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  1. 3 points
    Again, back to my original finding in your first post, you said the uni person wasnt real, now you say she is, why not show this to the girl you lied to? If your “uni” friend is real and thinks this would be funny, why not show the other girl too? You claim you didnt do anything wrong, so why not show her your original first post? About how she admitted to her bedwetting problems secretly to her past professor because you brought up a girl who was in a similar situation, and reads at the end of your first post “so even if your uni friend is imaginary “ and sees you lied about a fake situation with a fake person that tricked her into opening up I bet it wont be so funny anymore, your intentions even in the beginning were not in a good way to help people overcome shyness about wetting, you lied to a former student who trusts you and saw you as a caring person and made her tell a secret about herself because you made up a lie, not cool at all, and btw, being called a creepy professor is not a compliment I dont even think you are a professor because if you were you would be fired by now for so many reasons
  2. 1 point
    So this happened about a couple months ago. I came home from work, took off my uniform and had a quick shower before I take my usual mid day nap. Its around 5:30 when i lay in bed and set my alarm for 8:30pm. (Yes i know my naps are long and sometimes the length of a full sleep) I later wake up to my alarm blasting in my ear looking for the yellow snooze button on my Iphone. I hit snooze and lay on my back, when i feel a pressure of me needing to pee. I ignore it as i am too comfortable and tired to get out of bed right away, along with the amazing feeling i have holding it. I tend to fall back to sleep for a few minutes before my alarm goes off again and i finally get up to go about my night. I get up, put on some grey sweats and a shirt when i hear someone message me. It was one of my girl friends ive known since i was 13. She wanted to know if i wanted to video chat with her and another mutual friend. So i reply with a “sure let me set up my ipad” and do just that. By this time im about at a 8.5 out of 10 but feel like holding it more. This is when i had the idea of trying to completely pee myself while on video chat but make sure no one even notices. I set up my ipad and chug a bottle of water and get the video call. I quickly grab a folded up towel, place it on my chair, sit in the towel and answer. We all greet each other with our “heys” and “what uuup” and start chatting about random things throughout our day. About 15 minutes into the call i feel all the water i just drank hit my bladder, hard. I went from an 8.5 to a 9.5 really quick. I start easing my hand down and hold myself discretely and keep chatting. A few minutes go by and they both go to grab something to snack on and by then i could finally hold myself with both hands. I shove one hand under my sweats but above my briefs and the other ontop of my hand to keep pressure. They come back and i go back to normal. As i remove my hand i feel myself lose a bit as it started to get a bit warm around my crotch area. It felt so good but i held it a bit more so it didnt pour out onto the floor and make a loud noise. Another couple minutes go by and i start to give in. As im listening and chatting i start peeing a little at a time. The first spurts come out into my briefs and i fell that warm and wetness spread and get onto my sweats. I take a quick look down to see how much i let out and i notice a wet spot the size of my palm already formed. I continue chatting and let out some more, starting to feel the warmth spread to my thighs and a couple drops go down my right leg. I secretly put my hand under my sweats to try and hold it a bit but by this point i had to go now. I relaxed and started peeing completely, knowing at this point it wouldnt make noise on the floor. I continue peeing, having it spread through my entire front half of my sweats and fill the towel completely. After about a minute of peeing, i finish and continue chatting for about 20 more minutes before i told then i had to go to sleep for work the next morning. I hang up and check the damage. My sweats went from light grey. To dark grey completely. I take a shower, clean up and get ready for bed and think of another time i could possibly do the same thing again.
  3. 1 point
    Heyy everyone!! I just got in from an 8.5-hour drive for work, so if my writing is a bit lacking, I apologize in advance! During these long hours, however, I tackled a new pee challenge to stave off the boredom and wanted to share the experiences while the excitement is fresh! So I woke up about an hour earlier than I intended this morning. Typically, I would hop into the shower pretty quickly and relieve myself for the morning there, but I had an idea: From the moment of awakening until I checked into my motel room, I would only pee in unconventional places...and never in the same place twice. I guess showers aren't technically a "conventional place" to release one's bladder, but I find it so dang satisfying that I do it every morning (confession time haha) and figured it'd be cheating to start off my new challenge that way. I was really bursting for a pee, so I opted for perhaps the simplest and easiest "unconventional pee" on the books: I dashed to my living room, slipped off my panties, spread my legs a little more than shoulder-width apart, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Within seconds, the morning silence turned into a crisp patter, which swiftly transformed into a forceful cascade. My eyes still shut, my lips curled into an impish smile with satisfaction as I let out a relieved sigh. I really had to go. I moved my feet together and shot a glance down as a warm rush began to encompass my feet. A very sizeable puddle was forming on my wood floor (I made an immature joke to myself about morning wood) and streaks of stray urine streamed down my legs. Apparently, my floor isn't entirely level because a small stream began to shoot off to the right of the puddle. Who'd've thought pee could be a handy architectural tool? At last, the contents of my bladder diminished to the last few drops, some of which spurted to the floor, the rest to my legs. I recognized the error of my ways as I went to fetch some paper towels...leaving a trail of pee foot prints on my path to the kitchen. Still enjoying my nakedness from the waist down, I grabbed a wad of towels, wiped my self down, and retraced my tracks to the formidable puddle. Then I ran a quick mop around the area, hopped into the shower, and prepared for my trek, feeling satisfied with my first wizz of the day. I donned a black skirt today to facilitate my unwillingness to use the facilities, and hopped into my car for the long journey, gently sipping from my water bottle. About an hour down the road, I still wasn't feeling any urge at all, so I began drinking a little more ambitiously. Another hour passed and, right about the time my gas tank was hitting E, my bladder was hitting F. I had been mildly fidgeting in my seat for a few minutes and was thankful for a pit stop. I pulled into a dumpy little gas station and was quickly thankful for my pact of unconventional peeing. It seemed like the kind of place you'd catch 15 diseases just from touching the restroom door handle. As I lifted the nozzle and put it into my gas tank, I pondered my options. It was fairly deserted, so I had a fair amount of freedom. The botanical coverage was somewhat lacking, so I couldn't run off into the woods to pee--which would've been fairly boring anyway. My options were either to pee at my car or around the side of the building. I started to make my way around the building when it occurred to me, There's no one here. Just pee from your car! I felt a surge of excitement with the thought. But what if someone drives up while I'm peeing? I shot back. You're two hours from home. Even if someone catches you, they won't recognize you. I retorted. Yeah, but what if someone catches me..? My argument against this undertaking was buckling. I quickly walked back to my car and made sure nobody from inside could make out what was going on. Between the numerous large advertisements in the window and where I was parked, I discerned that I could occlude line of sight from both the convenience store and the road if I opened my driver and rear passenger door. All the while, my bladder was urging me to quickly determine my course of action. Okay...You win. I conceded to myself. You won't regret it. I snarkily assured myself. I took one last glance around to ensure there were no unexpected audience members for the show. It was just as clear as when I pulled in. Tally ho. I opened both of my doors, lifted my skirt, and sat on the frame of the car. I nervously slid my panties to the side, my heart pounding furiously, the thrill egging me on. I continued nervously glancing around, certain some massive procession would determine that was the precise time to come gas up. Thankfully, no such procession materialized--only the occasional car shot down the road, oblivious to the woman baring her nether region to the gas pump in front of her. I had some difficulty getting the waterworks flowing as the hot humidity bore down on me, feeling like a thousand boiling oceans under the anxiety. I cursed softly as some urine gently shot askew, dampening my groin and streaking down to my butt. This was enough, however, to get the juices moving. I adjusted myself as the spurt evolved into a steady stream, drenching the pavement beneath me. My muscles were trembling from nervousness, excitement, and because of my awkward position. Once the stream was adequately established, I glanced around again. Still clear. Suddenly...THUD. Startled, my heart and I simultaneously jumped, and while I thankfully managed to avoid peeing all over myself, my stream faltered. It was just the gas pump as it finished filling my tank. I sighed with relief, adrenaline coursing through my body even more rapidly than the urine had been coursing from my urethra. After a moment, I managed to relax enough to begin peeing again. By the last few spurts, I had left a very respectable puddle, which pooled satisfyingly and streamed away slowly. My cover still not blown, I reached into my car, grabbed a tissue, and wiped myself clean. I replaced my panties and rubbed some sanitizer onto my hands as I admired my puddle and its many proud streaks. My heart was still pounding as I leaped into my car and sped off, nobody the wiser. Now I was feeling really confident. Perhaps too confident. For the sake of making good time on my trip, it took every ounce of will I had to not feverishly down water in anticipation of the next adventure. Despite this incredible (if I may say so myself) display of self-control, I had enough residual fluid working its way through my kidneys that I only made it about another hour down the road before pit stop #2 became a necessity. Okay...admittedly, I probably could've delayed a little longer, but I was excited to go for round 2 . This time, I pulled into a McDonalds...that wasn't quite as vacant as the gas station. This is going to be a challenge. I parked my car and made my way in, surveying the area. There were probably about 6 or 7 people, not counting employees, suggesting that perhaps trying anything outside was a bad idea. I briskly walked to the bathrooms and pushed open the door to the women's room, hoping it was maybe single occupancy and I could just pee in the sink or something (I wasn't about to give up so easily in the face of adversity!). To my disappointment, it was not. There were two stalls, a trash can, and a sink. I thought about pulling the trash can into the stall and peeing into it, but that seemed somewhat like cheating, so I opted against it. Hmm...What about a floor drain? Nope. It was in the middle of the bathroom. I'd be flashing anyone walking through the door. Recognizing I didn't have any particularly good options there, I gently cracked open the door to take another look around. In doing so, I caught a glimpse of the men's room sign. A light bulb went off in my head. Even using the stall in there wouldn't be a conventional pee. The bathroom entrances were offset into a little cove, with walls that occluded the doors from the rest of the restaurant. I slowly crept out to see if I could sneak my way in (praying I wasn't going to walk in on some guy at the urinal). There were several people sitting within sight of the cove, but they were pretty distracted. But what if I walk in on some guy peeing?! Again, my heart was racing. I compromised. I went back into the women's room, where I could wait without looking out-of-place to other restaurant goers. I stood by the door and listened for the men's room door. Several minutes passed, during which I heard nothing. If anyone's in there, he's taking a crap and I can slip out unnoticed. I exited the women's room again and nervously glanced from the cove. Nobody was paying much attention, so I swiftly and confidently (only on the outside. Inside, I was terrified) pushed my way into the men's room, half expecting to find a guy, penis-in-hand, with a look of shock on his face as I barged in. Thankfully, I did not. It was empty. The butterflies in my stomach were violently trying to rip their way out of my abdominal wall and pure epinephrine jolted through me. I swear, my heart rate probably set a world record. I quickly made my way toward the stall, longingly eying the urinal and I passed. I closed the stall door behind me, silently sighing with immense relief as I clicked the lock. As I turned to face the toilet, my anxious euphoria was dampened slightly--the toilet was filthy. It was covered in urine and there were splatters on the floor. Cautiously, I raised my skirt up, pulled my panties to the side, and semi-straddled the porcelain with my butt hanging over it, afraid to let anything touch it. Again, my muscles were trembling--though much more this time. Admittedly, as I began to pee, I contributed a fair amount to the urine on the toilet seat (oops! ). Relief swept over me as I emptied my bladder, vigorously tinkling into the water below. It was strange to get such a surge of excitement from something so mundane as a regular toilet! Context is everything, I guess! As I was wiping, my heart surged again and my eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I heard the door open. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP--No--BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, my heart raced so loudly I thought for sure he would hear it. Still hovering my butt over the toilet seat, toilet paper in hand, I barely dared to breathe as I heard this mystery man rustling his pants at the urinal. The sound of urine striking porcelain. I'd've probably been turned on, had I not been terrified. I'm certain he only peed for a normal amount of time, but it seemed to me as though his bladder was endless. I began to think I would grow old and die in this men's room stall, awaiting his conclusion. At last, however, my fears were assuaged when, somehow, the sound of him spitting and the flush of the urinal were not drowned out by the ferocious pounding of my cardiovascular system. He spent a few brief seconds at the sink and I heard the door open...then close. I stood there for a few moments, absolutely petrified. Suddenly, my thoughts burst into a frenzy. I finished wiping, didn't even remember to flush or wash my hands, and dashed for the door, afraid someone would walk in. Thankfully, nobody did. I burst through the door much more forcefully than I had intended. This attracted the attention of a lady at a table near the restrooms who gave me a puzzled look, which transitioned into a dirty look when she realized I was emerging from the men's room. I just sped past, avoiding eye contact, and jumped into my car. It wasn't until several miles down the road that I finally calmed down and remembered I forgot to wash up. More hand sanitizer. And a lot of AC--I had worked up a bit of a sweat. After the anxiety subsided, I began laughing with hysterical euphoria. I did it! I used a men's room in a crowded area AND at the same time as a guy! Also striking to me, was that, because I was like 3 hours away from home, there were virtually no consequences. Sure, the woman caught me, but what was she going to do? We'll never see each other again! Seeing how crazy long this recount is becoming, I'll quickly summarize the more mundane ones (or ones similar to stories I've written in the past) and then skip to the final one. Another hour and a half in, I peed into a gas station restroom trash can (yeah, I know, I considered this cheating earlier...but after McDonalds, I was willing to tame it down a bit). Two hours after that, I did the classic cup-pee in my car at a roadside rest. Finally, after about 8.5 hours of travel, a little longer than anticipated, I pulled into the motel. During the last half hour, I began really piling on the fluids again, so by the time I pulled in, I really had to go--bad. I wasn't allowed a trip to the ladies' room until I had checked into my room, however. I parked and virtually ran inside, hoping to work through the process as quickly as possible. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait in a line. The guy checking me in was very friendly. I probably seemed like an anti-social jerk because I was focusing more on not peeing all over the floor, or at the very least, dancing like an idiot in front of him, clutching my lady bits, than on friendly chit-chat. Hurriedly, I thanked him as I grabbed my key and raced off. Not even bothering to grab my luggage, I began searching for my room. En route, however, I found a little cove that I assumed formerly hosted a vending machine. As I shot past it, I turned around, considering, Why waste a perfectly good bladder of pee? You haven't checked into your room yet. Forget the luxury of a toilet. I glanced around to ensure nobody was loitering around. Nope. I ducked into the cove, where I proceeded to fully and properly wet myself. No skirt-raising, no panties pulled to the side, just torrents of pee rushing down my legs, soaking my socks and shoes, and a steady trickle straight to the ground, forming yet another large puddle. After the encounter at McDonalds, this seemed like child's play and came to me easily. Within a long few seconds, I was thoroughly drenched from the waist down. I giggled a little as I admired my puddle, then raced off to find my room, the urine quickly cooling in the night breeze, chilling my legs ever so slightly. I found my room and, still wearing my urine-soaked clothes, lugged all my stuff in, enjoying the dampness. Without even changing, I laid a towel on the chair and set up my laptop to write this. Now...if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning up to do and some tingling to tend to downstairs I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!!
  4. 1 point
    You don't seem to understand why people are down-voting your posts on here. There's two reasons you're missing, and they are demonstrated in the two sentences I quoted above. 1.) That's not something to take as a compliment. We're not trying to be rude or dig at your character, but we've said that you don't seem like an old professor type, and once we said that, you failed to convince us otherwise. You say things about you, but you don't demonstrate it. One would think that a person who teaches English--even if they were caught deep in casual speak with many errors--could put forth the effort to type clearly in order to demonstrate an actual grasp of the English language. Furthermore, if you had a decent grasp of the English language, you would have been able to see why we thought your initial post was confusing, and you wouldn't have immediately tried to defend it but would have instead tried to correct your own mistakes. Your continued insistence that you made no mistakes, along with continued insistence of things which are very likely lies, is the second reason you are getting downvotes (the first reason is in the next paragraph). I'll be the first to say that it's possible you really are an English teacher, but if you really wanted us to believe that, the better way to go about it, rather than insist it, would be to demonstrate it. <-take notes, I just made a sentence with five commas, no lists, and it isn't a run-on sentence We don't want to shame you here. We don't want you to come away from this post miserable. We don't want to shred our relationship with you, and we don't want to burn that bridge, either. What we want is for you to have the fortitude to recognize when you were wrong. You don't have to apologize if you're not comfortable with it, but you shouldn't dig yourself in deeper by repeating the same things you've already said. Even if you're right and we're wrong, all it will do is continue to divide you and us further apart. 2.) I'm a shy person, and I don't need advice for how to wedge a topic into a conversation. Sometimes a conversation isn't compatible with a topic. I like @kochel428's advice but more than anything I find the best advice I could give to anyone is empathy, sincerity, and patience, in that order. You must have the empathy to determine when it is okay to insert the topic into the conversation, the sincerity to say how you truly feel about it, and the patience to understand it's not always the best time and you won't always get the best reaction. Now I do have an advantage over many in being able to get conversations into a very personal place; people tend to appreciate being able to confide in me, it's a special ability I have and I don't know how it works. But on the flip-side I have very high difficulty in approaching new people, and I am very easily stressed by being around people I don't know. So there's an up and a down for all of us. The first mistake you made was to assume that we need some sort of objective advice for a subjective type of situation, or to suggest that there is some method to slip a topic into a conversation where it doesn't belong. It was partially your methodology and partly the situation you described, which sounded to me like the wrong time to bring it up, and partly the way you insinuated that in your situation it went well, which I think to most of us it sounded quite the opposite. She was nice, that doesn't mean you did everything right, and if you were past your teens, you'd be expected to know that. I want to re-iterate that we don't want to shame you here. We don't want you to come away from this post miserable. We don't want to shred our relationship with you, and we don't want to burn that bridge, either. What we want is for you to have the fortitude to recognize when you were wrong. You don't have to apologize if you're not comfortable with it, but you shouldn't dig yourself in deeper by repeating the same things you've already said. Even if you're right and we're wrong, all it will do is continue to divide you and us further apart. Please be well, I have only the best wishes for you. I appreciate all of the times you were kind to us, even if it came off as patronizing. I'm sorry if I come off as patronizing, and feel free to correct me on it. And I appreciate you not losing your temper, I know this must be difficult for you. Please be strong, and know that we want you to be happy.
  5. 1 point
    Uhhh, most nights. 😳 Umm, I don’t usually NEED them unless I’m seriously stressed out though. Like the last week for example. But I do usually wear most nights, but usually because I just like how safe they make me feel. I wear during the day if I’m not working more often than not.
  6. 1 point
    I typed "omorashi" in hiragana alphabet in the search, I think the results are better: https://www.tokyomotion.net/search?search_query=おもらし&search_type=videos
  7. 1 point
    So, after reading all your other posts, I just have to ask. Are you teaching English "ironically"?
  8. 1 point
    It’s been a while since I was caught up in such a desperate situation as yesterday. So I went to China on an exchange programme last year and I really enjoyed it. I made a lot of dear friends, and for the coming two weeks, I’m back there again to visit my friends and relatives for a quick holiday. My flight to China was pleasant enough. I came from Australia where the weather is cool, but summer is approaching in China so I went to the bathroom to change out of my autumn clothing as the plane was nearing its destination. By then, I was already feeling an urge to pee. In the bathroom I wrestled in the tiny cubical, squeezing out of my jeans, and changing into my shorts and T shirt. For a second I considered whether I should pee then and there, but I was clutching an armful of clothes and I figured I could pee once I was off the plane. The plane slowly closed in on the airport, and by the time it had landed I was pretty desperate to pee, and my legs felt a little jelly from the urge. After going through immigration and grabbing my luggage, I was dragging two suitcases (a girl needs her clothes!) and my handbag, and there were lines at the girl’s bathroom. I had to pee pretty badly but I didn’t want to pee while carrying so much stuff and I was confident I could hold it in till I reached the hotel where I was staying. After making this terrible decision I went to take a taxi. The taxi lines were long and it took another 15 minutes till I finally got my taxi. I needed to pee pretty badly and I was already starting to regret my decision. All the juice I drank on the plane was flowing to my bladder, and I found myself unable to stand still. I put my whole weight on my vagina, pressing against the suitcase handle, and it made the wait bearable. The taxi driver was a 40 year old looking guy. He said his back trunk was full so I had to put my suitcases at the backseat, while I sat at the front. We then set off to my hotel. The urge to pee grew and grew, and I was absolutely bursting to pee. The taxi driver seemed very interested in me and kept talking to me, asking me about where I’m from and what I’m doing in China, but I was so desperate I couldn’t quite focus on his talking. I crossed my legs as tightly as I could to hold it in. I considered telling the taxi driver to stop by for a while so I could pee, but I was too shy to tell some random dude I needed to pee. The hotel was further than I thought, and the driving took forever. A car cut in land and the driver stopped the car with a jolt. The seatbelt pressed on my bladder so hard I felt a huge pressure on my pee hole, and I had to clutch my vagina to hold my pee in. The driver asked if I was ok, and I realized I was becoming pretty obvious, so I told him I really needed to pee, and asked if he could let me off so I could find a bathroom. He assured me that we were ‘almost there’. While he drove on he kept saying how holding my pee is unhealthy, but I couldn’t help but notice how he kept leering at my legs as I held myself. I was trying to avoid holding myself in front of him but I was just too desperate. It was around 7:00 pm then and people were going home from work. As you might expect, there was a lot of traffic. I think after 15 minutes later I couldn’t take it anymore, and I suddenly burst out ‘我要尿出來啦’ (I’m going to pee) and I started crying. I didn’t, of course, pee, but I was so desperate every second felt like I was about to lose control. I was literally bouncing on my seat in desperation, and I didn’t want to pee myself in a taxi. I begged the driver to let me off for a while so I could find a toilet, but he just kept saying we’re almost there. Part of me suspected he was enjoying the show, and if he were I knew he would just drive till I peed myself. But there was nothing I could do in that position. My best hope was to keep holding it. The taxi seemed to drive on forever. My shorts were really tight, and my bladder was so full that I undid my button in hopes of giving it some ‘space’. Eventually, the taxi stopped at a traffic light, and right outside the window was a public bathroom! I told the driver to stop for a while so I could pee, but he kept saying he couldn’t stop at a traffic light. I was so desperate to pee I considered bolting out the car for the toilet, but I couldn’t leave all my luggage in the car and risk the driver driving off. I looked longingly at the toilet as the lights changed and we drove off. I was on the brink off peeing myself, and so I yanked my shorts off, and told the driver I’m about to pee in his car. He quickly pulled out a bottle and told me too pee in it. As I was opening the bottle pee was already gushing out. I tried my best to aim and I peed until I had almost completely filled the bottle, which was a large one. I cleaned myself up and put my shorts back on. We finally arrived, and after i unloaded all my stuff the driver drove off. Hopefully I’ll never have to see him again.
  9. 1 point
    Me and my weak bladder are back at it again. I was trying to practice self care this week since it was an easy one with very little work. I went to bed early and was excited to wake up leisurely since my usual morning class had been cancelled and I only had one other class that day so an evening spent relaxing was on its way. I, of course, was mistaken. Make no mistake, I woke up leisurely; but when I rolled over to check my phone, I noticed an event on my calendar. My eyes widened as I took in what it read. I had completely forgotten that I had promised the literary club I’m a member of that I would help set up for a guest lecturer the University was hosting. I now had 10 minutes to get dressed and over to campus. I hurriedly brushed my teeth and threw on clothes, grabbing my backpack as I raced out the door. In my haste, not only had I forgotten my key, but also to stop and have my morning pee. Of course, I thought of neither of these things as I hurried to the building we were setting up in. I made it just in time to help and then rushed off to lecture as soon as the preparations were done. It was only once I had sat down in lecture and had time to breathe that I realized my bladder was less than happy. I squirmed a bit until the feeling subsided and thought nothing more of it since there were only 30 minutes left in lecture and I knew I could head home right afterwards. Once the professor finished speaking and released us, I felt my bladder once again raise the warning flag. Although the feeling refused to subside, I once again blew it off. For a moment, I considered using the bathroom on campus; however, after a moment’s deliberation, I decided to just go ahead and make the walk home so I could collapse back into bed or have a nice Netflix date with me, myself, and I. My need only got worse and worse as I made my way home. I was squirming even as I walked, thighs pressing together as much as they could. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides constantly, as I resisted the temptation to hold myself. All the other times I had made the desperate walk back to my place had been after the sun had set. This time it was early afternoon, the sun was high in the sky, and pedestrians strolled past me, presumably oblivious to my struggle. Seconds seemed like hours as I hurried into the lobby and then into the elevator, trying desperately to both hold my bladder and make sure no one could tell that was exactly what I was doing. As the elevator ascended, I felt a large spurt dampen my panties. I grabbed my crotch, pee dancing in earnest as I felt the pressure in my bladder grow. Even once I reached my floor, I could barely appreciate that I was so close to relief because one of the people from my floor was on the other side. I quickly removed my hands from my crotch, thanking god that my neighbor hadn’t noticed, before giving them a brittle smile as they entered the elevator I had just vacated. Sensing my proximity to my apartment, and thus to a bathroom, my bladder begged for release, sending two more strong spurts into my panties and dampening my jeans. I could practically feel the liquid sliding down my sphincter, aching to be let free. I eagerly stopped in front of the door and reached into my bag to retrieve my keys but came up empty. I panicked as I continued to dig around but never once felt the cool, reassuring metal that would’ve signified I had the means to enter my apartment. I cursed loudly to myself, hitting the door with my free hand in frustration, as if doing so would magically allow me entrance. All my effort got me was another long leak into my pants, until a noticeable wet spot marred the front of my blue jeans. I got myself back under control, both hands pressed tightly into my crotch, as I took several calming breaths. Eventually, with trembling legs, I managed to get better control of myself and remove my hands. I mentally prepared myself to make the journey back down past the lobby to acquire a spare key. Although I hoped for a moment that the long leak would at least ease the pressure in my aching bladder, it only encouraged my body to let go. The ride back down to the lobby was excruciating and by the time I finally walked over to maintenance, each step I took nearly made me lose control. I gave the on-duty maintenance worker a forced smile as I asked for the spare, praying he wouldn’t notice my need but simultaneously hoping that he would so he’d hurry up. Unfortunately, he seemed in no rush and leisurely looked for the key before handing it over with a smile far more genuine than mine. I thanked him and turned on my heel to head back to my apartment. When my bladder slowly began to leak again, I knew it was game over. I felt it dribble down my leg, slipping to the floor, and undoubtedly leaving a small trail down my jeans. Every second the elevator took to return to ground floor was another second closer to what was beginning to feel like an inevitable accident. Having given up on all sense of decorum, I grabbed my crotch again, bending over at the waist and nearly in tears as my pent up urine strained to get free. Once the elevator finally arrived I hobbled in, quickly pressed the button to my floor, and turned so that the minute the door opened I could make a run for my apartment. Unfortunately, as the elevator doors closed, the floodgates opened. I let out a mortified “no, no, no! Not now! I’m so close!” but my bladder paid me no mind as it finally released itself. I felt the first large leak hit my hands as the elevator ascended, but I continued clutching myself in the desperate hopes of stopping the flood. Despite my best efforts, piss filled my panties, crotch growing warm, as the leak evolved into a waterfall. I was helpless to do anything but stare down at my wet hands, still buried in my crotch, my quickly darkening jeans, and the puddle beginning to form around me. The doors opened on my floor before I had even finished, and I numbly exited the elevator still pissing myself. There I was, a full grown college student, wetting myself where anyone could’ve seen me. Eventually my bladder exhausted itself, and for a minute I stood there staring at my soaked jeans and the damage I’d done to the carpet. I even thought back to the puddle I’d left in the elevator. My cheeks burned as I slowly made my way to my apartment, no need to rush now, and used the spare key to let myself in. I immediately spotted my keys sitting where’d I’d left them: in plain sight on the kitchen counter. I sighed and resigned myself to a long shower and an earlier laundry day then I’d intended.
  10. -1 points
    Sorry alex, (weird name for a girl by the way) but we need to fix up the failing systems. STAT!