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wetmepants

Dry Member
  • Posts

    25
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Personal Information

  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Ageplay
    Bedwetting
    Diapers
    Watersports
    Humiliation
    Messing
    Public humiliation
    Spanking

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wetmepants's Achievements

  1. If I rack my brain I can probably come up with a short list. One the list would be “I have to piss like a f****** race horse”. But a favorite of mine is borrowed from a mate who relayed a personal accounting of a wetting incident from his school years. He was stuck in a lesson knowing he could not last until the end yet couldn’t muster the courage to interrupt. It was a combination of all classes in a year so quite large. Eventually he resigned to “decision made, go wet” because he couldn’t endure any longer. That phrase has always stayed in my memory.
  2. Thank you for starting this thread. I was thinking of starting one myself. I just wrote a response under the topic: How Was the Bathroom Situation in Your School? This is a much more appropriate thread, so I am reposting most of it here. First, I’ll add a preamble. Then I’ll follow up with more if interest warrants it. The preamble: Following is the first moment I became aware I was pee shy. It was a consuming thought at the time. I really thought there was something wrong in my head. Of course, being genuinely shy and not wanting to stick out in anyway, I kept those thoughts to myself. So, I struggled with it into my twenties. As stated below there were lots of uncomfortable moments with an overly full bladder. There were some close calls and one time where I managed to soak my underwear. I’ve mentioned those in some of my other posts. Eventually the shyness evaporated in my twenties. I’d also like to add there are two dimensions to this, one is being unable to pee in front of others and the other being unable to admit my need to go. Excerpt from the other thread: … a thought came to me about how my Jr. High School bathrooms were a pivotal moment in my omorashi history. Grade school years (1-6) for myself were simply fine, although quite a few of my classmates did have accidents. This was despite teachers escorting their students twice per day to the bathrooms and student’s freedom to reenter during recesses to use the bathrooms. It was in the Jr. High where things really changed up. There were two grade years (7 & 😎 and a much larger student body. Students moved from class to class and managed their own bathroom breaks between class times. For some reasons I am not aware, a powerful case of pee shyness (enuresis) suddenly kicked in for me. It was at the end of the school day early on in seventh grade when I walked into the boy’s room to take a piss before leaving for home. Right on my heals was a friend from sixth grade who was yapping about something as I stepped up to the long row of bowl urinals against one wall. There were no partitions between the urinals, and that had never been an issue for me before. There I was about to do my business while my friend was at my left side, head in hand and propped up by his arm braced against the tile wall. All the while still yapping about something. His face was about a foot and a few inches above my penis as I attempted to let the flow go. But this time the flow did not come! Not wanting to draw attention to this bizarre happening, I zipped and flushed as if I had peed, and that everything was perfectly normal. My friend never commented on the fact I did not pee. From that moment onward for many years to come, peeing in school or elsewhere in the presence of others was a tricky situation for me. There were many uncomfortable afternoons and some close calls. I mentioned this in another post here, that using a doored stalled should have been an easy mitigation. But for a twelve-year-old boy in a new school who is struggling to not standout for any of the wrong reasons, going into a stall to pee was not a consideration. Fortunately, I did not have to face the dilemma of having to poo during school that I can recall. Except once in grade school when I miraculously managed to hold it in. There is something which I find curious about all of this. From the day I purposely peed in my pants in the presence of my neighborhood friend at six years old, I was very much in tune with omorashi. Of course, then I knew nothing about fetishes. I just knew I loved the feelings and I also had to have been fascinated with other’s accidents because I recall every one of them to this day. That first school year there were four of my classmates I was aware of who had accidents. I’ve often wondered how many others escaped me. In my fantasies I am very jealous of their experiences.
  3. I see this thread periodically coming back near the top of the topics. I have enjoyed reading the contributions but never thought I had anything worthwhile to add. But then a thought came to me about how my Jr. High School bathrooms were a pivotal moment in my omorashi history. Grade school years (1-6) for myself were simply fine, although quite a few of my classmates did have accidents. This was despite teachers escorting their students twice per day to the bathrooms and student’s freedom to reenter during recesses to use the bathrooms. It was in the Jr. High where things really changed up. There were two grade years (7 & 😎 and a much larger student body. Students moved from class to class and managed their own bathroom breaks between class times. For some reasons I am not aware, a powerful case of pee shyness (enuresis) suddenly kicked in for me. It was at the end of the school day early on in seventh grade when I walked into the boy’s room to take a piss before leaving for home. Right on my heals was a friend from sixth grade who was yapping about something as I stepped up to the long row of bowl urinals against one wall. There were no partitions between the urinals, and that had never been an issue for me before. There I was about to do my business while my friend was at my left side, head in hand and propped up by his arm braced against the tile wall. All the while still yapping about something. His face was about a foot and a few inches above my penis as I attempted to let the flow go. But this time the flow did not come! Not wanting to draw attention to this bizarre happening, I zipped and flushed as if I had peed, and that everything was perfectly normal. My friend never commented on the fact I did not pee. From that moment onward for many years to come, peeing in school or elsewhere in the presence of others was a tricky situation for me. There were many uncomfortable afternoons and some close calls. I mentioned this in another post here, that using a doored stalled should have been an easy mitigation. But for a twelve-year-old boy in a new school who is struggling to not standout for any of the wrong reasons, going into a stall to pee was not a consideration. Fortunately, I did not have to face the dilemma of having to poo during school that I can recall. Except once in grade school when I miraculously managed to hold it in. There is something which I find curious about all of this. From the day I purposely peed in my pants in the presence of my neighborhood friend at six years old, I was very much in tune with omorashi. Of course, then I knew nothing about fetishes. I just new I loved the feelings and I also had to have been fascinated with other’s accidents because I recall every one of them to this day. That first school year there were four of my classmates I was aware of who had accidents. I’ve often wondered how many others escaped me. In my fantasies I am very jealous of their experiences.
  4. Many years ago tried it out of curiosity. I thought it tasted absolutely disgusting. Never forgot that taste that reminded me of a well known Texas beer brand which I won’t say in case it gets me in trouble.
  5. If I go to edit my profile I see a field to write something about myself, which I’ve done. But I want people to be able to read it if they choose to. I would also be able to see what others write for themselves. Am I missing something? I don’t seem to be able to make that happen.
  6. If it does come up are you wanting to open up and admit your fetish or treat the conversation as if it was an accident?
  7. Wrote it up elsewhere here. A few times piloting a small airplane. First time a barf bag saved me. 2nd time tried to hold to landing. In that one ended up spurting and wetting my pants before making it to a restroom.
  8. As these occurred many years ago, some parts are hazy and a lost memory. The actual act of letting go though is still quite vivid. For the bedwetting I recall the letting go and immediate sensations very well. I don’t recall the moments of waking up wet. The aftermath is like an out-of-body experience. I can see myself standing beside the bed and Nana and sister side by side. Nana is holding my wet undies in one hand and wet PJ bottoms in the other while I am standing there in just my PJ top receiving the “I am so disappointed in you” talking to. I’m sure my mother would have been told all about it. For the jeans wetting, I recall the letting go and immediate sensations and some moments afterwards. I don’t recall my buddy’s expressions during and after. Probably because I was so focused on myself. Other neighborhood kids were nearby including my younger sister. Soon we became aware the mailman had just delivered. My sister and I were anxiously waiting for the mailman to deliver postcards to our friends from our trip the week before. As we all ran to the mailbox I did so in typical wet pants wide gate. I probably looked like a pissy wet cowboy. My mother who was sitting on our front steps noticed right away only reacted with “Ohhh” followed by name. She behaved like an understanding mother who’s just noticed her son’s wet accident. Something I don’t remember but was reminded of in later years by my mother is that I used to hold on until the potty dancing was evident. So, she must have assumed it was a real accident. Had she known it was deliberate I’m sure things would have been quite different. Something weird about this memory is I recall we all were running to our own mailbox.
  9. This is my favorite subject to read about. Unfortunately, I cannot say I am a member of the school pants wetting club. I wish it were otherwise. The closest I came was wetting my pants on school grounds during summer between third and fourth grade. I am envious of all my classmates who did get to experience the excitement of it. In elementary school which was grades one through six teachers took us as a group twice per day. Once in the morning and again in the afternoon. Despite that and liberal access to restrooms during recess times, there was at least one or two wetting and or messing accidents I knew of during each school year. When we transferred to Jr. Highschool, we were expected to manage our breaks between classes or during the lunch break. I guess some of my classmates didn’t get the hang of it so well in that first year because there were at least four instances I personally knew of.
  10. Can ‘t say these two instances were the catalyst. But they are some of the earliest memories from about six years old and all these years later I still remember their pleasurable sensations. In one case I woke at daylight with a powerful urge to pee. Could be the urge might have woken me. Anyway, I was awake enough to sense when I let loose and the long strong stream that soaked my undies and summer weight PJs. Then I drifted back to sleep only to be woken up by my grandmother. My sister who I was sharing the bed with must have ratted me out. In the second instance I was playing at the woods edge with my best buddy. Again, I had the powerful urge but this time something in me tempted me to do it in my pants. I told my friend I needed to go and that I could just go in my pants. He urged me not to, but I was determined. I was wearing new blue jeans that still kept their deep dark blue color and stiffness. I spread my legs apart as we both watched my crotch darken and the wet stain radiate down the inseams of both legs to my shoes.
  11. I imagine delivery drivers have some issues here. Personally city driving tends to make my bladder fill faster. Great excuse to wear a diaper and I suspect a fair amount of them do or keep a container of some kind in the vehicle.
  12. I’m an avid gardener too and know the same about the benefits, except to the compost. However, haven’t actually started doing this myself. I’m afraid if I do I’ll have a hard time convincing the wife the veggies are still good.
  13. I was not sure if this would be an appropriate post, but there seems to be quite a few posts here with youthful pants wetting scenes. I recall seeing this movie on television in the 1960s when I was a similar age to the characters in the movie. Even back then I could not help noticing the boy in wet pants which is clear at about 28 minutes into the movie. I suspect it is an actual wetting and the director chose to leave it in the movie. The Red Balloon is a cute 1956 French fantasy comedy-drama featurette. It is a thirty-four-minute short, which follows the adventures of a young boy who one day finds a sentient, mute, red balloon. The film follows a young boy who, on his way to school one morning, discovers a large helium-filled red balloon. As he plays with it, he realizes it has a mind and will of its own. It begins to follow him wherever he goes, never straying far from him, and at times floating outside his apartment window, as his mother will not allow it inside. The balloon follows Pascal through the streets of Paris, and they draw a lot of attention and envy from other children as they wander the streets. At one point the balloon enters his classroom, causing an uproar from his classmates. That alerts the principal, who locks Pascal up inside his office. Later, after being set free, Pascal and the balloon encounter a young girl with a blue balloon that also seems to have a mind and will of its own, just like his. One Sunday, the balloon is told to stay home while Pascal and his mother go to church. However, it follows them through the open window and into the church, and they are led out by a scolding beadle. As Pascal and the balloon wander around the neighborhood, a gang of older boys, who are envious of the balloon, steal it while he is inside a bakery, however, he manages to retrieve it. Following a chase through narrow alleys, the boys finally catch up to them. They hold Pascal back as they bring the balloon down with sling shots and stones before one of them destroys it by stomping on it. The film ends as all the other balloons in Paris come to Pascal's aid and take him on a cluster balloon ride over the city.
  14. I worked as a gate/ticket agent many years ago and saw quite a few desperation and or wettings. It was a commuter airline and some of the planes did not have a bathroom. BTW not all we’re of the older generation.
  15. I’m curious if any of you true bedwetters have woken up at the start or midstream in your wetting? Did you try and stop or just relish the moment and go back to sleep.
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