filled up her bottle near the end of break and she never knew why. Soon the next bit of practice began and the girls started with some basic football drills as always, though this time Amy could still feel her bladder asking to be relieved as it didnt go away during the next fifth of training but it got stronger and she could tell that Molly was having a symiliar experience as she noticed that Molly was getting slower and that she had one hand near her crotch when she wasnt moving, Amy wasnt at that stage yet but she was getting there as she could feel the desperation building up inside her. At the second break the three girls once again sat together and Amy noticed that Molly had her hands in her crotch she figured Molly must be pretty desperate by now Samantha noticed this and asked both of them if they were okay to which they both replied yes, even though in truth Amy didnt know if she would make it or not as even though she wasnt showing it she was probably as desperate as Molly, as she could feel her full bladder pulsing inside of her begging for release as the third practice stretch began. The third practice stretch was more painful than the last two as the need in her bladder refused to go away in fact it only got worse as time went on judging by the fact that neither could run as fast as they previously could and Molly seemed to have her hands in her crotch whenever she wasnt moving infact when she was behing Molly she thought she heard a hissing sound and when she turned around Molly was doubled over, Amy guessed she might've leaked or something and in her case she wsnt doing much better as she could feel the swolen bladder begging for release as practice continued. When the thrid break started Molly was at her limit she just sat there with her hands dug in her crotch praying she wouldnt pee herself and Amy noticed what looked to be a tiny wet stain on her shorts, barely visible confirming that she had leaked earlier. The three girls just sat there talking until Molly suddenly shot up and ran over to the bleachers near the water fountain which were empty by now as the two girls ran after her with Amy going slightly slower due to her very full bladder they saw little wet patches on the dry ground which made them think Molly might be wetting herself. Their suspicion was confirmed when they turned the corner to go behind the bleacher only to see Molly loudly puffing and panting as pee streamed down her legs and through her shorts as she just stood there with a relieved look on her face. The two girls just stood in shock watching as Molly continued peeing full force into her pants and shorts. When Molly finished peeing panicking ensued not just from Molly but from Amy who's need had only gotten worse from seeing Molly pee herself. Samantha calmed Molly down and told her that it wasnt that visible which it wasnt and since it was so hpt outside they would dry quickly, Amy was another issue though as she was now doubled over her bladder in complete agony as it begged for release as she felt pee pushing against her sphincer, Amy was about to head back to the team when she felt a spurt of pee escape her peehole and dampen her white panties, she quickly doubled over and stood on the spot. Samantha sighed and then spoke up telling her to go under the bleachers. Slowly Amy ducked inside only to see a small box with a roll of toilet paper inside. Samantha explained to her that when her older sister played for this team they made this little area for the team to go pee during the breaks as they still never allowed toilet breaks, she then said that when she joined the team her older sister took her to this spot with her time when she was very desperate and since all the members of her older sisters team have left Samantha was the only one who knew about it and since the bleachers wre deemed unsafe to use no one came over here and they were pushed back behind the far goal post. Amy then realised that Samantha wanted her to go pee here which at first she agreed to almost instantly, Amy asked Samantha and Molly to stand back which they did and when the coast was clear Amy quickly lowered her shorts down to her knees and squatted low on the ground, she found it hard to get the flow started at first but soon her pee exited her pee hole, it was slow at first but it then picked up speed at it exited her peehole, Amy sighed in relief as she watched the golden liquid splatter onto the ground as the other two girls waited for her to finish. Amy stream eventually started to die down until it was nothing but a trickle and then nothing. Amy used one of the available peices of toilet paper to wipe herself dry and quickly got up to greet the other girls who were waiting for her. The girls were about to head back to the pitch but Molly stayed behind as she didnt think her bladder was fully empty and she wanted to make sure. The two girls headed back to the pitch alone and Amy looked back at the bleachers and thought to herself "Training here is gonna be a whole lot easier" End of part 1
  41. 12 points
    A public safety announcement regarding Omorashi servers on Discord™ Hello everyone! This is not something we normally ever do as we dislike being involved in any community drama, but recently we have noticed some disturbing facts regarding some larger Omorashi/Pee fetish themed servers on Discord that we believe others in the community deserve to be made aware of as well. A few weeks ago, a specific server hit our radar when reports came in of a member of posting that they were planning to try and attack the OmoOrg Discord. While we promptly intervened in this matter and nothing ultimately came of this threat, it did bring our attention to the servers other activities. Over time, we also became aware that they were spreading some rather.. odd conspiracy theories regarding the state of OmoOrg, mentioning things such as "the OmoOrg admin planning to take legal action against the OmoOrg Discord". https://www.omorashi.org/profile/1-maki/?status=24378&type=status Considering I am both the admin of the forums and the Discord, I think it's safe to say there's no chance I am taking legal action against myself for anything. Please be careful that you do not fall for random unsubstantiated rumors like this. If you have any concerns regarding OmoOrg, we are here to help, just reach out to us. We are happy to help clarify any misunderstandings like this. Shortly after this, more members of our community came forward with reports of some other concerning actions members of this server have engaged in. Most notably, some of the high ranking members of this server managed to perform a hostile takeover of another Omorashi themed Discord server. It's also worth nothing that this Discord which they took over has openly advertised allowing minors ages 14 and up to join on Discord server directories, Though the administration of Pisscord denies having any involvement in this, the owner of the server seems to have joined this server shortly after the takeover and banning of its original owner. Shortly after this, the owner of this server promoted the member that performed this takeover to moderator status on their own server. So now the administration of this server is knowingly involved with the takeover of a server that is a potential breeding ground for groomers by allowing underage minors into a kink space that should be strictly 18+. In an attempt to allow the administrator of the Pisscord server to defend themselves and make sure they were aware of all of this, we reached out to them for comment and were shortly after banned. We only bring this to your attention as one of these servers boasts a relatively high member count on public directories, and we want to ensure you are careful and informed before you decide to join servers like this. I want to be very clear that this post is in no way advocating you to join these servers just to troll or anything else. If we find out / get reports that members of our servers have been engaging in attacks against other servers, regardless of the reason, we will ban your account. Threats or targeted harassment are never acceptable, regardless of the reason or motivation. Just please be careful getting involved with servers that could be potentially harboring minors. Be safe out there, and have fun!
  42. 12 points
    I'm back! I'm sorry I disappered for ever but I am back with more omo goodness So okay, I'm doing this thing where, when I'm not at work, I limit the ammount of times I can pee, I started at a limit of 6 and that was really difficult but nothing as bad as 4 pees a day. I woke up at 8am with my legs crossed and my hands between my legs, it took me a couple of minutes to realise what was happening when I realised oh shit I really have to pee, and ya'll, I needed to pee so bad. I was squirming and crossing my legs and pushing my hand so hard against my pee hole in a futile attempt to hold it all in. I was about to get up and peg it to the toilet when I realised I wasn't at work that day so I thought I'd have some fun. I logged on to discord on my phone and expressed my need to pee when one of the people who helps me out with these holds came on and told me that I had to hold it for longer as it was too early. I grabbed a bunch of towels as a precaution and got to work tending to my villege in animal corssing as I desperatly held on. this went on for arond half an hour when I saw a message pop up. 'Also I really want to edge someone while they hold hhn' I was already horny as fuck and well I asked if he'd do the honors and edge me. I'm not going to post the contents because it's a bit graphic and I can't be bothered to scroll up on another chat log. But he really edged me well all while tourturing my poor bladder. I didn't last long at all, a mere 5 minutes before my bladder couldn't take it anymore and emptied itself all in my pjs and panties, along with other fluids :p. I'll be sure to update ya'll on how I do going forward, I'm down to 3 pees a day when I'm not at work and daaaaaamn it's tricky.
  43. 12 points

    izenn's Art

    Hi~I will post my omorashi arts here. I mostly draw desperate girls. I'd like to hear your opinions. Do you like them? O(∩_∩)O I don't draw regularly, though. I will show you my recent works. By the way, English is not my first language but I am learning it. I am also learning Japanese. Please forgive me if some expressions sound weird to you. wwwww
  44. 11 points

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    After two hours of absolute torture, she had finally reached her limit. Maybe the "Extra Large" iced tea was a bad idea... especially considering how it's now kind-of spraying the pavement! (That pee probably feels really good, though!...)
  45. 11 points
    My first attempt at GIFs, and my first published artwork. I hope You like it! <3
  46. 11 points

    3,792 downloads

    I've been gone for awhile and can't come back to uploading a lot just yet but I got some messages recently and had the day off so I wanted to scrape up some videos that I haven't seen yet or that are just to good not to download. I'm not sure what's been posted since I've been away but I hope at least some of these are new and enjoyable for you to watch. Some videos had to be trimmed to avoid scat and a couple were rotated I believe.

    Free

  47. 11 points
    Found a model on pornhub. I asked if she would be willing to make me a custom panty wetting video. She agreed but asked if I wanted more than a simple bed wetting video. So I asked if she is willing to make a 30 minute long video of her spending a whole day wetting and rewetting herself. She will not take off her panties or change out of them. I told her I want them to dry while she is wearing them and she agreed! I asked her is she can show me a picture of her wearing some panties she said she has. I want to see what the look like on her. Then I am going to put in the order for the video. What makes this even more awesome is she will be a first timer!
  48. 11 points
    I just thought some of you may enjoy checking out this photo from the early days of HD Wetting. The concept behind this photo was that Sammy climbed up the ladder to clean the gutters, but being afraid of heights, she grew so terrified that she had a little accident. The camera, at ground level, gave us a nice upskirt view as she wet herself.
  49. 11 points
  50. 11 points

    Stop sharing "Freakart"

    @slovenc79 I am sorry, but I disagree with many of the point you made. You can't actually know what someone's inner thoughts or motivations are. You may suspect that it is all about money, but you don't actually know what she is thinking. She is saying that it isn't all about money, and she is the only one who knows for sure. At HD Wetting we are constantly on the look out for new models, and on a somewhat frequent basis I have been contacted by women who are interested in modeling for us, who say they legitimately enjoy wetting, but who are concerned about how many people could see their videos. They are comfortable with the idea that their videos may only bee seen by a few dozen paying customers, but not the idea that their content could be exposed to the wider internet. Many people do believe that having a paywall does limit the potential spread of content, especially people who have limited experience in this field. I have no trouble believing that a small, independent producer is uncomfortable with the idea of so many people seeing her videos and not being able to control it. Expressing one's sexuality to an audience is an incredibly brave, and personal, thing. Potential models that I interact with frequently express the desire to have some control over who is able to see their content, so I can easily believe that is the case here. And no one, unless they have psychic powers and can read her mind, really know anything different. I'm not sure what this has to do with a content creator wanting to have control over their content, but I can tell you that this isn't easy money, at all. In addition to the effort that goes into making videos, which admittedly technology has greatly simplified, there is still quite a bit of work involved with getting that content in front of potential buyers and marketing it so people will actually buy it. A successful independent content producer is having to constantly work to connect with their customers; plus they have to manage their own accounting, content production schedules, customer support, and everything else. Even being close to successful at this takes tremendous work and effort, it is far from easy money. Also, a lot of people simply are not good on camera. More than once we have tried to do shoots at HD Wetting with girls who had no modeling or acting experience, but who were very into the fetish. However, they were so incredibly awkward on camera that you would never believe they actually were into it at all. People change once the camera is on and is recording. We had another model in the early days of HD Wetting who was very popular. She wasn't into pee or wetting at all, finding the whole thing kinda gross and weird. She just didn't get it. But she had a background in theater and modeling, and watching her scenes, she totally could sell that she was thoroughly enjoying every bit of it. The idea that you can tell from their on-camera performance if they are really enjoying it or not is a fantasy. Anyone who has actually done this kind of work knows that. You cited some of the fetish clips from the 90's and 00's as positive examples of kink content- One thing that was different then was the barrier to entry. The technical requirements to record, edit, and distribute video at that time were much greater. In addition to a greater monetary investment in equipment that was required, there also was a base level of technical experience necessary to make it all happen. As a result, independent model/producers doing their own thing wasn't really a possibility. Creating a video required at least a producer and a model, usually a full crew with a producer/director, camera person, sound person, and editor. This allowed for real time monitoring and critique of the scenes as they were filmed, so it is no wonder that the content was better, as so much more went into it. But you also said some of the best stuff was from the 90's and 00's, where there was much more money involved and it was much more of a business. You say things have declined today, but it is much easier for real amateurs to produce and distribute videos. What it seems like you are dancing around is the concept of authenticity in videos. You are noticing that a lot of more amateur produced content that is available now lacks a feeling of authenticity- In a professional production, fake authenticity can be manufactured, and you had more of this early on when you had more skilled and professional people working to make videos. The ironic thing is that now that there are more real amateur videos out there, the amateur creators do not understand the language of motion pictures and do not understand how to manufacture authenticity in their products. So even though it is actually more real, it feels more fake. It is not all about money now. In fact, it has never been less about money. Everyone involved in this kind of content is making less money than ever before. For a solo producer, even a basic masturbation video will earn more than a wetting scene. Passion and money are not mutually exclusive. It is completely understandable that someone who enjoys wetting might want to make a few extra bucks by selling a video of themselves doing it. That doesn't mean they are into wetting any less, it just means they want to make a bit of money. You say this, but then the language you use doesn't feel very respectful, at least not to the performers in the videos. Or do only videos that rise to a certain standard get your respect, while you disregard other models? In your post you call freakart "honey," you tell her that her content, "isn't about you," and you tell her she is "making a fuss." That kind of language sounds demeaning and like you do not respect her or her desire to be in control of her own content. You go on to refer to other independent content creators as "loads of 20-something chicks who want easy money," completely failing to acknowledge the amount of work, effort, investment, or bravery that goes into doing something like this, and then later lump them altogether as "brats." Considering how little money there is in wetting videos, and the potential damage to their reputation, I have a hard time believing any of them are doing it just for easy money. Especially since I know that they could be making more in other kinds of content. They may lack the technical skills, acting education, and experience required to manufacture authenticity, but I don't think that justifies the level of disrespect illustrated here. Nor do I think that it justifies denying a content creator control over her own content, regardless if her motives are monetary or not.
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