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Found 1,554 results

  1. I'm going to share my most desperate experience ever. This was almost 10 years ago, when I was about 19. One Friday, I figured it was a good day to do a measuring hold. I had the house to myself for the better part of the day, so it was the perfect time to do this. The premise was simple, hold it for absolutely as long as I possibly could, then pee into a large bottle and measure. Normally, when doing a hold I usually just held it until it was painful, then went, and by this time I could do this without much fuss. This time I intended to push myself to the point of wetting myself, except I would be prepared with a bottle when the time came. I planned this for a Friday, as I knew from prior experience that my bladder would go on strike for the next couple of days afterwards, especially pushing it as far as I intended to. I planned on wearing a Goodnite for this. Despite the fact that they were utterly worthless at holding my full bladder, I still liked the look of them, as I had for 4 years running now. After drinking a considerable amount of water over the course of an hour and a half, I went to the store to buy a new pack of Goodnites. Right before I got to the store, I was at a 5/10. Then suddenly it increased to a 7/10 and I had a very large spurt in my diaper before I could stop it. Intrigued, I thought there was no way all that water could have made me that desperate just yet. I figured I probably should have emptied myself before I started (my urges seem stronger the more concentrated my urine is), so when I got to the store, I went to the nice, private bathroom, let the rest out, and threw my used Goodnite away. I arrived back home with a new pack, and was at a 6/10 or so, so the water was now going through me. I put another diaper on, started working on my computer, mass organizing my files to keep myself busy, as I kept drinking to become fuller, until I had drunk roughly 50 ounces worth. Over the next half hour, I became increasingly desperate, held myself, squirmed around and crossed my legs, until finally I was at a 8/10 when I could no longer concentrate on my organization efforts half an hour later. I prepared my bottle, a 32 ounce Gatorade bottle, taking the cap off and putting it on the bathroom sink, but kept holding. I also set several thick towels on the floor from the door to the bathtub, just in case I was leaking when I went to measure in the bathtub. I was now holding myself occasionally, pacing, crossing my legs. I was desperate. I had to bend over a little to take some pressure off of my bladder. I could see my bladder protruding below my navel, and it was very painful. Risky though it was, in case my parents came home unexpectedly, I took off my pants, shirt, and underwear, and walked around just in a Goodnite. The pressure from their respective waist bands was just too much. In any case I would have wanted to remove them before measuring anyways, so as to not get pee all over them. My resolve wavering like it usually would at this point, I began to consider that this may be all that I could hope for, at a 9/10. So I took a picture of my bulging bladder with my crappy digital camera. Yes, that is actually a Girl's Goodnite. For some reason, I thought they worked better for things like this. After I took the picture, I looked at it real quick... the word 'picture' ran in my head... and suddenly an idea came to me. I turned on an episode of one of my favorite shows at the time, which was an hour long, commercials and all. I made myself a goal. I would hold it in, no matter what, until the end of this episode. One hour wasn’t unreasonable, I thought. It would also take my mind off my bladder. So I started watching, taking the remote and putting it up high on a shelf with a ladder, which I would no doubt be unable to carry back into the room near the end of the episode (this was recorded on a DVR... no need to fast forward it now...). So began my most desperate hour. I drank another 20 ounces of water or so (so about 2 liters worth over the course of about 3 hours by then), then I watched, in increasing pain and desperation. Over the course of the next 10 minutes, I held myself, danced and squirmed around, sat on my heel, sat on the corner of my desk, straddled the rim of the bathtub, etc. After those 10 minutes, nothing seemed to work to bring me relief, as I found the threshold for 10/10. I then tried to lay down on my back in bed and hold myself, but my own belly skin, starting to sweat from the effort, pressed down on my bladder and caused a great deal more pain. But I stayed like this for a few seconds, amazed at how far the bulge stuck out in my quite thin form. I wanted to take another picture, but I was shaking now, and I couldn't stop moving enough to get my finger on a shutter button or hold a camera, never mind a clear shot. I tried to lay on my side, but that just made my bladder visibly shift to that side and hurt just as badly. It looked like a water balloon being held by the neck. Laying on my belly was obviously out of the question, but desperate for relief I tried anyways... the pressure on my dick might have helped me hold it, if only that same dick wasn't now being compressed my bladder and the bed, pushing into my bladder, which hurt like hell far before I put more than a little weight on it, so I had to stop. So I moved to the very top of my bed, propped myself up with pillows, and tried to lay, half bent at the hips. This helped for a few minutes, as pee tried to run down my dick and I clamped down with all my strength and willpower and tried to watch the episode. After 5 minutes, even this position was too painful, so I got up and paced around, doubled over. I then sat on the edge of my chair and slouched back as my bladder settled down for a few minutes, and moved my legs up and down, and side to side randomly as I panted and whimpered, no longer able to watch the TV. I cradled and felt how full my bladder was, still moving my legs around as I could not stop even for an instant. I tried, and a little pee trickled out. I was easily as full as I had ever been. My bladder looked and felt like a small cantaloupe was protruding from my pelvis. Because of me being rather thin, it looked that much bigger in me, especially if I sucked what little gut I had inwards. That actually seemed to help relieve a bit the pressure, but I couldn't breathe if I kept doing that, lol. 25 minutes into the episode, my bladder was back to protesting the agony it was in, and began to spasm. I was now squirming non-stop, rocking back and forth, tilting forward as much as my bladder would allow. I was still moving my legs around, but I couldn't cross them, as that put too much pressure on my bladder, which was now in near agony. I grimaced and whimpered, and held myself with each spasm of my distended bladder. I was very firmly at a 9.5/10 now. Any slight drop of my guard or concentration would have me wetting myself right there. A minute later, and I could no longer sit, it put too much pressure on my bladder. The remaining time was the most desperate I've ever been in my entire life, before and after. In another 5 minutes, I was staggering around my room, clutching at myself with both hands, at my mattress with one hand, back to me, at my chair with one hand, back to me, leaning on my desk for support, back to me; I could not stop moving even if I tried, and every movement seemed to send more pee cascading down into my poor bladder. I let go with both hands to support my increasingly exhausted self, and immediately started to leak out despite my best efforts to hold it back, and this was with my bladder not in spasm at the time, so I had to grab my crotch again. This was definitely my limit when not using extraordinary methods to hold it back. It felt incredible to leak out like this. I was in agony, I was no longer in full control, but I was loving every minute of it. I kept moaning to myself "Oh God I have to pee." I was panicky, I could feel the adrenaline. My heart was hammering fast in my chest from the effort, as if I were in the middle of running a mile... just what I needed, more blood for my kidneys to filter the water out of. It almost felt like it was hammering in my bladder too. 35 minutes into the episode, and I felt like I was about to explode. 10.5/10. This pressure hurt almost as bad as when I jammed my middle finger trying to catch a basketball the wrong way. My pee would not stop running down my dick, and I had to put all of the pressure that I could, with whatever means necessary, on my crotch to keep the pee inside of me, and I wasn’t going to be successful for much longer. Every movement caused my bladder to shift what felt like 10 feet, when it was really a half an inch or less, as what felt like a bowling ball was suspended inside of me. I was wracked with unbearable pain in my bladder that made me moan and whimper. I couldn’t lay down, stand up straight, sit down upright, or cross my legs, or even hold myself properly because these all put too much pressure on my increasingly bulging bladder. Even straddling the edge of my bathtub somehow caused the bottom of my erect dick to press into the bottom of my bladder, making the pressure as unbearable as every other method I could think of. I couldn’t even breath very deeply because it caused more pain. "Oh, hurry the **** up and end so I can pee!", I moaned to the TV, while I leaked uncontrollably for a split second, as if it could do anything about it. Then I started to get near irresistible urges to bear down every time my bladder was in spasm. It was pain beyond anything I imagined would be possible during a hold. It was pain past endurance, as I moaned in agony and leaked out for a second as my sphincter released by itself, before I grabbed myself with both hands to stem the flow to a slight dribble. I struggled to resist the urges to push by breathing in and out shallowly and quickly, as my very distended bladder wouldn't let my lungs move down any further. I didn't like this. I felt if I bore down too hard, I would make myself explode, or hurt myself some other way. I breathed as if I were in labor... in fact this must be what it felt like to be in labor, I thought. I really, really wanted to make it to the end of the episode, but my body decided it simply had enough. It was now doing everything in its power, against my will, to force my pee out, and the sensations brought me to my knees. I kneeled at my bedside, my upper body resting on my mattress, as I held myself below the base of my penis in my crotch with both hands, trying to not let my forearms, the bed frame, or even so much as a speck of dust or a slight breeze touch my bulging bladder. I was uncontrollably rocking my hips from side to side, as I still could not stop moving, but I couldn't move my legs if I was knee-bound. My bladder was now in a continuous spasm, a completely rock solid mass extending two inches out and up to my navel. I kept trying to clamp back down with my sphincter, but every time I tried, it was met with uncontrollable urges to remain relaxed that I could not overpower, even with sheer force of will at the thought of wetting myself fully on my carpet. My willpower to withstand the pressure, and my concentration on holding myself, was failing. I was powerless to hold back two long spurts my Goodnite that saturated the front all the way to the edges during the next couple minutes. It was 45 minutes in, I was on the verge of completely wetting myself uncontrollably now. Still unable to get off my knees, I kept making grunting noises and gasping in agony, about to wet myself, and I decided this was the time to let it out and measure. Even though it was only 45 minutes into the episode, 15 measly minutes short of my goal, I could not bear it, nor hold it in, any longer. I shuffled, slowly, still on my knees, towards and onto the towel-laid bathroom floor just by my room. With every "step", I could feel my bladder moving, every jolt causing more pain and small leaks. Grabbing the bottle, I set it on the edge of the bathtub. My Goodnite was now quite wet from all the leaks. Then I felt a most peculiar pain just start to form above the right-hand side of my pelvis in my backside. I had been studying the biological aspect of Omorashi for some time now, and thought immediately what this had to mean: I was about to start backing up into my kidneys. This was it, this was my safe limit. I determined to my self long ago that, if I ever felt anything like this, and I was severely bursting to pee, I would stop holding, and go, no matter what. In public with no bathrooms, and no chance to get to one, I would have let go where I stood. Just as I climbed into the bathtub, I felt my poor, distended, agonized bladder expedite the process for me with an almighty spasm. In any case, that self-imposed limitation didn't matter anyways. I absolutely could not hold it for one minute more, and if I tried to delay, It would all end up in the wrong place. Continuously moaning and on the verge of leaking again despite twisting myself up like a pretzel, holding myself over a thick Goodnite to try to hold it long enough to get in a position to measure, it was driving me insane. I was exploding. I was actually about to wet myself uncontrollably, despite my best efforts, for the first time in memory. I managed to grab the Gatorade bottle with one hand as I got on my knees, tore down my Goodnite, and performed a complicated set of gymnastics to maneuver my fully erect dick, which now dripped continuously into the bathtub, into the opening, Not at all an easy task, considering I could not stop moving in desperation, and my bladder wouldn't let me bend too far in any direction at the same time. I got it, just as I couldn't hold it back another second, and it came out by itself. Almost clear, very slightly straw-colored pee slowly but surely came out, and was about to moan in relief. Until I stopped peeing. I couldn’t quite figure out why until I heard air hissing from the bottle. I released the seal that I had inadvertently made with the tip of my erect penis, which had enabled the pressure in there to hold it back, and my stream burst forth. I peed for the longest time. Holding myself up in the very awkward position I was in was too hard, but after a minute, my bladder allowed me to bend in just the right way to be able to go in an easier position. I peed another two minutes, moaning, still unable to stop moving because I was still desperate, until my bladder released all that it could in its overstretched state, just under 2/3 of the bottle. I waited about 3 minutes for my bladder to contract back down and regain enough strength to push the rest out. It was actually somewhat difficult after a couple minutes. It regained that strength alright, as a minute later I quickly put my now more maneuverable dick back in the opening just in time as I let out another quick, uncontrolled explosion, feeling even greater relief as I uncontrollably bore down yet again. I was afraid I might overfill the bottle, but a few seconds mater I had felt I had emptied myself enough so that would not quite happen. I finished up, panting, waiting a few seconds, then letting go one last time and pushing what ever pee I could out into the bottle. The result was that I had filled a 32 ounce Gatorade bottle to just an inch and a half away from the top. I’d measured nearly a liter of pee. I had held considerably more until my first major leaks, if the puffy Goodnite bulging between my knees was taken into account. I was impressed with myself to say the least. My bladder was not. PS, by sheer luck, I was able to grab these images from another holding forum that I used to be a member of... only ever made three posts there, with nowhere near this kind of detail. That forum is now totally dead, had to find it via archive.org. I was too exhausted to get out of the bathtub immediately. I pulled on my wet Goodnite, and sat there, on my knees, resting with my arms on the edge of the bathtub, my breathing and pounding heartbeat slowly returning to normal. I remained there as I could hear the end credits rolling on the show I was watching. 5 minutes after the credits, my bladder, exhibiting "Post-hold volume reduction" once again, took matters into it's own hands and forced another full-force explosion of pee into my overfilled Goodnite, with it only catching a little bit before cascading out the bottom sides into the bathtub. So great was the relief that I orgasmed in the diaper with very little provocation afterwards. Feeling just rested enough, I stood up. I took the soaked, dripping diaper off, and carefully threw it in the trash. I proceeded to take a roughly 20 minute shower, uncontrollably wetting myself 15 minutes in after trying in vain to hold it back. After I got out, I proceeded to re-dress myself, but this time in a Depends taped brief, stuffed with another Goodnite, that I had set aside, not for the hold, but for the obvious protection I might need. I left it untaped for now. I cleaned everything up, took all of the garbages out, and afterwards sprinted back inside and just made it to the toilet 20 minutes later. I got into bed in utterly satisfied exhaustion, after having answered a call from my parents telling me they would be home in about 6 hours or so, my bladder quite irritated from the experience, but I didn't care. I set my alarm for 3 hours from then, in case they came home earlier than that, as I knew I would fall asleep from the glorious exhaustion I felt. I taped the brief up securely, then I started the episode up again to watch it properly, but fell asleep half way through... for about 15 minutes, until my bladder screamed at me to wake up because it was about a second away from exploding again. I didn't even have time to process what the hell was going on, or even to gasp, as I lost all control and exploded with even greater force into the new diaper for about a minute. Not even a vice grip could have stopped this full-blown bed-wetting. My pee was completely clear, hardly any smell at all, which I supposed was a good thing, since I could keep using the diaper. The relief overwhelmed me again, and I orgasmed again, before falling asleep yet again. I slept for a good hour this time. I'm not sure if I slept-wet, but I wouldn't have put it past my bladder to force the issue. By the time my alarm did go off, an hour and a half after I had already woken up, I had flooded myself a good three times before it felt like all of the water had run through me, and my diaper looked almost fit to burst. I massaged my still sore bladder as I went about my business, still wetting myself, but this time when I felt like it, as I was able to exert some more control. I wore Goodnites legitimately to bed the next few nights, afraid I would sleep wet in the presence of my family, but my bladder was kind enough to wake me well before it exploded, and I was able to walk urgently into the bathroom from then on during the next few days, only twice wetting myself like a small child in uncontrolled desperation when the bathroom was occupied for more than 5 minutes, until my bladder had mostly calmed down about 4 days later. Now, if you'll excuse me, all this reminiscing and typing has made me really need to pee.
  2. So I wanted to do a hold last night so I began to drink 4 glasses of water right before sleep. I woke up in the morning needing to pee bad. I was very in the mood to hold a river inside my bladder so I got myself 1 other glass of water and another glass of milk... About an hour later I couldn't hold it anymore and my bladder was bulging out so much xD I had a lot of fun but now my bladder hurts a bit even if I don't have to pee at all.
  3. I hope everyone here can help me out. I've been trying to add clips and screenshots to the new Pee Movie Database of adult men peeing in their pants. If you know a scene, please let me know (PLEASE let me know also the episode and time it appears if you can. Thanks!) Here are some places that show what I've already collected: https://omorashi.online/pmd/wetness http://mikisit.tumblr.com/tagged/shows http://mikisit.tumblr.com/tagged/movies
  4. Ok, so I have wet myself in everything I own, but try to be really good about cleanup. When it is time to get rid of a pair of pants, shorts or underwear, I'll give them their last respects. I either save them for when I go away and plan on some alone time, discarding the evidence, or at home I will rewet them until they're no fun to rewet anymore. Do you have a ritual for old clothes?
  5. This is my first time posting on this site. I've been a lurker up until now. I decided to chronicle some of my experiences from when I was younger. Now, in my middle school days, I started doing things such as drinking lots of water, and holding it until I was too desperate to take it any more. It was my “Omorashi Renaissance.” Normally I didn’t hold it to the point of pain, but one time I had to go so bad it hurt after waking up, but didn’t go right away. My increasing experiences in holding had made me more comfortable with the urges to pee. Quite literally I was training my bladder to hold more. I laid in bed, enjoying the feeling of how full my bladder was, and pressed down on it, making me leak past my closed sphincter for the first time in memory. I laid on my front, and held myself, waiting a while longer to pee, then went to the bathroom after almost reaching a 10/10. Now that I've recalled the dull, uninteresting parts during my transition into adolescence, let me give you my two most memorable experiences from my childhood. ---------- For my first experience, I was... classes in 4th grade were out in portable classrooms, and at the time I was taking a medication that made me thirstier… so naturally I had to pee more often. This meant going all the way back to the main building, to the bathrooms, which were in the middle of the school. We also had some punch card or something for bathroom breaks, and if we didn’t use it all up by the end of the term, we would get a reward. Ordinarily, I didn't have to go during class, except for during lunch and the usual breaks. Well, one day, I didn't to go to the bathroom during lunch. By the time I sat down, I realized my mistake, but it was too late now. I was at a 5/10. Over the next hour, it got worse and worse, until finally, during a story time, I was at an 8/10. I’d never had to go this bad before. I was squirming like mad in my chair and holding myself, and finally I couldn’t take it any more. I got up and brought the punch card to the teacher in the middle of the classroom, which had all of the desks surrounding it in a circle around the outside of the classroom. I was holding myself and dancing, and everybody and their mother could see I was desperate. Thankfully, the teacher took one look at me, and took the card without question, so I was able to leave and go to the main building. By the time I was down the stairs and on the grounds, my desperation had decreased to a 5/10 for no apparent reason. I obviously hadn’t wet myself because my pants (and upon further inspection, my underwear) were still perfectly dry. It’s as if my bladder was trolling me for not going during lunch by making me get up and stand in the middle of an entire class of onlookers to ask to go. Naturally I made it to the bathroom without an issue, but it was rather embarrassing. ---------- When I was 10, I had a friend, a couple years younger than me, who would come and stay with me for the afternoon once a week, while they waited for their parents to get off work. I lived within walking distance of the school, but my friend lived in an adjacent town. One or two days he was at my house, he would go to the bathroom, then 30 minutes later he would go again. Meanwhile, I would come home from school, desperate, because for whatever reason I hadn’t gone all day. I had this stubborn streak of waiting to go until I was dancing around and holding myself, much to my parent’s annoyance. It could be while using the computer, watching TV, anything. I would wait until I was at an 8/10 before I would go pee. This was no different when he was around. I suppose I considered it a matter of personal pride that I wasn’t going every half hour, so I held my pee the entire time he was there, which could have been hours. My parents once made me go to the bathroom when they saw me holding myself and dancing while he was there, telling me it wasn’t good to hold it that long. Well, finally, his mother got another sort of arrangement so that he wouldn’t have to stay at my house. But he was a friend, and we often played Twisted Metal 2 on my Playstation 1 together (God I miss that game), so I was going to miss him. But that still didn’t keep my pride from making me hold my pee for the two hours he was there. I already had to go quite a bit since we got home, I was maybe a 5/10. The minutes ticked by, and just half an hour into it, I was squirming while trying to blow up the AI with my character in Twisted Metal 2. I was starting to get desperate to go, but still I kept holding, and kept silent about it. As the time dragged on for what seemed like hours, my need to pee grew worse… 6/10. I started grabbing myself to make it easier to stave off the urge. 7/10. I missed a shot and fell off Antarctica because I was getting impossibly distracted by how desperate I was. Just over one hour in, I was at an 8/10, and was just about as desperate to pee as I had ever been. But I was determined to hold it until his parents came. My left hand was permanently glued to the front of my pants, and I could not stop squirming as I sat on the floor next to my friend in front of the TV, who appeared to take no interest in my plight. As my urges peaked, my sphincter kept threatening to release by itself. The next hour was driving me mad. The urge was so strong I thought I might burst. I could feel it in my teeth, I imagined I was that character, Johnny or whatever his name was, in Ed, Edd, and Eddy where his pupils started floating upwards as pee filled his eyeballs. I had no idea how I was managing to keep it in, I was so desperate. I kept feeling my sphincter loosen it’s grip when another wave of desperation came, and I held myself for dear life. I was going to wet myself if he didn’t leave soon, I thought. I was perfectly capable of getting up, walking into the bathroom, and going, but I just would not do it. I didn't want to go. I would not succumb. Then, just as I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, I started to feel a new sensation in the middle of my pelvis. Pain. It was starting to hurt. I started to panic in my head. Is this what my parents meant when they said it wasn’t good to keep holding it? Was I hurting myself? But my pride still somehow kept me from going, until finally, a few minutes later, I heard a car pull up in our driveway. I was in mild to moderate pain now, and was still holding myself for dear life. I ushered my friend out of our house a little more forcefully than was polite, dancing around with my hand in my pants the entire time, as I had to go NOW. Never before had I been this desperate to pee. When the front door closed, I speed-walked straight for the bathroom, tore my pants down, and took the most satisfying piss I had ever taken up to then. I was... um, 'drained' after that, and I realized that I had just held it that long without wetting myself. I had held it rather long before. My childhood was filled with times where I was sitting at the computer, desperate to pee, but not willing to get up because I wanted to keep doing what I was doing, until finally I couldn't take it any more. But this memory has stuck in my mind more than anything. Because this is the day that I had discovered the thrill of holding it... I liked that feeling! This was the day I discovered Omorashi.
  6. Alas, this doesn't involve actual wetting, but I just stumbled across this when I was reading today and thought the second to last panel might be relevant to someone's interests. The idea of Peter Parker desperate to piss in front of Iron-Man and Captain America is the stuff of dreams. Obviously, not my own work and the credit goes to writer Dan Slott and the artists and editors listed here. My apologies if this isn't the correct place to post this.
  7. dudelobowski

    female Floating in Pee

    So this happened about 2 years ago during the summer. I went to a music festival called Shambhala, up in British Columbia with some friends of mine who I had gone with our first time the, prior year. We planned on camping for 4 days, as the festival goes for quite awhile. Shambhala is one of the top 10 biggest electronic music festivals in the world and goes for almost a week. We were going to be there for the 4 concert days. The headliners were Excision, Rezz, and a few others, it’s been awhile. This story happened on the 3rd day I was there. So we were getting ready to head into the festival around 8PM for our first set. The festival goes all night until about 8AM so we’d be in there a long time and I planned on wearing a Dry 24/7 diaper into the festival for the night. Since we were all sharing a tent, there was almost no privacy to change in there, but I eventually found a time where everyone was out doing something and I got it on. I put my diaper on at about 7:30 and I had a pair of plastic pants that I pulled on over the top to contain any leaks. I was worried that I didn’t have a diaper to change into so when this one got full, I’d have to go commando for the rest of the night. I was also worried about throwing the diaper away inside the festival and how I’d be able to separate from my friends to change out of it. Regardless, I put it on and threw on my festival clothes over the top and finished getting ready with everyone else. About 8 hit and we were about to walk in when I realized that I didn’t pee before putting my diaper on, which was a mistake that would make me spend the entire time in a wet diaper. I decided to wet it then while I still didn’t have to go that bad so that I could really control where in the diaper I was getting wet. I have a very analytical mind when it comes to using and wetting diapers, I like to get as much use out of them as possible so I try to start wetting them in places the pee won’t naturally get like the very top front and back. Since I’m a guy I start with my equipment up to get the front and when it’s soaked, move it to point down. So there I am not even into the festival yet with a wet diaper. Boy was I glad I brought the plastic pants. Once we finally got rolling, we got to the stage and danced for awhile. I was wearing my 2L camelback because I was enjoying some party favors that mean you need to stay hydrated that night. About 9PM we started feeling things and I needed to pee again, which I did while dancing slowly with my legs wide apart. Nobody noticed a thing even though I was standing with my friends. We went from stage to stage and as I needed to, I wet my diaper, thinking better slow and steady than as a flood. It was all going to come out anyways. As we danced I drank water from my Camelback and finished it in 2 hours. By 10PM I needed to refill my water and I went alone because my friends would be in the same place. While I was out I gave my diaper a quick check, it was getting squishy but not overly so yet. I hurried back and we danced for another hour. By this time I had to go again but I held it, thinking that I could prolong the life of the diaper by keeping it at it’s current state for awhile. I finally went when at around midnight our group split and I was with only one other friend. We went to refill our water packs again too. I’d drunk almost 4 litres of water at this point, and sweated a good portion out. When we were walking to the next stage he tapped me on the shoulder and said “Do you smell that? It kind of smells like pee.” I freaked out and my mind wasn’t in the greatest state to come up with excuses. I lamely said “I’ll bet somebody was just peeing over there on the side of the path.” He gave me a look that was like “Come on dude” and he said “I don’t think so, I haven’t seen anybody do that at all” (The festival culture is so against that anyways and I doubt somebody would, which made it all the more obvious.) I still told him that I didn’t know what the smell was and he let me go with a knowing look. I think that he thought I just peed my pants but was too embarrassed to say anything. Which I prefer to knowing what was really going on. By this time my diaper was really soggy and it’s no wonder that he could smell it. When I finished with that last pee, I flipped my equipment facing down so that I could use all the butt and bottom now. When I reached it to flip it, I could tell that it had leaked a bit into the plastic pants because the outer shell was damp inside the plastic pants. It was an impressive size diaper bulge as the padding had swollen up quite a bit. About now I was worried that my diaper wouldn’t make it much longer, and it really was full, but I knew that when you’re standing, diapers can take more punishment because it can pool up in the low parts and I had my plastic pants on. I planned on using it until it was so soaking wet that it was leaking down my legs a bit and then take it off. It already felt like I was pretty soggy. We went to another stage and I was holding my pee for about 45 minutes before It got so bad that I decided that I had to go. I let it out in small bursts about the rate of one every five minutes or so to spare my diaper, which was torture because my bladder was filling at about the same rate so it felt like I still had to go really bad. Every time that I let out a burst I expected it to be the one where I felt leaks, but it kept holding everything although I’m sure the plastic pants were getting some use. Whenever I let out a spurt it felt like the pressure inside the diaper went up a bit and I was astonished. How could this diaper keep holding up? I seriously thought this diaper would tap out hours ago. I was surrounded by a warm soaked diaper and it felt fantastic. I found a chance to slip my had in my pants and feel the outside of the plastic pants and there was a small pool of pee at the bottom that had come out of the diaper. None had gotten out yet though so I kept it on and let out another spurt. Finally at around 3AM I was letting out another spurt and felt the first drip down the inside of my shorts leg and immediately cut off the flow. I now had to decide what to do, it was late enough that I might be able to hold my pee until we left and let it all out in my diaper. So I held it, and held it and held it. I pretty much stopped drinking water about then too but I’d get thirsty and occasionally sip water. By the time 4:30 came around I was dancing as much from the need to pee as from the music. I was so desparate to let go but I knew we’d be heading out after this set which ended at 5AM. The sun had started coming up and the sky was in that dawn phase right before it crests the horizon so there was lots of light to see by. I decided I had to pee too badly and that I needed to let out another spurt to make it back. So I spread my legs and did my best not to leak. I let out about an 8 second spurt which was much longer than I thought because I couldn’t get it under control fast enough. The pressure in my diaper went up again and I knew it was leaking, but my plastic pants held it all. I’m sure it just went straight into my diaper and leaked immediately into them. There was just no absorbency left, I felt like I was literally floating in pee. Letting out a spurt honestly made my desperation way worse but I managed to keep on holding for the 30 minutes. I’d made it! Time to go back! Now the only problem was getting there. We were at the stage the farthest from the entrance, and our campsite was way out on the edge because we’d gotten there late. My friend and I were walking back, well I was more hobbling, and I can hear my pants crinkling really loudly. My friend didn’t say anything about it though so I think I was good. I was in agony with my need to pee and I decided that I’d stop at the porta potties right before our campsite to change. I eventually make it, this was probably the hardest walk of my life. In the pre-dawn cold, holding pee became a herculean effort and I did my duty admirably. I had to let out another spurt at one point and I felt the drips on my leg and saw them come out the bottom of my shorts but couldn’t tell if anyone else had seen. I finally got to the porta-potty and said that I was gonna take a dump so that I could be in there awhile. I went in and immediately started pee dancing and holding myself as gently as I could so I didn’t squeeze out any pee. I decided that I needed to take off my pants, so I did, leaving my shoes on. I finally had my first good look at this diaper and plastic pants combo. Pee dancing all the while. It was a warzone. The diaper was yellowed and had a faintly translucent color like it was stretched to the limit. It was as puffy as I’ve ever seen a diaper get, all the crinkles were smoothed out, this was the fullest diaper I had ever made. My plastic pants were tight and stretched by the swelling of my diaper, and every other crevice below my leg holes was filled with pee. I made a snap decision and sat down on the toilet and drained my plastic pants using a finger to make a spot it could leak from. Once my plastic pants were empty, I decided to take them off because all they would do would be leak all over. Once I had them off and over my shoes. I frantically sat down on the toilet with my diaper still on and started peeing. I thought it would be instant relief, but I had to go so bad that I didn’t even feel like the pressure was going down for about 10 seconds. It was the best and most pent up pee I think I’ve ever done. The amount that I’d drunk (at least 4 litres) and the amount of time I had to hold was excessive. The pressure inside muy diaper went up more than it had the entire time as I began letting it out. Pee immediately started flowing from the leg holes of my destroyed and saturated, ironically named Dry 24/7. I must have peed for at least 2 minutes, every time I thought it was tapering to a stop, another wave would hit and I’d keep going. When it was finally done, I sat on the seat for a minute and just breathed heavy. I was pretty turned on at this point and I opened the front of my diaper being careful not to spill anything. The padding was so thick and heavy I couldn’t believe it, so hot and full, it was great. Because of my party favors I ultimately was unable to finish myself but it was ok as I think about it a lot to this day. I wrapped up the diaper and was astonished by how heavy it was, and very squishy too as the insides were practically a liquid themselves. I snuck out to the side of the porta-potties and threw the diaper into a trashcan there. I put on hand sanitizer and went to bed, exhausted and pleased. This was the longest and most I have ever peed into a diaper and no matter how hard I‘ve tried, I cannot reproduce this night or the performance of my diaper again. But it was definitely amazing. Thanks for reading!
  8. I hope this hasn't been posted already. But on The Site Formerly Known As WetPantsBoy™, as of March 6th, only people with a paid membership will be able to view videos. Information about this can be found here. If there's any videos on the site you quite like, I'd suggest ripping them now. :T
  9. So, I'm sure this has happened before. You're taking a piss, you relax all your muscles, let it flow, and you also end up relaxing a bit too much and also release your sphincter. Well, unlike most of my previous experiences, this will detail a few instances of such from my younger years, cause those are really the only times its happened when I didn't want it to. The first time this had happened was in preschool. I was about five or so at the time. This was, if memory serves, in the first week or two of my stay at the good old YMCA (Hey, that rhymed.). The teacher had decided for the day we've have a Potty Day, which was basically a day to help the younger kids in the class (there were like twenty of us I believe), get used to the toilets there, get them better adjusted to using the toilet when needed (and probably get the rest of used to it (Cause you know how young kids can get with unfamiliar toilets), which would involve more frequent asking of students if that had to go, checking for accidents, and not just in line to use the bathroom, etc. This Potty Day thing wasn't a common occurrence, happening once a month at best. So, knowing this, after being dropped off for the day by my mom, I quickly made my way into the bathroom. Making sure no one was coming in, I went into one of the stalls, and took off my diaper, stashing it behind the toilet seat cover thing. A little while later, I felt the need to pee. As someone had gone into the bathroom just a moment before, I was SOOL (Shit out of luck) on that. And since the only in the outside lobby, I decided to find something or somewhere to pee. Thankfully for me as I walked about, my need to pee wasn't so bad as I was obvious, like holding myself or anything. Alongside that, the teacher and her aides were busy checking the other kids or monitoring. So, with the only bathroom unavaliable, and my need to piss mounting, I eventually found a discarded toy truck, one of those Tonka dump trucks I believe. Not wanting to risk it by tugging my pants down a bit, I simply squatted over the truck, as if I was playing with the toy car that was next to it, and relaxed. My pee spurted out through the front of the black shorts I was wearing, and filtered through my shorts in a stream into the truck's cargo bed, a soft sputtering sound heard as pee hit plastic. As I was doing so, I felt something shift in my guts, and then move out into the back of my shorts. As my pee stream died down, I realized I hadn't done my morning poop yet, and had thus done so in my pants. Knowing that if anyone smelt it, they would tell the teacher and then the teacher would check each of the students, I maneuvered the truck behind me, and tugged my shorts down a bit, tipping my mess into the truck's cargo bed. Fixing my shorts, I went on my way to do some arts and crafts. ------------ This second omo-riffic event occurred in kindergarten, as will the third and last one I can recall at the moment. I had needed to pee, and we were currently doing some coloring activity, one where we had to color a picture of the Virgin Mary (I still have it somewhere if memory serves). Putting my crayon down, I raised my hand. One of the teacher's aides, who would also be an aide for my third grade teacher, Mrs. Pina came over, asking what was up. I told her I had to go to the bathroom, and she smiled, and said I could. Thanking her, I pressed my hand into the front of my pants, and made my way into the bathroom, which was painted a light blue color, even the tiles. In fact, the only thing there I didn't think was blue were the toilets. But anyway, I turned my attention to the urinals. Prior to this, I had never used a urinal before. Sure, I knew what they were, but prior to that, If I had to pee, I either did it in my diaper, the toilet, or some container of some sort, so I wanted to try it out. Tugging down the front of my khaki slacks, and the front portion of my diaper, I began peeing. However, once again, it seems I relaxed too much, and the back of my diaper soon became browned, metaphorically speaking of course. Not really minding at this point in time, I simply finished up, pulled my diaper and pants up, washed my hands, and continued on with my day, ------------ This last one occurred shortly after this. I had, as in a few other tried to go a day diaperless, mostly because this was the last of the ones I had brought with me. It was around recess that I felt the need to pee. As I had stashed away my diaper in my backpack, and thus couldn't think of a plausible way to get back into the classroom, so I was out of luck there. Thankfully, luck seemed on my side, for some of my classmates asked if I wanted to join them in a game of hide and seek, to which I agreed. I was one of the hiders, and hid in the cool, shaded area beneath the playground. It was there that I decided to pee as well. Still crouched down between the smaller slide, as it had more cover than the twisty slide, I tugged the front of my pants down a bit, enough so I could pee, and began doing so. It was then my need to poop made itself known, however this time, I managed to get the back of my pants down enough to avert a total accident, and simply dumped out what had made it into my pants
  10. Sapphire3619

    He's Doing So Well

    I actually started writing another story yesterday, but I decided the scenario was too similar to one's I've done before and the chaptered one I plan to do next, so I decided to go with this one. Hope you like it! *** “Oh, Logan!!” Logan held back a sigh, and instead pasted a smile on his face, poising his notepad in front of him. Based on the tone of Mrs. Haskins’ voice, he already knew what she was going to say, and it wasn’t going to be her order. “How’s Jada doing, honey? How’s your mom? Has your dad been able to make it up there to see them?” “They’re doing OK,” Logan answered, starting his patented vague update. “The doctors say Jada’s numbers are going in the right direction.” “That’s wonderful!” Mrs. Haskins beamed. “We’re all praying for her and your family.” “Thanks, Mrs. Haskins.” Logan paused for just a second, for politeness. “Can I take your order?” Having fulfilled the societally-mandated duty of checking up on Logan’s family, Mrs. Haskins and her friend ordered a couple of club sandwiches and fries. Logan noted the meals down carefully and took the order back to the grill. Of course, it wasn’t just at work that Logan had to answer near-identical questions about his family. Ever since 10-year-old Jada had been diagnosed with leukemia, it seemed like every adult in town – at school, at the diner, at the grocery store, wherever – wanted to stop Logan to express their sympathies and ask how Jada was doing. Logan understood, but when the diner was busy, he just wanted to do his job. Now nearing the end of his senior year in high school, Logan had worked at the Silver Spoon Diner for almost two years. It was owned and run by Mike and Joanne Neeley, a local family who regularly hired high school students to work as servers. It was a small but busy place, with one long counter and a few tables and booths. Logan took orders, served food, poured drinks, and generally helped keep things moving, especially on weeknights like the current Wednesday. It was just before 8:00, and it was just Logan, Ned the dishwasher, and Trey, the Neeley’s youngest son, working the grill. Trey had just finished his junior year at college and was home for a few weeks before starting his summer internship. Having been raised in the diner, Trey (and his siblings) always helped out when they were home. Logan didn’t know Trey too well, but the young man seemed nice enough. At least he didn’t make constant comments about Logan’s family. He just let Logan do his job, which was all Logan really wanted, at least for a few hours per week. But it was a small enough town that Logan could never really escape well-meaning people who wanted to ask questions and express their support. Logan set drinks down in front of Mrs. Haskins and her friend. As her turned away, he heard Mrs. Haskins mutter yet another common refrain of the past few months. “He’s doing so well. His parents are lucky to have him.” Logan closed his eyes briefly as he rounded the corner. “…doing so well…lucky…” Adults said it all the time these days. And with every person that comments on how well Logan was holding up, how wonderful it was that his parents didn’t have to worry about him, Logan’s soul calcified just a little. At 18 years old, Logan was plenty independent and mature for his age. He loved being an older brother, and he doted on Jada. When she’d been diagnosed, Logan had naturally made the unspoken decision to help however he could. As their mom had moved 4 hours away to be with Jada at the children’s cancer ward, and their dad had taken on extra work to help pay for expenses, it turned out that Logan’s best option for helping was to take care of himself – keep working, getting himself to school, and continuing to cover his own expenses, so he didn’t have to ask anything of his stressed parents. He’d Facetime with Jada at least once per day, to try to cheer her up. He hadn’t been able to visit her yet, since he worked every weekend, but he always made time to respond to her texts. So yes, Logan’s parents were lucky to have him. He was well aware of that. And the pressure to remain helpful and unobtrusive was drowning him on dry land. But Logan couldn’t afford to drown or breakdown or otherwise stop. He was graduating in a few weeks, and he’d already been accepted to an out-of-state college, prospects that were overwhelming enough for any high school senior. With his sister’s cancer and his parents’ completely understandable tension, Logan barely even knew where to look. Instead, he just kept his head down, studying for his finals and working. As long as he kept busy, he could handle the pressure impinging on him from all sides. “Order up!” Logan blinked his eyes open and stepped up to the counter in front of the grill to grab Mrs. Haskins’ sandwich platter. He smiled as he placed the food down, then walked out from behind the counter to check on the customers in the main lobby. It was one of those oddly busy weekday nights, when a steady stream of customers comes in at just such intervals that Logan never really got a break. Now, with the sun setting, Logan noticed for the first time that he had to go to the bathroom. Logan frowned unconsciously. The feeling of fullness low in his abdomen felt both unwelcome and out of place. He hadn’t had a spare second to think about his body’s needs until right this second, but now that he was aware of how long it had been since he’d visited the restroom, the sensation became an unavoidable irritant, like a rock in his shoe that he didn’t have time to remove. The bell above the door rang, signaling the entrance of another customer – a small group of girls from Logan’s school. Logan’s smile was automatic as he grabbed a stack of laminated menus to take to their chosen booth, but as soon as he turned away, his face fell. Under other circumstances, Logan would’ve just called to the manager (Trey, currently) that he was taking a quick break, but with only one server and one person to work the grill, Logan didn’t feel comfortable leaving the floor empty of workers. So he just kept working, for the next hour, keeping up with the steady flow of customers – seat, answer questions about his sister, order, food, check, clean up – all the while, feeling a growing sense of unease with the weight of his bladder between his hips. Any time he wasn’t actively interacting with customers, in those brief seconds as he walked between tables and the kitchen, Logan’s mind reeled. His need was a problem that he couldn’t solve, and therefore, was an issue his brain couldn’t seem to process. In between service activities, he felt sick and whiny, like an overtired kid. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying fruitlessly to release the increasing tension from his body. But there was still work to be done, not overwhelming, but constant. Nominally, the diner closed at 10, but like most locally-owned places, the Neeleys would stay open as long as there were customers. With each jangle of the door, Logan felt his chest grow tighter as the frustration of not being able to take a bathroom break pulled his psyche like an overstretched rubber band. All of a sudden, it was 9:45, and Logan was cleaning up the middle booth in the front. He heard clattering of dishes from the back, and he blinked, as if waking from a dream. He looked around to see that the dining room was empty – the table he was cleaning had been the last one. Logan let out a long exhale, bracing his hands on the table. The brief moment of relief jolted his bladder, and he reflexively pressed his thighs together. After regaining his composure, he finished wiping down the table and lifted the basin of dirty dishes. He just had to deliver the basin to Ned in the back, and then he’d finally be able to pee. “Everyone gone?” Logan jumped slightly at the sound of Trey’s voice when he pushed through the swinging door to the back. “Um, yeah,” he answered, clenching his pelvic muscles tightly to make up for the shock. Trey nodded, scraping off the grill. “I won’t lock the door just yet, but we can start closing down. Can you roll some silverware for tomorrow?” “Sure.” Logan had responded without thinking, his habit of obeying authority and being helpful practically mechanical at this point. Before he could even consider backpedaling and asking for a break (not that he would ultimately do that, but he would’ve considered it), Trey had already turned away, going to scrub down another part of the kitchen. Logan felt his lower lip start to tremble, and he bit down hard. He felt awful and strained, but quickly became irritated at himself. This was his job; he was being paid to work until close, and that included helping set up for the following day. Logan continued his way to the dishwashing station, setting down the basin next to the sink. Ned was almost finished with the last batch – he’d be able to finish what Logan brought him within minutes and be done for the night. Logan cringed with inadvertent jealousy, but he didn’t say anything. He just reached around to the basket of clean flatware on the shelf. At least Ned kept each utensil in a separate section, so Logan wouldn’t have to dig around to fine one each of knives, forks, and spoons. Grabbing a package of napkins, Logan situated himself behind the front counter, so he could keep an eye on the door. Rolling the flatware into napkins was a mindless job, and he could do it quickly, but at this point, he couldn’t stand still. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, occasionally rubbing his thighs together, and frequently, nervously looking behind him to make sure that neither Ned nor Trey were somehow staring at him. They weren’t, of course, but Logan’s nerves were frayed and his bladder was full, and logical thought wasn’t a strength of his at the moment. Just as he was finishing the last few flatware bundles, Logan heard Trey come out from the back. “It’s 10. I’m gonna turn off the outside signs and lock the door.” Logan could have cried tears of joy at Trey’s pronouncement. At least he wouldn’t have to serve any more customers. He’d just finish these last rolls, and… “Ned, you can go when you’re finished back there. Logan, can you double-check the ketchup bottles on the table, and then you can be done, too?” Logan’s stomach clenched, and he felt a strong surge from his bladder. He shoved his hand into his crotch behind the counter without even checking if Ned could see him. He wanted to whine. He wanted to writhe. He just wanted to pee, damnit! As the obedient, rational part of his brain was saying “Checking the ketchup bottles will only take a few minutes, and no one else is here, you can go as soon as you’re done,” the emotional, overwrought part was moaning in unintelligible agony. But still he moved, setting the basket of rolled silverware on the kitchen counter and heading out to the front of the diner to check the condiments on each of the tables. He heard Ned call good night, but didn’t respond. By some minor miracle, none of the ketchup bottles were low enough to require refilling. Logan slumped with relief at the last table, grabbing between his legs again for reassurance before he headed to the bathroom. He rounded the corner down the hall, nearly crying with exhaustion. He couldn’t believe how long he’d been holding it, and he was so grateful to just be done. He grabbed the door handle… Clunk. Locked. Trey had already locked the bathrooms for the night. Logan had an accident right then and there. Just a little one, a brief, completely uncontrollable gush of urine that he felt soak right through his underwear and black pants. He instantly shoved his hand between his thighs, gripping tightly against the warm, wet fabric. Breathing hard, Logan stayed hunched over, clenching tightly for several seconds. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, he knew that he could just ask Trey to open the bathroom, and he’d be fine. But he wasn’t listening to that part of his brain right now. He couldn’t. His desperation overtook every cell of his body. He could handle everything in his life except having to pee so badly he was forced to hold himself like a child. Choking on unshed tears, Logan hobbled out the door into the parking lot. He’d just drive home, he’d be able to pee at home… But he couldn’t move. His keys were in his pocket, but he was leaking again. He was standing right next to the driver’s side door of his car, but he couldn’t move. Both of his hands were pressed against his dick, and he couldn’t move, or he would lose all control. Whining and panting, throat raw from repressing sobs, Logan wound his legs together stubbornly. His refusal to give up was matched only by the utter futility of his efforts. Logan let out a moan as the last of his defenses crumbled and he began to fully wet himself. He felt like his insides were collapsing. He was swallowed by the moment, caught in a whirlwind of wordless shame, hot liquid coursing down his legs. He could only whimper, brokenly, painfully, as urine forced itself from his body. Every breath Logan took was shaky. He couldn’t tell when he actually stopped having an accident because he was trembling so badly. “Logan.” Blinking tears out of his eyes, Logan looked up to see Trey, standing in the middle of the parking lot, staring at him concernedly. “I…” Trey had walked out as Logan was wetting his pants, too late to do anything about it, but definitely in time to see the unmistakable trails of wetness shining under the streetlamps. Seeing a teenager have an accident was bad enough, but hearing Logan’s cracked, anguished voice, only able to rasp out a single syllable nearly broke Trey’s heart. “Come on inside and change,” Trey offered, the keys already in his hand. “I…I can’t…” Logan was trembling visibly. “You still have your school clothes, right?” Trey knew that Logan came to work straight from school, and he made the correct assumption that he didn’t wear his polyester work pants in class. Logan nodded mutely. “Just come change inside,” Trey insisted, gently but firmly. He turned and walked back to open the diner before Logan could attempt to say anything else. Vision still blurry with tears, Logan pulled his own keys out of his pocket, hands shaking. He was drained and defeated and all sorts of other feelings that he couldn’t name if he’d tried. He pulled his backpack out of the car and headed back inside. The lights were on, and the door to the bathroom was propped open, but Logan didn’t see Trey anywhere. Head down, he slunk into the bathroom, unable to stop the shuddering feeling in his chest. With the bathroom door closed behind him, Logan slumped down onto the toilet. For the first time, he made no effort to hold back the tears coursing down his face, but he did try to keep the sound of his cries to a minimum. He couldn’t take it. He knew that there was nothing he could do now but change and go home, but the shame of peeing his pants was unbearable, at least for now. Logan wept and sniffled for a few minutes, just long enough to get through the worst of his misery. As soon as he could piece together a coherent thought, he inhaled deeply and wiped his face across the back of his arm. The rational, demanding part of his brain was telling him that Trey was generously keeping the diner open, and he couldn’t make him wait any longer. He stripped off his gross, sopping pants and underwear, ran some wet paper towels up and down his legs, and slid on his jeans from school, swallowing disgust that was bordering on self-loathing. Rolling up his wet pants as best as he could before shoving them into his backpack, Logan washed his hands, then cautiously opened the bathroom door. He knew he should than Trey, but a bigger part of him was hoping that the college student wasn’t there, so Logan could just sneak out and go home. As he stepped out from the hallway, though, Logan saw Trey sitting at the counter, two plates in front of him. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled gently at the puffy-eyed teen. “Here, man.” Trey gestured toward the plates. “You look like you could use some pie.” Logan hesitated, torn between not wanting to offend Trey and desperately wanting to just go home. “Peanut butter’s your favorite, right?” Trey encouraged. Logan’s stomach growled audibly, giving him away. Shoulders slumped, he hoisted himself onto the stool next to Trey. The two young men ate in silence for a few moments, and the creamy peanut butter pie really did make Logan feel better. During his long, break-less shift, he hadn’t gotten the chance to eat, either, even though the Neeleys always encouraged them to help themselves, taking at least bites here and there when it was busy. Logan heard Trey draw in a breath beside him, and his momentary relaxation evaporated. “So, Logan-“ “I’m sorry,” Logan interrupted, softly but nervously. “I didn’t mean to…I just…” “Hey!’ Trey shook his head, face etched with pity. “Don’t worry about it, Logan. It was just an accident.” Logan flinched at the word and stared down at his plate, too embarrassed to speak any further. “No, I was going to ask-” Trey gazed sincerely at Logan “-how are you doing?” Confused, Logan looked up. Trey had just said that it was an accident; was he asking if Logan was sick? Trey did his best to keep his face neutral, even though he practically ached with sympathy for the broken teenager sitting next to him. Logan was so lost that he couldn’t even understand someone being concerned for him. “It occurred to me,” Trey went on, shoving another forkful of pie into his mouth, “that everyone in here for the past few weeks has asked about your sister or your mom or something, and that’s great,” Trey swallowed, keeping his voice light, “but I haven’t heard anyone ask how you are.” Logan’s shoulders tensed upward, and he poked at the last bite of his pie with his fork. “So I figured,” Trey continued, correctly assuming that Logan wasn’t quite in a place where he could describe his own feelings yet, “that if no one is asking how you are, then maybe you’ve somehow gotten the message that you’re not allowed to not be OK. Or that somehow everything else matters more than how you’re feeling or what you need.” This last comment struck Logan like a finger to the sternum, pointed and personal. Of course he should have known better, how stupid did he have to be to let himself get to the point of- “So I figured,” Trey repeated, interrupting Logan’s rambling thoughts, “that I should really tell you that that’s not true.” Trey paused here, staring meaningfully at Logan, so that the teen could feel his gaze, even without looking up. “I can’t even imagine how hard it must be.” Trey’s voice was gentler, now. “With your sister being sick and your parents worrying about her, and you’re worried about her, and it’s your senior year, so you’ve got all of that regular stuff, and then you’re working and basically taking care of yourself, too.” Hearing it out loud – and from someone else – was like stepping out from a steam room for Logan. He could breathe, he could see, he could be seen. Trey watched as tension visibly melted from Logan’s muscles, but the teen still didn’t speak. “Anyway,” Trey bit down on his last bite of pie. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry I haven’t asked before. And I know I’m only here for a few more weeks, but I’m here if you ever need anything, and I know Mom and Dad are, too.” Logan had put his fork down, knowing he wouldn’t be able to swallow over the lump in his throat. Trey reached over and patted Logan on the shoulder. He was a hugger, himself, but he didn’t know Logan well enough to be sure that would be helpful. Logan exhaled, deeply grateful for the reassurance, but the breath turned into a wide yawn. He covered his mouth, embarrassed, but Trey just grinned. “Not to sound too much like my mom, but it’s late, and you have school tomorrow,” Trey chided. He stood from the stool and picked up the plates. “I’ll take care of these; you go home and get some rest.” Logan slowly slid from his stool, feeling sore, like he’d finished a long workout. The skin on his legs felt stiff, and he knew he’d have to shower and do laundry when he got home. Despite Trey’s reassurance (and the delicious pie), the consequences of peeing his pants threatened to creep back over Logan. “Hey!” Trey said bracingly, reaching out to clasp Logan’s shoulder again. “You good? Do you need me to stay?” Logan raised his eyes to look at his earnest coworker. Trey really meant it; he could tell. And that was enough. It wouldn’t fix everything, of course. Logan still had a lot to face over the next few months, but it was enough for tonight. It was enough to assure him that Trey understood, that Trey didn’t blame him for his accident and wouldn’t tell anyone about it. It was enough to take just a tiny bit of the burden off of him, enough so that Logan could have the strength to make it home and clean up. Logan flashed the barest of smiles at Trey, and Trey nodded in response before heading back to the kitchen. Sighing, Logan walked back out to his car, exhausted but feeling steadier than he had in months. Maybe he wasn’t doing “so well.” But he was doing what he had to do.
  11. Working in a shoe shop. For a few months I had a job in a shoe shop. It was a smallish shop but the only one in the town so at certain times of year it was fairly busy. I enjoyed the job but this particular day I enjoyed it even more. The doors were wide open and the shop was empty and quiet and I could hear a boy and what I assume was his dad approaching. It was about a week or so before Christmas and near the end of the day. The boy was about 8 and his dad seemed a little harassed. The boy was saying how he HAD to buy something for his mum but the dad seemed to be keen to get to the supermarket along the road. Anyway the child managed to convince the adult to come into the shoe shop where I was working alone that afternoon. The boy came running towards me asking me if we sold anything he could buy for his mum for Christmas. I needed to make some sales so I was delighted to show him some fluffy slippers we had displayed. The boy shouted to his dad who was hanging around the door looking quite sweaty and frustrated. Finally his dad came in but immediately sat down by the window telling his son to hurry up. I never thought much of it since there could have been any number of reason why he wanted his son to hurry so I concentrated on the little boy who was so excited and wanted to look at all the slippers we had. He was putting his hands inside to feel the fluff and admiring the colours and designs when all of a sudden his dad came out with ‘son please hurry up I really really need to pee here!’ Of course at that point I turned and noticed he was bent forward on the stool with his hand resting at the top of his leg. The boy either never heard or wasn’t caring as he carried on looking at the slippers and asked his dad if mum would maybe like shiny shoes too. At this the dad sounded even more frustrated ‘son, I have to pee so bad. I need to find somewhere to go before I wet myself. We need to go NOW’ He was so uncomfortable looking and his face showed he meant exactly what he said. I wanted to keep the child longer but I was also worried about the mess that could be about to happen on the stool and floor so I went over to the child and suggested he could maybe come back later once his dad had been to the toilet. I took the child by the hand and lead him back to his dad. The man looked at me right in the eye and whispered ‘thank you’ which sent shivers right through me. As they left I whispered back ‘I hope you make it’ though in truth I know the chances of that were actually very slim indeed.
  12. ubernub123

    female Running and Leaking

    I did a 10k last Saturday and I did pretty good, considering I haven’t been able to train due to various circumstances. I peed right when I got off work at 9:30 and I made it to the start line at around 9:55. The race began at 10:02 and about two or three minutes into the race...my bladder began to fill. I had some water before the race to keep myself hydrated, but now it was a problem. What’s worse is that this is a race with no portapotties and the race is on a road completely closed for business. The urge for worse and the hottest part about the race is one woman running next to me mutters, “would it be frowned upon if I just peed myself?” That got my blood pumping. The color of her leggings would have been perfect if she wet...but after running with her for about twenty minutes...nothing. But the fantasy was great! Back to me. No relief and my bladder got more full. I LOVE pissing myself, but in public like this...I’d rather not. I can feel my tip in my shorts and I feel wet. I’ve never had this happen: I’m Leaking! The leak grew bigger and I knew that I had to hurry up so I could make it. I sped up and made it to the finish line without peeing myself, but the ironic part is once I got to the finish line I didn’t have to go anymore. When I got home, however, the floodgates opened and I peed a LOT. Thought I’d share the time I ALMOST had a public accident 🙂
  13. you were on a very long bus ride and after hours of holding you can't wait longer, once at the station the line of the toilet is very long and people don't let you go before them but you're about to explode, would you rather: pee on the floor next to the line or wet yourself in the line ?
  14. Video Sep 13, 9 32 41 AM.mov
  15. Hey folks, first time posting in this section so please be nice 😅 I know you will 🤗 There is no great story here; I was lounging around at home watching the cricket, drinking a few beers, all the while allowing my desperation to build. Over after over passed and I could feel my bladder starting to strain, crotch grabbing and squirming wasn’t making any difference and before long a few drips escaped my defences, and soon after a small surge escaped. It was at that point I changed into my grey jean shorts, opened the floodgates and revelled in the naughtiness. I then snapped a few pics on the of chance someone might enjoy them 🤗
  16. Hey guys, no great story here unfortunately just a straight forward soaking with a few pics. Hope you enjoy.
  17. Guy is is so scared of having to jump of the top of a waterfall he floods his shorts in fear in front of all his friends. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  18. Guy dances in front of door while desperate to pee until he finally loses control and pisses in his tight jeans. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  19. Trapped outside of his apartment due to his key breaking a guy struggles with desperation until he loses control and wets his pants. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  20. Thudmaster

    female Double Diaper Mess

    Man wets and messes diaper multiple times before finally taking it off. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  21. Man spends morning in a wet and messy diaper! Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  22. Wombat48

    female Holding vid

    Result of my hold in live action thread, Just over 1200mls could have held longer but ran out of time 980D9D7D-0C17-455D-95F2-13B7E1F971C7.MOV
  23. Guy wets Blue Jean while walking around outside. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  24. Man desperately dances around in a diaper before wetting it. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?
  25. Thudmaster

    female Hot Male Pants Wetting

    Man stands in front of camera battling desperation until he loses control and wets his pants. Also if possible could someone please make a downloadable file version of this video?