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My pronouns are..


I'm into..

  1. playdelay

    4/4

    From the album: finished drawings

    waffling between grayscale for this and just adding yellow for the pee puddles, wdyt? lol.
  2. playdelay

    3/4

    From the album: finished drawings

  3. playdelay

    2/4

    From the album: finished drawings

  4. playdelay

    1/4

    From the album: finished drawings

  5. I think most of you know it, but there is this one special episode of "What's up with Andy" where he is in a mall busting to pee. As discussed in another topic, I think for me it was one of the key points to this kink and increased the interest in pee. Back than it was an "interesting" episode to me, not knowing about kinks and stuff. But once I started experiment with it, years later, I had to think back to videos video. What do you think about this episode, did it something for you?
  6. Had a little too much fun the night before. Get woken up to ummm. I think you wet the bed. Eyes go wide open my end… sure enough, the clammy wet butt patch feeling. No denying and insisting bedsweater not bedwetter. The most mortifying part of it was all her roomies noticing.
  7. Hii, I'm probably going to do a hold in the next few hours (starting around 22:00 CET), I'm wearing a pair of light bluie skinny jeans and they look too good to stay dry. 😆 Don't really have a plan, as usual feel free to join or make suggestions.
  8. As the title says, any mention or depiction of male wetting for any reason, preferably if it gets addressed by the character themselves or those around him, not just a shot of them wetting themselves and that's it (tho those are still welcome).
  9. Sooo, here's the thing. About 30 min ago, I emptied a mix beer (500ml) and 10 min ago I visited the toilet for the last time. Currently I'm drinking an 750ml bottle of water, which is nearly empty. My plan is to do some chores now and start a new Minecraft survival world in about 15 min when I'm feeling the first urge to pee. I'm only allowed to use the toilet, once I found the first diamonds in the set Minecraft world. And the bottle is empty, but I made a mistake. It is not a 750ml bottle, it's a 840ml one...
  10. All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.
  11. Wetting my pants and dress on the bench outside View File Drinking lots of tea on a lazy Sunday, not too cold today, perfect for a wetting outside. I'm rewetting my old grey pants, wearing a dress, sitting on the bench. Submitter Piano59 Submitted 03/10/2024 Category Male  
  12. 60 downloads

    Drinking lots of tea on a lazy Sunday, not too cold today, perfect for a wetting outside. I'm rewetting my old grey pants, wearing a dress, sitting on the bench.
    Free
  13. Considering I’ve spent the last week of my vacation in diapers exclusively it’s been a bit since I’ve wet the bed. I never really was a bedwetter but I’ve found in recent years that I just love all the sounds and sensations of doing it. The way the warmth spreads, wrapping around me like a warm cozy embrace, the hissing, everything about it is just amazing. Yesterday I was out and about so I spent the day in Goodnites rather than a diaper like I have been and out pure convenience I slipped out of my soaked pullup and into a dry one before bed. Unsurprisingly I ended up leaking a bit at some point and awoke to an ever so slightly damp spot on my pants and a mostly dried pee spot on my sheets and mattress pad. I stripped off my soaked goodnite and threw it in the trash next to my bed and pulled my warm, comfy, mostly dry sweats back up. About 45 minutes later as I was getting ready to get up I realized I need to go. Considering my pants and bedding already smell a bit like pee and need washing anyways I figured why even get up? I’ll just go right here! So I grabbed my phone and did just that 😊 I was soon greeted with all the warm sensations and sounds I’ve missed so much having been in diapers. As I lay here typing this I’m relaxing once again and letting go, feeling the warmth spread to new places this time and thinking that maybe it’s about time I get up, get into a diaper and wash my bedding.... FullSizeRender.mov
  14. 100% true, this just happened a few days ago. I came to NYC for my birthday weekend, and on the first night of arriving, ended up at the gay bar for the Drag Race viewing party. I’m getting shots, and beers, and all sorts of alcohol shoved down my mouth. Not a problem, I figure. Eventually, I make my trek back to the hotel. 40 minute walk, no big deal. I don’t have to pee, I’ll be fine. And I was fine! I got back to the hotel no problem! But I realize now, I’m tanked. Like, real real drunk. So I lay down, rest my eyes, and fall asleep. Four hours pass, and I start to stir. At some point in my barely conscious state, I got out of bed, and ended up on the ground next to the bed… But I have completely and utterly soaked myself. Fully emptied my bladder, no waking up halfway to finish in the bathroom, no I was DRENCHED in piss. Normally if I wet the bed, there’s a moment when I realize what’s happening and stop the flow. Not today, though. I peel off my sopping wet briefs, take off my half soaked t-shirt, throw a towel over my puddle, toss my clothes in the shower, and head to bed. Happy birthday to me, though!
  15. I’ve noticed that my enjoyment of my diapers and my fetish seems to amplify by, for lack of a better term, getting in touch with my feminine side. It has nothing to do with my identity. I am very much a man and enjoy being a man, and feel that I fit just fine in that cis role. But sometimes when I’m going through my nightly rituals - putting down an absorbent pad on my bed, lotioning and powdering up, diapering myself, and sticking a cute pink binky in my mouth, relaxing, letting a gentle stream of pee trickle out, and letting my sinful horny hands wander - I find myself imagining myself as a woman. And I keep doing this, because for so reason there’s something so warm, joyous, liberating and erotic about it. Last night I had the most sensual, riveting and intensely pleasurable bedwetter fantasy/masturbation experience I’ve had in a while. The front of my diaper swelled in humiliating and infantilizing fashion as it did every night before. I imagined that the pee had trickled out not while I was awake, but when I was sleeping, helpless and blissfully unaware of the hiss filling the air and the dampening of my Goodnites training pants. I imagined myself waking with a gasp, either mid-stream or long after the infantile deed was done, discovering my babyish failure to control myself with shock and shame. Deeply aroused and furiously blushing, my hands frantically found their way to the warm, wet, soft, squishy, swollen crotch of my sodden Pull-Ups, to rub and enjoy the sweet sensation of diapers I had been addicted to for so long. As I moaned through my pink pacifier and rolled through wave after wave of pleasure, I imagined myself in all the different beds of all the different places I had ever been, waking up vulnerable and skittish in my wet diapers, embarrassed and fearful of discovery. I imagined all the women I had ever had a soft spot for or a crush on coming into the room. I imagined so many different things: them discovering me, soothing me, supporting me, teasing me, cruelly mocking me, exposing me, emasculating me, mommying me, cuddling me, masturbating me, laughing at me, changing me, spanking me, degrading me… But I also - not all the time, but also not infrequently- imagined myself as a woman. Imagined myself in the feminine, a woman dependent on and in love with her diapers, at times embarrassed of them, at times thoroughly unashamed and euphoric about them. By the time I climaxed in warm, fuzzy, wide-eyed, smiling ecstasy, I was as in love with my diaper fetish as I had ever been. I was supposed to get to sleep at a reasonable hour for my race that night, but it felt so good and felt so right that I couldn’t help but go multiple rounds until I tuckered myself out and - with a buzzing happiness - contentedly drifted off to dream world in my wet and sticky Pampers like the good little sissy baby I was. Last night was magical in a way few nights are. And it won’t be the last time ❤️
  16. Rewetting my old grey pants.mp4 View File Earlier today I went outside the front of my house, sat on the bench, and, after holding for 3 hours, let the pee flow through my pants. I haven't done this for a few months, but it felt Soooo good. Just now I needed to go again, and it just felt right to re-wet my pants from earlier. I'm thiking I might go outside again tomorrow and record me re-wetting my pants again - it's open and expoosed at the front of my house, I hope the neighbours don't see me !. It's funny, I can go without thinking of omo for weeks, and then I'm back there and nothing much can stop me. Does anyone else feel this way? Submitter Piano59 Submitted 03/09/2024 Category Male  
  17. 47 downloads

    Earlier today I went outside the front of my house, sat on the bench, and, after holding for 3 hours, let the pee flow through my pants. I haven't done this for a few months, but it felt Soooo good. Just now I needed to go again, and it just felt right to re-wet my pants from earlier. I'm thiking I might go outside again tomorrow and record me re-wetting my pants again - it's open and expoosed at the front of my house, I hope the neighbours don't see me !. It's funny, I can go without thinking of omo for weeks, and then I'm back there and nothing much can stop me. Does anyone else feel this way?
    Free
  18. Can you see the dark wet stain blossoming out from my crotch as I soak through my Pull-Ups? It’s a little hard to make out 😋 IMG_5517.mov
  19. I woke up with a burst bladder and thought I have never peed in a diaper first thing in the morning, I quickly put on the pull up and ran to the bathroom, when I recorded I had already peed And I let the rest out, OMG I'm writing this with the pull up still hot B612_20240309_084007_551~2.mp4
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