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FestiveMint

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  1. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to Blackheart in Black Tights and Fetish Nights   
    Hey. Hello.

    It’s been awhile, though of course I’m sure like many of you life happens and then you catch up and sometimes inspiration hits. This is one of those moments. It’s also practice, because I’m doing all sorts of writing these days, and extra opportunities to flex those skills is always good use of time.

    Tonight, I’m going to regale you with a tale of my partner C. We’ve been dating for a bit over a year now, and as luck would have it, C’s a kinky person herself. In fact, since asking her to participate in my kink, she’s found she really enjoys it herself. This story is about the time she first wet herself in public for me. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and I hope I’ve able to evoke just a little of my memory for you. To begin with, let’s start with some basics. C is gorgeous. I’ll ask to see if there’s a picture to offer, but because we’re on a fetish site and I want to give you some an idea, picture this:

    Bold features like strokes on a canvas line her face. She’s got that kind of androgyny that displays the best of both worlds.

    Curly brown hair, down in waves, wild and soft, with a buzz along the side, framing a face of intensity and curiosity and vivacity. I know we’re all here for the physical, but I want you to understand that it’s not just the body that’s beautiful. It’s her mind, quick as a whip and with you every step of the way. It’s her wit, sharp and humorous. It’s her soul, full of fire and sunlight – the kind that warms your face on cold winter nights.

    She’s as tall as me, and I have a pretty good view at concerts. A little underweight (As she says), though she’s been doing pretty good about it, and has a butt that embodies the ancient Greek’s “callipygian”.

    And legs. Legs for days.

    Of course, I’m biased. I doubt you’ll care.

    Tonight, those legs were clad in tights, with a slim black dress that showed everything and nothing. We’d started with a night on the town, walking, talking. C and I have a really good rapport. We’d talk about anything and everything – philosophy to work, art to problems and so on. Which, honestly, is important. Sex is great. Chemistry is nice. But I need that intellectual connection.

    Of course, it doesn’t hurt when she suddenly turns against me in the club, pressing her ass against me, moving oh… so… slowly down. Her hair smells like her, the way only she could. It’s intoxicating, and I feel my heart – and other things – pulse in response.

    It’s interesting, getting past 30. Life simultaneously speeds up and slows down. You start out with a pretty acrimonious relationship with those hormones. The goal is all you see. Then you make enough bad decisions, or maybe get lucky. That raging cocktail slows down, your brain checks in fully. You know the sex is there, like the delicious moment in the story when things click into place. But you realize that it means more, getting there.

    So we stayed out, and built a narrative of heat in fingers across skin, a hand on the hips. She’d kiss me, and I’d run a hand through her hair, fingers grasping glacially at the base of her neck – her purr, in response.

    The kicker, of course… Is that she hadn’t peed all night. I know, gauche of me to drop that on you in the middle, but I figure a little surprise never hurt anyone, and some of my audience may want to cut to the chase. At the start, over cocktails and thai food, I’d asked if she’d hold it for me until she couldn’t. She gave me a little smile, a little nod, and away we went.

    So I got to watch, moment to moment, place to place, as she got more and more desperate. As her leg bounced while we waited for drinks at the bar. The way she groaned when I put my hand over her stomach on the dance floor. As she stuck her butt out slightly before we slid into the seat. It was intoxicating, imagining her filling up, more and more.

    Things came to a head toward the end of the night. We were at a club, enjoying the music, though she was getting increasingly desperate, more and more distracted. She whispered how bad she had to go, how she could barely hold it. All around us in the dark and the lights and the sound waves were people, gyrating, drinking. Carousing, in the time-honored tradition we so love. We nursed our water, waiting for the sweat to cool us a little between rounds of dancing.

    And she smiled – an idea in her head, though its resolution played out far less contained and far more amazing than I could’ve imagined.

    She sidled up next to me in the booth, and held my hand for a moment. After some deliberation, she purred into my ear: “Why don’t I let a little go here, then we get out of here, and finish around the corner?” I, of course, agreed, and put my hand around her shoulder, the picture of intimacy.

    Then a little lower. Then a little under, as she lifted herself off for a second. And I felt the heat of her vulva, barely contained through her tights. It felt like the temperature shot through like electricity into me. It was a new experience for her, so it took some time. Each moment felt like time had stopped, the music beating in the background.

    Her thighs tensed, and relaxed. She breathed in, slow, steady. And then, her breath caught, eyes closed. And I felt it.

    A moment’s warmth. Then wetness. She groaned. And then more, a spurt, like a firehose, pee soaking those black tights, outlining the feeling of her vulva. She tensed, holding back with all her might.

    But then she spurted again. In a quiet panic, she whispered, “I can’t stop!”

    It took only a few seconds to figure out the solution. Neither of us wanted to be caught. And neither of us wanted to make anyone’s day difficult. But a concrete dance floor, with stale beer and sugary drinks already decorating the floor? No one would know the difference.

    “Follow me, it’s dark on the dance floor, and no one will notice.”

    She held on, barely, not really, but still through a herculean effort, as we slid from the table. In the dim light, I could see a sparkle drip against her legs. Fortunately, I was the only one. Once we hit the throng through, it was all over. I heard her gasp, barely, over the music, and she suddenly grabbed by hand, pulling me deep into the mob.

    Then we were there, in the press, surrounded. By ourselves. She drew me against her, led my hand down to her, where a flood was already breaking loose. Pee flooded down her tightly wound legs. Every few seconds, a light would flash on her as droplets fell off those legs. I felt as she released herself against me, soaking those black tights, wetting those black boots. A waterfall through my hands.

    Eventually, it slowed, but didn’t stop for half again another minute, a slow trickle snaking through my fingers and down her tights. Still, she sighed against me as if she’d had a massage. As if she’d came. It was amazing, erotic, intimate. And as she finished, she took me fingers, and licked them, tasting herself.

    What came after was a blur of naked bodies and guttural sounds, which I could, but will not divulge here. I’m sure your imagination can fill in the blanks. Thank you, for taking the time to go on this journey with me, and I hope to share more stories (and maybe media) with you soon.

  2. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to rachelkirwan in Peeing Myself in the Living Room [Pics[   
    Well, some days a girl wants to orchestrate an elaborate desperation session followed by an accident in special clothing that makes her feel innocent, exposed and enhances the feel of the wetting experience. Sometimes a girl wants to carefully plan a very subtle public accident or near accident, carefully orchestrating something discreet but incredibly sexy. Sometimes a girl wants to slip on a soft pair of cotton panties under a short but not too short skirt, sit in the park reading a great book and slowly but imperceptibly soak her panties and water the grass under her bottom.
     
    And then there was yesterday, when all I wanted to do was to stand in the middle of my living room in nothing but the panties I wore all day at work, and empty a very full bladder. I had a long and somewhat stressful day at work, and this is exactly what I did when I got home. I had the apartment to myself, as my husband was still out at work (not that I’ve not wet in front of him). The Skytrain ride home was hot and sticky (it’s been very warm here these past few days), and my bladder was all but full by the time I got home.
     
    The second I got through my door, I pulled off the knee-length red floral summer dress I’d been wearing all day, unfastened my bra, kicked off my flats and tiny socks, and went into my closet in nothing but my red cotton panties and a smile. I grabbed a Goodnites bedpad, which are always handy. I then cranked some lovely classical music, so that is suffused the whole apartment, filling it with timpani and clarinets. I spread the pad out in the middle of the living room floor and stood there, relishing the anticipation of what I was about to do.
     
    And then, my legs slightly apart, I released. In the warmth of the day, my pee was molten against the skin of my inner thighs but already felt cool by the time it reached my feet to puddle sexily around them. My bladder was pretty full at this point and I tried to drag out my wetting as long as possible by minimizing the flow, something I did poorly. As I released, which took a little over a minute, I could feel my sex throbbing and getting even warmer.
     
    After my bladder was empty, I stood for a little while, revelling in the feeling of my gradually cooling panties against my sex, and the soothing drip, drip, dripping of my sodden panties interspersed amongst the sounds of the music.
     
    After I had stopped dripping, I gave my butt a little wiggle to shake off any remaining droplets (a good girl doesn’t drip on the carpet), and slowly slid my panties down my slick and sticky legs. I left them there and jumped into the shower where I cleaned myself off and fingered myself to a delightfully wet orgasm.
     
    Once I was all dried off, I headed back into the living room to clean up and snap some pictures of the aftermath. The music still filled the apartment. I love how you can see the print of my feet in the yellow puddle I made. I made sure to artfully drape my panties for you viewing pleasure.
     
    Hot weather apparently makes me want to do lots of pee play.
     
    Rach
  3. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to ErinonWheels in How my disability caused my fetish.   
    Hi all... So, I was born with Cerebral Palsy. I use a wheelchair all the time now. I used to walk with a walker or crutches when I was younger but those days are past. So my title is misleading, but not really. With my disability, even when I walked, going to the toilet was an event. It wasn't two minutes in and out. It took time. Combine that with the "Is there an accessible bathroom here?" and other things most people don't think about, it was something that i focused on, a lot, even before it became kink. So in this thread I will tell stories from my early years that brought me here.

    II know you guys will have questions, and that's cool. But in the interest of saving everyone time I'm going to cover the basics.. First a few ground rules: 1. No pity. I don't want it. 2. No telling me I'm brave or inspiring. I'm not.  3. I grew up in the 80s and 90s. I have long since tired of the ever-changing politically correct language in the disability community. In polite company I say handicapped, among friends I say words like crippled. I joke about my own disability. If that bothers you, this thread may be a bumpy ride. If you try to speech police me it will get bumpier.

    Now a quick list of answers to questions you didn't ask but will.

    Yes, I have worn diapers for reasons associated with my disability. Never for kink though because in my mind it is associated with my disability. Hospital, road trips where bathrooms weren't guaranteed, and post-surgery usually.
    Yes I used my disability to get away with wetting, though more so after it became kink than before. When I was younger there was guilt about someone else having to clean up a mess that I caused on purpose.
    As to whether my parents knew I did it on purpose:  Yes sometimes, but it was usually with permission or at their request for convenience reasons.
    No, my parents never really punished me for accidents. At most frustration if it was preventable and my fault.
    My friends and peers mostly just thought it was a disability thing, and didn't care too much. Some of those who caught on to the fact that I was "allowed" to have accidents with little consequence expressed jealousy.
    Last but not least on the obvious questions: Yes I can have sex, everything works, I'm not paralyzed. Yes sometimes sex involves pee play. No I will not be telling those stories in public. Sorry.

    General stuff about me, I'm in my early 30s, I have an older sister who will be involved in my stories but the name I use will be fake, because I do not have her permission to write about her here. No, she's not into the kink. Yes, she knows I am. For the purposes of this topic her name is Valerie, and I am your host Erin. That is, in fact, my real name. I was control potty trained at two but I have in fact never gone an entire year in my life without a legitimate accident. As a teen i randomly became an accidental bed wetter again for a few years.

    So, to properly understand some of the stories I will tell in this thread you need to know that I am, and have always been, really small. I'm 4'8. You also need to understand that even when I could walk, my balance wasn't great. I fall. Never been seriously injured but I have sat in a puddle of my own pee whole looking at the toilet before. More than once. I move slow, I can't use a regular stall, I can't squat to pee outside, and my bladder is as small as the rest of me.
    That's the overly-long tour. Story in my next post.
  4. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to CopperLola in Wetting my jeans outside (+rewetting!)   
    Hi!
    Doing holds & intentional wetting is actually very hard, thanks to big family of mine (me + 7 people). We are currently enjoying vacation on our summer cottage, which makes things even more complicated. There is ABSOLUTELY no possibilities for this kind of stuff. BUT. Today I was lucky. Everybody except me went to see our aunt (50+ kilometres) & shopping. I stayed at our cottage because I had "stomach ache". My stomach was really hurting a bit at that point, but only for natural reasons (you might guess...). So here are videos of the result.
    Wetting:
    https://drive.google.com/file/d/1BvPFRmDwDcA95QBi4a1dJEenmALNWl3B/view
    Rewettings:
    https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aNHOjDP3qVCm8gpT2Vsch_odhtz91YV3/view?usp=drivesdk
    https://drive.google.com/file/d/125yCNuLxEZ0YJTbeGSUvGyYTYk7BaWjV/view?usp=drivesdk
    https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_7BFksva1eUFkhaf8OWd6r0THsYDHvoe/view?usp=drivesdk
    (sorry for  my poor English, I'm Finnish)
  5. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to princesspee27 in Got Her Into Omo   
    So i've been seeing this girl lately who I haven't spoken about yet here, but finally decided to now. She's a big and tall girl with dark red hair and light blue/green eyes. She is very sweet and accepting of me in every way. Even though we only had a few dates, things have been going great between us. We have a blast everytime we are together. But this past weekend something really awesome happened.

     
    We went out to dinner, talked about things, laughed a ton and had a few drinks, probably a little too many. When we left, I went to go pee. After all I wasn't about to have an embarrassing accident in front of her, especially since I was drunk. I asked her if she had to go too and she said she was good. We went to go walk around town to walk off our drunken state a bit. At some point in the middle of laughter said grabbed herself for a second and said 'oooo I have to pee'. so I asked her if she wants to go find a bathroom, but she said ehh it can wait. Then we headed for the bus back to my house.

     
    Shortly after we sat down on the bus, she told me now she really has to pee, bad. I started to get really aroused and envisioned her losing it and wetting herself. I told her dont worry, we're only 15 minutes from my house. She said it's really bad and she's not going to make it. The second she said those words I absolutely exploded inside. My heart started racing and pounding of excitement. Almost at my stop she looked really scared of peeing herself. She started moaning bouncing and holding herself, and said she can't hold it much longer. I calmed her down and started rubbing her and my arm around her and told her "hey if it happens, don't feel embarrased ok? I wont think any differently of you. We're almost home" and gave her a kiss. She smiled at me big, kissed me back and felt a lot better.

     
    Meanwhile, her bladder wasn't at all. She started dribbling on the seat and I saw a slight wet patch on her skirt. We got up to get off our stop, she moaned, grabbed herself hard and drops of pee were hitting the floor. My heart started racing hard again and I turned red. We stepped off the bus to walk. Shortly after she started walking, a steady small trickle was coming out. She stopped and said 'omg no im peeing im peeing' squatted, yanked her skirt up, and let the dam bust open right out in the open. She wailed in relief, not caring she was urinating out in the clear view. The sound of her stream was so loud. My eyes lit up with desire seeing all this pee come out of her. She peed for well over 2 minutes. When she was done peeing I told her "see? that wasn't so bad!" and she laughed and joked about it the rest of the way home.

     
    After we washed up a bit, we layed in my bed. I had to come clean with her, and I completely spit it out and admitted my omo fetish. I started out by saying "you know... seeing you pee like that was... kinda hot haha" she laughed and looked flattered. She said she hasn't peed herself since she was 6 years old. Then I told her seeing her desperate and leaking was also really hot, and then she kinda looked confused. I said "Do you know why? I have a confession to make... I have this... umm... fetish... An unusual one... I hope you dont think im a creep but... I get aroused when I uhh... see people desperate to pee and wet thier pants... I used to have alot of pee accidents, I still do today, and it made me develop this fetish. I hope you dont think im crazy" and of course she was extremely accepting of it. She actually wanted to help me enjoy it more, and she agreed to get desperate and pee her pants for me.

     
    We went to bed, and we got up the next morning a bit hungover, held in our morning pee, drank lots of coffee and slipped into clothes we didnt care too much about. About an hour or two later we were bursting. We stepped into the bathtub and she said "here we go, are you ready? You go first..." I let go and in a few seconds, the warm pee spread down my jeans making that beautiful hiss noise. She put her hand over my crotch and felt the warm pee gush out. I finished and she said "mmmm I bet that felt soooo good... Here I go now... its coming ahhhh" That hissing gush sounded in her jeans and the pee spread down fast. I put my hand over her crotch and felt her warm pee gush out. When she finished she said "omg that felt SO good... I never knew how good it felt to pee your pants". we threw our wet clothes off, dashed for the bed, and im sure you know what we did next... Then we took a nice hot bath together and spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed watching netflix.
     
     
    The End! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! ????
     
  6. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to gladiatrix in Wetting myself in yoga pants and a sports bra! ❤️ (PICS)   
    Hope everyone isn't getting bored of me yet  I ended up going a lot this time!!

     


  7. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to rachelkirwan in Key-in-Latch Leak Today   
    This happened this afternoon, just a little leak as I was about to pull down my panties in the bathroom.... Also, these are my brand new panties, I love the stripes!

     
  8. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to Weeing Willow in A wet 4th (PICS)   
    You can’t celebrate the 4th of July without a little beer! That stuff sneaks up on you.
    I was so good about getting to the bathroom on time and not pushing it buuuut after the festivities were over I held a little too long. I was watching some YouTube videos and all of a sudden the urge just really hit me. I squirmed a little bit, thinking I could hold it until the end of the video but I was kind of drunk and my bladder just wasn’t having it. I rushed to the bathroom, spurting in my shorts, feeling small drips running down my legs. Luckily I made it to the toilet before the flood gates opened, but I was not dry by any means... I felt a little naughty so I took a few pics of the damage and had some fun in my wet shorts after. 
    Happy 4th!


  9. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to gladiatrix in Wetting in bra and panties! ❤️ (PICS)   
    Posting this is kind of really embarrassing so please be kind  I ended up going a lot this time ;0;!


     
  10. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to gladiatrix in Wetting myself in a skirt and socks! (PICS)   
    I wanted to go for more of a schoolgirl look this time!! Sorry, I know it doesn’t look like I wet as much this time, but the skirt probably absorbed a lot of it, plus I was leaking before I could even get the outfit on  Hope you enjoy!

  11. Upvote
    FestiveMint got a reaction from gladiatrix in Wetting myself in knee-high socks ❤️ (PICS)   
    Fantastic ?
  12. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to gladiatrix in Wetting myself in knee-high socks ❤️ (PICS)   
    I decided to do this on a whim and thought some of you might enjoy it   Hope you like these!

    And here’s a bonus ❤️

     
  13. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to rachelkirwan in Rachel Goes Back to the Urologist   
    As most of you will know by now, I’ve had a recent resurgence of my overactive bladder (OAB) over the past few months. As a result, I’ve been having significantly more accidents than normal. For the past three years, any wetting accidents (other than ones planned and for fun), have been largely limited to:
     Stress leaks, as a result of big sneezes, working out hard, jumping and landing too hard, all on a full or mostly full bladder. I’ve had these all my life and they are entirely manageable, as I can pretty much predict them and take countermeasures. For example, I’ll wear a pad all the time during that one month in Vancouver when I’m suddenly allergic to something in the air and suffer from lots of sneezes. If I’m going for a jog, I always wear black running shorts (or tights) which conceal accidents and leaks very effectively, and if I’m doing some serious impact stuff (and lazy Rachel hasn’t for a while now), then I’ll pop a pad in my panties. I’m also going to invest in a cute running skirt, as this will cover up leaks even better and I loved a tennis skirt I recently got to wear and wet for a customer.
    Despite these measures I do have the occasional unpredicted leak, caused by a hearty laugh, an unexpected impact, sneeze or that sort of thing. Fortunately, unless my bladder is bursting, these accidents typically only result in a large wet spot on my panties, which seldom shows through my clothes. I’ve learned to live with these very occasional occurrences by always packing a spare pair of panties in a Ziploc baggie in my purse, and not getting in the habit of wandering about, far from washrooms, with a super full bladder. I can still trigger one of these accidents, rather easily it would appear (given the fun I’ve been having with pads lately), and they are pretty similar.
    I should point out that on a super full bladder, the accident can be more serious, as I have difficulty stopping once I start, and once triggered by a stressor, my bladder can release a decent amount when full. Fortunately I’ve not had one of these accident in many year (though I came close on Black Friday…)
     Very rare bedwetting incidents. Prior to November, I had maybe two or three of these a year and they were all triggered by my going to bed with a pretty full bladder after drinking wine (or other booze). I’ve been adulting a lot lately, and not had occasions to do a lot of heavy student-like drinking, and as a result, my bed (and husband) were keeping dry. Even when I had been drinking, I would almost always put on protection before going to bed (almost always a Goodnite) and if I was too forgone to remember, my loving husband would often help me out.
    Up until November, these were the only issues I had to worry about, and they were not serious. However, in November, I wet the bed, on a random and non-party night, and then started getting more OAB symptoms. These included more wet nights, even after countermeasures (like reducing fluids, double voiding, avoiding some foods and that sort of thing), as well as some key-in-latch leaks and more serious accidents, and surprise urges that would cause me to need to rush to the bathroom ‘right now!’ some of which have resulted in those key-in-latch accidents.
    I grew up with these symptoms, and am very familiar with them. Growing up, we tried all sorts of things, so many that I won’t go into the list. I also think my mind fetishized wetting and diapers as a partial coping mechanism, though I’m sure there’s some more complicated psychology going on behind the scenes as well. Nothing much worked, apart from one medication, which I only used when I was travelling due to uncomfortable side effects, and which only really reduced the size of my night time accidents and the number of random urges I’ll got during the day.
    Then, when I was just graduating as an undergraduate, a new treatment emerged, which uses Botox injections into the overactive bladder muscles, thereby calming them down (to use totally non-technical terms). Well, we tried this, and after a really uncomfortable and embarrassing procedure, and a couple of weeks, it worked! I can’t say how happy I was! I went off to grad school, lost my virginity, slept over with boys, travelled around the world, had my heart broken, got married, and all sorts of things. Things I would have never done if I’d been wetting the bed each night, and having daytime urge issues.
    Well, the treatment is only expected to last 3 years or so. The Botox only calms the muscles down for so long. Well more than three years ago, I was in the early stages of my relationship with my husband (who was then my like 4th boyfriend), and the symptoms came back. I won’t rehash what happened, as it’s covered here (First diaper cuddle), but to summarize, Rachel had to make the decision to either come out to her boyfriend and tell him about her bedwetting issues, or find a new boyfriend (or more likely be single until I could get another treatment). Well Rachel gritted her teeth and steeled her strength, and spent her first night laying next to her now husband, wearing a diaper.
    Anyhow that was well over three years ago, and I was getting happy with having a pretty typical bladder again (a very high number of women have some stress incontinence issues, so even this is pretty typical). November, though I should have been expecting it, kind of came as a surprise.
    Because I know the deal by now, I scheduled an appointment with my urologist after my 3rd wet night.
    Since my unexpected wet night, I’ve wet the bed at least twice a week, and over the past two weeks, I’ve been wet three to four times. I’ve been wearing Goodnites to bed every night, and these have been keeping my bed (and husband) dry. The new Goodnites will hold an entire Rachel bladder, unless she is bursting, in which case, they leak a tiny amount, but these little spots are almost always dry by morning.
    I’ve been doing all the necessary lifestyle stuff I mentioned before bed as well. During the day I’ve re-established my using the bathroom ‘just in case’ policy more often, and in the most recent weeks, I’ve been wearing pads regularly. As a result, I’ve had few serious daytime incidents, though I have had a good number of leaks necessitating panty changes and pad replacements, and a few bigger accidents (which I’ll tell you about, or already have). This is also a little annoying because I’ve been selling my used panties to customers and not all of them want panties which have been peed in, accidents have required me to wash the panties and start wearing them all over again.
    All of this hasn’t stopped me from enjoying my fetish, and as I’m using them more often, I’ve been on a bit of a pad binge lately. I’ve kind of been enjoying wearing protection to bed and cuddling the hubby. It’s winter and often chilly at night, and cuddling in a diaper is a lovely feeling. Waking up wet it much less enjoyable, but the Goodnite makes it as manageable as possible. Oh and on a random note, I’ve also been leaking a lot more during sex, meaning that we’ve been going through a decent amount of towels on a good week.
    So this has been the past two months for me, and the OAB issues have been getting gradually a little worse, despite the precautions I’ve been taking. I’ve been waiting for my urologist appointment for quite some time, and it’s the first step I need to take in order to get a referral for the Botox treatment. The waiting list to see my urologist is longer than the list to get the Botox treatment, so my hope has been to get the old bladder working before the end of February. In anticipation of the appointment, I’ve been keeping a voiding diary (and actually I’ve been using an App on my phone, which is more geared towards kids, but kinda fun. DryDawn lets me print off reports for my urologist and is kinda cute).
    Well this past Friday I finally went in to see my urologist. Now in the past, when I was visiting my urologist more often, I would often experiment, just a little. In the UK my urologist would make you do a flow test and ultrasound every appointment, even if they were only 3 months apart, so I started experimenting a little. This included wearing a diaper to one appointment, and even ‘planning’ an accident at another.
    It is wrong to include others non-consensually in your kink, but I felt like in this case it wasn’t the same, as these were things I would actually do normally. For example, the ‘planned ultrasound accident’ was really a recreation of a real accident I had had at an appointment when I was in high school.
    I don’t see my Canadian urologist nearly as often, and so the redundant ultrasounds and flow tests don’t happen. I considered planning another accident, as I recall the emotions associated with this accident a lot still when I’m masturbating and they very often push me over the edge. But I have already done this, and besides, due to the increased inconvenience of my recent wettings, and the rarity with which I see my urologist, I felt like this might be a distraction. Also, given my current bladder situation, I don’t think I could hold nearly as much liquid, and I would almost certainly lose control of the situation very quickly.
    So this urologist appointment was going to be all business, or mostly business. Leading up to the appointment I was concerned about leaks and real accidents. To do an ultrasound (and flow test) you are asked to arrive with a ‘comfortably full bladder.’ Now because, as I’ve noted above, a full bladder puts me at considerable risk of having a real accident when my OAB symptoms kick in, I struggled to come up with just what a ‘comfortably full bladder’ would feel like for me. These days, a full bladder might be physically comfortable, but leave me super nervous about accidents.
    I settled on the solution of wearing protection to the appointment, and to add a little thrill to the experience, I would wear a Goodnite, rather than a more mature-looking Always or Depends pullup, or a more discreet pad.
    Now I’ve worn protection to numerous appointments in the past. My history of having real accidents when wandering about with a full bladder, or when a doctor pressed a freezing cold ultrasound wand on my distended bladder, has taught me to do this. In the past I’ve worn bulky incontinence pads to appointments, and these have often necessitated changing afterwards. One I have worn a Goodnite to an appointment, and the technician did not bat an eyelid at them when they pulled down the front of my pants to do the ultrasound. But this was only once, and my heart was pounding the whole time.
    So, for Friday’s appointment, I decided that once again, I would wear a Goodnite to the appointment, and see what happened. I woke up wet and therefore started my day with a shower. 
    So in preparation for the 1:40 appointment I kept well hydrated all morning and used the washroom several times. My morning two mugs of green tea went through me like a flood. I printed off my voiding diary and bladder stats, and checked some emails.
    At 11 am I got ready to leave, the appointment was across town and required some complicated use of buses and the Skytrain, and I didn’t want to arrive late. My plan was to arrive early and read a book in a nearby café before heading over to the office.
    Before I left, I changed out of the PJs I was wearing around the house, and into one of the owl-print Goodnites I love so much. Overtop I pulled a pair of my Little Mermaid boy-short panties (my cute green ones). I typically always wear panties overtop of diapers when I’m wearing out in public, this makes changing easier as you can just tear off the Goodnite, and also cuts down on noise. The panty waistband can also offer some added discretion if the panties are sufficiently large. I then pulled on a pair of light jeans. If I did have an accident, the Goodnites would almost certainly catch everything, however they leaked, I didn’t want to make things easier for me. I put a tank top over my bra, buttoned up a blouse and put on a nice jumper over top. I put on some makeup and grabbed my book, purse and phone, and headed out into the world around 11:30. Not bad prep time actually ;)
    I did have pads and my usual spare pair of panties in my purse, but did not bring a larger bag with say a change of pants. I used the washroom right before leaving the house, as I’d filled up during my preparations. I brought a small water bottle and some snacks as well.
    I therefore left the house in my Goodnite, I was filled with mixed and complicated emotions. I read my book in transit and was acutely aware of the diaper I was wearing. I’ve worn out in public tons of times, both for fun and out of need. Sometimes this seems like a normal thing and I quickly almost forget about the protection I’m wearing. Other times I’ll we aware of it all the time, and worry about leaks or peeks. Today, given what was going to transpire in the early afternoon, I was very aware of the protection I was wearing and made sure my larger jumper covered the waistband of my jeans when I moved about.
    The transit gods smiled on me, and I arrived at the general vicinity of the urologist’s office with lots of time to spare, it was about 1 pm when I arrived, and so I headed over to a small independent café across the street and ordered a large tea. My water bottle was empty at this point and I could feel myself filling up. I was at about a 4 on the old desperation scale; the point where I was comfortable, and would likely not use the washroom just in case, unless I was about to depart on a long car ride, or that sort of thing.
    I settled down and read my book for half an hour. At about 1:20 pm, I felt like I was would not be full enough for the appointment, and since I’d already finished my tea, I had a glass of water and I filled my water bottle from the water jug as well.
    I downed this, and was feeling to be about a 6 or a 7 when I got up at 1:30 pm and wandered over to the office to check in. Now the reason I didn’t fill up to the point of jumping about and/or needing to hold myself, was that despite the fact that I was schedule for 1:40 pm, I’ve almost never been to an appointment with a urologist that wasn’t running behind. It has something to do with the tests they do and other factors, but they never seem to be on time. My UK clinic had a sign that said “if your appointment is 45 minutes late, see the nurses at the front,” largely because people are regularly arriving with full bladders and 45 minutes was a typical, albeit horribly long, wait for the office.
    I signed in and the friendly woman at the front desk, who was about my age, maybe a little older, but who was wearing far too much makeup, confirmed my address, and asked me if I needed to pee. It’s always a little embarrassing to have a stranger ask you this, and I must have blushed a little because she broke eye contact, but I confirmed that yes, I did have to go.
    “We are running about 15 minutes late, will you be ok?” she asked.
    I thought about it for a little bit, but given my current situation, another 15 or 20 minutes seemed reasonable. I was feeling a little brave as well, and I thought downing my water bottle over this time as well. I confirmed that I would be ok, still blushing, and she directed me to take a seat.
    The waiting room was small and cramped. It constituted about 8 chairs around a small alcove (three on each side and two on the back), with a table strewn with magazines, OAB leaflets, and other brochures. There was a sad looking fake plant in the corner, and a water cooler near the entrance with little paper cups. The alcove is off to the right when you come in the entrance of the office, but no immediately to the right, this is the washroom, marked with a generic sign. The nurses/receptionist desk is off to the left with a hall leading into the examination rooms beside it. The reception desk is not too far from the waiting alcove and I nervously thought that everyone in the waiting room could hear our conversation, despite my hushed tone.
    I took off my jacket and grabbed a seat between two people. I looked around the waiting room, and there were a number of other people there. I don’t really recall all the details, but it was sufficiently crowded that I needed to take a seat between two people. I chose the seat in the corner on the right hand side, next to the sad-looking plant. To my left was an elderly woman sitting next to an elderly man. I assumed they were a couple, as they exchanged quiet words from time to time. To my right was a 40-something woman with who I assume was her daughter of 13 or 14 sitting beside her. Sitting across from me was an older man, maybe in his 50s or 60s, who was sitting in the middle of the three seats on this side. I felt more comfortable sitting between the two women. Walking in I smiled awkwardly at the other people in the waiting room but didn’t get much of a response. The young girl was playing on her phone (or some device), her mother was reading a magazine. The man across from me was sitting there waiting quietly, and the couple to my left were similarly waiting, though every so often one of them would explore the materials on the table. Everyone looked relatively relaxed, and by this I mean no one was sitting on their heel, bouncing up and down, or holding themselves.
    I opened my bag and removed my book, and continued reading. Every so often I would look up, distracted by a movement from a fellow patient. I deduced that the woman in the couple next to me was likely the patient, and that her husband was there for support. It was also not hard to deduce that the young girl was the patient brought by her mother (as otherwise she would have been in school). I commiserated with her, as I’ve been in her exact place before. I continued to read but was becoming increasingly full. Again feeling a little exhibitionistic, I decided that I would play at being a little more desperate than I actually was. 
    I crossed my legs, and wiggled my foot. After about 5 minutes a woman in a long coat walked out from the examination room hallway, exchanged a few words with the woman at the reception, and headed out. A few minutes later a female nurse in her 40s walked out and spoke with the receptionist, and then called a name. The older man across from me stood up and followed her inside. I was now at about an 8 on the desperation scale and beginning to worry, just a little. It was a only 1:45pm, but given the number of people in the waiting room, I was expecting a longer than 15 minute wait. I was most worried about having a bladder spasm, as I was pretty sure I could last at least another 20 minutes without too much difficulty, and perhaps longer if need be, but if my bladder decided to send me an urge spasm, I was at the point now where I would likely only barely make it to the nearby washroom, if at all.
    I was also super nervous, my heart was pounding in time with my jiggling foot, and I noticed I wasn’t making much progress on my book. I bookmarked my spot, and decided to abandon my reading. I squeezed my legs together more tightly, and reminded myself that I was wearing reliable protection, and that I could always get up and ask to use the washroom ‘to relieve pressure’ if I absolutely had to. But this didn’t quite comfort me, I suppose my intentional desperate body language was tricking my brain into thinking I was more desperate than I was.
    The young girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve and whispered something in her ear, and her mother responded quietly back. The older couple sat in amiable silence. And I sat there, legs tightly twisted together, jiggling my foot desperately. This tableau continued for some time, until about 1:55pm (I checked my phone), when a different middle-aged female nurse came out and called another name. This time the older couple got up, and, after taking some time gathering their things, they followed the nurse in. As the waiting room emptied, I could feel eyes on me. I looked up and could see the receptionist looking my way, inquisitively. Glancing about I also briefly saw the eyes of the young girl staring at me, before they were quickly averted.
    I was still at about an 8.5 but my desperation was increasing significantly. I had to decide if I was going to hold myself or sit on my heel. I opted for holding myself, because if I did have a leak while sitting on my heel there was a very good chance that the Goodnite might leak. I carefully uncrossed my legs and keeping them tightly squeezed together. I was no longer play-acting desperate body language, I was honestly desperate. It was 2:00 pm and my appointment was nowhere in sight. I moved my purse to my lap to provide cover, and once it was there, I carefully moved my hand underneath and pressed two fingers between my legs. All the while, I could not keep my foot from jiggling.
    At about this time, another patient came in through the office door and checked in with the receptionist. This time it was an older man, probably in his 60s, and after speaking with the receptionist, he moved to assume the spot across from me. He smiled as he came into the waiting area, and made some comment about the weather. The woman and her daughter ignored him and had another whispered exchange. As a result, I felt like the comment was directed at me and that social pressure dictate that I respond (I was no longer reading after all). Not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to have a lengthy conversation, lest my desperation be audible in the sound of my voice, I gave a non-committal answer. He tried for conversation a second time, and this time cheerfully asked something like:
    “You been here before?”
    I wasn’t going to escape from this conversation that easily, and so, hand still surreptitiously holding myself under my purse, I made light conversation, or tried to. My foot was wiggling uncontrollably now, and I my legs were shaking a little. I responded something like
    “Yes, this is my first time to this doctor.”
    This is a new urologist for me, I’m relatively new to the city and I’ve usually gone to a clinic near our flat when I need medication or for general checkups. I went there in November to get a referral to a urologist, it’s really hard to find a family doctor in Vancouver, but the local clinic knows me pretty well. I feel more comfortable once I’ve had the same doctor a couple of times, I am always embarrassed by raised eye brows and probing questions from new doctors reading my file for the first time.
    The older man was giving off the vibe of someone who does not quite pick up on subtle social cues, like the curt answer I had just delivered, or perhaps he was super desperate and talking took his mind off of it. Either way, he pressed on.
    “I’m here because of the old prostate, never been to this kinda doctor before.” I’ve tried to capture his friendly but colloquial manner, also this is sort of an approximation of the conversation, it’s surprisingly hard to remember things when you are bursting.
    “So your first time too then.” He finished, which was not quite a question. I felt compelled to answer him, rather than give a non-committal ‘uh huh,’ but also not wanting to give this man my life story coupled with my medical history. 
    “No, I’ve had a number of doctors, this is just my first time here.” I clarified. Now don’t forget, I was edging towards a 9 on the desperation scale, though I was still holding on at an 8.5, my hand offering whatever support it could between my legs, hopefully shielded from view by my purse. The padding of the combination of my jeans and the diaper I was wearing made my two fingers not as effective as if I’d been wearing a thin dress… or if my hand were inside my Goodnite. Unfortunately this would have been wildly inappropriate, but a girl can dream. At the edge of my vision I could see the girl and her mother exchanging more whispers. I was very preoccupied with my own situation, but I think I could see clear signs of desperation in the girl.
    “Oh,” he intoned, perhaps now picking up on my flat disengaging tone. But no, he pressed on. Who makes idle conversation in a doctors waiting room? “You been waiting long?” He asked, thankfully steering the conversation in another direction.
    “Um,” using this opportunity to press my thighs together more closely, which was hard given that my legs were shaking. I know that sitting sort of hunched over in this fashion is not the most effective way to hold your pee when you are super desperate, but it was the only position I could take given the type of chairs and my need to hold myself.
    Checking my phone required an awkward one armed maneuver into my purse. I looked at my phone and it said 2:08 pm.
    “Um not too long, maybe half an hour.” I replied vaguely, slipping my phone back into my bag. Fool! I should have pretended to check a message or something to escape the conversation.
    “Oh, that long huh? Well, you look like you need to go badly.” He observed in a tone that implied that he commiserated with my situation.
    I could feel my face burn as I blushed crimson. I was horrified. He must have noticed, as he let the conversation thankfully trail off at this point. I was pretty desperate, and I’m sure it was rather obvious, but there is something utterly embarrassing about a stranger noticing and pointing out these signs. I had the fleeting desire to deny the need to go, like a child caught holding themselves and bouncing about might do when confronted by an adult and asked if the needed to go. But I was too embarrassed, and still thinking clearly used this awkward moment to try to extricate myself from the conversation.
    At this point the girl whispered something else to her mother, who stood up, and made her way to the receptionist, where she asked a question. Probably the question we were all wondering. The receptionist responded in a voice that carried over into the waiting room, something along the lines of “It should not be much longer, no more than 10 minutes.” And then she said something else in a quieter tone and had a short, hushed conversation with the woman.
    My mind did some quick math and thinking. So 15 minutes, who did that apply to? Was it the estimate for the young girl and mother, and who was first? If I was first, and the receptionist was predicting 15 minutes, then I was likely going to be seen right away. But if they were going to be seen first, then did I have to wait another 20 to 25 minutes? How many technicians were they operating? If it was just one then it might take longer. If it was two, then surely I’d be seen shortly. My mind raced and this was nice, as it sort of took my mind off my growing desperation.
    I did take a moment to contemplate just going in my Goodnite, this was one of the reasons I had chosen to wear it, in case there were delays, in case I had a bad urge and couldn’t make it to the washroom on time, and also for the little thrill of wearing it in a situation where it would be seen. But I also was not sure about my ability to stop after having initiated a flow. And while the new Goodnites are pretty good and do hold almost a full Rachel bladder, I definitely had a full Rachel bladder at this point. It would likely leak. Plus sitting down makes leaks unpredictable. Not only this, but you are supposed to have a full bladder for these tests, and if I emptied my bladder into the diaper (or in the washroom literally next to me), I would have to wait for it to refill. Yes, there was the option of trying to half empty my bladder in either the toilet or my Goodnite, but I really didn’t think I could stop the flow mid-way through, it would be more like at the last quarter if I was luck.
    While all this was racing through my head, the man, perhaps realizing his social faux pas was rummaging around on the table for a magazine, and the mother and daughter were exchanging words in very hushed tones. I didn’t catch much at all, only a few snippets. But after a few more words, the girl handed her phone to her mother and walked around the corner to the washroom. I’m pretty sure I know what had been discussed. Clinics will always let you use the washroom if you are desperate to go, and they ask you to just release a little, to remove the pressure. As I was just discussing, this isn’t really an option available to me, but it is very common. Worst case of course you empty your whole bladder and then have to sit there for however long it takes to refill it using the little paper cups from the water cooler. It was 2:11 pm.
    With only three of us in the waiting area, and my inclination leaning towards jumping in the loo as soon as the girl returned, I finally spotted the first nurse walking to the receptionist. They spoke very briefly and there was a point. Then I heard my name.
    “Kirwan? Kirwan?”
    I pulled my hand out from between my legs and jumped up. This was perhaps ill-advised as it sent shocks of desperation through my abdomen. I hurried over, forgetting my jacket in the waiting room.
    “Yes, that’s me.” I gasped.
    “Ready?” Ask the kindly looking nurse. Like I mentioned, she was in her 40s, and had long black hair. She was a little over weight, but in a way that indicated that she’d likely had a couple of children.
    I nodded vigorously, and followed her down the hall. She made small talk as we walked.
    “Sorry we were running a little late… Would you like to use the washroom before we do the ultrasound? Just to let off a little pressure?” She asked kindly.
    “Better not,” I replied. Walking seemed to have reduced my acute desperation for the time being, and I felt like I had settled in to an 8.5. And then, feeling like some explanation was needed, and blushing a little, I added “It’s hard for me to stop once I get going.”
    “Oh that’s ok, we’ll be super quick.” She replied. “That’s the washroom for after.” She gestured towards a clearly marked door on our right. “And we will be in here.” She gestured to a room almost across the hall from the washroom to the left. The hallway continued along a ways and I noticed other doors and trolleys and baskets along the sides of the hallway out of the corner of my eye as we turned into the room.
    “So you’ve done this before?” The nurse asked. For some reason the rooms where they do ultrasounds always seem darker than they should, it’s a little strange. Anyhow, I was in no condition to observe the room too closely. The abatement to my desperation due to walking was gone, and I was at a 9. It wasn’t a ‘the pee is coming now’ kind of 9, but it was certainly a ‘you need to find a washroom in the next two minutes or it’s going to happen’ kind of 9. I concentrated hard on controlling my bladder.
    “Yeah, a couple of times.” I replied, almost not hearing her answer.
    “You can put your purse here if you like,” said the nurse, helpfully gesturing to a couple of chairs to the right of the door. I did so, and then hurried to the table. Knowing the process by this point, I undid the top button of my jeans. I lay on my back and rolled up my tops, revealing my naked belly.
    “Ok, so I’ll only scan your bladder now, then you can use the washroom, it’s all set up for your flow test. When you come back, I’ll scan for residual and do your kidneys, sound good?” She asked, while rolling the ultrasound machine over to the side of the table.
    “I really have to go.” I admitted a little panicky, and blushing just a little. For some reasons it’s easier to tell a medical practitioner these things, rather than say a random guy.
    “Don’t worry I’ll be quick.” She replied. “Would you mind undoing those a little?” She gestured towards my jeans. While I had undone the button, I had no touched the fly at all. They need to scan your full bladder for these kinds of ultrasounds, and this usually involves them having to pull down the waistband of your trousers. I am fully aware of this, having done a dozen or so ultrasounds in my day, and as I mentioned, would almost always wear a pad to these tests, and a pair of panties which look dignified, so not my adorable little mermaid panties. Today I had broken both of these practices, and was wearing green Little Mermaid panties overtop of a Goodnite. Not quite caring at this point, but also getting a secret exhibitionistic rush, I undid my fly, and pulled it all the way down. And for good measure (and to avoid getting the ultrasound goo on my jeans), I shimmied my pants down a little, wiggling my bum. In so doing I revealed the top inch of the waistband of the Goodnites, and the top portion of my panties. The Little Mermaid emblem is on the bum of the panties, so this was not visible, and they would appear to the casual observing nurse, to be a normal pair of green panties.
    My desperation was a powerful all-consuming force at this point, and I considered just releasing. Wetting a Goodnite while laying on your back is one of the safer positions in which to flood it. It is when you lay on your side that you have to worry about leaks. I decided to hold on until after the test, as I could make it, if it happened now.
    The nurse pulled out a piece of thin paper and, pulling the waistband of my diaper and panties down a little ways, tucked it in, she tucked in a second piece of paper next to it. “This will keep your …” She paused, and then quickly re-phrased, “This will stop the gel from getting on your clothes.”
    I was blushing in the low light of the room. My heart was pounding and I could feel my adrenaline rising. This was that exquisite exhibitionistic thrill suffuses my body in panicky energy. My diaper was obvious. She has clearly seen the upper purple waistband of the Goodnite, and had been about to say something like ‘keep your underwear or clothes dry’ or something like that, but had quickly stopped herself. I was not imagining things.
    I couldn’t help but close my eyes for a moment. And I only opened them when I felt the warm gel being rubbed all over my belly. I remember when the gel was cold, but at some point in my lifetime of bladder issues, a genius had added a gel warmer to the ultrasound trolley. I, and probably millions of women (and men) are thankful for this, I’m sure.
    The nurse pressed the want into my bulging bladder. It was clearly visible protruding right above the thin paper, which covered my Goodnite, a round softball, crying out for release. I watched her move the wand around my belly, looking at the screen to her left as she did so. She pressed firmly with the wand, and I could not resist letting out a little gasp. Did I let out a few drops as well? I wasn’t sure.
    “It’s ok, almost done.” She intoned, sensing my growing desperation. The wand moved about over my stretched skin. Over and around my bulging bladder. The pressure from the wand was considerable, and pushed me into the 9.5-10 level of desperation.
    I don’t know if others have shared this experience with me, but at this point, when your body is ready to override you mental commands and release your bladder, you sometimes have difficulty actually peeing? Well this was what happened to me now. I felt an acute sharpness in my bladder and then, in a millisecond of panic, I relaxed my sphincter mentally. But it did not respond right away. It was as if it wanted to take some sort of victory lap after the impressive accomplishment of keeping me from an accident for so long.
    “All done.” The nurse said, whipping the gel off my belly with a scratchy piece of paper towel. As she removed the two pieces of paper from my waistband, I could feel a tiny amount of pee escaping into the Goodnite. Not a spurt, but a steady flow, only it was very thin, as though all of the effort in holding back my pee had really tightened up my urethra, turning my normal wide flow into a thin jet. I gasped a little, or moaned, I’m not sure which, but I made some kind of vocalization, and I’m not sure if it gave away my predicament.
    “Ok, I’ll get the commode set up for your flow test, can you wait another few seconds?” She ask. “I just need to push on button.” She added, moving over to the door and opened it. Had she closed it when we came in? She must have, but I didn’t remember.
    I didn’t bother to do up my button or pull down my sweater. I was tempted to hold myself to provide a final bit of support as I made my way to the toilet, now within my view. But I held off, this would only make pulling down my bottoms all the more difficult. Instead, I used one of my hands to hold my pants up, and followed her out across the hall into the washroom. All the while my bladder slowly released. She fiddled with the buttons attached to the commode for what seemed like ages, though it was probably only a second or two.
    The commodes that they use for these kinds of flow tests are like normal toilets with raised seats. Inside the toilet bowl is a sensor which detects how fast your flow is, and if there are any disruptions or that sort of thing.
    As I stepped into the washroom and with the toilet in sight I could feel the flow of pee jetting into my Goodnite widen just a little bit. Could I almost make out a faint hiss of pee hitting the material of the diaper? I was standing there staring at the toilet, my way barred by a friendly and helpful nurse. I blushing furiously, thinking she could hear me peeing myself. Stopping was not an option at this point. Though the flow seemed to be slower than normal. I still felt like my urethra was narrower than normal – letting out a thinner-than-normal jet of pee, though a jet of pee none the less. I was also thinking feverishly; trying to decide whether I should pull down everything, and risk getting my jeans wet, or whether I should just worry about the jeans and panties and fishing sitting on the toilet in my Goodnites, with the toilet catching the overflow (because this Goodnite was going to over flow, I could just feel it). I decided, and felt around with the fingers of each of my hands, feeling for the waistband of my panties.
    The toilet beeped.
    “Ok, all set,” The nurse stepped away from the toilet. Only a couple of seconds had passed. I was at the toilet in an instant. Still freely peeing into my Goodnite, in a fluid motion I pulled my jeans and underwear down, turned, and plunked myself down on the toilet. My body released and I flooded the Goodnite, suffusing my labia a hot wetness.
    “Come back over when you are done.” The nurse intoned from the door of the washroom. When she said this I was jarred from my reverie of relief and looked up to see her standing at the bathroom door. In my haste to get onto the toilet, I’d forgotten about privacy. I’d not given her time to exit the washroom before I yanked down my jeans and panties. She quickly turned and closed the door behind her.
    I was awash in emotions: The sense of blissful relief resulting from finally getting to pee. Pride, in having held on for so long, and for having made what I think was a good choice about not pulling down the pullup. And horrifying embarrassment at having pulled down my pants in front of the nurse, magnified because I had done so wearing a cute owl print Goodnite diaper. My heart was pounding as though I’d just done wind sprints or stairs, and my system was suffused with adrenaline.
    My original plan had been to get a little thrill of excitement from having a stranger see the waistband of my Goodnites, and also the fun of public desperation in a safe setting. I had not planned for the nurse to see my entire diapered bottom half, or to release right before reaching the washroom. I suppose if I’d thought through my plan, and given the current behaviour of my bladder these past few months, that a key-in-latch leak was likely, but I suppose I underplayed this. Or slightly miscalculated my fluids. Or the wait was longer than I had planned. Maybe I should have tried to release while back in the waiting room. That felt like hours ago.
    I could hear the tinkling sound of pee overflowing the Goodnite and dripping into the toilet. I reached down and pulled down on the gusset to allow pee to escape there. The tinkle was replaced with a brief fwoosh, and then resumed, as pee simply rolled off the Goodnites gusset and into the toilet. If I don’t do this, the seal of the gathers on the new Goodnites is so good that sometimes the pee will overflow up the back or up the front and escape along the upper sides of the absorbent section or even the top (if I’m laying down for example). I was not keen on getting my cloths wet, or having to wipe down the floor. The pee was warm against my fingers. I could hear the hiss of my pee as it overwhelmed the diaper.
    It is hard to recall just how long I peed for, given the strange stilted start, but it was certainly a good minute, probably a little longer. As I was finishing, I was rocked with another wave of panic. Remember a few moments ago when I had a vague sense of pride at having correctly decided that I should leave the Goodnites up to protect my clothes? Well I had forgotten that I was supposed to be doing a flow test. The whole reason the nurse had been in the washroom at all was to turn the machine one. Despite the fact that a decent amount of pee was dripping into the toilet from the overwhelmed Goodnite, I was not doing the test correctly. Most of the pee, had been absorbed into the Goodnite.
    At this point I was pretty overwhelmed by everything and gave a couple of large panicky breaths. I worked at calming myself down, still sitting on the toilet wearing the bloated and wet Goodnite.
    I hastily tore the sides of the Goodnite and carefully pulled it up the front. If you let the front flop down, it risks spilling unabsorbed pee everywhere, and I had not come this far to get my panties and jeans (still around my ankles) wet. Some additional pee dripped into the commode. I rolled the wet diaper up and put it on the ground beside me. It dripped a little. I reached for the toilet paper and carefully wiped and dried myself. This took several wads. I also used one to wipe my eyes. At some point a couple of tears had escaped.
    My heart was still pounding, and I was almost shaking from the adrenalin. Fully dry, I pulled up my panties and jeans, did them up, and then picked up the wet Goodnite and deposited it in the garbage which had been just out of reach when I was sitting on the toilet. Heavy with pee, it sunk into the paper towel there. I washed my hands and added another few flowers of paper on top of it.
    I wet down a wad of paper towel with cool water and held it over my face to cool it, as it felt like it was on fire. There was a knock.
    “Everything ok?” I heard the nurse inquire through the door.
    “Yes, thank you” I stammered, my voice breaking. I heard a shuffling on the other side, and moved to lock the door. I then spent a couple of minutes composing myself and taking deep breaths.
    I looked around the washroom finally. Apart from the usual stuff, there was the commode, and beside it a urinal. The top of the commode had a panel with buttons and a piece of paper, that looked a lot like a receipt from the grocery story, had been spit out. I’ve seen these before. The machine spits out a paper copy of your flow. I asked one of my old urologists about the purpose of the flow test many exams ago, and the answer is that they are looking for irregularities. People with prostate issues will start and stop and create peaks and valleys on the sheet. Those with trouble starting will have a certain kind of line. I looked at my sheet of paper, and saw a couple of little bumps and then a big hump, followed by a low and bumpy line. This would be wholly useless as a diagnostic tool for my urologist, not that I’ve ever had issues with flow. I wasn’t concerned about the diagnostic implications of what had happened, but I still could not think of a way to explain it to the nurse without dying of embarrassment.
    I had been in the washroom for about 8 minutes when I realized that I had filled up a little. In the past, when I’ve done these tests, if they test you and find that you still have more than a couple of mils of residual they ask for you to try again. Hoping to avoid this, I pulled my jeans and panties back down and peed for another dribbling ten seconds on the commode. I wiped and washed my hands.
    I knew I could not remain in the washroom for much longer without worrying the nurse, and still with no idea about what I would say, I took the little piece of paper with further evidence of my shame, unlocked the bathroom door, and walked across the hall to the ultrasound room. I saw the nurse down the hall as I did so. It looked as though she was talking to the receptionist. I entered the empty room and sat in the chair next to my purse.
    I heard the nurse walking down the hall, arrive at the intersection of the examination room and washroom and turn into the washroom. She moved around in there for a short while and then returned to the examination room.
    “Everything ok?” She inquired, even toned and professional but with a hint of genuine concern.
    “I… Um…” I was still not sure exactly how to explain what had happened. And opening my mouth didn’t seem to help. She quickly saved me the trouble by interrupting my stammering.
    “Don’t worry, the flow test isn’t necessary, it’s ok.” The nurse said comfortingly, reaching down and removing the piece of paper which I was clutching between two fingers. “I can take this.”
    I was grateful that she had cut me off before I began to explain. I’m still not exactly sure what I would have said. However, her cutting me off in this way indicated to me that she knew exactly what had happened (or close enough to it), having seen the first part and extrapolated.
    “All right, let’s scan you now that you are empty, can you hop back up on the table please?” She asked politely in a chipper tone.
    I stood up, a little apprehensive and once again undid my jeans button. I also unzipped them and shimmied them down a little before I crawled back up on the examination table. In case it wasn’t obvious to her before, it was clear that I had wet my Goodnite, or at least removed it.
    This time she slipped the two pieces of thin paper underneath the waistband of my panties, and went about slathering on the ultrasound gel. I made eye contact with her for a minute and she smiled politely and reassuringly, as only a good professional nurse can do. The second part of the test took considerably longer than the first part. She once again scanned my bladder, saying something like,
    “Good, residual is only Xmls.”
    Feeling like I had to chime in at this point, I gathered up my courage and added “I used the toilet a second time.” Though I could have provided more detail, I couldn’t bring myself to.
    “Oh that’s good,” she replied.
    I was then instructed to roll onto each of my sides so that she could scan each of my kidneys. She was very thorough. I lay there, heart still pounding but slowing a little, as she rolled the wet gel-covered ultrasound probe over my lower body. The kidney scan takes considerably longer, as they always look for issues and stones and the like, and I was grateful that this was (and typically is) done after you’ve had the chance to empty your bladder. She finished and wiped the gel off my sides.
    “Ok, I’ll just put all of this in your file and show you to the consultation room, Dr. Y will be with your shortly.” She informed me. The test over, I sat up from the bed, and hopped off. I pulled up and then did up my jeans, and went over to the chair by the door where I had deposited my purse. While I was doing this the nurse jotted some notes down in my file, and then stapled the little slip of paper from my ‘failed’ flow test into the coloured folder. I waited politely by the down, face downcast for a few moments while she completed her notes. She then got up from the little wheelie stool that she had been sitting on in order to do the test, and headed out of the room.
    “Just this way.”
    I followed her out and to the left down the hall. We turned once and then she showed me into a typical consultation room.
    “Just have a seat and Dr. Y will be with you shortly.” She informed me again, smiling at me kindly.
    I opted to sit in one of the chairs in the room, rather than the examination table, as I wasn’t expecting any kind of medical exam at this point. This was generally the part of the appointment where I simply talk to the doctor. In the past, when my doctor was familiar with my case and myself they would ask about my progress or success with a different medication we were trying, or an update. As this was a new doctor, I was expecting to have to rehash my medical (and more bladder) history with them. I had brought notes as I tend to forget the names of the different medications I’ve tried and significant dates and the like, and I had also brought my voiding diary (printed off from the helpful App.).
    I won’t recount the 20 minute consultation I had with the urologist, as I’ve actually rehashed most of my relevant medical history above, but I’ll add that the nurse and doctor did have a muted conversation just outside of earshot down the hallway before the doctor came in, and this made me blush a little. I was a little flustered all the same and the 10 minutes wait for the urologist to come to see me only permitted me to regain my composure to an extent. I was glad that I had brought my notes. Apart from a surprise question about UTIs which got me a little flustered for reasons I won’t go into, the conversation was pretty typical.
    I’m please to say that the urologist did give me a referral for another round of Botox treatment, and I am just waiting for this appointment, it should be in early March. I’ll report back on how this goes for those who are interested.
    After I got my referral, as well as a repeat of some advice about lifestyle changes I could make to reduce my symptoms, and a prescription for the medication I will occasionally take to reduce my symptoms further, the doctor walked me out into the reception area. I thanked them and smiled awkwardly at the receptionist whose expression I could not read, and I headed towards the door. Just as I was about to leave the receptionist called my name.
    “Ms. Kirwan?” She called after me. I froze, one hand on the door, not sure what would happen next. “Is that your coat?” She asked.
    I turned around and did an awkward arm gesture, in which I suppose I was feeling for the coat I was not wearing, realized I did not have it, walked back to the waiting room, and found my coast still on the back of my chair where I had left it hours(?) ago. I retrieved it, not really paying any attention to the three people in the waiting too, except to notice that the man and the woman and her child were no longer there.
    I thanked the receptionist, slipped into my jacket, and beat a retreat back to the SkyTrain. Outside the office I texted my husband to let him know that everything had gone ok, neglecting to tell him about some, or rather most, of the actual things that transpired at the urologists office. I think sending him this much writing in a single text might challenge his appreciation for smart phone technology, and well while I’m open about my medical issues and kinks with him, this isn’t exactly something I think either of us are comfortable discussing.
    I decided to treat myself to some food, as I’d not had much before the appointment. I found a nice place nearby, and as I worked my way through some sushi, my heart rate reached a normal rate. The complicated maelstrom of emotions associated with these kinds of embarrassing incidents began to roil inside of me. It would take a while for me to process all the emotions from today’s misadventure, to isolate the exciting ones from the terrifying ones. But what was clear was that I had some writing to do when I got home.
    Thanks for sticking out to the end of this, I realize that 17 pages is actually quite a lot of writing to tell a story that could have been told in a couple of paragraphs, but I suppose that it is cathartic to write this stuff down. I’ve got a whole folder of experiences I’ve had, with half-completed one dominating at this point, and it’s interesting to go through them and re-read some of the strange, embarrassing, funny, and exciting things I’ve got up to.
    Stay tuned for another update.
    Hugs,
    Rach
     
     
  14. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to TVGuy in Wetting and Masturbating   
    Watch Sosha pee in her panties in masturbate in this simple, but sexy, wetting video.
    We find Sosha in this video wearing only sexy purple panties and bra.  With very little lead up, she proceeds to pee through her underwear, making a puddle on the floor.  The camera zooms in for a close up as she pees, and we can clearly see a wide stream pour from her panties as they grow dark with wetness.
    Once she is done peeing, still wearing her soaking wet underwear, she masturbates while standing in her puddle.  Rubbing her pussy through her warm, wet, cotton panties, she soon climaxes.  After cumming she shows off her wet underwear for the camera before saying goodbye.










  15. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to TVGuy in Bound in White Panties   
    Wearing only white cotton panties, Alisha is bound and desperate to pee in this video.  Unable to hold on any longer, she ends up peeing in her underwear as Sosha watches her.
    This video starts off with Alisha tied up in the dungeon, wearing only white cotton panties.  She is extremely desperate to pee, but unable to escape.  Dressed as a sexy dominatrix, Sosha enters the scene and tries to make Alisha loose control of her bladder.  Sosha tickles Alisha and pressed firmly on her bladder as Alisha squirms, struggling not to pee.
    Ultimately Alisha reaches her breaking limit.  As Sosha gleefully watches, Alisha wets herself, peeing in her panties.  Once Alisha is done peeing, Sosha removes her wet panties, leaving her completely naked.  Then, with Alisha still wet with her pee, Sosha proceeds to rub her pussy.  It doesn’t take Sosha long to give Alisha an orgasm.  Sosha then walks off, leaving Alisha bound and nude.
    WARNGING: The following images contain nudity-


  16. Upvote
    FestiveMint got a reaction from Thunder in [Female] Girl Holding Until Wetting   
    I have 3 of her vids, one of these is most likely the same as OP's (its hard to tell which as they are both in the shower) 
     
    Number 2 is one of my all time favorites.
    MyGirlFund(Me1).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me3).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me2).mp4
  17. Upvote
    FestiveMint got a reaction from amasonbo1 in [Female] Girl Holding Until Wetting   
    I have 3 of her vids, one of these is most likely the same as OP's (its hard to tell which as they are both in the shower) 
     
    Number 2 is one of my all time favorites.
    MyGirlFund(Me1).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me3).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me2).mp4
  18. Upvote
    FestiveMint got a reaction from Zygomaster in [Female] Girl Holding Until Wetting   
    I have 3 of her vids, one of these is most likely the same as OP's (its hard to tell which as they are both in the shower) 
     
    Number 2 is one of my all time favorites.
    MyGirlFund(Me1).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me3).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me2).mp4
  19. Upvote
    FestiveMint got a reaction from Hamr in [Female] Girl Holding Until Wetting   
    I have 3 of her vids, one of these is most likely the same as OP's (its hard to tell which as they are both in the shower) 
     
    Number 2 is one of my all time favorites.
    MyGirlFund(Me1).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me3).mp4
    MyGirlFund(Me2).mp4
  20. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to Nineteen in Another Tickle Wetting   
    It's been a while, readers! As much as I love writing on here, I've been a bit short on time and long on prior commitments lately, so I haven't had a lot of opportunities. Fortunately, I got sick enough of not posting on here that I decided to start down my list of ideas, which begins with a fairly old story, but, since it's similar to the one I posted before, I figured you guys might like it. So... here's hoping you actually do.
    Our story begins with me and my girlfriend (I'm bi, sue me). We had been friends for a long time before we decided to commit to a romantic relationship, but we got along very well and found each other attractive, so eventually we decided it should happen. This girl, we'll call her Stella, was my first real, committed relationship with a girl, so everything that came with it was new and exciting; lots of dates, lots of time spent together, lots of mushy gushy stuff where, before, there was only flirting and the odd kiss or touch... and some new sexual stuff, too, so I enjoyed a lot.
    We were on a date when this whole thing went down, only this particular date wasn't much of a date at all. We had planned a movie marathon of the Star Wars films (of which she had seen none) in our comfiest clothes- I wore a long, soft black shirt and light blue jeggings, plus some comfy, pink, fluffy socks, and Stella wore... gosh, I don't even remember, but it doesn't matter. Probably some shorty shorts, since it was summer and that was what she always wore around the house when she wasn't going out. Anyway, halfway through Empire, Stella decided that we needed a break that went from stretching our legs to making out on the couch (with the movie paused, of course- I didn't want her to miss any of it). We had been at it for a few minutes when things began to heat up. She had begun to kiss my neck, which she knew I loved, and began to lift up my shirt, but, when her fingers brushed my back, I arched away, and she dropped my shirt.
    "What?" Her surprise was evident on her face; she was worried I didn't want it. "Should I not...?"
    "No," I mumbled, immediately embarrassed, "that just... tickled, is all." Stella's face immediately lit up with a mischievous smile, and I knew exactly what was coming. Stella had discovered a long time before this moment exactly how ticklish I was, although, unlike my friends who found the whole thing extremely funny, tickling me turned my girlfriend on, probably more than anything else we had done up to that point. She said she 'liked the way I squirm,' which... if she wanted a partner who would do that a lot, she came to the right person. ;P
    "Oh..." she said, her voice dropping to a low, seductive purr, "is that a problem?" As a matter of fact, it was. Stella and I had only been dating for a couple weeks at this point, and I was not comfortable enough with her house to use the toilet, as I had only been there a couple times- yes, I know such a hang up is childish, but it's lead to one or two arousing incidents, so I don't work too hard to fix it. The point is, having been there for the length of a movie and a half, my bladder was getting rather full in spite of my efforts to drink minimal amounts of liquid, and Stella's decision to tickle me now was highly unfortunate. 
    "Um..." I began, but before I could get another word out, she was upon me, tickling me mercilessly. I laughed, of course, but it was not a happy laugh, and, between fits of giggling, I continually begged my girlfriend to stop. 
    "Stella, please," I would say, or "Stop, stop, please, stop," or "please, please, please," but she wouldn't let up. Soon, she straddled me. I began to struggle and squirm, and this was just what she wanted. Stella began to tickle me with renewed energy, and I could no longer fit pleas between my laughter. All I could do was writhe, but eventually she let up and I caught my breath. "Oh... my... gosh..." I gasped. Stella looked at me quizzically. "I... can't... jeez, could you...?"
    "Tickle you more? Absolutely!" Stella said brightly, but she held off, waiting for my actual question.
    "Could you... give me a second..." I wheezed. I was by no means overweight, but no more was I in tip-top shape. When I regained my breath, I finally spoke up. "Stella..." I hesitated. I was going to ask her to stop, my bladder still aching softly from the effort of staying tense and keeping all the liquid inside me, but she looked so happy; blushing slightly, smiling widely, her crotch warm against my own. I knew she was enjoying this. I can handle a bit more, I decided. I nodded and her grin widened. Then she was back at it.
    It only took a minute for me to remember exactly why I had begged her to stop; my bladder muscles were getting weaker and weaker, and I knew that, if I let this go on for too much longer, I would have an accident right here, on my girlfriend's couch. I still had no intention of going to the bathroom, but I was convinced that, if she satisfied herself tickling me and gave up, I could hold it until I was ready to head home. I was wrong, of course, but I never got the chance to find out, because, at that exact moment, I sprung a leak.
    My eyes sprung open and a gasp escaped my mouth, momentarily stopping my giggles. I squeezed hard, and the leak stopped, but Stella's tickling did not. I knew that, at this moment, it was urgent that she stop. "Oh my god..." I managed, my mirth reduced by the horrifying realization that I may actually lose control, "Stel...la... stop... stop... please... I'm gonna pee!"
    "Oh, hush," she said, biting her lip, "you're only saying that so I'll give you a break."
    "No... no!" I pleaded. "I'm... serious... Stella, please..." she wasn't stopping. Another leak. This one was continuous, although tiny. Stella still wasn't letting up. "No, no..." I moaned, shifting back and forth, grinding against her in an effort to make her stop, doing my best to pry her hands away from me, but all my strength was focused in my bladder, and I couldn't. My desperate squirms only seemed to turn her on more, and she bit her lip, grinding back against me. "Please, please!" I bucked my hips, but she still didn't stop. Another big spurt, and I could feel my pants dampen. I tried again, revolting my hips against Stella, and it worked- she shifted... directly onto my bladder. I gasped as a huge jet of pee shot out of me and straight down my leg, wetting my pants to mid-thigh. I sat bolt-upright, and Stella finally stopped, backing up to avoid being headbutted. My hands flew to my crotch, but it was too late. "Oh, god," I mumbled, "oh god..." The pee wouldn't stop coming, no matter how I shifted or how hard I squeezed. I looked away from Stella, face burning, and noticed her floor- it was a sort of porcelain fake wood flooring. My pee wouldn't soak into that, so if I was going to wet myself, I would do it standing over the floor. I shoved my girlfriend off and stumbled off the couch, standing up on the floor, then grabbing my crotch and crossing my legs in a last ditch effort to keep from wetting myself completely. No good. The pee raced out of my bladder faster than ever, soaking my pants quickly, spilling into my cute fluffy socks, and then puddling on the floor. Since I had been drinking minimal amounts of water, it had a strong smell, and I was certain it would stain my lightly colored underwear and socks. I kept my back to Stella until the flow had stopped completely, then turned slowly to look at her, my face red with embarrassment.
    To my surprise, she was red too, but her face wore a look of arousal; she was still biting her lip and a lazy smile spread across her face. I looked at her, confused, and in response, she got up and kissed me deeply. "Hey," she said, still in the same deep purr, "that was... sorta hot." I gaped at her, in total shock. She had the same fetish I did?! "I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said you were going to have an accident," she continued, "but... well, let's get this cleaned up." True to her word, she helped me clean up, got me a pair of her sweatpants while we put the soaked jeggings in the washer, and listened intently as I spilled the truth- that I actually really enjoyed it myself- before watching the rest of the film with me.
    Did Stella truly have the same kink I did? Well, sort of... it turned out later that she quite enjoyed watching me wet myself, but not the feeling of doing it herself. I didn't mind, of course. I wound up wetting myself for her a couple other times, although, since these were intentional, they didn't make for such exciting stories. I was never afraid to use the bathroom at her house again, either. When you've had an accident in front of someone, I suppose asking to use their toilet is a pretty major step down. She and I are still dating to this day, and I have no intention of breaking things off any time soon. 
    Anyway, that was the whole story. If you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the comments, and check out some of my other stories, like "An Evening With Friends," which I actually referenced in this story, or "The Gates of Shambhala," one of my many fanfictions. I love writing stories for you guys, so if you have anything else you'd like me to do, feel free to let me know in the comments or by DM. Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon!
  21. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to rachelkirwan in [Female] JAV - Toilet Masturbation and Peeing.   
    View File JAV - Toilet Masturbation and Peeing.
    So this is a split-screen video of a Japanese woman masturbating on the toilet. On the left we see her whole body as she fingers herself and on the a ****NAKED**** close up of a vulva, which gets increasingly wet, and eventually pees, followed by clean up. 
    WARNING - The right hand screen is basically a close up of a vulva, you have been warned! **** ;)
    Enjoy,
    Rach
    Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 01/06/2018 Category Female videos Clothing  
  22. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to 8BitMike in Another (old) Custom by Rose   
    Hi all,
    A while ago I posted a custom video featuring a girl I worked with in the past by the name of Rose. You can find that here: www.omorashi.org/topic/36410-a-couple-meh-quality-custom-vids/. While I thought I lost the first video we did together, I ended up finding it while going through some old files on a secondary PC. I thought I would share since I know a lot of people here enjoyed her other video. I'll fully admit that the lighting in this video is not great and it's hard to see her actually wet, but her cute mannerisms and fun attitude still make this a pretty good video if you ask me!
    It's in webm format and can be played through modern browsers or VLC.
     
    rose1.webm
  23. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to tmivelaz in Videos found from pornhub   
    I've been searching around on pornhub and came across some videos. I did a search here of the title of the video and didn't get anything to show up for what I have found on pornhub. I do hope that these videos haven't been posted already and if they have been, I do apologize about the re-post of them.
    La cochonne fait Pipi dans son short.mp4
    Norwegian desperate pissing in leggings.mp4
    Orgasming while pissing my little panties (sorry so shaky!).mp4
    Peeing in white pants.mp4
    Pipi pantalon pyjama.mp4
    Sugar Thighs Pee Her Jeans.mp4
    Valeryandconyxx Masturbation And Wets My Shorts.mp4
  24. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to RavenEevee in Wetting my self   
    I didnt have socks on but you couldnt see my feet anyway XD 
    i also wish my pee came out that straight when i try to pee standing normal 
    wettingpants.mp4
  25. Upvote
    FestiveMint reacted to TheSpookyOne in First Ever Wetting Partner-In-Crime!!   
    OK here are 2 of them...
    **NUDITY WARNING** You do see some boobies in one of these, just giving the shout out to let people know!
    29112008118.3gp
    01122008120.3gp
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