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sj420

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  1. "But Mom," I protested, "if I drink anymore, I'm going to burst." I pressed my hand into the crotch of my faded blue jeans and squeezed my legs together as tightly as I could under the dining room table. "What's wrong?" she asked unsympathetically, pushing the full glass of water towards me. "I thought you really enjoyed this kind of thing. Drink up!" "Why are you doing this to me?" I asked as I gingerly took a sip. I could feel my distended belly aching at addition of more water. It was all going to need to escape somewhere very soon. "You know I'm never going to be able to hold it all the way to school." "If you're not able to control yourself," Mom demurred, "then I guess you'll have to deal with the consequences." "Meaning I'll be known as 'that girl who peed her pants on the school bus' for the rest of my life," I said, forcing down another gulp of water. Despite myself, I was starting to get turned on by this situation. "You didn't have any problem being 'the girl who wet her pants in the backseat of her mom's car' yesterday," she replied. "I scrubbed out the car seat when we got home," I objected. "And, I didn't even ask you to take me home early even though the back of my dress was soaked and everyone was staring at me. What do you want from me to do?" "I want you to stop gulping down bottled water every time I turn my back and going to the toilet before you're literally about to wet your pants," she said with exasperation. A bladder spasm forced me to clench to prevent an accident. At this rate, I wasn't even going to make it to the bus stop without peeing myself, let alone hold on for the entire ride to school. "But Mom, you're LITERALLY pushing me beyond that point right now against my will," I barked. "I just want to go to the toilet and you're making me hold until I pee myself." "Then why were you secretly gulping down that bottle of water in your room?" she asked. "OK, maybe I wanted to hold my pee a little this morning," I admitted. "I certainly wasn't planning to piss myself in front of everyone at school today." "Right," she agreed, "when you're with YOUR friends, you control your intake so you don't have an accident and embarrass yourself, but whenever I take you anywhere, you hold on until there's a puddle on the ground." "Mom, I'm so sorry I embarrassed you at church yesterday," I offered, doubling over to contain my bladder. "I swear it will NEVER happen again." "No, I don't imagine so," she said with satisfaction. "I'm guessing one accident in front of all of your school friends will teach you a lesson they won't ever let you forget. Kids can be SO cruel, and they all have cameras on their phones these days, right?" Her saying that made my heart race with a mix of fear and arousal. "Can I at least pack myself a change of clothes?" I asked weakly, taking another big gulp of water and scissoring my legs under the table. "No," she said firmly. "So you're actually going to make me go to the school office, call you, and wait there for you to bring me dry pants?" I asked incredulously. "Oh, you won't have to bother with all that," she said with cruel satisfaction. "I won't be bringing you any clothes. No need to go through the motions." "Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked. "I'm sure you'll figure something out," she said dismissively. "Hurry up and finish that water, you don't want to miss the bus." I obediently tilted my head back and gulped it all down despite my body's protests. I was shaking with anxiety and excitement about what I knew was coming. These were my most faded jeans. I'd never dared to wet them in public before, but I had done it in the shower when no one was home often enough to know how obvious the resulting wetness would be. I grabbed my backpack and stood up gingerly. I had to continuously shift my weight to ensure my bladder didn't release on the spot. As I made my way toward the front door, I stopped at the coat closet and began to browse for a jacket to bring with me. "Oh, you won't need anything," Mom assured me. "It's warm out there today." "But Mom," I insisted, pee dancing in place, "if you're not going to let me use the bathroom or bring a change of clothes ... " "Oh honey," she interrupted, "tying a jacket around your waist isn't going to fool anyone. It's bad enough you're probably going to ruin those shoes. Don't ruin one of your jackets too by getting pee all over it." With that, she ushered me out the front door and closed it behind me, leaving me anxiously pee dancing in front of the house. I seriously considered just finding a bush to pee in. After all, once I got far enough away from the house, Mom would never know, and I could always tell her that I barely made it to the school toilets in time. Part of me, however, didn't want to waste this opportunity. After all, the whole reason I usually gulped down so much water in the morning was to make myself slightly desperate to pee on the ride to school. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I secretly fantasize about our bus getting delayed and arriving at school so late that I'm forced to go straight to my first period class despite my desperate condition. My teacher, already irritated at my tardiness, denies me a bathroom pass, and I'm left to fidget at my desk until a puddle begins to form under my chair as everyone around me begins to whisper and giggle. In an attempt to "teach me a lesson", my mom had created a situation straight out of my fantasies. My heart was pounding with excitement at the prospect that I might actually have a genuine pee accident before my first class for the day even began. Could I really forgive myself if I chickened out? I found myself waddling awkwardly, but rapidly to the bus stop. My bladder ached, but constant movement eased the pressure a little. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but I told myself it was much less embarrassing than pissing myself on the walk to catch the bus. At least if I wet my pants on the bus, I could blame being trapped in a confined space without a bathroom. I mean, no one would prefer me to pull my pants down and flood on the floor rather than pee myself in that situation. Everyone would believe I had a very humiliating, but very innocent public accident. But what would everyone think of me if I got on the bus to go to school AFTER I had already pissed in my jeans? That absolutely could not happen. I could deal with everyone teasing me the rest of the year for being a pants wetter, but I didn't dare let them suspect I was a freak who was into this as a fetish. Melissa was standing at the stop playing on her phone when I arrived. We were the only two seniors on our route still riding the bus because neither of us had cars of our own or friends to pick us up in the morning. We had become best friends. Truthfully, she was my only real friend, and Melissa was the only person I had ever voluntarily told about my kink. I found myself relieved that she had seen me wet my pants so many times before. She had always been amused at my willingness to totally humiliate myself for a brief thrill, but she had never balked at sticking by my side during the "walk of shame" home after I would pee in my pants at the movies or the mall, even in broad daylight when everyone would be staring at us. As I approached, Melissa looked up from her phone and, noticing my pained walk, immediately asked if I was OK. "No, not really," I admitted, standing next to her but continuing to practically jog in place. "I'm absolutely bursting." "Are you crazy, Anna?" Melissa asked with a sneer. "Do you really want to do this on the bus?" "This wasn't my idea," I assured, clenching my legs together and squatting. "My mom caught me secretly drinking a bottle of water in my room and made me drink four more glasses as punishment. She wouldn't even let me bring a jacket, you know, in case... " "So your mom is actually trying to make you piss in your pants today?" "I think she's hoping if she embarrasses me badly enough, I'll stop doing it intentionally," I explained. Melissa chuckled. "I guess that makes some form of sense," she acknowledged. As the bus pulled up, I gingerly stood upright and followed Melissa up the steps. I felt the first few warm spurts soak into my panties as I did, but didn't dare call attention to myself by checking my jeans for seepage. Melissa motioned for me to take the window seat and I slid in--nervously bouncing and scissoring my legs to contain myself as the bus lurched forward. It was only an 18-minute ride to our school every morning, but with how full my bladder already was, it might as well have been a year. I consoled myself that, whatever happened, at least I had made it onto the bus in dry jeans. "Do you think you're going to make it in time?" she asked with concern. I shook my head as a spasm hit my bladder and I had to press my hands into my crotch and clench tight to hold back the flood. "What are you going to do?" I shrugged, and asked hopefully, "You wouldn't have any spare pants, would you?" Melissa shook her head. "Surely your mom wouldn't make you sit in your own piss all day," she reasoned. "Maybe if you call her after it happens ..." "I asked that this morning as I was choking down the fourth glass of water," I interrupted impatiently. "She told me not to bother." "Wow," Melissa exclaimed. "What did you do to piss her off so bad?" "I peed myself on the way to church yesterday," I blurted out breathlessly. "Seriously?" Melissa asked with a smirk. "Was it obvious?" "Yeah, it was that royal blue dress," I confessed. I could barely focus on the conversation. "She made me sit through the service soaking wet and scrub out the car seat afterwards." "Well, you definitely deserved that," she assured me. "Plus, I'll bet you didn't mind too much." Just then the bus hit a pothole that sent us both airborne for a fraction of a second. As my ass hit the seat again, I could feel a familiar warmth rapidly spread across it. "Oh shit," I whimpered as I tried in vain to contain the flow. I rose to my feet so as not to flood the bench seat I was sharing with Melissa and clung to the high back of the seat in front of us as warm piss uncontrollably streamed down my legs and pooled inside my sneakers. My pulse pounded with panic and arousal. I glanced over to see that Melissa had scooted into the aisle to ensure she stayed dry. This had drawn the attention of the sophomore girls in the row across from us, who were already laughing and taking video with their phones. I sat back down while still peeing and held my backpack in my lap to obscure their view. The flood I had released was now spreading across the floor towards the seats in front of us on the bus. I sat there simultaneously mortified and on the verge of an orgasm as the girls sitting across the aisle us excitedly notified everyone that "Anna just pissed her pants". Melissa found a seat elsewhere next to someone who presumably didn't reek of urine and I spent the next few minutes deflecting mocking questions. Isn't 18 years old a bit late to still not be potty trained? Have I considered diapers? Eventually, they tired of interrogating me and contented themselves replaying and laughing at the video of my accident while I sat quietly with my thoughts. I could feel cooling denim clinging tightly to my legs and piss sloshing around inside my sneakers whenever I would move my feet. I shifted my backpack aside and glanced at the damage to reveal dark-blue piss streaks running the length of my inner legs down to my ankles. The contrast with the faded fabric couldn't be more obvious. The tails of my collared shirt didn't hide the wetness of my jeans at all, but it had managed to get wet as well. When we arrived at school, I sat there as everyone else filed off, laughing and making comments as they passed me. Melissa stayed behind to check on me, asking if I was alright. I softly assured her that I was fine as I stood up and slowly made my way to the front of the bus. The driver glared at me as I reached the door. I muttered, "Sorry, it was an accident," as I passed him. I was aware there were lots of students loitering and talking in front of the building. I avoided eye contact, held my backpack in front of my lap, and walked quickly as I tried to retreat to the building before they noticed me. Unfortunately, the squelching of my waterlogged sneakers and sight of my two-tone jeans did not escape their notice. I could hear the insightful commentary that "SOMEONE had an accident" and lots of laughter as I hurried past. I retreated to a stall in the nearest ladies room, but quickly realized that aside from giving me a place to hide from the gawkers for a little while, there wasn't much I could do. I poured the excess piss out of my shoes into the toilet and wrung out my socks, but that only left me with slightly less squishy socks and sneakers. I dabbed at my jeans with toilet paper, but they were still visibly soaked down both legs by the time the bell rang. I reluctantly left the privacy of the stall and walked to the sink to wash my hands before class. The girls who had originally seen me run into the stall in my pee pants had left the bathroom, so I stoically endured a whole new set of classmates smirking as they realized what I had done. The halls were packed with students and teachers during the passing period as I walked to my locker, but it felt like everyone parted to stare at me and make comments on my accident as I passed. I have to admit the exhibitionist in me was getting turned on again by all the attention as I reached my locker. As I traded my backpack for my first-period notebook, I was left with nothing to hide the piss streaks running the length of my pants legs. Camera phones held by my mocking classmates immortalized the walk from my locker as I shyly squelched to class. When I finally reached my first period classroom, I tried to ignore the snickering as I sat down timidly at my desk. "Eww, she's getting piss all over that chair," Tiffani exclaimed from the desk to my left. "You know, someone's going to have to sit in that desk next period Anna, and it's going to be soaked now." "Well, what am I supposed to do?" I asked weakly. I knew I shouldn't engage her, but I also knew she was right. I didn't want someone else's outfit to get wet because of my accident. "I don't know, maybe try not peeing your pants?" she offered mockingly as everyone around us laughed. I could feel blood rush to my head. "I guess you DO have that notebook..." Slowly, I tore a couple of blank pages out of the back of my notebook and slid the paper under my soaked ass as Tiffani and everyone else fought back laughter. "I hope she has a lot of extra paper in that notebook," one of the guys behind me quipped and everyone burst out laughing. I buried my head in my arms on the desk and wished for the day to be over. TO BE CONTINUED...
  2. CHAPTER 2 "You know, it's funny," Amanda said condescendingly. "I really would have thought wetting your pants at work would be a severely career-limiting move, but it seems to have worked out well for you today." "Maybe you should try it sometime," I deadpanned. "Umm, no," she dismissed with a disgusted chuckle. "I must say, I do admire your commitment. It's what ... seven o'clock? And you haven't even bothered to change your clothes after this afternoon's accident." "Well, my boyfriend couldn't get away from work to bring me any spare clothes," I explained with forced restraint, "and John wanted me to begin working with you on this presentation right away." "I guess that would be an unusual request," Amanda said with a mocking smile. "I mean, can you even imagine taking a call from your adult girlfriend telling you that she peed in her pants and wants you to bring her a change of clothes? Maybe you should begin keeping some spare clothes in your desk. You know ... just in case this happens again." I ran my fingers along the still clammy inseam of my thighs under the conference room table before discretely clamping my legs tightly together again and shifting my weight in my chair. "Maybe I should," I admitted flatly while Amanda snickered. I absolutely despised her, but I was even more pissed off at Mike. He had said he was too busy to leave work early today, but his pestering texts for pics of my soaked slacks and updates as to how everyone was reacting told a different story. I knew my man. Mike was no doubt LOVING the fact that he had caused me to piss in my pants at work today, but he was loving it even more that he was in a position to leave me stranded here and subject to complete humiliation. I hated that there was a part of me that enjoyed his sadistic restrictions to my bathroom visits as much as he did. In fact, I still hadn't broken his instructions that I wasn't allowed to use the toilet all day without his permission. I was only five hours removed from nearly getting fired because I had wet myself a few feet away from an empty bathroom in front of all my co-workers because he told me to hold my pee just a little bit longer when I knew I couldn't. Now I was squirming desperately to contain a full bladder again in the same damp slacks. The toilets were still off limits for me. "I think that should cover it for today," Amanda offered. "I imagine you just want to get home at this point." "Yes, that would be nice," I admitted, more relieved by her suggestion than I let on. "Mike should be here soon to pick me up." I stood up and immediately felt an icy chill envelop my ass. I'd been sitting on a plastic bag all afternoon, so the seat of my slacks was hadn't really dried from my accident. As I walked to my desk to collect my things, I noticed that my heels were still making muted squishing sounds with every step I took. The insoles clearly hadn't dried much either with my feet being in them all day. As I squelched to the elevator, I got Mike's text confirming he was waiting in the car out front for me. The privacy of the ride down to the ground floor allowed me to finally do a proper pee dance unobserved. My aching bladder rejoiced at the fleeting relief before I had to pull myself together and walk to my boyfriend's car with as much composure as a woman with pee stains running the length of her legs and squishy heels can muster. Mike's leather passenger seat felt ice cold against my wet ass as I slid into it. "I'm sorry you had an accident, babe," he said grinning ear to ear as he leaned in and slid his hand along my damp inner thigh. "I thought I'd take you out to dinner to make it up to you. There's a new brewpub everyone's been talking about that I thought we could try." "Did you bring me a change of clothes?" I asked crossly, pushing his hand away. "Sorry, I didn't have time," he said unconvincingly as he drove off, "but you're nearly dry anyway. I'm sure no one at the restaurant will notice." "Just take me home," I said flatly, crossing my legs. "I don't feel like going out tonight." "What's wrong?" he asked. "As I remember it this morning, you were as turned on by the idea of doing a hold as I was." "That was before you made me drink all that water and told me I couldn't use the toilet all day," I replied. "It was also before I almost got fired for wetting my pants." "I'm sorry you got into so much trouble," he offered. "I thought you were into that though. I mean, how many times have you had me pretend to be your boss and call you into my office to scold you for peeing yourself on the job?" A spasm hit my bladder and I pressed my fingers into my cold, damp crotch while leaning forward in my seat. Mike grinned. "Yeah well, that type thing was a lot more fun back in college when I could replace my job in a week," I admitted distractedly as I struggled to get my bladder under control. "I seriously need you to pull the car over." "Why?" Mike asked smugly. "You know why," I snapped. "The restaurant is close," he assured me. "You can make it." "I said I wasn't in the mood to go out," I insisted. "Besides, would I even be allowed to use the toilets there if I hold on that long?" "Well, no," Mike admitted. "So, after the day you know that I've had, your idea of 'making it up to me' is to make me piss in my pants again waiting for a table at a brewpub?" I asked indignantly. "What's wrong with you today?" he asked. "This is normally our thing." "You're not listening to me," I said crossly. "I don't feel like humiliating myself for you anymore today." I felt a small spurt escape into my panties and decided to just give up fighting it. Mike was being a dick anyway, so screw his car seat! I gave a small push and quickly felt my around my fingers get warm and wet. "Actually, you don't need to worry about pulling over," I said contentedly as piss began to audibly drip onto the plastic floor mats. Mike quickly flipped on the interior lights. His eyes fixated on puddle momentarily forming in my lap as the pee gushed out of me faster than my saturated pants could soak it up. I tingled all over as I released all of my pent up urine and my legs finally felt warm again after hours of uncomfortable chill. "Keep your eyes on the road," I warned as the dripping turned into a steady flow. "We're going to get into an accident." "You mean ANOTHER accident," he quipped. I groaned. "You're in good spirits for someone who's going to spend a lot of time scrubbing out his car tonight," I said. "You can take me straight home now, please. You got the show I know you wanted." "You're the one who had the accident, hon," he reminded. "If you can't control your bladder like a big girl, you know you need to clean up after yourself. I'm sure you can ask the hostess at the restaurant for some paper towels or something while we wait for our table." "Like hell I will," I barked. "I told you I didn't feel like going out at all tonight. I'm definitely not going to degrade myself by playing your pathetic, accident-prone girlfriend squelching up to the hostess and begging for some napkins to sop up my pee puddle in the car. I'm not in the mood." "What has gotten into you today?" Mike asked. "I just want to go back to my place and be alone tonight," I repeated. "Well, I had planned for us to go out to dinner," he said crossly. "You tease me all day texting me with the sexiest pee hold and wetting ever, and you won't even share it with me when I finally get to see you. You just leave me with blue balls and a puddle to clean up in my car." "You're a selfish idiot." "Well, I'm not driving you home," Mike said. "If you're going to act like a spoiled brat, you can walk." "Fine," I said flatly. Mike pulled the car over at a random stretch of sidewalk. I flung the door open and stepped out in my waterlogged heels before slamming the door behind me. The brisk evening air chilled my soaked legs. He cracked the passenger window to yell, "Enjoy your pissy walk home!" "Enjoy jerking off alone, asshole," I snapped back, flicking him off as he drove away. A couple walked past me as I watched his tail lights speed away. They avoided eye contact and walked noticeably faster as I glanced in their direction. I took a deep breath and tried to calmly assess the situation. My grey slacks were two-tone and sopping wet again. Every inch of the back was soaked, and there were sizable wet patches in my lap and down my legs on the front. Thanks to this being my second wetting of the day, they were also more aromatic than usual. The acidic smell of pee burned my nostrils with every breath. Even at night, I knew I wasn't going to be able to hide this with my purse well enough to slip into an Uber or cab unnoticed. I didn't really have any friends I felt comfortable with enough to call and admit that I wet my pants in public and needed a ride either. That was normally Mike's role. I fished my phone out of my purse and mapped walking directions to my apartment--willfully ignoring the random creep shouting something about pissy pants at me as he slowly drove past honking his horn. The app was estimating a two hour walk. I bent down and pulled off my left shoe. As I tipped it over to empty the excess piss so I didn't have to feel it sloshing around as I walked, I locked eyes with a brunette in a short dress. She was walking past me with two of her friends. They were clearly headed out for a night at the bars. She gave me a disgusted glare as I finished pouring the last drops of urine out of my heel and slipped it back on my foot. I gave a resigned sigh before taking the first cold, squelchy steps of my long journey. I couldn't really remember what was on this route, but with any luck, I hoped I could find someplace with a women's clothing department on the way. It occurred to me that I hadn't once bought myself an impromptu replacement outfit because of an accident since I'd started dating Mike. Pathetic as it was, the act of strategizing how I was going to get home to minimize my embarrassment again after wetting my pants felt empowering. For the first time in a while, I wasn't allowing myself to be shamefully paraded around because I knew the public humiliation would please my man.
  3. It's been a while since I've written anything. I thought I'd put the first part of something I've been working on out here... CHAPTER 1 My heart sank as I hung up the phone. How could I have let Mike talk me into something so stupid? I was going to get fired for sure. As I stood up, the plastic grocery bag that had been sitting on to protect my chair from water damage crinkled conspicuously. I instinctively grabbed my purse from my desk and clutched it in front of my crotch. Yeah Melissa, that's going to work. He'll never notice that your slacks are soaked all the way down the inseam if you hide an eight-inch section of your lap behind your purse. Why did I have to wear grey slacks? Despite my efforts to drain them in the ladies room after the incident, my heels still squished with every step of the long walk across the office. Amanda grinned and whispered something to Megan as I walked by. They both snickered. Catty bitches! They'd probably be happy to see me get fired for this. I was well aware that everyone was consciously trying not to stare as I slowly squelched my way to our boss' office, but I was too preoccupied with my impending unemployment to be mortified or aroused at the humiliation of walking across our office's open floor plan in such a state. Besides, they had all seen my pissy slacks not 40 minutes earlier--this was just an encore performance. I took a deep breath and tried to convince myself it would be alright. I had some money saved up, and I knew that Mike would be able to help me cover my bills--especially since I wouldn't be in this situation at all if he hadn't talked me into holding my pee for him at work today. I mean, I fucking love that I found a guy who gets as turned on by wetting and public humiliation as much as I am, but this is getting to be ridiculous! I piss in my pants on every date with him. I piss in my pants every time I stay over at his apartment. I piss in my pants every time we run errands together. I didn't even complain when he refused to pull over for me on the drive to his parent's house, and I had walk into Thanksgiving dinner with his family in pee-soaked blue jeans. When will it ever be enough for him? I sheepishly entered my boss's office, avoiding eye contact while closing the door behind me. My heart pounded in my chest. "Hello Melissa," John said sternly. He didn't have an HR representative in the office with him. I took that as a positive sign. "I'd ask you to sit down, but..." "I understand," I replied quietly. I could feel my face flush. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to get turned on. I felt like I was in principal's office trying to explain why I'd left a piss puddle under my desk rather than raising my hand and asking the teacher for a bathroom pass. He started, "This is a very unusual situation to have to address with one of our employees." "Can I just start by saying that I am SO sorry that this happened," I blurted out. "I've cleaned up the puddle in the hallway, and I've been sitting on a plastic bag to protect my chair from any ... damage." "I appreciate that," John acknowledged, "but you have to know this is totally unprofessional." "I do," I admitted. "I don't have any meetings scheduled with clients today, so my accident won't reflect badly on the firm. I promise I'll just sit at my desk and work like it never happened." "Obviously, you're going to need to go home and change," he offered. "No," I assured him, hoping that my willingness to degrade myself by siting in smelly, damp slacks all afternoon could be turned into an asset. "I'll call my boyfriend to see if he can get way from work to bring me a change of clothes. If he can't, I'll stay here and deal with it. This is my fault." "I appreciate that attitude," he admitted, his voice softening. "But this is totally unacceptable and, of course, this isn't the first such incident." My heart sank. I stood there speechless as my mind raced searching my memory for what he might be referencing. Mike and I had played some of our wetting games in my work outfits before, but I had always been exceedingly cautious before today. I had emptied my bladder for Mike on a few lunch dates while wearing black pencil skirts and returned to the office afterwards without changing clothes. Had someone actually noticed that? Undoubtedly noticing my bewilderment, John continued, "Melissa, your efforts to protect your chair today notwithstanding, the cleaning crew has reported wetness and the unmistakable smell of urine coming from it on several occasions." "Yes, well," I started sullenly, "I didn't think anyone had noticed, but I have had a few other accidents before this one. I'm sorry. I'll be more responsible in the future." "Unfortunately, that's not all," John said. "Our IT department has told me about some pictures and videos you've sent to your boyfriend on work email. They're of a nature that leads me to believe these aren't genuine ... well, accidents." I'd spent the past half hour in piss-drenched slacks being snickered at by bitchy women I hated, but ironically, this was the first moment I was so deeply humiliated that I wanted to leave the office and never come back. How could I have been so stupid? What must he think of me? "Should I go clean out my desk now?" I asked while fighting back tears. "Let's put a pin in that kind of talk for now," John said dismissively. "You're an excellent worker Melissa, and what you do when you leave this office is none of my business, but this behavior can't continue." "I understand," I affirmed meekly. "John, I swear to you, if you give me another chance..." "I guess the question is, how badly do you want that chance?" he asked. "Are you willing to do something big for me in order to prove you deserve it?" I stared at him blankly. Was this going where I thought it was? John was married and had never made a pass at me before. He wasn't unattractive, but I wasn't about to give him a blow job or anything like that to keep this job. "How familiar are you with Amanda's work trying to land the WidgetComp account?" he asked. "Not very," I answered. I left out that she was a bitch and I despised her, but I was relived that the conversation was not headed in a perverted direction. "I know it would be great business for us to win." "It would be game changing for us," John emphasized. "I know our numbers are down, and WidgetComp is a whale," I acknowledged. "I'd be happy to help Amanda prepare her sales pitch if that is what you are asking." "Not quite," John said. He paused the choose his words before continuing, "What I'm about to say is completely off the record, and if it leaves this room I will deny it." "OK," I said, again waiting with dread for the other shoe to drop. "Amanda is giving a big presentation to Sam Brothers and his team over at WidgetComp next week," he said. "Sam is a make or break decision maker for us in this deal and, well ... there are rumors that he shares your ... um, interests." For the first time, John's eyes fixated directly on the piss streaks running down my legs, as if I needed the cue as to which "interests" he was referencing. "John, you know I have a boyfriend," I scolded. "I will not whore myself out for this company!" "That's not what I'm suggesting at all," John insisted. "You don't need to have a relationship of any kind with this man. I'm merely suggesting that IF you happen to drink some extra water on the drive over and not make a trip to the bathroom before the presentation..." "I might completely humiliate myself in front of our team and the client," I interjected crossly. "That type of risk clearly hasn't stopped you before," he quipped. "John, this was not intentional," I said motioning to my wet pants. "Yes, I admit that I generally get a thrill out of wetting my pants, but the girls out there are merciless about things like this. Today has been mortifying for me." "I can imagine," John admitted. "So you can also imagine what my drive back to the office with Amanda will be like after I piss in my pants in front of our biggest sales prospect," I said. "How would I ever show my face here again after something like that?" Despite myself, as I imagined the scenario, I was beginning to get aroused. Damn this fetish! "I don't know," John deadpanned. "I presume you're planning to show your face here tomorrow if I decide to give you a second chance, right?" "Yes," I admitted quietly. "And you said the girls are being pretty vicious out there to you today?" "They're being even worse than my classmates back in school used to be to me after an accident," I shared. "And I didn't think that was possible before today." "Yet you'd rather sit in your own piss and be mocked for the next three hours than accept my offer to go home for the afternoon..." "Because I desperately want to keep my job," I interrupted. "Then prove to me you're a team player here," John said curtly. "I'm not asking you to do anything to your reputation that you haven't already done to yourself voluntarily." "So if I refuse to do this, I'm fired?" "How much value do you think I should place on an employee who indulges her sexual desires so inappropriately in the office, but won't use them to play ball to win the biggest prospect we've ever seen?" "What if I do it and the plan doesn't work?" I asked flatly. "He could enjoy the show and still not sign a deal with us." "Yeah, he could," John acknowledged, "but at least we'd have tried. Plus, you'd have proven yourself as someone worth keeping despite having had a few ..." "Accidents?" I finished with a smirk. "OK, I'll do it." "Great," John said. "Thank you, Melissa." "Hey, since I'm doing this for you," I interjected, "could I maybe take you up on that offer to go home early today?" "Actually, it might be better if you just call your boyfriend like you had originally planned," John said. "The presentation to WigetComp is in just two days and you'll need to work with Amanda to get up to speed this afternoon. I imagine you'll have to stay late tonight if that's alright." "Of course," I said absently, "I just really hope my boyfriend comes through for me with that change of pants."
  4. I was struggling to get it to upload properly in this chain, so I submitted it separately:
  5. Version 1.0.0

    822 downloads

    A German girl from MyDirtyHobby wets her jeans in a parking garage for fun and appears to get caught in the act.
    Free
  6. ParkingGarageWetting View File A German girl from MyDirtyHobby wets her jeans in a parking garage for fun and appears to get caught in the act. Submitter sj420 Submitted 09/15/2019 Category Public wetting Clothing Jeans
  7. Could someone please translate this one? https://vk.com/video-179798484_456239365
  8. A few new ones in case anyone missed them: https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/74889/21131883/Embarrassing+Public+Pants+Pissing https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/95015/21127007/Let+it+Flow+%281080p+mp4%29 https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/8256/21053395/AUDIO+ONLY+Male+Desperation+Pissing+Yourself+on+Airplane+with+girls
  9. Could someone translate/subtitle this one please: https://vk.com/videos-165109014?z=video-165109014_456239278%2Fclub165109014%2Fpl_-165109014_-2
  10. Yeah. For me, I had the WAM fetish as far back as I can remember. My pee fetish started when I held my pee to keep the conversation going with a girl I liked back in elementary school. When I finally left to use the bathroom, it was too late. I wet my pants and had to spend the rest of the school day in them with everyone teasing me, especially the girl I was talking to. I was oddly excited by the whole thing and my fetish budded from there.
  11. So, I didn’t quite make it through the haunted house. Now I’m sitting in a Chilli’s piss sloshing around in my left shoe.
  12. Mmm, that's kind of what I'm expecting too. How did the aftermath go?
  13. I'm planning on going to a haunted house later this evening (~5 hours from now). I was thinking about hydrating really well before I go and seeing what happens. Has anyone else tried this before?
  14. I like wetlook/wet clothes and gunge as well. I guess that pairs pretty naturally with a pee fetish. ;)
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