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noonesanon

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  1. Hi. I could have sworn there was a post on this forum 2 days ago that I had started to read but didn’t finish. I think it had something like “total mortification” in the title. And the story started off about a business that was next door to a new mother and daughter that moved in. The person witnessed the accident(?) (I didn’t get to that part) through the front window of his shop. Was that a post here or am I imagining things? If it was, who posted it and why was it deleted? Thanks.
  2. The core of this story is from toiletstool, but I made some liberal changes. Vacation Accident I just found this site and thought I would contribute a story. My name is Jessica and this happened many years ago when I was 16 years old. Even so it is burned into my memory like it was only an hour ago. I was a normal teenage girl back then, about to start my junior year of high school. That summer my family took a vacation down to Disney World and we drove the whole way from Indiana to Florida in our minivan. Me, my 13 year old sister Katie, and my mom and dad. It took two days to drive it. On the second day we were on the interstate and I started to really need to go to the bathroom. I had peed that morning at the hotel before breakfast but nothing else since then. Dad wanted to drive straight through to the hotel in Orlando. At first I didn't say anything and just held it in and kept reading my book in the back seat where I was sitting alone with my sister in the middle row watching a movie and my parents up front. The longer I held it the stronger the urge kept getting and soon I was quite desperate to pee. I finally spoke up and asked when we would be stopping for lunch. Mom responded that we weren't stopping, she had sandwiches and drinks in the cooler, so we could keep driving. I just kept holding it, not wanting to admit I needed the bathroom yet, since we weren't going to be stopping for lunch. Instead, I ate a sandwich and drank an iced tea that mom passed back to us girls and kept reading my book, now sitting on my heel to help hold it. After a while even this started to not be enough help and I knew I was getting close to absolutely needing a toilet. I finally asked if we could stop at a gas station or rest area. Dad wanted to keep going but mom finally said that we could all use a little break. But there was nowhere to stop on that stretch of road for another 50 miles or so. I almost panicked when I heard how far it would be, not sure I could make it that far. But I kept my mouth shut and crossed my legs tighter and pushed my fingers into my crotch while trying to cover it with my book. After another half hour I felt like my eyes were watering I had to pee so badly. I was on the verge of losing it in the back seat. I asked how much further. My dad said only a few minutes to the next exit with a gas station. I relaxed momentarily at that news and immediately regretted it as a squirt of pee escaped into my panties but not enough to show on the outside of my tan mid-thigh shorts (I checked). I could tell that I was squirming too much and it was going to be noticeable very soon, so I tried to discretely curl my leg up so I could sit on my heel again. I pressed my heel into my crotch as hard as I could but felt that my control was going to slip away soon. After a minute or so I was so desperate that I got myself into an almost panicked state and cared more about not wetting my pants than everyone knowing that I had to pee. I was now bouncing up and down more aggressively on my foot thinking repeatedly, “Please don’t let me pee my pants, please don’t let me pee pants...” I was almost frantic and couldn’t think clearly when I felt a hot jet of pee spurt out and hit my panties. I could feel the pressure of the stream through my pants on the heel of my foot. I pushed my heel harder into my crotch and then I felt a second jet of pee. Now I was very aware of the wet underwear pressing against my vagina. I froze, staring at the back of the seat in front of me and I felt like my whole body was blushing. My face was burning with embarrassment. It felt like everyone in the car must know what I had just done and what might be about to happen. I didn’t dare look over to see if my sister was paying any attention to me. I couldn’t believe that I was starting to pee in my pants at my age. I changed positions again and put my feet back on the floor and held my crotch tightly while leaning forward so that it was less noticeable. I clamped back down and tried to breathe and act normal but I knew I only had a few minutes left. The exit finally arrived and we pulled off the interstate and into the parking lot of the gas station. I had unbuckled myself and moved to the side door before we even came to a complete stop. My sister yelled because she wanted out first but I shoved her aside with my elbow, making mom and dad yell at us to cool it, and then as soon as the van stopped I pulled on the sliding side door. It took some force to pull it open and when I did I lost another spurt of pee but I had no time to check for damage. I hopped out and ran inside the gas station to the back and found the bathroom but it was locked. I knocked on the door, dancing frantically in front of it with my legs crossed and bouncing on my feet. I lost control for a second again and this time I felt a trickle of pee run out of the right leg of my shorts and down my leg. I quickly tried to wipe it away. I could see that there was now a softball-sized wet spot below the zipper of my shorts. The attendant said, "You need a key!" I cursed and turned around and half-ran, half-hobbled back to the desk and grabbed the out-held key, turned, and sprinted back to the bathroom, another leak of pee escaping as I went. I nearly slammed into the door and then fumbled with the key for a second trying to get the key into the keyhole while feeling my bladder muscles quiver and then a longer two second spurt followed by more little streams down my legs. My shorts were definitely wet now and it would be obvious to anyone that I was starting to have an accident. I finally got the key in, turned the handle, opened the door, jumped inside, turned to lock the door... and immediately felt with my entire being that I was too late. One second I was fighting the good fight and the next second I knew completely that I was a millisecond from having an accident. I didn't even have time to back away from the door. My right hand was still on the lock button when my bladder spasmed and I began flooding my panties and shorts with long, strong jets of pee, one after the other. Even though it was too late, I was still crossing my legs and grabbing my crotch. I could feel my panties and shorts getting soaked. The pee was just forcing its way around my hand and dripping through my fingers. I was having an accident like a little kid. The pee was forming rivers down my legs and onto the tile below me, splashing my feet and sandals. I just stood in a daze as it happened, almost in slow motion, hearing only the hissing sound of it hitting against my clothes and the splattering as it fell onto the tiles. The only thing going through my head was, “I can’t be peeing my pants,” and wondering how I could possibly face my family. Then it was all over. It was finished. I slowly came out of my daze to fully realize what had happened. I looked down and saw the extent of the wetness on my shorts. I started to cry silently. I was 16 years old and in high school, this shouldn't happen! There was a knock at the door and then my mother's voice, "Jessica, are you alright? Your sister needs to go, too." I didn't know what to do at first. Another knock. "Jessica?" I found my voice and croaked a response, "Mom?" "Jess? Is that you?" "Yes, mom." "Are you ok, sweety?" She asked softer, now right up by the crack of the door. I hit the unlock button on the door and said, "No, mom." She started to ask, "Do you feel well?" as I cracked the door an inch so we could only see each others' eyes clearly. She saw I had tears on my cheek. She stopped and asked, "Jess, did you..." I shook my head a little and said, "I wet my pants." And that set me crying again. With that mom pushed the door just open enough to squeeze inside and pushed it shut behind her before my little sister could see. She pounded on the door wanting to know what was going on anyway. Mom then saw my full condition from the front and the puddle on the floor. "Oh dear, I'm sorry." I was crying again and she took me and hugged me and told me it would be ok and we had clean clothes in the van. I got the crying under control and she asked if I needed help. I just nodded. She said, “Ok, give me your wet clothes and I’ll rinse them in the sink.” I unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts and lowered them down. I looked down in horror at the dark yellow stain on the front of my white cotton panties. She helped me step out of the shorts and my wet sandals as well. I slowly pulled down my panties and stepped out of them as my mom took them to rinse in the sink. I was very aware I was standing exposed from the waist down in front of my mother for the first time in many years. I thought I noticed an odd look on her face for a fleeting second for what I imagined was her noticing that I was completely shaved. I felt self conscious about it and always had a little guilt and a little worry in the back of my head every time I shaved. I had only started doing it in the middle of the school year last year because I was curious but since I got a little thrill out of it, feeling like I had this intimate secret, I continued to do it. Now I was totally exposed, standing bottomless in front of my mother and feeling overwhelmed by the emotions of the situation. I kept my legs tightly together so that my mom could only see my tiny slit in front. After a slight pause, she said, "Why don't you start cleaning up and I'll get you some new clothes?" I nodded. She brought my wet panties and shorts over to the sink to begin rinsing them with with soap and water while I went into a stall and began wiping my privates and legs with large amounts of toilet paper. I realized that what I really needed was wet paper towels to wipe with so that I wouldn’t be sitting in the car smelling like pee and having Katie realize that her big sister had wet her pants, so I had to walk over to the sink bottomless. I cringed as I saw my panties, yellowed with pee, in a ball next to the sink while my mom rinsed my shorts. I did feel funny wiping between my legs with my mom using the sink right next to me and being able to see me in the mirror but I needed to use the sink to wet the paper towels. My little sister still pounded on the door. Mom finished rinsing my clothes and then said she would be back with a change of clothes and snuck out the door, again keeping my sister out. After I was done wiping, I sat on the toilet, naked from the waist down, still sniffling a little. My mind kept replaying the first shocking spurt in the car, the spurts on the way to the bathroom, and the feeling of the uncontrollable long jets of pee when I completely started wetting my pants. About five minutes later my mom knocked on the door and came back inside with a new pair of shorts and panties. She told me my sister was able to use the other bathroom. I asked what she told dad. She said she told him that I was having "girl problems". I smiled and thanked her. She said no problem but to speak up next time I was in danger of having an accident. I was so embarrassed to hear that and I think she knew how it sounded as soon as it left her mouth. I was way, way too old to have an accident and, while standing half naked in front of her, she had to tell me that, in the future, I need to speak up so that I don’t wet my pants again. She had my clean clothes in a plastic bag and first handed me the panties which I tried to slip on. They were far too tight and I realized they were my sister’s panties. I couldn’t even get them up all the way up. My mom apologized for the mix up and said to give her back the panties and just put on the shorts. I hesitated at the thought of wearing shorts without underwear but it would have been worse if my mom had to make a second trip out to the car, making this an even bigger ordeal. Of course the cut-off jean shorts that she brought had wide leg openings, so I still felt exposed even after putting them on. We went over to the sink and she wrung out my rinsed clothes that were still sitting in there. I could still see the yellow stain in the crotch of the panties and knew that if anyone saw them, they would know what happened. She put them in the plastic bag and we walked out. On the way back to the car, my face burned as we passed the attendant who probably knew the real story since I was so obviously desperate in front of him and he may have already seen a wet spot on my pants after he handed me the key and I was running back to the bathroom. Now I was walking past him and my mother was carrying a bag with the evidence of my accident after she had walked to the bathroom, then back to the car, then back to the bathroom again. He definitely knew that a high school girl had just peed her pants at his gas station. My sister was waiting. "Why are you in new clothes? Did you pee your pants?" I told her no and to shut up. She kept pressing. Mom told her to stop bothering me and that it was a girl thing she'd understand when she was a little older. We continued on our way. I was uncomfortable the rest of the ride down, just consumed with the thought that I had peed my pants and that the evidence was right behind us in the car in a plastic bag. I felt like my sister must know the truth and felt awkward every time I talked to her. And every time I moved my legs, I was conscious of the fact that I might be exposing myself because of those wide leg openings in my shorts. I couldn’t help thinking about what Katie would think of me if she got a glance up my shorts when she probably already had hair down there herself. Even though my dad originally wanted to get to Orlando in one shot on the second day, a few hours later my mom suggested we stop at the next rest stop. Maybe the others in the car didn’t know what drove that request, but I was embarrassed to think that my mom needed to make that suggestion because there was a possibility that one of her teenage girls might not speak up in time and wind up peeing their pants. When we got to the rest stop, I snuck a pair of panties out of the suitcase and put them on in the bathroom. Since she was so nosy, my sister did search around in the back of the car until she found the bag with my peed-in clothes. As we headed back to the car, out of the earshot of our parents, she again asked me, “Did you pee your pants before? I saw your panties with a pee stain in them.” I was flustered but emphatically said, “No!” But I could hear in my own voice the lack of confidence and the defensiveness. She must have too because she kept pestering me. She just kept insisting, “But I saw that your panties had pee stains in them. You did, didn’t you?” I just kept mumbling ‘no’s to her attempts to get me to admit it while avoiding eye contact and then stopped responding to her completely as I got in the car. We pulled out of the rest area as I stared out of the window miserably. Of course, Katie couldn’t let it go. She asked, “Mom, Jessica peed her pants, didn’t she? I know she did.” My mom sternly tried to put an end to it by saying, “No, I told you it was a girl thing and you will understand when you are older. Now stop asking.” Katie was having none of it. “I know what a period is. I saw her underwear in the bag and they had pee stains. Just pee. I know she did.” My mom didn’t have an immediate comeback answer and was silent for a damning moment. My dad looked over to my mom with a look that told me he realized it was true. My sister asked again and my mom was forced to admit the truth. I cringed as she said, “Yes, Jessica wet her pants. It can happen to anyone, even older girls and big sisters. Now leave it alone and stop asking about it.” That got my sister to stop talking about it but she did keep bringing it up every once in a while during the rest of the trip. Questions like, “But how could you pee your pants when you’re in high school?” and, “You couldn’t hold it any longer?” and “If you had to go so bad why didn’t you tell dad to pull over sooner?” Types of questions that were extremely embarrassing but revealing that she was intrigued with the idea of a ‘grown up’ wetting their pants rather than trying to embarrass me further. I tried to have a fun vacation anyway, but the memory of my massive accident still haunted me. Even after we got back, I felt a bit of discomfort every time someone asked how our vacation was because that incident overshadowed everything else. It seemed fake when I had to pretend what a good time I had. It did bring me closer to my mom in a strange way though.
  3. Someone mentioned that the other vlogger (Mia) might post her version on her own channel. She did. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IY4CE5Gh4nw
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