garador

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About garador

  • Rank
    Fidgeting

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  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Ageplay
    Bathroom Control
    Humiliation
    Hypnosis
    Messing
    Public humiliation
    Sadism / Masochism

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  1. Honestly, I expect that the portion of your country's budget that goes to "art" is a rounding error. I'm not going to presume to tell you what your country's problems are, but I will presume to tell you that a few centavos going to silly artists is not one of them - and any politician that tells you otherwise is doing so to distract you from the real problems those politicians are causing.
  2. garador

    Other Fetishes?

    Oh my. All of that pretty much is my particular flavor of omorashi fetish - happening to other people rather than myself, mind you (though I've been known to RP as the one it happens to). I tend to characterize it as a BDSM flavor of omorashi, with wetting as both a submissive and a masochistic act. A couple other variants on that theme: Having to ask permission to pee your pants. Rationing toilet usage (you only get to use the toilet X times a day - if you need to pee more than that, see point 1). Rationing changes of underwear after wetting. (If done in real life, this has to be done carefully to keep it on the "safe" axis of "safe, sane, and consensual", what with the risks of UTIs, diaper rash, and whatnot.) Make it dependent on chance whether you get the toilet or not. As with all BDSM, of course, a submissive should be able to use a safeword for any of that, and set other hard or soft limits (no actual public wetting).
  3. garador

    Project Widowmaker

    Well, if I recall, FRMT stands for Fear Response Management Training - although bedwetting and some general incontinence seems to be in place, LivingInfinite's universe primarily involves women suffering from fear incontinence. A high FRMT rating but low capacity would mean that Astrid is better than usual at keeping those sphincters closed in combat situations, but a mission with a long duration would have her at a disadvantage in keeping her bottom clean.
  4. garador

    Implementing a Table of Contents

    I've been wanting to create blogs for a while myself. I think right now it must be locked to general users - certainly when it was first released it was only for certain contributors (Patreon, I think).
  5. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    One point that deserves explanation (I couldn't find a way to work said explanation into the narrative without especially blatant "As you know" narration): Why did Emily pee her panties in the lunchroom, when from all signs she could easily have made it to the restroom? The answer lies in the off-hand remark she made afterward: This school, like many others in the setting, has a strict system for access to the bathroom (impossibly strict, from the perspective of girls with overactive bladders). Each morning, every student gets one hall pass, one changing pass, and six "bathroom points". The hall pass, obviously enough, allows a student to leave class in the middle, and the changing pass lets them change any clothes that might need changing, However, a student needs "bathroom points" to be able to go to the bathroom at all. Two points are needed to enjoy the privacy of the regular restrooms; one point allows a student permission to use the potties in each classroom (these require you to pull your underwear down in front of the whole class). If one has an accident without permission, as Debbie did in the first part of the story, that costs you two points. (Pooping adds one point to each of these costs.) However, a student can earn one point by peeing her panties with permission (or two points by deliberately pooping herself); that's what Emily was doing in the lunchroom. Thanks to Emily's overactive bladder, she'd needed to pee after every class (and she'd had at least one accident), and by lunchtime she'd used up all her bathroom points; thus, that deliberate wetting earned her a point, which she'll be able to use to go to the bathroom some more later that day.
  6. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    There's a rough correlation of the curse's onset with puberty. The matter of what causes female incontinence hasn't been explored in much depth because it's a matter of religion, and when there haven't been much in the way of confirmed prophets of the gods for a few centuries, such things get mired in tradition and internal religious politics.
  7. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    The story continues! As the other students filed out of the classroom, occasionally glancing at Debbie, Father Nicholson beckoned to the girl. "Come here, my child," he said. Debbie nodded tearfully, let go of her skirt, and waddled over, acutely aware of the damp fabric that had glued itself to her crotch and rear, the wet cotton that rubbed against her bottom with every step, and the wet stain on her skirt that stuck to her legs. Father Nicholson knelt down until he was at eye level with Debbie. "How did this happen, my child?" "I, I don't know," sobbed Debbie. "One moment everything was all right, and then I suddenly needed the bathroom like I never have before... and then I raised my hand... and then I... I couldn't hold it a moment longer and I..." She choked up, the shameful memory of peeing her panties still fresh in her mind. The priest laid a hand on Debbie's shoulder. "Have you anything you need to bring into the Light of Day, my child?" "I... didn't think I do, Father... but I must have, right? T-that's the only reason I can think of why I... why I had an accident..." Debbie sniffled, her cheeks crimson with shame. "Perhaps it was pride, my child? Unworthy thoughts about Katherine's performance, by any chance?" pressed Father Nicholson. "M-maybe..." Debbie said doubtfully. "O-or maybe just pride in m-my own ability to hold it. I, I waited too long to ask permission..." She was uncertain what her sins could've been. She honestly couldn't think of any sin in thought or deed that would warrant such a dire penance from He who Watches, and so the only thing she could think of was the prideful sin of imagining herself too pure to have an accident. "Then, allow me to speak your penance," said the priest. Debbie swallowed and nodded, waiting in trepidation. Father Nicholson spoke formally, in the same tone he used to give the morning prayers. "The Light of Tavis has seen fit to hide itself from you, Deborah Abrams. He saw that your sin was so great that you no longer deserved the blessing of being able to hold your pee. Since He has never withheld that blessing from you before, you must surely bear His displeasure deeply, or else Hosiah's Curse is trying to place its hold upon you. And so, my child, as your penance, I ask you to give up your changing pass for today, nor to purchase another changing pass for the rest of the day. Since you could not keep your panties dry, they shall remain wet for the rest of the school day, and their dampness shall remind you to meditate on the sins you committed in His sight. May the discomfort drive off Hosiah's influence, and your endurance of it find favor in the sight of Tavis." Debbie's eyes went wide and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Her wet panties and skirt had grown cold and clammy, and if she couldn't use a changing pass, that meant that she would have to wear those soggy panties and stained skirt the entire rest of the day. But she couldn't very well say no - that would be prideful, an assertion that she knew better than the Father what her penance should be; and she would surely earn a worse penance yet. Aloud, she whimpered, "Y-yes, father," nodding. Father Nicholson laid his hand on Debbie's head. "May the light of Tavis shine upon you. Go in peace." Debbie replied, by rote, "May He light your path." She trudged back to her seat and collected her backpack, her sodden panties and damp skirt reminding her with every step that they had been peed in. Father shook his head. Poor Debbie. He'd had great hopes for her. As good as she was at theology, she might someday have been a High Priestess - not as prestigious a position as the male priesthood, but prestigious enough. But there was no place in the Faithful for a wetter; and he'd never known a girl who had been struck by Hosiah's Curse to gain Tavis's blessing once more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kathy and Jane were waiting for her, and Jane gave her a hug. "Oh Debbie, I'm so sorry," said the blonde, crying almost as much as Debbie was. Debbie hugged Jane tightly in return, sniffling, her cheeks burning in shame. The taller brunette touched Debbie's arm. She wasn't nearly as demonstrative with her affection as Jane was, but she was no less compassionate, and perhaps even more troubled by Debbie's accident. "You're one of the purest souls I know, Debbie," said the other girl quietly. "How could He forsake you like this?" Debbie shook her head. "I don't know, Kathy. I just... just have to trust in His will, I guess." Kathy bit her lip. "I... I guess you're right," she said, sounding uncertain. "What was your penance?" Jane asked quietly. "I have to go without changing for the rest of the day," Debbie replied. "What? That's awful!" said Jane, shocked, and pulled back. "How could Father ask you to do that?" Debbie shrugged, though her discomfort was evident. "His Will be done." Jane shook her head. "You don't know what it's like, Debbie. Going all day with filthy panties... it's horrible." She shifted uncomfortably, as if aware of the mess in her own panties. "But if, if you have to go without changing, then I'll endure the same for..." Debbie touched Jane's arm gently. "No, Jane. You're..." The dark-haired girl glanced down at Jane's skirt - a soiling accident was easier to hide from sight than a wetting one, but the smell was unmistakable, even if you didn't see the way Jane waddled when she walked. "You're worse off than I am," Debbie said politely. "You go get changed. Don't... don't worry about me. I'll see you in the lunchroom." Kathy said, "I'll come with you, Debbie. I bet everyone's going to be talking about it in the lunchroom, and you'll... you could use some support." Debbie smiled through her tears. "Thanks. I appreciate it," she said. Kathy was one of the few others who'd never had an accident in school; other students would be more reluctant to make fun of Debbie with Kathy on her side. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Wow, you too?" said Emily, as she sat across from Debbie at the lunch table. Debbie and Kathy had sat at their own table - even though Kathy's presence had indeed protected her from mockery, Debbie didn't want to face her classmates with a fresh accident in her panties - but Emily had come over to join them almost as soon as the other two had taken their seats. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be a wetter." Emily was a tiny blonde-haired girl, the shortest girl in the class - hardly surprising, being a year younger than everyone else - but her breasts were as big as Jane's, and seemed bigger yet on her small frame. Her own skirt was stained on the front just like Debbie's was, though hers had dried somewhat. "I... me either," Debbie admitted. Her soaked panties were even worse to sit on than they were to wear, and she squirmed uncomfortably. "Maybe He wanted to make an example of me. A reminder that everyone is sinful in His sight." "It doesn't seem fair, though," said Emily. "You always did everything right. For you to have an accident..." She squirmed in obvious discomfort. "Which reminds me. Miss Jones!" "Yes, Emily?" asked the nearby teacher, who was serving as lunchroom monitor. "I can't hold it anymore. May I please pee my panties?" asked Emily, matter-of-factly. "You may," replied Miss Jones, frowning. With no further fanfare, Emily got up from the table, walked to stand over a nearby drain, pressed her hand into her skirt, and concentrated. A fresh dark stain blossomed around her hand where she held it against her crotch, and a warm yellow stream began to course down her own pantyhose-clad legs, filling her shoes and flowing into the drain. Debbie and Kathy watched in bemusement. Emily had started having accidents in fourth grade - far younger than normal, especially since she'd already skipped a grade by then. And now she was one of the most notorious potty-pants in the whole school - not just for how often she wet herself, but because she seemed to be completely shameless about peeing in her panties as casually as a normal girl would use the toilet. In fact, Emily's lack of shame was so unusual that the priests had considered imposing additional penance on her, fearing she was in danger of becoming a Hosiah cultist. But the girl was so good-natured otherwise that they couldn't justify any such punishment; Tavism held that being incontinent was its own punishment, and the priests would be on shaky theological ground trying to add punishments of their own devising. If Emily didn't feel very punished by peeing her panties on almost a daily basis, that was between her and Tavis. Presently, the girl finished wetting herself, and stood up straight. "Thanks, Miss Jones," she said, and sat down at the table again, making a face. "Yuck, that's gross," she said, sounding only mildly uncomfortable as her freshly damp panties went squish underneath her. "But I've had to pee like a million times today, so I needed the points. Speaking of which, when are you gonna use your changing pass, Debbie?" "Not today," said Debbie. "It's my penance. Father said I should stay wet till the end of school." "What? That's stupid," said Emily, making a face. "You're too good, you don't deserve to spend the whole day wet like that. That's for real potty-pants like me. Father Nicholson is a meanie." "That's what I said," said Jane, as she joined them. She was walking a lot more comfortably now, now that she'd changed out of her own soiled underwear. "But I guess Debbie doesn't think she can argue with Father Nicholson." "It's not my place," said Debbie. "Perhaps the Lord Tavis will see my obedience to His will and see fit to let His Light shine on me again." "Yeah, right," Emily said. "I prayed day and night after I started having accidents, and look at me now. Peed my panties twice today already and I'll be lucky if I can keep my new pair dry till I get home," she said, through a mouthful of ravioli. "You better watch out, Kathy, you might be next." Kathy nodded uncertainly. "I... might," she admitted. "If even someone like Debbie can fall under Hosiah's Curse..." "We don't know it's the Curse," Debbie said hurriedly. "Not yet. It might just be a one-time thing." Jane quickly changed the subject - she was all too aware that she'd never got her bowel control back, and she wasn't very happy with Tavistan teachings on incontinence in any case. "Debbie, what'd you put for that question about the Twenty Years War?" Debbie was grateful for the distraction from her clammy underwear. "I said that the Tavistan siege itself actually lasted only two years..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Debbie was looking a good deal more uncomfortable as they finished lunch. "Your panties itchy?" asked Emily, with her usual bluntness. Debbie blushed. "Y-yeah," she said, reaching under her skirt to pick at her damp panties. "Yeah, that's normal. You gotta do the no-diaper-rash meditation," said Emily. "What do you mean?" asked Debbie. "I've never heard of that..." Jane said, "It's not something we usually talk about with girls who, uh, can still hold it. What you do is, you close your eyes, and you concentrate on making the itch go away." "And that works?" said Debbie dubiously. "No prayer to Tavis or anything?" "You can if you like," Jane said. "It doesn't seem to be necessary, though." "I don't know," said Debbie. "Sounds a bit like witchcraft..." "Believe me, if you don't do it, it gets a lot worse," said Emily. "Especially since you're gonna have to wear 'em that way the rest of the day. Pray to Tavis if you think that makes it safer." Debbie nodded, and closed her eyes. O Tavis, I pray, though I endure the wetness of my penance, please take from me the itching... After several seconds, Debbie found that the itching began to subside, then fade completely. The dampness between her legs was as unpleasant as ever, but only the cold and clammy sensation of wet underwear remained. "See? Much better," said Emily, reading the expression of relief on Debbie's face. "Just do it again whenever it gets itchy. I'm sure Tavis doesn't mind as long as your panties stay yucky like He supposedly wants." "Please, don't blaspheme like that," Debbie said crossly. "Sorry, sorry," replied Emily. Debbie relaxed slightly, and headed to class. Though her panties were still soaked, her faith remained strong; Tavis would deliver her from her suffering... or else He had another plan for her. The Lord moved in mysterious ways. More to come...
  8. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    Revising the first post as follows (for added humiliation) - summary: Debbie is required by tradition to hold her skirt between her legs while she wets herself. Additions in red. An additional part will follow later today.
  9. garador

    The Truth or Dare Disaster

    @i-need-to-pee, can you tag this as "loli"? I for one have no trouble with that sort of thing, but some people do, and the tag will help them skip this thread. Maybe "shota" as well, assuming Jake is the same age as Zoe.
  10. garador

    HD Wetting & HD Diapers News

    Get well soon!
  11. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    I was waffling between that and https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monolatrism (which is the word I used). The sense I got from Wikipedia was that henotheism might merely acknowledge the possibility of other gods and doesn't necessarily condemn their worshippers, whereas monolatrism says "other gods definitely exist, it's just that our sect chooses to only worship the one." The adherents of Tavism might even adamantly insist that it is not polytheistic - the other gods are not worshipped, merely venerated (a concept I'm shamelessly borrowing from Catholicism, again without any intent of suggesting that Catholicism is itself anything like the fictional religion I'm describing).
  12. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    I'll send you a note with more, but the short version is that there is something sinister at work, and has been for a very long time. The point of the RPG will be unraveling that ancient conspiracy, though I'm contemplating multiple endings.
  13. garador

    The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue

    I haven't fleshed out all of the details, but the official faith of Tavis is probably best described as somewhere between monolatric and polytheistic (worshippers direct their primary worship to Tavis alone, but acknowledge other divine powers and occasionally direct prayers to them). The practices of his faith are moving toward monotheism around Tavis alone. There is also an "evil" moon goddess named Hosiah who is deemed to be the supernatural cause of female incontinence; her name will come up later on. (All deity names come from a name generator, by the way.) There is not much in the way of commonplace divine magic in the time this story is set, no outright undeniable miracles. This will begin to change early in the course of the RPG, should I ever write it. (When it does change, Tavis's Domains, in 3e terms, would be Law, Protection, and Sun.) One other thing: the actual Tavis is not as cruel or even as misogynistic as the religious traditions in His name may make it seem. The reasons for this, again, are something I intend to explore in more detail later.
  14. garador

    Panties under diapers!?

    I don't have experience with wetting myself... but I'll concur with others that "panties under diapers" is more of a panty-wetting thing than a diaper-lover thing. Basically, it's for if you're into panty-wetting but need to bow to practical concerns - it's if someone wants to wet their panties in a public place without other people knowing (or if puddles or pants stains would otherwise be inconvenient).
  15. Author's note: I've been thinking about omo RPG ideas, and a broad storyline has come into my brain. Right now, I'm planning for the RPG itself to feature young adult characters - but in the setting I've envisioned, girls start having accidents in middle school or late elementary school, so I've written some stuff involving my main characters' first accidents. There will be no explicit sexual content involving these underage characters, but severe humiliation will be featured, including public exposure. Future installments will contain substantially more messing content. Reader discretion is advised. All deities depicted herein are an intentional work of fiction on the author's part. Any resemblance to other objects of worship, actually existing or otherwise, is probably a shameless ripoff from existing real-world or fictional religions but is not intended to reflect upon anyone's sincere beliefs or faiths. The Unstoppable Tide: Prologue - Deborah's Story Debbie returned to her seat to the sound of polite applause from the other students, and an approving nod from Father Nicholson. Her religious studies presentation had gone very smoothly, she thought. Next up was Kathy, the second-best student in the sixth-grade religion class, and Debbie's only rival - if either of them had been proud enough to consider each other rivals. But pride was a sin, and both of the girls strove for humility in all things. Debbie wore her raven-black hair short, tied in twintails with pink hair ribbons. She'd begun to blossom into womanhood, but her body was still small and petite, and she was still wearing a camisole under her white school-uniform blouse; it might be many months before her parents decided she should wear a training bra. As Kathy began to speak, Debbie became aware of the urge to pee. She thought nothing of it, at first - even the purest of heart would find their bladder filling with sin, and she would just need to hold it back until the end of class, as she usually did. She put the need from her mind, and offered a brief prayer to Tavis, Lord of the Sun and Heavens, on behalf of her less fortunate classmates - the girls who weren't so lucky as her, who had accidents in their panties on a regular basis. As the moments passed, though, the urge increased swiftly, far more swiftly than Debbie could remember having before. She crossed her legs and redoubled her efforts to hold it, but suddenly she really needed to pee, she needed to pee badly. She tried to focus on Kathy's presentation, in the hopes that her classmate's description on the Holy Dicta would bring His blessing upon her, but it was no good. Debbie needed to go to the bathroom, and no amount of prayer or meditation was doing anything to make her need to pee any less. Debbie glanced at the clock - nearly a half hour to go! At the rate her sudden and inexplicable need to pee was increasing, she couldn't possibly hold it that long. She would have to pee very soon, and if she tried to wait until the end of class, she'd end up peeing her panties. She'd have to use her hall pass, for the first time since second grade. Kathy was still talking, though, and Debbie felt certain that if she interrupted her classmate for such a base need, His Light would surely forsake her and she'd wet her panties right then and there. Debbie resolved to wait until Kathy's presentation was done - but her bladder ached with the burden of her pee, and it yearned to break through her self-control and make her pee her panties in front of everyone. Debbie squirmed, doing a potty dance in her seat, slowly becoming aware that her bouncing and fidgeting was attracting attention. Father Nicholson's eyes had fallen on her, and Debbie blushed, realizing that he must know how badly she needed to pee. Her ears burned - she thought she heard a murmuring behind her, she knew that the students behind her were staring at her. Debbie never needed to pee during the class period, everyone knew that - and now here she was, bouncing and wriggling, badly needing the bathroom, clearly moments away from peeing her panties. Kathy hesitated for a moment, looking at Debbie's struggle to hold it, then began speaking faster. She'd guessed that her friend was in serious danger of a wetting accident, and that her own presentation was the only reason Debbie hadn't asked to go already. She tried to rush through the rest of it, so that Debbie would have a chance to pee in a toilet instead of her panties Debbie's bladder swelled, her urethra ached with the strain of trying to keep her pee in her bladder instead of in her panties. Debbie realized in dismay that even the hall pass wouldn't be enough now - she was bursting to pee, she was on the verge of peeing her panties, if she didn't get to pee soon she was going to pee her panties - and if she tried leave the classroom and go down the hall, she'd completely wet herself before she got halfway there. Debbie looked at the children's potty in the front corner of the classroom. It was there for girls who couldn't hold it all the way through class and had used up their hall pass, but there was no privacy - any girl who used the potty had to take her panties off in front of everyone. Debbie blushed at the idea of doing that - but other girls had to do that, and right now it was either that or use her panties in front of everyone, and- Debbie realized, through the throbbing ache of her bladder, that Kathy had stopped talking. Debbie's hand shot up frantically. "Thank you, Katherine," said Father Nicholson, looking out across the classroom. "Who's next - yes, Deborah, what is it?" said the priest gently. "Father, I need to pee, may I please use the potty?" Debbie blurted out, blushing anew at the prospect, her thighs crossed tightly. She bit her lip, struggling with all her might against the unbearable pressure, but she could feel herself leaking, letting a little pee soak into her white cotton panties. O Lord, please grant me a few moments more, Debbie prayed frantically. "This is unusual for you, Deborah," said the priest, sounding concerned. "Are you sure you don't want to just use a hall pass?" "No, Father, I need to pee really bad," wailed Debbie. "M-may I please use the potty?" She bit her lip harder and whimpered, as another spurt of pee dampened her crotch. If she leaked much more, she'd get in trouble when she used the potty... "Certainly, my child," said Father Nicholson, stepping aside and gesturing to the child's potty in the corner. Debbie rose to her feet, took a step - and stopped, losing control again and leaking even more into her underwear. It was too late now - she'd wet herself too much, and she'd be counted as having an accident as soon as her skirt went up. There was only one thing she could do now: she'd have to ask to pee in her panties. Debbie opened her mouth - and shut it again. Even trembling with the unbearable need to pee, even with her panties already damp, she couldn't bring herself to ask to go to the bathroom in her panties, not when she hadn't peed her panties since preschool. And yet... "Deborah?" asked Father again, sounding even more concerned. Debbie swallowed her pride and opened her mouth again. "Father, I c-c-can't hold it anymore, may I please-" And suddenly, it was too late even for that. Her bladder let go entirely, and now she was peeing uncontrollably, peeing her panties, soaking her underwear completely with shameful dirty wetness. A murmuring rose behind her - she's peeing her panties, Debbie heard, she's having an accident right there, Debbie's peeing her panties, never thought I'd see her wet herself... Debbie's eyes welled up with tears of shame - but there was nothing she could do to stop it now. She was going pee right where she stood, she was going potty in her panties, and she couldn't hold it even a little bit. She closed her eyes and stood with her feet an inch apart, as tradition required for a girl having a wetting accident. Pee soaked through her panties, ran down her legs, stained her white pantyhose a shameful yellow, flooded her shoes, overflowed her shoes, and spread in a hot shameful puddle around her feet, slowly making its way from her desk to the nearest floor drain. The astonished murmuring continued behind Debbie as she continued to wet her panties. It seemed to take forever, but finally the flood of urine flowing through her panties slowed to a trickle, then to a slow dripping as her exhausted bladder finally finished drenching her panties with pee. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she heard Father speak the formal words. "Deborah, what have you done?" Debbie whimpered, found her voice. "F-father, I've peed my panties," she said, her lower lip trembling. "And did you have my permission?" Father Nicholson looked like he was almost as shocked as Debbie, speaking on autopilot as he went through the ritual of accident shaming. "N-no, Father, I peed my panties without... without permission," Debbie said. She knew the ritual all too well, she'd watched her fellow classmates say the words when they'd had an accident in class, but now it was her saying them, she was the one having to admit to peeing her panties without even the grace of the teacher's permission. "Very well. Stand in the corner please, Deborah." Father Nicholson's voice sounded sorrowful. Debbie had been his star pupil - even the boys weren't as good students as she was - and now here she was, having an accident in her panties like any other little girl. Debbie nodded meekly, and began to walk down the aisle of desks, her pee-filled shoes going squish, squish with every step. Every eye turned to watch Debbie as she did the walk of shame to the front of the classroom, turned to face the rest of the students. Father Nicholson cleared his throat. "Deborah..." Debbie whimpered in shame. "S-sorry, Father," she said, knowing all too well what else she had to do. Her hands hesitantly reached for the hem of her skirt, and her blush intensified as she lifted the skirt above her waist. She began to sob in utter humiliation as she displayed the yellow-stained crotch of her freshly peed panties for the whole class to see. She was especially aware of the boys' eyes on her wet panties, and she wished she could hide the her underwear, hide the humiliating pee stain she'd soaked her panties with, but that was the rules - any girl (and it was almost always a girl) who peed or pooped her panties in class without permission had to display them for everyone to see. Such was the will of Tavis: a girl who lost control of her toilet training, who went to the bathroom in their panties without permission, must expose their shameful dirtiness. The murmuring of Debbie's classmates grew louder; Father cleared his throat emphatically to silence it. "Quiet, please. Deborah's shame is between her and Tavis. Jane, would you please give your presentation?" Jane nodded, and bit her own lip; she was not one of the lucky ones. The pretty blonde didn't usually wet herself, but she had been pooping her panties almost weekly, ever since that horrible day in fifth grade - and Debbie was almost the only one who'd shown her any compassion. The fact that Jane had begun to bloom early in other ways - she was one of the few sixth-graders to have any appreciable breasts - was hardly sufficient compensation for her constant, and frequently futile, struggle to keep from soiling herself. Jane wished she could do something for Debbie now, but the rules were the rules. Jane swallowed, waddled carefully to the front of the classroom - she had, in fact, pooped her panties in last class, and wasn't eligible to use her own changing pass until the end of this one - and began to speak, sparing a brief glance at Debbie standing behind her, trembling hands holding her skirt up and keeping her sodden, still-dripping panties on display. To be continued...