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My pronouns are..

Found 4,392 results

  1. rachelkirwan

    Male Bedwetting in Computer Game

    Version 1.0.0

    27 downloads

    Found this and loved it! Enjoy, Rach

    Free

  2. Who here has ever masturbated on a full bladder, I say I have though I've never had an accident or even leaked during it. I wonder if anyone else has masturbated on a full bladder and either stayed dry, or leaked or even had a full on accident. Share your stories below.
  3. Morgan91

    Sports Shorts

    Soaked at Soccer Cohen hated soccer practice. It was always raining and the field became muddy quicksand that his cleats would sink into. He wished Mom had signed him up for something indoors, like art class, or swimming, or even basketball. He watched the droplets of rain race down the back seat windows. “Why do I have to come to Cohen’s stupid soccer game?” whined his older sister, Ryder. “I’m driving you up to Lidia’s for that sleepover right after,” their mother calmly replied, “And besides, you’re not to be left on your own yet.” Ryder sighed deeply. “Mom I’m old enough!” Their mother didn’t even stop herself from singing the tired old Britney Spears tune, “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman…” Ryder groaned and looked at her iPod for a few minutes, pretending it was a full-fledged iPhone with data. As they neared the parking lot at Cliff Greenfield Park, Mom went through her usual spiel. “If either of you two need to use the bathrooms, go now or hold it until after the game. I’m looking at you, Cohen.” “Whatever,” Ryder sighed, trudging off to the toilets. Cohen shrugged. “I don’t have to go,” he replied, taking a swig from his nearly full water bottle. “Do you want to try? It’s going to be a long while before another potty break,” his mother warned. Cohen shook his head and headed out to the field. He would be fine. Maybe he could’ve peed a little, but it wasn’t worth it. He took a big sip and joined his team for their warm up. A few minutes in to practicing passing, Cohen could feel his bladder swelling from all the water he’d just drank. It wasn’t too bad though. He thought about telling the coach, but the game would start in a few minutes and he couldn’t miss any of the action. Cohen tried to ignore his urge and chose to keep focusing on the ball and passing. When the game finally started, Cohen really needed to pee. His bladder was desperately begging for release as the boy hopped around and held himself. If he kept moving, the feeling wouldn’t get any worse, or so he told himself. Cohen pressed on his crotch and squeezed his legs together. It wouldn’t be too much longer. He ran after the ball, holding himself and hoping nobody would notice how bad he had to go. Thankfully, one of the other boys got it and Cohen slowed down. He crossed one leg over the other and hopped around, trying to make the feeling go away. “What are you doing?” asked Kai, one of the other boys on his team. “I gotta go pee!” Cohen grumbled. “I gotta go pee too,” Kai replied, “But I can hold it. I just have to go a little bit.” Cohen could see that Kai was lying. He was in worse shape than Cohen, barely holding on as he did the pee-pee dance in the middle of the field. “Cohen! Kai! What are you two doing?! The game is over there!” the coach boomed, pointing at the rest of their team, who were at the other end of the field. “We have to go to the bathroom,” Cohen shyly admitted, squeezing his legs together. “There are only two minutes left, boys. I need you to hold it until the game is over,” the coach said. “Come on now, get in the game.” Cohen winced, "I really need to go..." "You can hold it," the coach confidently dismissed him. Cohen and Kai carefully ran down the field, hands tightly in their crotches, attempting to seal off any leaks. “I have to go pee,” Cohen moaned, crossing his legs and jumping up and down. Kai wasn’t listening; he was wrestling with trying to keep from soaking his uniform. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Kai whimpered, “It’s coming out!” A rush of urine permeated his athletic shorts and drenched his legs. He worriedly tried to cover up his accident, but there was no use. Kai's eyes were wide with fear and embarrassment; his bony legs trembled in his soaking shorts. He could see his mother coming to fetch him from the other end of the field. Cohen felt frozen in the moment, tightly holding himself. He saw the anger on Kai's mother's face as she yanked her son off the field. She started yelling at him in Mandarin and gave him a smack on the back of the head. In accented English she angrily exclaimed, "I told you to go pee-pee before the game!" Kai was silent as he and his furious mother trudged over to the public bathrooms. Cohen held himself tightly; he could wait out the last few minutes of the game. His bladder was begging for release, but he could coax his body to wait just minutes until he could make a dash for the bathrooms. His knees knocked together and he wiggled about on the field, trying to think about anything except his predicament until he heard the coach blow his whistle. He grabbed onto his privates and made a run for the line his teammates were forming to give high-fives to the other team. “Good game,” the boys repeated over and over until it held no meaning. Cohen’s bladder felt ready to give up the good fight by the time he high-fived the last boy in line. “I gotta go pee!” he shouted and ran as fast as he could to the public bathrooms across the field. His heart was racing and his pee was sloshing around inside uncomfortably as he descended on the bathroom. Cohen tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried it again but it was locked. Panic set in and he began to dance on the spot. The sign on the door said the bathrooms were closed at 3:00 every day. How was it already 3?! “But I have to go pee!” Cohen wailed to no one in particular. “Cohen, honey we have to get going before your sister’s late for her party,” his mother said. She had snuck up behind him with a very bored Ryder in tow. “But I have to go to the bathroom,” Cohen whined. “You’ll have to hold it for a bit. The bathrooms are closed, honey. I told you to go pee before the game.” Cohen was ready to cry. There was no way he could hold it all the way home. “But mom-” “You’ll just have to hold it for a little longer. You can do it, you’re a big boy.” Cohen hurriedly made his way to the family van, trying desperately to hold on. Home wasn’t very far away. He could make it. Just a few more minutes. “You better not pee your pants or mom’s gonna be mad,” Ryder whispered to her brother before taking the front seat. Cohen said nothing and buckled himself in the back, wiggling his legs desperately. “Mom can we please stop at a gas station?” he begged. “Don’t be ridiculous, Cohen. You can hold it for five minutes,” his mother sighed. Cohen responded with a whimper and repositioned himself in his seat, trying to sit on his heel to keep his bladder from spasming. The thick leather of his cleats hurt but maybe it would stop the inevitable flood. He sat like that for a minute or two before feeling the pee slowly move into the urethra. He quickly changed positions, locking his knees tightly together and holding onto his penis. Cohen closed his eyes and felt the car come to a halt. A trickle of urine made its way into his underpants, but he held tighter and sealed the leak. Ryder grabbed her backpack and got out of the car, saying goodbye to her squirming brother. For a moment, Cohen thought of asking to use Lidia’s family’s bathroom, but he was too shy to talk to his sister’s friend. He kept holding. “Cohen, do you want to come sit up front?” his mother asked. The boy shook his head. He couldn’t even muster a verbal response; he was about to burst. “It’s okay, honey. Just a few more minutes until we’re home. You can hold it.” Cohen started to count backwards from 1000, taking deep breaths. His bladder was burning with discomfort and he could feel himself losing control. He felt a spasm that completely drenched his underwear, but there was still an ocean of pee to hold back. “Mom…” Cohen worriedly began. He felt his whole lower half freeze in space and time. All of a sudden he couldn’t feel the pressure of having to go anymore. He gasped, realizing his body had taken control. He was peeing his pants and there was nothing he could do to stop the stream. His shorts were soaked through, as was the fabric covered back seat of the car. Cohen was mortified. “Mom!” he cried, tears rushing down his cheeks, “I didn’t make it!” I have a few other ideas for sports-themed omorashi short stories. I will update if I have time. Open to suggestions and criticism, though I'm not very active on this forum at the moment. Thank you for reading. -Morgan
  4. Sapphire3619

    malefemale The Aftermath of the Snow

    It is the end of the semester, so I have a ton of things that I don't want to do before break, so I wrote this instead. I wrote it fast and sloppy, so I'm sure I missed some fairly ridiculous mistakes! *** Cami rolled her eyes. “No one in this whole state knows how to handle snow,” she lamented. Damien, her somewhat impromptu companion, shrugged good-naturedly. “Donna wanted milk, too, right?” “Yes, skim,” Cami clarified, reaching for a carton of eggs. The grocery store was, as expected, packed, with people scrambling to buy necessities before the storm hit. In fact, it was already snowing outside, and Cami had resisted when her mother, Donna, had requested a trip to the grocery store. Dr. Donna Patrick was a professor of international relations at the university. She lived 20 minutes or so out of town, in a large house that befit her academic rank. Her daughter, Dr. Camille Patrick, was a clinical psychologist and was in town for her mother’s yearly end-of-semester celebration. It was finals week at the university, and Donna, with her children grown, had developed a habit of inviting students to her house for a meal at the beginning of winter break. Mostly, she got students who lived close by, but occasionally, she got one like Damien, who would spend the night after the dorms closed. Damien was a junior who had first met Donna the previous spring semester in her popular intro course. Even in a class of 150 students, Damien stood out with his superior writing and thoughtful, critical answers in class. This semester, he had taken Donna’s advanced seminar, and Donna had gotten to know him even better. She knew he was a transfer student and that he wanted to go to law school. She’d been pleased when he accepted the invitation for the end-of-the-semester party. Because the dorms closed the last day of finals, Damien had agreed to say overnight at Donna’s house. Donna had explained that her husband, a professor in the chemistry department, was at a conference and would be back the following day for the party, but her daughter, Dr. Patrick (“Call her Cami”) would be in town. Cami was a few years older than Damien’s older sister, so he didn’t mind idea of sharing a house with the two women for a night. Damien had followed Donna to her house to find that Cami was already there. Introductions were made, but then the discussion turned quickly to the weather. Over Cami’s objections that no, Mom, there was really plenty of food in the house, no need to venture out, Donna decided that a trip to the grocery store was necessary, and that Damien should accompany Cami, just to be safe. Neither Cami nor Damien particularly minded having to spend time with each other, despite having just met. They were both outgoing enough that conversation wasn’t a problem. On the drive into town, Cami got to know the young man and his interests, and Damien asked about Cami’s experience in grad school and her current practice. Now, however, both were feeling ever so slightly more tense. Cami knew the roads were getting worse and didn’t want to waste time. She was doing her best not to take out any of her anxiety on the innocent student. Little did she know that Damien was working to suppress his own anxiety. He, too, was eager to get back to the house. His bladder was getting full, a sensation he really didn’t enjoy. Realistically, he could have used the restroom in the store, but it wasn’t an emergency, and he’d rather help Cami out with the shopping to speed things along. By the time they wound their way through the crowds and made it to the registers, the lines were all a half-dozen people deep. Damien drew in an unexpectedly harsh breath, but thankfully, Cami didn’t hear him. He knew he could just go. He could run to the bathroom and be back before Cami even reached the register. But the anxiety was already making him illogical, and he chose to stay where he was. “I suppose we’re part of the problem!” Cami was saying. “We’re being the kind of people who act like they’ve never seen snow before!” Damien managed a grin. The line was moving at a decent pace – at least the checkout employees were prepared for snow, apparently – and he knew he could make it back to the house. It took another 15 minutes, but eventually, Damien and Cami headed toward the exit, bags in hand. As they reached the door, however, Cami groaned. The storm had hit. Fat, heavy snowflakes coated the air, sticking to everything they touched. The cars in the parking lot already had a layer of snow, and the roads were no longer black but gray, lined with tire tracks in the rising snow. “Uuuuuuugh,” Cami moaned as they trudged across the parking lot to her car. “Mom better have wine waiting for me when we get back.” Damien gave a half-laugh. “We’ll be back, soon, though,” he said, more a question than a reassurance. “Ehhhh,” Cami shrugged, closing the trunk after putting in the last bag. “With the snow falling like this, the highway probably isn’t going to be much better. I’m guessing it’ll take us at least twice as long to get back.” Damien’s face fell, but Cami didn’t see as she slid into the driver’s seat. “Aaaaand, we have to stop for gas,” she sighed, seeing the illuminated signal on the dashboard. Cami pulled across the parking lot to the adjacent gas station. Damien looked around, but the station building was no more than a single-person kiosk. There was no public bathroom that he could use while Cami filled the car. His mind started slipping. He hadn’t had to go that badly, but nerves made his situation so much worse. Well, nerves and other things… Filling the car only took a few minutes, and Damien tried to use his last vestiges of rational thought to convince himself that he could make it through the drive home. But when Cami finally made it on to the highway, those last vestiges evaporated. Traffic had been slow enough in town as cars tried to avoid skidding through intersections, but on the highway, away from the buildings and signs, the view was almost entirely white. Snow swirled around the car, which Cami had moving at barely 30 miles an hour. Damien did some quick math in his head. At this rate, it would take them nearly an hour to get back to Donna’s house. He unconsciously turned toward the window, trying to hide his growing panic from Cami. Cami kept the radio off, focusing on the road. Although it was still daylight, visibility was terrible, and she and the other drivers kept their lights on. She drove for about 20 minutes in silence, going barely 10 miles. She knew the atmosphere in the car was tense, but she didn’t want to waste any energy trying to make conversation. Besides, Damien seemed to be OK with the silence. Until he wasn’t. At an undetermined point on the highway, Cami became aware of uneven breathing from the boy next to her. He was almost whimpering, his breaths sharp and shaky. Cami risked a quick glance sideways, but couldn’t determine anything, other than the fact that Damien was almost entirely turned toward the window. “Damien?” she asked cautiously. “You doing OK?” Out of the corner of her eye, Cami saw Damien press back into the seat. When he answered, his voice was…different. Nervous, definitely, but more…robotic, almost. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said dully. “Please.” “Oh!” Cami couldn’t hold back her shock. Damien hadn’t said anything before, and even driving slow, he should be able to make it back to the house, right? “That’s OK,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. “We’ll be back to the house soon enough.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. The only other exit between here and the one for Donna’s house was residential, so it wouldn’t have any public bathrooms to use, and it wasn’t like she could pull off the side of the road in a blizzard. Surely Damien knew that. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Damien did know that. But Damien wasn’t really thinking logically. He wasn’t thinking much at all. His movements were twitchy and uncontrolled, and after another 10 minutes, he let out a whine and shoved his hand between his legs. “Damien?” Cami asked again, more worried this time. “Are you OK?” “I don’t know if I can hold it,” Damien respond in the same flat voice. It was as if he was reading from a script, responding in a way that most college students wouldn’t. Looking down at the speedometer, Cami pressed her lips together. She really wasn’t comfortable going any faster. “You’ll be OK,” she said. “You can make it.” “I don’t know if I can.” Damien’s voice had a small tremor now. “I don’t want to have an accident.” Cami was truly bewildered now. He sounded childlike, or like an adult’s impression of a child. She risked another glance to the right – Damien’s legs were twisted tightly, hands buried between his thighs. He certainly looked like he badly needed the bathroom, but Cami couldn’t imagine a nearly grown man not being able to hold it for another 20 minutes or so. Cami kept driving. She was going as fast as she thought was safe, which wasn’t very fast at all. A few miles from their exit, Cami hard a small whine and then a hiss of breath as Damien sucked in air forcefully between his teeth. She didn’t know what talking would do at this point, but she still felt the need to ask. “Damien? How you doing over there?” “I-“ Damien’s voice was definitely shaking now. “I just peed a little bit in my pants.” “You’re OK,” Cami replied, automatically. She’d softened her own voice, as if she were talking to someone much younger than Damien. She didn’t want him to feel bad, but she also definitely didn’t want to have to clean pee out of her car. “We’re almost there,” she promised, which, while geographically correct, wasn’t quite temporally accurate. “Look, there’s our exit. Just another 10 minutes. You can do it.” A plaintive sniffle was all she got in response. She pulled off the highway, and peeked over at her passenger while stopped at the top of the exit ramp. Every muscle in Damien’s body seemed tensed. He was bouncing arrhythmically in the seat, seemingly not in control of his own body. As Cami turned, Damien felt the wetness of his underwear pressed against his skin. As tightly as he squeezed, he couldn’t make himself feel in control. Jeans weren’t the best for holding yourself, and he leaked again. “I…” he stammered, as if the words were being pulled out of him by force. “I had an accident again. M-my pants are wet.” “Honey, we’re so close,” Cami pleaded, abandoning all pretense of social correctness. The boy was in pain, and she wanted to comfort him. “Just hang on a few more minutes, OK?” “I’m…trying,” Damien answer, voice strained but still emotionless. “I’m trying not to pee my pants.” Oddly, but thankfully, the road to Donna’s house was clearer than the highway. A plow must’ve just been by. Cami took advantage of the comparatively good conditions to speed up a little. She made one final turn, the only sound in the car Damien’s hitched, desperate breathing. “There’s a bathroom in the basement,” Cami informed him. “Just off the garage. You can go in there.” “I’m going,” Damien squeaked, and Cami wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. “I’m having an accident and I can’t make it stop.” Cami hit the garage door button as she turned into her mom’s driveway. “Just one more minute, Damien, we’re here!” Pulling into the garage, Cami stopped as fast as she could. Damien was already unbuckled and fumbling with the door. He kept a hand pressed between his legs as he stumbled into the house. Cami puffed out her cheeks and sighed. She checked the passenger seat and didn’t see any wetness. She took that as a good sign and hoped that Damien was able to make it to the bathroom. Stretching out of the car, Cami gathered a few of the bags from the trunk. In the basement, the bathroom door was shut, so at least Damien had made it that far. She headed up the stairs, ready to confront her mom with some very important questions. In the bathroom, Damien had slammed the door behind him, but the sight of the toilet had been too much. As soon as he set foot on the tile, his bladder relinquished its tenuous hold, spilling urine around his tight grip. Twisting his legs together and bending forward at the waist, Damien scrabbled at his fly, but it was drenched in pee and his fingers kept slipping off. Heat coursed down his shaking legs, soaking into his shoes and socks. Damien felt lightheaded. He swayed on the spot, but didn’t fall. Several voices babbled in his head. I’m peeing in my pants…Did you have an accident?...Did you have to go potty?...I couldn’t hold it, sir…What kind of freshman can’t stop himself from wetting his pants? A pale puddle expanded around Damien’s feet, soaking into the bath mat. His head spun as he looked down at the streaks of pee still snaking down his jeans. He felt the stream of urine expelling from his bladder through his saturated boxers. He was whining softly, aimlessly. He had a huge accident all over his professor’s bathroom. He didn’t know what to do. Meanwhile, Cami had made a second trip down to the car to get the remaining groceries. She saw the bathroom door was still shut, but she knew that Damien had gotten his pants a little wet in the car, so she figured he didn’t want to come out just yet. Upstairs, Donna had come to the kitchen and was starting to put things away. “Hey, sweetie! How bad were the roads? Where’s Damien?” Cami set the bags on the counter and fixed her mother with a pointed stare. “Soooo…is there anything you know about Damien that you want to tell me?” Donna drew her head back, astonished. “Nothing that fits with the tone you’re asking me in!” she answered honestly. “What happened? Where is he? Is he OK?” Cami cringed. “He’s not hurt…” she equivocated. “But on the drive back – which took forever, by the way, I can’t believe you made me go out in this – he started acting really weird. He had to go to the bathroom, and apparently, he had to go really bad.” “Poor kid,” Donna sighed, definitely not understanding the full extent of the issue. “That must’ve been embarrassing.” “No, Mom,” Cami insisted, “it was way more than that. He was…I don’t know, narrating or something. Any other college kid would try to play it cool or laugh it off or not say anything at all, but Damien…he was describing what was happening and how he was wetting himself.” “He wet himself?!” Donna exclaimed. “Yes,” Cami rolled her eyes. Donna wasn’t a psychologist – she wasn’t focusing on what Cami thought was the important part. “And he’s still in the bathroom downstairs.” Donna frowned. “I’ll go get his bag. Poor kid. Thank God no one else is going to be here until tomorrow.” Donna was a great mom, Cami thought, and of course she’d take care of Damien, but Cami could tell – this was more than just an unfortunate accident. When Donna came back with Damien’s things, Cami followed her downstairs. Donna knocked gently on the bathroom door. “Damien?” she called. “I have your things out here, in case you need them.” There was a pause, and then the door opened slowly. Cami held back a gasp. The 20-year-old in front of her bore scant resemblance to the cheerful young man she’d met just hours ago. His eyes were red-rimmed and tear-filled, and there was nary a dry spot on the front of his jeans. Damien tugged unconsciously at the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it downward. Not that covering his crotch could do anything to distract from the drenched stretches of fabric all down both of his legs. “I…” his eyes were glassy and his voice, though definitely scratchy, had the same blank quality that Cami had heard in the car. “I didn’t make it,” Damien said, blinking. “I…I had to go so bad and I c-couldn’t get my pants undone in time and I h-had an accident on the f-floor.” Donna tilted her head sympathetically. Cami definitely felt the same, but she kept her body language neutral. “It’s OK, Damien,” Cami said softly. “It was a long ride back, and you tried really hard.” Damien flinched and looked down at the ground. Making a mental note of the boy’s reaction, Cami decided that now wasn’t the time for excessive comfort or encouragement. “We brought your bag, Damien,” Donna cut in, holding out the duffle bag. “You can get cleaned up and changed. There are clean towels on the rack in there.” Damien looked up just enough to take the bag. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He paused for a second, then turned and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Both women stood silently for a moment before Donna let out a very low whistle. “Woooooooow.” She turned back toward the stairs, and Cami followed. “I don’t know what I expected when you told me the kid had an accident, but that wasn’t it.” Her words weren’t judgmental – just stunned. Cami understood completely. It wasn’t even that Damien had apparently lost all control in the bathroom; it was the continued blankness in his voice, like he was being compelled. There was still emotion there – the unconscious attempt to cover his wet pants, the shaking voice – but the way he spoke throughout the whole ordeal indicated…something. “Can you do anything?” Donna asked as they reached the top of the stairs. Cami pressed her lips together. “You know I can’t force anything on him.” “I know, I know,” Donna waved her hand, mildly irritated at her implied lack of understanding. “But can you do anything?” “I’ll try.” Cami shrugged. Damien certainly needed some sort of care, and she had plenty of experience working with teens and young adults in her practice, but if Damien kept up this robotic narration, then there just wasn’t a lot she could do. Downstairs in the bathroom, Damien stared blearily down at the giant puddle. He heard himself whine softly and realized that his lower lip was trembling. He could barely think, but he knew that he had to clean up. Himself and the bathroom. In a fog, Damien reached for a towel. He dropped it into his mess on the floor, then started to strip off his wet pants. Several drops of urine squelched from the denim with the movement, spattering noisily onto the tile and making him cringe. Every part of him felt dirty – his hands, his feet, certainly his legs and crotch… The towel was sufficiently sopping by the time it absorbed his accident. Damien looked dazedly around the bathroom before deciding just to heap all the wet clothes in the corner. He finally turned on the shower. Upstairs, Cami listened for the sound of the shower while she finished putting away the groceries. She ran through Damien’s behavior in her mind, trying to decide what she would say to him if given the chance. The shower ran for about 15 minutes. Donna had retreated to her study to grade papers, feeling it was best not to overwhelm Damien. Cami set herself up at the island in the kitchen, working on her computer. After a few more minutes, Damien stepped into the kitchen, hair wet and duffle bag in his hand. Cami didn’t look up at first, not wanting to make him feel trapped, but when he stopped at the side of the island, she raised her eyes. Damien’s eyes were no longer blank, and his skin had regained some color, but the blankness in his face was replaced with complete shame. “I…” Even his voice was back to normal, though quiet. “I think I should leave.” Cami gazed at the young man, even though he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were down, seemingly fixed on the countertop. She took a breath before responding. “If you want to go, of course you can,” she said. “But please know that you’re welcome to stay.” Damien still couldn’t look at her, so she put every ounce of honesty she could into her voice. “Damien, no one here is mad at you or judging you for what happened. It’s not your fault. We won’t tell anyone, and we don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to.” Damien inhaled shakily and grabbed his left arm, wrapping himself in a half hug. “If you do want to leave,” Cami pleaded, “at least wait until the roads are a bit better. I’d really rather you didn’t drive in the snow, and I know Mom wouldn’t like it either.” Damien looked out the window, where fat flakes were still falling copiously. His shoulders fell – Cami was right. As much as he wanted to escape, trying to drive anywhere right now was a terrible idea. Besides, he didn’t actually have any place to stay. He’d only thought as far as getting out of the house. Cami was still looking at Damien; he could feel her gaze, but he couldn’t meet it just yet. “I…I put the…things…in the washing machine,” he explained, just for the sake of having something to say. “I hope that’s OK.” “Of course.” Cami smiled encouragingly. Damien didn’t respond, but he also didn’t move. “Damien, can I get you something? A snack, or some hot chocolate?” Cami offered. “We weren’t gonna have a big dinner with just the three of us, but-“ “I’m sorry.” Cami stopped at the quiet interruption. Damien’s voice was stretched and raw, and his eyebrows were drawn together. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he struggled to compose himself. “Damien…” Cami reached her hand across the island. “You have nothing to apologize for. I promise it’s OK.” Damien shook his head and finally looked up. To Cami’s surprise, he smiled sadly. “It’s not,” he said, shrugging. “I know it’s not, and-“ He raised his voice slightly, preempting any argument from Cami. “-I want…you deserve an explanation.” Ever the professional, Cami kept the pity she felt out of her face. She respected Damien enough that she didn’t bother telling him that he didn’t owe her anything. Shifting from foot to foot, Damien pulled out one of the bar stools and pressed himself up onto it, letting his duffle bag drop to the ground. He fidgeted a bit, trying to get comfortable in a decidedly uncomfortable situation. For her part, Cami kept quiet. “Donna told you I’m a transfer student?” he began, and Cami nodded. “I started at…another school as a freshman.” He clasped his hands together on the counter, steeling himself. “I didn’t know a lot about college, I guess. I just wanted to have fun and do well and make friends. So I decided to rush a fraternity.” Cami felt her chest tighten. Even if she hadn’t witnessed the young man have an accident, she knew enough to know that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant story. “For this place-“ Damien seemed determined not to give any identifying details. “-they would assign each new guy to an active brother. There was group stuff, too, but basically each brother who wanted it would get one or two recruits that were…well, he could do what he wanted with them.” Damien was winding his fingers together, intertwining his joints. “The guy I was assigned to…he…I didn’t get it at first. He had me and this other recruit kneel for a long time, which was pretty standard, I guess, but then he…he kept giving us water. I thought it was weird that he wasn’t giving us booze, but then I figured maybe they were being more careful not to get freshman drunk so they wouldn’t get in trouble. “It was the other guy first. He started kind of wiggling and stuff, even though we both knew we weren’t allowed to talk, but the brother…he was, I don’t know, watching for it, I guess. So he said ‘What’s wrong, recruit?’ and the other guy said that he had to pee, and the brother just told him to hold it.” Shuddering at the memory, Damien took in a deep breath. “I just…I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know people could just be like that. I thought for sure that he’d let us go to the bathroom, but he didn’t. And I know…” Damian hunched he shoulders, ashamed. “I know the other guy and I, we could have just, like, stopped, or got up and walked out, because there were two of us and only one of him, but…we just didn’t know. We thought this was normal, and we didn’t know each other at all, so we didn’t know what each other would do.” Cami had heard it all before, of course. Almost everyone who had ever been abused blamed themselves for not doing more to get out of the situation. She opened her mouth to tell Damien this, but his story wasn’t over. “So the other guy finally peed himself, and then the brother kept us there until I…I had an accident, too. I thought maybe I’d get…maybe he’d be proud of me or something, I don’t know, if I held it longer, but it didn’t seem to matter. And then I thought that, OK, he made us both pee our pants, we’ll move on to the next thing, but we just…that was it.” A tear slipped down Damien’s cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We had a whole week. Every free minute we had was supposed to be with our assigned brother, and all weekend. So that’s all we did. He would just make us drink a whole bunch and not let us use the bathroom. And he…it wasn’t just peeing ourselves. He wanted…he wanted us to talk about it. So he’d ask ‘What’s wrong?’ or ‘Do you need something, recruit?’ and we’d have to say that we had to pee or that we were going or stuff like that. If we didn’t answer or if we said something he didn’t like, he’d use the wooden paddle on us. So we had to…describe…everything.” Cami didn’t say anything, but she pulled a tissue out of her purse and passed it across the counter. Damien sniffled and wiped his nose. “We tried so many things.” Damien’s voice was like gelatin, thick and shaking. “And we never knew what he was going to do. Sometimes, we’d ask to go to the bathroom, and he would let us, but then he’d block the toilet and wouldn’t let us use it. Sometimes he’d act real mad that we had an accident, calling us babies saying that he could never let recruits in the fraternity who couldn’t keep their pants dry. But then sometimes…” Damien crumpled up the tissue and swiped at both of his eyes, but he was crying freely now. “Sometimes, he’d, like, comfort us, and say it was OK and we tried really hard to hold it, and he wasn’t gonna get mad as us for having a l-little a-a-accident.” Cami’s jaw was clenched so hard, she thought she’d crack a tooth. This was the Stanford Prison Experiment on steroids. This was the height of sadism. Although it definitely explained Damien’s odd narration earlier, it hurt to hear what he’d been put through. “At first, I just thought it was weird,” Damien continued, “but after a few days, I was so tired and sore and embarrassed that I started to cry, and then I couldn’t stop, and this other guy and me, we were just so tired and we never knew what to expect.” Drawing in a raggedy breath, Damien shrugged again, brushing off the hard part of the story. “I didn’t pledge, obviously. I don’t think the other guy did, either, but I don’t know. I barely made it through the semester. I was just hazy and off and confused. My GPA tanked, so I dropped out. I did online classes in the summer and fall before transferring here last year.” Damien finally looked up. His eyes were red and glistening, but the tears had stopped falling for now. “I really am sorry about today. I’m sorry I was weird and just kept saying weird stuff. I…I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like I knew it wasn’t the same and I wasn’t back in the frat house, but I didn’t know, because it was the first time since…” He trailed off and sniffed again, lowering his head. Cami gave him a moment before she decided it was her turn to speak. “I’m so sorry he did that to you,” she said simply. “No one deserves that kind of treatment.” Damien nodded in acknowledgement. “Damien, please believe me when I say you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything that was hurtful or on purpose, and Mom – Donna – and I just want to make sure you’re OK.” Picking distractedly at his nails, Damien nodded earnestly. “I’m fine,” he promised. “I went to therapy and stuff, and I know all that, and it helps. I’m just…” He paused, lip trembling again. “I’ve been really careful since then, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I…like I was gonna wet my pants, so then today was just…” He hesitated before glancing up at Cami. “I was scared,” he admitted. “It’s not like I think you or Donna are gonna be mean to me, but I didn’t know, and it’s not like it’s OK to have an accident in a stranger’s car, anyway.” “Damien, I know you don’t know me,” Cami acknowledged, “and I know that just trusting that everything is going to be OK probably isn’t going to happen. But I promise you that you’re safe here, and Mom and I will do whatever we can to take care of you.” Damien’s mouth curled upwards, almost imperceptibly, but then he frowned. “If…” His voice caught, and his face flushed. “It’s still OK if I say here?” “Of course,” Cami assured him. “Then…” Damien gripped his hands together. “I might…” He looked up, embarrassed, but Cami’s face was open and encouraging. “When…that week at the frat house,” Damien murmured quickly, “I…I started having problems for awhile, and it stopped, but after today, I don’t know…” He took a deep breath, trying to loosen the tight feeling in his chest. “Imightwetthebed,” he mumbled, then glanced up again, trying to read Cami’s face at this last admission. Cami felt her heart constrict with overwhelming sympathy, but she just smiled gently. “That’s not a problem, Damien,” she promised. “If it happens, it happens. We can help you clean up.” Damien let out a deep sigh, his whole body sinking in relief. “Thanks, Cami.” He straightened his shoulders, looking exhausted. He rose off the bar stool and bent down to grab his duffle bag. “I think I’m gonna go to my room, then.” Cami smiled and reopened her laptop. “Sounds good. We’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.” Nodding, Damien smiled a bit sheepishly and walked out. Cami inhaled deeply and gazed out the window. The snow had tapered off a bit, unlikely to do any more damage today.
  5. Morgan91

    malefemale Losing Control at Laser Tag

    From the album: Morgan91's Art

    Ryan's bursting at Lazer Fort. This round of laser tag can't end soon enough! Why won't they just open the door already?!
  6. Mrgala21

    Couldn't Catch a Break

    So yesterday was a busy day and I knew it would be from the start. I had to get a haircut, pay a visit to the bank as well as the store, and finally then I was to take my friends brother to see a movie. It started with me waking up with an unusually strong urge to pee. Now, I usually wake up with a very very full bladder (like most of us) but today was different. When I woke up both of my hands were wrapped around my penis and my legs were crossed. After simply enjoying the feeling for a bit I finally got up and hopped around a bit while I threw some shorts on because I did not want any of my roommates to see me in just my underwear. The relief was amazing beyond comprehension. Little did I know that wouldn't even be the worse I would need to pee during the day. Before I did anything I went to the gym and worked out. That was uneventful besides the fact that I drink water like a fish when I workout and combined with the heat I went through three full water bottles. Remember that as it will no doubt come into play later as you may have guessed. Then, I went to get my haircut which was overall pretty uneventful besides the development of a nagging feeling in my bladder. Nothing major. I was just entering the "you might want to start thinking about finding a bathroom phase" which is nothing I couldn't handle. Next came the bank which of course put me through the ringer and made me wait and wait. The line was so long and I had no choice but to wait for my turn. I was starting to have to adjust my weight and step from foot to foot every so often. I also had another problem as I was wearing black workout shorts and, as is the case with guys who have a pee fetish, I also started to feel my penis come to life and was afraid it would show. Finally, my turn came up and I took care of my business and was just about to hit the bathroom on the way out when I saw a man go into it. This is a small bank so there was only one bathroom with a single toilet in it and seeing as I was already a bit behind schedule I decided to just leave. I then went to the store with my need seeming to get worse and worse by the seconds. Like this for sure was one of the quickest Ive felt my bladder fill up. I do not know if I literally had that much in me the night before and didn't get it out all of the way or if it was just all that water but I really really needed to pee by the time I had grabbed all my items from the store. It was so bad that even looking at the drinks on the grocery store shelfs made me want to grab my penis super tight. Now, I do not shop at this particular store too often so I didn't even know if they had a public bathroom and plus time was beginning to become a real issue as my friends brother called me asking if I was almost there. I decided to simply suck it up and go real quick when I got to his house to pick him up. About halfway there I resorted to full on holding myself with one hand while driving and with both while I was at a light. And of course I got caught by just about every red light. The last one before I arrived is particularly long and I was frantic. Wiggling my butt around on the seat, holding myself with both hands, and I even let out a little whimper at one point because it was really starting to hurt. Here I am, a 22 year old man, squirming around at a stop light feeling my pee right on the edge of my tip. Of course, part of me was thankful I was in the car because it would be very obvious to anyone that I didn't just have to go pee but I also was getting some sort of enjoyment out of my situation. My friends brother is in a wheelchair and I am the one to usually drive him places and in this case see a movie as he loves to see movies. Im used to having to go into his place once I get there to help him finish anything that he needs help with but of course on this day, the day I pull up with a beyond bursting bladder, he is outside and waiting. So I park my car while giving myself another squeeze as if that would help hold me over. I then helped him get into his van and as Im walking around the back of the van to get in the front seat I am left with no choice but to squeeze myself under both my basketball shorts and briefs. I even stopped just to cross my legs. I remember wondering if I had enough time to just pee on the ground without him seeing but I could not risk that. I also did not want to ask him to unlock his door again and go in because we were already going to be just on time if not late to the movie. Believe me when I tell you that this drive to the theatre was so so hard. I was squirming but could not grab myself because now I wasn't alone. Every bump caused me to wince and envision myself letting it out over a toilet. Thankfully, the drive is short enough that I was able to make it until we got there because based off of how much my bladder was hurting and sticking out I did not have long. We eventually get inside and bought our tickets. I could not stay still the whole time we were buying them as I was pretty much marching on the spot when a squirt found its way out and I felt my briefs get all wet. For a second I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to stop it but I did using nothing but will power. I could swear the girl at the register could tell I had to pee because she smirked at me and usually I would be into that but I just simply did not want to flood my pants right here and ruin the whole outing. We then found our theatre and I made sure he was set up and told him I would go get some popcorn but really of course it was mainly to pee. The popcorn was a convenient cover story. I virtually fast walked to the bathroom and turned the corner and immediately almost run into a man. I simply could not believe it, there was actually a line for the urinals. I am guilty of taking for granted that mens rooms usually do not have a line while ladies rooms do a lot of the time. It was just my luck that I went there just as two separate movies were getting out meaning a lot of guys needed release. I almost moaned and whined but stopped myself because Im too old for that. Immediately, two more guys about my age get behind me and I removed my hand from between my legs. After all, I didn't want to look like a baby. There was literally nothing worse that I could have been doing at that point. Hearing and seeing guy after guy go up and relieve themselves was horrible. I felt like pee was going to come out of my eyeballs. I jumped up and down and felt another leak when the guy in front of me started to go. Finally, my turn came and I ran up to the urinal expecting to let out a torrent of pee but nothing happened. The fact that there were people behind me made me super pee shy. I literally could not pee and I couldn't believe it. I have never ever been able to pee in a urinal when there is a line behind me and even today was no exception. This issue has actually been the main reason behind most of my extreme public desperation episodes especially when I was younger. Everyone would think I got to go but in reality I could not let it out therefore resulting in me being forced to hold it for really extended periods of time but those are stories for a different time. I started to panic and that made it worse. After all that holding I finally get the chance to let it all out and I just cant do it. I was frustrated and defeated as I put my penis back in my shorts. I decided to try the other mens room on the opposite side of the theatre as even the single stall was taken and a stall does indeed help me get over my pee shyness. So there I am, leaving one bathroom still desperate to pee beyond belief as I go to a different one. If there was a line at that one I honestly would have been screwed as it felt like a balloon was about to explode in my stomach. Well, scratch that it was already exploding. Thankfully, this one did not have a line and I practically ran into the open stall just to avoid any issues this time around. I was peeing full force before I even got it out and I couldn't help but to put my head back in pleasure as it finally got to flow out of me. It felt amazing. I was even tempted to take care of my extreme erection but decided against it seeing as I was in public and all. All I have to say is thank god I was wearing black shorts or those leaks would have been very visible. Also, in case anyone was wondering Spider-Man was super good and we both enjoyed it.
  7. View File Dance Outfit Wetting Just a fun bedroom soaking! I thoroughly enjoyed wetting in this attire. If you have yet to wet leggings- I do insist- get some! Submitter themerger Submitted 07/14/2019 Category Male videos Clothing  
  8. Morgan91

    malefemale Class Dismissed

    From the album: Morgan91's Art

    Kai, Michelle, and Cohen all peed their pants in class. They should've gone during recess!
  9. EmesiraGimil

    malefemale [Male] Leaky Gaming 02

    View File Leaky Gaming 02 This is the second session of my live holding+gaming streams, from now on called "Leaky Gaming" - because I'm a dork and wanted a name for a series. In this session I was joined again by my friend @Pistachio, and newcomers @Alex Cubed and @4pobbs, as I continue my journey through Ori and the Blind Forest; having primed myself for rapid desperation beforehand, I managed to last for about 1 hour and 45 minutes - so it's shorter than the first one. This time, I decided to incorporate a couple of challenges to spice up the play: I decided to drink a bit of water every time I died or created a save point (as you can manually create save points anywhere that is safe), and... well, all three bottles of water I had readied were consumed. Once I had no more water, and since I was feeling bloated because of it, I decided to take on some "viewer challenges" as punishment for deaths instead. Credit where it's due: Dude on top left - Miri-kun's Milk Tea! Buy the doujin in https://mirihtmr.itch.io/milktea (translation available with it!) and support miri here https://www.patreon.com/miricomics Pic on the side, not the same pic but same artist - https://twitter.com/brown_tail/status/838067004204437504 https://twitter.com/rennniuzumi/status/847773543714574336 Ralsei on the top - Wakko pic - this one I don't know. I could never track a source for it. Currently it only exists hosted in rule34.paheal.ess Submitter EmesiraGimil Submitted 07/15/2019 Category Desperation Clothing Shorts  
  10. EmesiraGimil

    malefemale Leaky Gaming 02

    Version 1.0.0

    41 downloads

    This is the second session of my live holding+gaming streams, from now on called "Leaky Gaming" - because I'm a dork and wanted a name for a series. In this session I was joined again by my friend @Pistachio, and newcomers @Alex Cubed and @4pobbs, as I continue my journey through Ori and the Blind Forest; having primed myself for rapid desperation beforehand, I managed to last for about 1 hour and 45 minutes - so it's shorter than the first one. This time, I decided to incorporate a couple of challenges to spice up the play: I decided to drink a bit of water every time I died or created a save point (as you can manually create save points anywhere that is safe), and... well, all three bottles of water I had readied were consumed. Once I had no more water, and since I was feeling bloated because of it, I decided to take on some "viewer challenges" as punishment for deaths instead. Credit where it's due: Dude on top left - Miri-kun's Milk Tea! Buy the doujin in https://mirihtmr.itch.io/milktea (translation available with it!) and support miri here https://www.patreon.com/miricomics Pic on the side, not the same pic but same artist - https://twitter.com/brown_tail/status/838067004204437504 https://twitter.com/rennniuzumi/status/847773543714574336 Ralsei on the top - Wakko pic - this one I don't know. I could never track a source for it. Currently it only exists hosted in rule34.paheal.ess

    Free

  11. AriesTheRam

    malefemale Pink leggings wetting

    From the album: New Outfits!

  12. AriesTheRam

    malefemale Booty Close Up

    From the album: New Outfits!

    I only hope I can serve you good enough :)
  13. AriesTheRam

    malefemale leggings

    From the album: New Outfits!

    me and my new gray leggings :)
  14. AriesTheRam

    malefemale Undies Reveal

    From the album: New Outfits!

    some new underwear, too!
  15. themerger

    malefemale Dance Outfit Wetting

    Version 1.0.0

    146 downloads

    Just a fun bedroom soaking! I thoroughly enjoyed wetting in this attire. If you have yet to wet leggings- I do insist- get some!

    Free

  16. I tried to break these stories into three posts , so it would not be so long . The site will not let me do this likely because I am adding them right away with no replies in between. My aim was to make it Easier to read not boost my post count but having written this I want to post it now . Sorry about the length. While I am posting I might as well tell of my other real accidents, all as a child between the ages of 9-12.These are the only accidents I remember having , and given my lifetime of enjoying things pee related I probably remember them all and in considerable detail , considering the 50 years that have past. I will break them up into three posts as this is quite long. Part 1 The first time was I was 9. The Catholic school I went to which was normally very strict , took everyone from grade 4-8 by bus to a State Park about 12 miles from school, and turned us loose , totally unsupervised. Keep in mind this would have been in the early 1960’s We arrived about 9AM, and by 10AM I needed to pee badly. It was made worse as the park was big to a young child and I had no Idea where the bathrooms were and was too shy to ask also; I never admitted needing to go even if it was obvious. The school had a strict bathroom policy, as did my parents. Peeing anyplace but the toilet was forbidden. I started doing what I normally did in these situations holding myself, and hope to keep holding my pee. Within an hour I was extremely desperate. The pressure at the tip of my penis was very strong, and it felt like my pee was about to come out. This was beyond normal desperation, but the sensation you get when you are starting to let go after a long hold. I danced around furiously, holding myself as tight as I could hoping not to pee. But it started coming out anyway, creating a good sized wet spot in the front of my white cotton briefs, before I got the flow stopped. A boy that was with the group I was in came over to me and said “You just wet your pants”. I denied it as it was not obvious, just my underwear was wet, but he replied “yea you did some in your underwear”. I guess it was obvious since I no longer needed to hold myself, although my bladder was far from empty. Perhaps an hour later the need to pee was back worse than before. By this point it was just me and my best friend alone in the woods. Once again I was squirming and grabbing myself. He decided he needed to pee, and since no one was around he just unzipped and went. This was too much, and I started peeing in my pants hard, instantly. I started walking around squeezing myself with both hands but I could not even slow the flow. Thinking I walked away to give him privacy he said he did not care if I saw him pee. I did not tell him that I was peeing also but in my pants. I don’t know why I didn’t do as he did except that I was taught to control myself and peeing outside was wrong. So I wet my pants instead, for which I would have been punished if they had not dried. I guess my mother did not notice even though I peed in them twice. By the time I got the flow stopped, although somehow I kept my outer pants from getting wet my briefs were completely soaked. For that, I thank the absorbency of my white cotton briefs .My bladder still was not empty, and was sore and I needed to pee again in a little while by the time I found a bathroom I drained it completely, sometime later. Part 2 About 2 years later I think I was 11, my parents sent me to day camp for 2 weeks. This place was primarily set up for full time campers that slept, and had bathroom facilities in barrack like structures. We day campers had a single toilet facility in the rear of a small building that we changed in. The bathroom was always kept locked even when we were in the area of the building and we had to ask our coach to open it. This spot was well away from where the activities took place, so we were away from it most of the day. Aside from other activities we had swimming lessons in the morning and free swim after lunch, weather permitting. On our first day there I needed to pee badly by late morning, but managed to hang on until our afternoon swim. We were not given any opportunity to relieve ourselves, without asking and there were no restrooms at the pool. Since I was trained that peeing in the pool was wrong, when I felt like I was about to lose control, I got out of the pool grabbing myself, and squirming my legs back and forth. Another boy asked me if I had to go, and since I was about to start any second I said yes. He said it was not right they gave us day campers no opportunity to pee without individually asking so; he just let it out in the pool. Since could not hold it a second longer, and was going to pee anyway, I jumped into the pool. I started peeing instantly. I found this a preferable solution and would deliberately just go in the pool in the morning and afternoon, whenever I felt the urge. I have to believe that most of us were doing this as it was rare that someone asked if they could use the bathroom, and it was a big production. We had to get someone to bring us into one of the barracks as the activity room had no bathrooms for us either. I only remember tagging along with someone else who asked once. This arrangement worked fine until the last few days of camp when it was to chilly to go swimming. I tried to limit my fluid intake and was able to hold on much longer than I expected. Camp was 8AM -4PM, so by 3:30 we were back up in the day campers building, where the bathroom was kept locked except when someone asked to use it. I wonder now if coach liked to see desperate boys saying they had to go. Some boys snuck behind the building to go and were called out and punished in front of the group. By 3:30 on this particular day I somehow had not peed since I left the house in the morning, but I was extremely desperate. At this age I usually did not get much sensation in my bladder, just in my penis. However that day my bladder felt full and the pressure at my pee hole was intense. I struggled to hold on a few minutes longer by squeezing myself hard and doing a pee-pee dance. With my pee about to come out I made a quick dash behind the building and unzipped myself and peed. Until that day I never had peed that long or as hard. I peed forever, making a big bubbly puddle on the ground. It was either that, or do it in my pants, since nobody wan ted to ask the coach, least of all me .I got called out by the coach for doing it however. Therefore, the next day when again no pool activities, I decided not to repeat what I had done the day before. Fortunately I did not have to go quite as bad, and although it was necessary to hold myself I was able to hold on a while longer. At 4PM those going on the bus left and I went down to the office area to wait for my father to pick me up on the way home from work at about 4:20 followed by a 20 minute ride home. By 4:00 I was just as desperate as the day before. I was also thirsty from not drinking much all day. I made the mistake of going inside to get a drink from the water fountain. Although I was already desperate and squeezing myself and squirming, to try to hold back my pee, the drink brought me right to the brink. There was no one in the office for me to even ask for a place to go. Then the phone rang and somebody appeared to answer it. He asked why I did not answer it. I said I did not know I was supposed to. I did not add that I could not stand still, because I was about to wet my pants, although it was obvious from my dancing and grabbing. Since my father was going to pick me up soon, and remembering the huge amount I peed the previous day, I did not want to wet my pants afraid all that pee would make it obvious. So I decided to go in a nearby wooded area. I did not make it. About half way there, despite my holding my penis tightly, my pee forced its way out. By this age I guess I had enough control, that although my white cotton briefs got quite wet, I was able to stop the flow before it soaked through to my pants. Looking back on it being able to not pee from when I left the house around 7:15 AM until 4PM at age 11 was quite an accomplishment. I almost held it an entire adult day, only being unable to hold it until late in the day. Even then I only partly wet myself. This bladder control serve me well in my high school days, when I frequently held it 7AM -5PM. Although this hurt I always arrived home dry. OK for some reason perhaps since I am adding to my original post right away , with no replies in between it is not letting me break these stories up. Part 3 About a year later at age 12, actually almost 13 I went to a friend’s house for the day. This was during the winter though. He was a big guy who never seemed to need to go. I made sure I went before my father dropped me off there about 9 AM. After lunch I began to need to pee badly, but was considered too old to old myself, so I forced myself to refrain except when I thought nobody was looking. We went bowling at a nearby alley, where I could have looked for the restroom but didn’t. It started snowing, and he had to deliver the afternoon newspaper so we rode bikes in the snow doing this, all the while I was still holding my pee, because I never saw him go. About 3 hours went by since I needed to go, it was about 3:30PM and I had to go really bad. We went sledding in the fresh snow in his front yard. There was a big jump off where we landed in his driveway. The jolt was too much for my straining bladder. With my pee about to come out I desperately pressed against my penis through my winter coat. He saw this and asked if I needed to go someplace, but a few seconds later I started going in my pants. I kept pressing myself and after about 10 seconds of terror , fearing I was going to embarrass myself , by soaking my pants in front of him , I managed to stop peeing . Again my briefs were wet, but the absorbance of the white cotton served me well, there was no external damage. I asked him what he meant by going someplace. He probably knew I had done some in my pants. Although the extreme pressure was relived I still needed to pee. This need intensified greatly over the next 3 hours or so. Without any jolts jarring my bladder I was able to hold it in, with the help of my hand when nobody was looking. I did not pee the rest of the day After dinner his parents dropped me off at home on the way to Church. He had 6 brothers and we all climbed into the family van. By this time I had to pee worse than I ever had in my life. To say I was desperate was an understatement. OMG everything hurt like never before. My bladder holding 9 hours of urine minus what I had leaked was painfully stretched. My entire penis throbbed. The pressure at my pee hole was unbelievably intense. It literally felt like it was going to explode. Fortunately it was dark so nobody could see I had both hands tightly squeezing my penis, I was so close to a huge wetting , I feared one hand would not stop it. I was squirming my legs as well. It did not matter if they did notice, because I was about to wet my pants at any second. I knew for certain this would be unlike any previous accident I had. I would not just wet my underwear like I had done earlier in the day, or any other time for that matter. This was about to be a huge soaker, wetting not only my pants but making a huge puddle on the car seat getting the others wet as well. This would be awful. Somehow I managed to hold on through shear willpower, and fear of being mortified. How would that have gone over if I not only wet my pants, but got others on the way to church wet as well. There was so much pee in my bladder I could not believe I had held it all, or not gone at my friend’s house. I knew full well I had not peed all day and how badly I needed to go for a long time. He must have gone at some point; especially since he was going to church but I never saw it. I ran into the house, bent over holding myself tightly. It was better my family saw that then me wetting my pants. I rushed to the bathroom, but I had to let go of my penis to get it out of my pants. Thinking quickly as I had no time left I unsnapped my pants and slid one hand inside. I released my hand on the outside my pants and grabbed myself on inside. In the exchange I started to pee a bit in my pants, but it was less than it would have been, at least I slowed the flow a bit until I was free of my pants. I then peed for the hardest and for the longest time ever in my young life, perhaps rivaling my adult times. The relief was enormous, and somehow sexually arousing. If I had to wait just a few minutes longer I would have done all that pee in my friend’s car. I said throughout these 3 stories That through my mother’s choice I was wearing white cotton briefs, and I was glad for that ; because of their superior absorbency I was able to limit all my wettings to just my underwear. I still wear them to this day because I enjoy the way that absorbency feels when I “accidently “on purpose wet my pants. Speaking of needing to pee I said when I posted my adult unplanned wetting story that I needed to pee. I have not moved and have been working on this series ever since. I just noticed that was almost 4 hours ago. I have been distracted by my work, and did not realize that much time had passed. No wonder I have to pee so badly, and have been squirming and needing to occasionally grab myself for some time.
  17. JetStreamPhoto

    TGIF wetting

    Yes, TGIF! Had a little window of time when the sun came out after the clouds and storms of 2-3PM so I took a seat on the patio and let the sun soak my skin a little. It wasn't too long before my bladder increased from the 2 beers I drank (plus all the hydration earlier during the work day). Then, I decided I should capture some video. So I shot 3 snippets of video as I let the pee flow through my little blue/yellow swim trunks. Hope you like it! (ONE) VID_20190712_180030.mp4 (TWO) VID_20190712_180113.mp4 (THREE) VID_20190712_181105.mp4
  18. ssjammerz

    malefemale Cycling wetting 41

    I was trying to do another wetting video yesterday but my bladder gave up! After I found an isolated area, I was trying to find a pose that could best capture the moment. Unfortunately, my camera stand broke so I was left to improvise. This meant that I had to work around the camera, instead of the camera working around me. All the crouches, getting up and down, really did a number on my bladder. As I was trying to set up this shot, my bladder gave up--the pressure overcame my self-control so I started peeing uncontrollably. I know this isn't my best work, but I'd still like to think it has some entertainment value. On another note, I wet myself four or five more times on the way home. On my last leg when I was riding up a hill, I pulled to the side to let a pedestrian walk by--she was an Indian girl, probably mid to late 20s. She was wearing scrubs and had a badge, so I assume that she was walking to work in the hospital across the street. Anyway, she was pretty slim and somewhat attractive. As I yielded to her, she said thanks, but I saw her eyes glance at my crotch. The random and darker shade of blue could definitely lead anyone to believe that I had pissed myself. Although she didn't say anything, I couldn't help but feel a little bit exhilarated, knowing that she knew (most likely anyway) that I had wet my shorts. Now my mind is left wandering what my reaction/reply should be if she or anyone else asks if I had an accident...anyway, enjoy! cyc41.wmv
  19. Sapphire3619

    malefemale Study Session

    Hello! I hope you're all having a wonderful start to summer (or winter, depending on where you are). Somehow, it's nearly July, so I thought I'd throw down another story before the entire academic summer goes by without me writing anything. Enjoy! *** “I’ll just be in the library.” “I know.” “I’ll have my phone with me.” “I know you will.” Amber looked back and forth at the slightly odd exchange between Fletcher and his roommate, Louis. She’d come over for a study session with Fletcher, but Louis was acting more like an anxious parent, leaving his child without a babysitter for the first time. Like the two men, Amber was a first-year law student. She’d moved to the city by herself to start law school, so she didn’t have any built-in acquaintances. Luckily, the intense scholarly demands of law school made it easy – even necessary – to build academic relationships, and, within the first few weeks of the semester, Amber had found herself in a study group with the men of Apartment 11H. Amber had instantly gravitated toward Fletcher. He was smart, kind, and, overall, quite different from the daddy’s-money, fourth-of-their-name type guys who seemed disproportionately represented in their class. When he’d suggested a one-on-one study date, Amber hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Louis, on the other hand, was nothing like his roommate, at least in Amber’s opinion. While Fletcher was easygoing and quick to smile, Louis was just…big. More than once, Amber had thought of Louis as a troll or ogre or something. Not because he was particularly ugly or brutish, but he was definitely a man of few words. Physically, he was huge – nearly six and a half feet tall and built more like a competitive strongman than a lawyer. He was the last person Amber would label as “friendly,” and he never seemed to respond to any of her conversational overtures. He really just came off as a jerk. She was convinced Louis hated her. Maybe he hated everyone. So it was all the more bemusing to see him speak to Fletcher as if being in separate buildings was somehow concerning. “We’re just going over our contributions for Legal Writing, so I shouldn’t be more than two hours.” Louis hoisted his bag over his shoulder and put his hand on the doorknob, but still seemed reluctant to leave. “Sounds good, man,” Fletcher responded. He smiled at Amber. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing toward the couch, “I’m just gonna grab my laptop.” Amber smiled back, but Fletcher was already headed down the hallway. When Amber turned, she nearly gasped – Louis had stepped away from the door and was standing uncomfortably close. Before Amber could react, he shoved a piece of paper into her hands. “Here’s my number,” he muttered, clearly not wanting Fletcher to hear. “Text me if…if Fletcher needs anything.” Amber quirked an eyebrow, but Louis sounded completely earnest. “Um…okay? Am I missing something? Why wouldn’t Fletcher text you himself?” She was unnerved by Louis’s behavior, but she, too, kept her voice quiet. Louis hesitated, then shook his head as if physically trying to shake off the intensity of his demand. “Fletch wasn’t feeling too well last night,” he said, not quite meeting Amber’s gaze. “I just want to be able to help if he gets sick.” The oddly intense moment was broken by the sounds of Fletcher returning from his room. Before Amber could even open her mouth to ask more questions, Louis was already out the door, calling “See you later” to his roommate. “Ready for a deep dive into Torts?” Fletcher grinned, apparently unaware of Louis’s surreptitious plea. Amber mirrored Fletcher’s movements, taking out her laptop and notes, but she wasn’t quite ready to focus on emotional distress or assault and battery. “So…how long have you and Louis known each other?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. “Lou?” Fletcher didn’t even look up as he rifled through his notes. “Since college. Freshman year.” “And you both ended up here?” Amber pressed gently. Fletcher half-shrugged. “We both knew we wanted to go into law, so we helped each other study, and we both got in.” Which left Amber with no more immediate avenues for questioning. This was the top law school in the state, so it wasn’t exactly a mystery as to why both men decided to accept their offer of admittance. But she wasn’t ready to let the subject drop just yet. “He said you weren’t feeling well last night,” she said, slightly less casual. “Are you OK to study?” Fletcher’s hesitation would have passed without notice, had Amber’s question been completely innocent, but she definitely caught the half-second pause before Fletcher brushed off the question. “Oh, yeah,” he answered, physically waving away the question, “I must’ve eaten some leftovers that were too old or something. No big deal.” He looked up at Amber and grinned. “Ready for some Garratt v. Dailey, or do you have any more questions about my roommate?” Called out (albeit kindly), Amber felt her face flush. “Sorry. Just a little overeager to get to know people.” That part, at least, was honest. Being new in town wasn’t easy. Chill as ever, Fletcher moved on without teasing Amber any further. Amber chose to believe that the subject was dropped. The two of them settled in, poring over case law and prior statutes. Fletcher was naturally smart, but Amber had a knack for law and reason. Together, they were an excellent match for studying, both helping each other understand the breadth and intricacies of one of the less-entertaining L1 courses. After about an hour, Amber sat back and rolled her neck. “Ugh. This is great, but I can only take so much case law at one time. Is the bathroom down there?” She pointed down the hall. “Yeah, second door on the left.” Amber smiled in thanks, stretching her arms overhead as she stood up. She went to the bathroom, pleased with how the study date was going. Yes, they were learning a lot, but she was also enjoying her time with Fletcher. Their conversation was easy, and she really felt like he could be her first real friend here. If only his roommate wasn’t so unpleasant… Amber washed her hands and walked back out to the front room. She saw Fletcher leaning forward, elbows on his knees, clenching and unclenching his fists. “You OK?” Amber asked, more concerned than she would have been, had she not heard Louis’s warning. Fletcher sat up, an inscrutable look replaced almost instantly by a tired smile. “Ready for some more work,” he claimed. “That’s what we signed up for, right?” “Ha!” Amber couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Fletcher was right – they both knew law school would be exhausting. She mentally chastised herself for being paranoid. They returned to their pages and pages of judicial decisions and precedent. Amber was laser-focused, taking copious notes, both digital and hand-written. She was determined to do well on their next exam. For another half hour, Amber talked through the required readings, not noticing that Fletcher was contributing less and less to the conversation. “So, using Summers v. Tice, pharmaceutical companies have been held liable for in-“ Amber cut herself off at the sound of a clattering pen. She looked up to see Fletcher’s pen on the floor and its owner’s hand shaking. “Fletcher?” It took Amber a second to fully drag her focus from the definition of intentional action, but when she did, she saw that Fletcher’s skin had taken on an ashen tone and a sheen of sweat. His hands were trembling, and he made no movement to reach for the dropped pen. “Fletcher?” Amber repeated, her voice rising. “Are…are you OK? Can I…” Fletcher inhaled, his breath shaky. “I…” he breathed. “I think I need to lay down.” “OK!” Amber, an experienced babysitter, automatically adopted a cheerful-yet-calm tone, as much to try to keep herself from freaking out as anything else. “Do you want to just-“ She gestured toward the couch, but Fletcher cut her off. “I think…I should go to me room,” he ground out, sounding very much like he was using every last ounce of energy to speak normally. He leaned forward, and Amber stood up help him off his feet. He didn’t argue as she braced her hand under his elbow. She could feel him trembling even under the obvious tension of his muscles as he worked to hold himself upright. They shuffled toward the bedroom in silence. Amber’s thoughts ricocheted around her mind, a mix of trying to understand what was going on and trying to decide what to do In Fletcher’s pleasantly tidy room, Amber helped guide him toward his bed. With a shaky hand, Fletcher reached down and drew back the covers before dropping onto the bed with what was probably considerably less grace than he would have liked. “Can I…” Amber watched as Fletcher drew the covers up to his chin, his eyes already closed. “Can I get you anything?” “No,” Fletcher breathed, not opening his eyes. “I’m just gonna rest.” The last words were all but slurred, murmured in a weary exhale. Amber was nearly convinced that he was asleep before he finished speaking. She stared down at him for a second before slowly reaching into her pocket. She stepped out of the room before pulling out her room. Even though she was certain Fletcher was asleep (or at least incapable of stopping her), she still felt weird texting a grown man’s roommate in front of him to – what, tattle? Give a medical update? Regardless, Amber was unnerved enough by Fletcher’s sudden crash that she knew her best option was to follow Louis’s orders. Hey, it’s Amber. Fletcher got all shaky and he’s in bed now. Idk what else to do. The response dots appeared within seconds. I’m coming back now. 15 minutes. Stay with him and let me know if anything changes. If Amber had been expecting comfort, this wasn’t it. She could practically feel Louis’s worry through the words on the screen. Clearly, Louis wasn’t surprised by her text – what was going on here? Of course, she didn’t expect to know everything about Fletcher just a few weeks into the semester, but whatever this was seemed pretty important. Drawing in a breath, Amber straightened her shoulders, put her phone back into her pocket, and walked back into Fletcher’s room. The details didn’t matter right now; if Fletcher needed to be watched over until Louis returned, then that was what she would do. There was already a chair next to Fletcher’s bed, one she hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t odd, exactly – plenty of people had chairs in their rooms – but, in light of the past 10 minutes, Amber wondered if this chair was explicitly for Louis to watch over Fletcher while he slept. Amber settled herself into the chair. For the first thirty seconds, she sat up straight, staring at Fletcher’s sleeping form without blinking. After a half-minute of even breathing, though, she decided that Fletcher didn’t need quite that level of attentiveness and relaxed her posture a bit. Ten minutes later, as Amber was mentally planning what she would ask Louis when he returned, Fletcher started to move. Amber sat upright, one hand already gripping her phone. She didn’t speak, not wanting to wake him, but she watched Fletcher writhed slightly, leaning his head back and forth. After a minute, his eyes opened, wet, red, and scared. “Fletcher?” Amber said softly. “Fletcher, it’s OK.” Fletcher’s head turned on the pillow just enough so that he could look at the source of the voice. Instead of relaxing upon seeing Amber’s face, however, he teared up more. All of Amber’s forced-logic calm evaporated. “What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from squeaking. “Fletcher, what do you need?” Instead of responding, Fletcher just moaned. Well, it was kind of a moan. A weak, pained sigh that Amber correctly took to mean he couldn’t speak. “It’s OK,” Amber repeated, wholly unsure if that was true. “You’re OK.” Fletcher whined quietly, pitifully. It was as if he’d been tranquilized, and the only part of his body he was capable of moving was his head, which he was shaking back and forth slowly. Amber was now on her feet, staring down at her miserable classmate. He gazed back up at her, silently pleading. But she could tell for what. “Are you hurt?” she asked, knowing the question was futile. Clearly, if Fletcher was capable of moving or speaking, he would have by this point. He was only whining though, looking increasingly distressed. “I’m sorry,” Amber pleaded, totally at a loss. “Louis is coming, he’s on his way.” Fletcher’s eyes widened for a second, but then his face crumpled, and he actually started to cry, tears streaming sideways from the outer corners of his eyes. “Fletch!” This time, Amber did gasp at the sound of Louis’s voice from the hallway. “In here!” she called, relieved. She took a step back as Louis strode forcefully into the room, not quite sprinting. He didn’t even look at Amber; he just stepped next to the bed and looked down at Fletcher, assessing the situation. “It’s OK,” Louis promised, in a voice more gentle than Amber would have ever thought possible. “You’re OK. I’m here.” Fletcher’s whine was different this time – broken instead of desperate. Tears poured down the sides of his face as he gazed up at his towering friend. Louis reached down and stroked Fletcher’s hair, then abruptly turned toward Amber. “I’ve got this. You can go.” Amber didn’t hesitate; she walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. She made it all the way to the front room before she slumped on the couch, experiencing an adrenaline crash disproportionate to the actual length of the event. Back in the bedroom, Fletcher was still crying, though not as hard. “It’s OK, man,” Louis soothed. “It’ll be OK. She doesn’t know. She didn’t see anything.” Fletcher squeezed his eyes shut, pressing out another stream of tears. Louis sighed. There was only so much comforting he could do. Now, he had to focus on more functional things. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly. Louis pulled back the blankets to reveal the wet patch that he already knew would be there. The stain glistened around Fletcher’s lower half, and Louis could have kicked himself. If he’d just been a few minutes earlier… “It’s OK,” he repeated, gently easing Fletcher to a sitting position. “We’ll just get you cleaned up, and then you can go back to sleep. I’m here.” Supporting most of Fletcher’s weight, Louis guided his friend to the connected bathroom. It wasn’t quite a well-honed system, but neither was this the first time the duo had done this particular dance. Louis tried to speed things up this time, though, knowing the speed of Fletcher’s crash meant that he was going to need even more rest. Instead of a full shower, then, Louis just propped his roommate up on the shower chair, stripped off his wet clothes, and wiped him down with a soapy washcloth. Back in the bedroom, he situated a towel-wrapped Fletcher on the chair by the bed while he changed the bedsheets. The whole process took only about ten minutes, but Louis was exhausted by the time Fletcher was back in his clean, dry bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow. Drained, Louis gathered the wet sheets in his arms and exited the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. He didn’t bother to sigh when he saw Amber still sitting on the couch. She straightened expectantly when he walked out, but he didn’t acknowledge her at first. He just walked past to put the sheets the in washer. Amber heard the washing machine start, then the sound of water in the kitchen – Louis washing his hands. She waited patiently. At first, she’d stayed because she was too overwhelmed to move. Then, after she’d had a minute to collect herself, she decided that she wanted answers and had steeled herself to stay. Now, seeing Louis in front of her, she wasn’t quite as sure about that decision. The hulking man sat down at the opposite corner of the couch. After a second, he shifted slightly so that he was turned toward Amber. He didn’t speak, but he stared, silently daring her to ask her questions. Amber drew in a deep breath. “Is…” she started. “Is he…” Louis’s stare was harsh, protective. Amber knew that if she asked the wrong question, she wouldn’t get any answers at all. She pressed her lips together, trying to sort out the thoughts and emotions of the afternoon. Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, she opened her mouth again. “Did I hurt him?” Louis paused, then visibly relaxed, if only slightly. “No,” he sighed. “You actually did really well.” Relieved, Amber slumped back into the couch. “Good.” She looked back up at Louis. She still wanted to know more, but she didn’t want to press too much. “If…is there anything I could do next time? Maybe to prevent…” She trailed off, not knowing what exactly it was she’d be preventing. Louis hesitated again, considering his answer. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s…Fletch doesn’t always appreciate suggestions to slow down and take it easy.” Amber mulled that answer for a moment. So whatever it was that had happened was somewhat perpetuated by stress and hard work. Louis was telling her that she could keep an eye out for Fletcher pushing himself, but ultimately, it was up to Fletcher to decide whether or not he would relax. “So you’ve known him for a while, then?” she asked, switching tactics. Louis nodded, apprehensively, anticipating where this line of questioning was going. “Has he…always…” “Look,” Louis stared at Amber, not bothering to let her finish eking out a question. “I’m not going to give you details. It’s up to Fletcher to decide how much of his own personal information he wants to share.” “No, I-“ Amber held up her hands, fending off the not-entirely-inaccurate implied accusation. “I know.” Louis sighed again. He knew this was bound to happen, eventually. (Well, not quite this.) He’d tried to talk to Fletcher about pacing himself and what to say to classmates if they ever noticed anything, but neither of the roommates had been prepared for just how strenuous law school was going to be. He knew Amber was unlikely to be satisfied with no explanation at all, but he also knew that he didn’t want to share anything without Fletcher’s permission. “You take care of him.” Amber’s matter-of-fact statement interrupted Louis’s stream of consciousness, and his first reaction was pure defensiveness. “I don’t…” he sputtered, desperate to protect his roommate. “I’m not a nurse. He’s not an invalid.” And yet, even as he spoke, Louis was unsure of how much weight his words would carry. Amber had only known then for a short time, and she’d just seen Fletcher collapse and cry, and, even if she hadn’t seen it, she had to have figured out that he had an accident. “We’re friends,” Louis insisted sincerely. “We met in college, and we were friends, and when…when things started happening, I wanted to help.” He looked up at Amber, tired and deflated. “That’s all.” It was easily the most emotion Amber had ever seen from Louis, not that that was saying much. She felt for him; he clearly cared deeply for Fletcher, and, whatever the two of them were dealing with, it wasn’t her place to know just yet. “OK,” she said after several moments. “OK.” She reached for her bag, but turned back to Louis as she stood. “Tell Fletcher…” she said quietly, “tell Fletcher I hope he feels better soon. And tell him I’ll send him my notes once I get them all organized.” Louis nodded slowly, too tired to stand and see her out the door. “And…” Amber paused, hoping this next bit came out right. “I won’t…I won’t tell anyone. Anything. Please don’t worry.” Louis seemed to melt into the couch, nearly delirious with relief that he hadn’t hoped for. Amber gave him a small smile, then walked out the door, each leaving the other with opinions quite different than how they’d began the afternoon.
  20. Sat down and peed my boxers on the bathroom floor. Trim_20190709_175851.mp4
  21. falschirmjager

    malefemale Day wetting vs night wetting?

    Do you prefer wetting out in broad daylight or wetting in the chill night air? For me, it’s all about nighttime, I just love the feeling. 3F8B64EC-F8C9-4AC2-A788-A77BCE864748.MOV
  22. sleeping_cat01

    malefemale I was veRy SmARt the other day

    Hi, y'all! So, recently I had been sort of wanting to wet myself, and I stumbled upon a link to an amazing video, 'Piss yourself for my amusement.' (https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b882d3b8222e). I realised I had just found gold, and I had to try it. So I did. I don't want to spoil the video for anyone (yes there is a plot), so I'll skip straight to the end. Basically, I made it through the video, and at the end, because I had been a good boy, I got to release in my clothes. So I did. So, there I was, standing in the bathroom, emptying my bladder into my shorts and onto the floor. Halfway to empty, I came to the shocking realisation that the puddle beneath my feet was expanding way faster than I'd thought. This was a bit of a problem, as there are two mats in the bathroom, one white and one light blue. They may have possibly taken a bit of a hit, one could say. I quickly kicked them out of the way when I noticed. After finally emptying my bladder, and putting my wet clothes in the washing machine, I realised that there was another problem: the puddle on the floor. So, being veRy SmARt, I decided that since the mats were out of the way, I could, before showering, shower the floor. Yeah, um, I see nothing wrong with that idea. Good thing I didn't give my laptop a shower. In conclusion, we have learnt that: i) Always plan where you are going to give the floor a golden shower through your clothes, ii) Prepare the area to make sure you have minimal clean-up to do afterwards, iii) Showerheads are not built for accuracy. Don't trust them near electronics, and iv) yeS, I aM veRy SmARt. In essence: Thank you Mistress Rousson, very cool!
  23. Version 1.0.0

    212 downloads

    This is the translated version of the Ralsei Omorashi Doujinshi I posted a while back. Made by this artist from pixiv: https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=336458

    Free

  24. Oh dear! I posted my first thread on here after being a very long time lurker only a few weeks back, describing my first ever accident as an adult, and in work no less. 😞 It wasn't a great experience, but as a one off I lived, and I've been able to enjoy a bit of desperation and deliberate wetting play once the feelings of shame had passed. Even having a go at a bit of fiction on here, which is great fun. Tonight, however, driving home my bladder decided to betray me again. No genuine accidents for something ridiculous like 19 years, and then 2 in the space of a month. 🙄 This time I was holding deliberately, not because I had to in work, but because I was looking forward to giving myself a good old soaking in the privacy of my home. Alas my body had other ideas, and probably a mile or so away away from home I started to leak. I wasn't too upset by this, as there was only me in the car, and nobody was going to be home to see me if I arrived a bit damp, so no real harm done. I figured a few leaks, and then finish off once I was out of the car. Again, the bladder didn't want to play by my rules. 😂 In the time it took me to drive that last mile, I no longer needed to pee at all. I do, however, need to clean my car seat! 🙈 And had a very sheepish, back to the wall, dash up the stairs to my flat door. This time, despite being a real accident and still quite public, I was able to fully enjoy the experience. No sense of shame, no tears. Yes quite a bit of shock, and I'm clearly going to have to be more careful in the future, but all in all it was exhilarating and felt really naughty. 😊
  25. GoldenG8

    malefemale The Airplane Game

    Sometimes when I travel by air, I like to play a little omo game with myself. @Pistachio insisted I must share this with the community, so here it is: The Airplane Game. A few years ago, I was taking a trip on which I couldn't get a direct flight for a reasonable price, so I made up a game to pass the time on the two-leg journey. I wore black sweatpants made out of a highly absorbent fabric, with a Speedo underneath. I gave myself three “lifelines,” or trips to the bathroom. Lifeline 1: A normal piss in a toilet. Lifeline 2: A piss through my innermost layer of clothing (the Speedo, in this case). Lifeline 3: An opportunity to go in the stall and change my outermost layer of clothing. Other than that, I could not use a bathroom from the time I left home until I arrived in my hotel room. I had to drink a liter of water for each leg of the flight, and whatever free beverages were offered to me. The timeline of things is a bit fuzzy, but from what I recall, I got super desperate on leg 1, and used my first lifeline in the airplane lavatory right before we started our descent. On leg 2, I managed to discretely sit on a few napkins before the others seated in my row arrived. Using my tray table and laptop as cover, I finally started peeing in my sweatpants after we hit cruising altitude -- only by pushing really hard. I didn’t have to worry about going too much, since the nerves were making it impossible to fully let go with people sandwiched on either side of me — but I did start to get pretty desperate, so I pushed out enough to make it halfway down my thighs, and wet the napkins quite a bit. Arriving at the airport, I used lifeline #2 in the bathroom across from the gate, peeing a torrent through my Speedo for what seemed like an eternity. I patted dry with toilet paper, pulled up my damp sweatpants, and was peeing squirts in them again by the time I got to baggage claim. The line for rental cars was interminable, and I distinctly recall passing the time by continuing to pee squirts in my pants. At this point, I’d hit the sweet state of bladder equilibrium — where it feels like I’m emptying it at the same rate it’s filling up, and that perfect tingle sticks around forever. Nobody was looking at my pants — they were bored out of their minds and playing on their phones, or staring bullet holes at the people behind the counter (all three of them — there should’ve been eight). When I got to my car, I put a plastic bag down on the seat and continued squirting just a little as I drove to the hotel, then squirted more as I waited in line to check in. Somewhere (probably here), I’d read about the courage some omo fan had to muster to pee themselves while actually talking to a hotel clerk face to face, so I made it a point to do that. Achievement unlocked! But then, I was caught off guard: I was told my room wasn’t ready — BUT if I were willing to wait a couple of hours, I could have an upgrade to the coveted one-bedroom suite with a view. Bypassing my brain, my mouth asked, “Can I wait by the pool?” The answer was yes — so it was game on. I used my last lifeline to put my board shorts on over my already-soaked Speedo in the hotel lobby bathroom, then headed to the pool, where I continued pissing myself to my heart’s content on a lounge chair while sipping a frozen margarita. The upgraded room had a Japanese soaking tub, which turned out to be the perfect place to wash my piss-soaked sweatpants. I had a pretty steamy hot phone call with my then-girlfriend (who was really, really into piss, but alas, we didn't stay together long), then almost regretfully showered and put on “real” clothes. After a day of wetting like that, putting on clothes I don’t intend to pee in is always a bummer! But there was more pool time in the days that followed, and there’s no better way to have coffee and breakfast than while slowly pissing yourself on a comfy lounge chair in the morning sun. Anyone else make rules for themselves on a long trip like that? For anyone planning to travel in the near future, I invite you to try The Airplane Game and post your experiences here!