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Found 16 results

  1. I've been into this ever since I can remember. I have vague recollections from my kindergarten years where a kid who was in my class wet himself and I was very interested in it. When I was in elementary school a saw the aftermath of many wetting and I remember being very fascinated with them. I also discovered masturbation very early on: whenever I had to pee, I would play around with myself and it felt really good. I would often lay down on floor, face down, hands in my pants and just enjoy the feeling that a full bladder mixed with genital manipulation gave me. Of course I was totally oblivious to what I was doing. I had a hunch it was something dirty, something "not ok", and never discussed the subject with any adult. I think that might be what cemented the connection between urine and sexuality for me. But it still doesn't explain why I'm specifically into wetting and not just pee. I also remember that were some times when I was interested in both boys and girls wetting their pants, but boys soon took over as the main focus of my interest. I had my own share of wetting accidents as a kid, but nothing out of the ordinary. I was never known as the pee pee pants kid. But I remember I was already fantasizing about my own accidents not too long after they'd happened. When I grew up and entered middle school I started exploring my sexuality and that's when I realized I was something different from the other guys in my class. They were talking about girls and how hot they were, boobs, vaginas, I-fuck-your-mom jokes and all of that middle school silliness, exploring their own developing heterosexuality. I felt lost because I knew girls didn't interest me, but I felt even more lost because I had this deep secret I couldn't tell. I liked boys wetting themselves. That's the only thing I was sure of. But I still didn't know it was a sexual thing. On top of that, I was a pretty regular kid with regular kid interests and hobbies, I liked cars and videogames, didn't talk with a lisp and my wrists weren't limp, so it never dawned on me that I was gay. Even though I was suddenly falling in love with half of my male classmates lol. I know it sounds silly, but that's how stereotypes work in the mind of a middle schooler from 2009 who never knew gay guys could be anything other than trash-tv queens and men who dressed up as women. [I hope my words don't offend anyone. This is just to show how I felt about it back in the day, in the deep recesses of the closet. I love every gay guy no matter how masculine or feminine he is, limp-wristed or not lol. Now back to the story!] I spent the whole prima media year [6th grade] fantasizing about boys wetting their pants in every possible way. I had an old dumb phone that I would use to record tracks of myself becoming vocally desperate and wetting myself in front of the boys I liked. Sometimes it would be the opposite, creating scenarios where the boys I liked would pee their pants and I would react to that. I had an English textbook with little introductory scenes for each lesson unit that had pictures of boys that I found really attractive. Well... I would take a pencil and draw a piss pattern on their pants. Sometimes I would even add a comment from their point of view like "Oh no I pissed myself!" or "oh shit I hope nobody founds out I peed my pants!" Inside a little comic bubble. Lol This until 2010 rolls around. I'm in seconda media [7th grade] and my dad finally decides to have a Wi Fi connection installed in our house. Prior to that, I had no way of accessing the internet. I'm excited but I'm also a bit scared. I didn't know what this secret of mine was about. For all I knew, it might have been a mental illness and I the only person suffering from it in the world. So one day I decide to google something along the lines of "I love pissing my pants" after a similar search in Italian had yielded poor results. And that's how I came across Mikisit's Tumblr page. I couldn't believe my eyes. A treasure trove full of pictures and videos of guys wetting their pants. My hormones were going crazy. But more importantly, Mikisit's Tumblr page made me realize what my secret really was: a sexual fetish. A kink. And I WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT HAD IT! This was a big relief for me, but at the same time it instilled a big fear into me: does this actually mean that... I'm gay? I had my dark moments where I tried to abstain from the fetish in the hopes that it would go away. This would always end in catastrophic failure, since my abstinence only made the inevitable relapse ever so sweeter. At the same time I would try to watch "straight and normal" porn, masturbate to "straight and normal" porn, fantasize about girls... and I reckon I could have fallen asleep faster than getting even mildly aroused. "Straight and normal" porn was the most boring and uninspiring thing there was for me. But then there were also times when the fear of being gay subsided for a while, and that's when I got the courage to wet myself on purpose for the first time. I remember I put on an old pair of briefs I had laying around in my closet, and with a full bladder I hopped inside the shower and... nothing would come out. My brain was stopping me from wetting myself. I'd tried wetting my briefs with water a couple of days before, and it was very exciting. Now i was more excited than ever, but I just couldn't let go. I had to concentrate... And concentrate... And concentrate... When it finally happened. I let it go. I wet myself. I was more excited than I'd ever been. The whole experience just felt ecstatic. How could something this weird, this unusual, this frowned upon feel so damn good? I felt like new doors of perception had been opened to me. As time went by, I became more and more familiar with what the internet had to offer in terms of male omorashi. Mikisit's Tumblr blog and the rest of Tumblr's goodness, the great stories on Experience Project, Yahoo Answers and, of course, Omorashi.org . The good old wetting videos on YouTube and Vimeo. Anything I could lay my hands (or rather, my clicks) on. The years went on and in terza superiore (10th grade) I feel deeply in love with a guy in my class. Another one in the great series of my teenage years' unrequited loves. We had a fight and when our friendship died down it made me feel so sad that I remember crying hidden in my room. This event led me to an epiphany. As if by magic, I suddenly realized I was gay. Now the world made sense. That special interest that I'd had for boys, that was because I was gay. The funny feeling in my tummy when I was with him, that was being in love. And me liking guys wetting themselves... That was also because I was gay. Once I figured it out, I accepted it right away. I'm gay and that's fine. But I still had a problem. I still hadn't fully accepted my fetish. It felt weird that i was able to come out to people, to tell them I was gay, but still had trouble accepting omorashi. The thing is, omorashi is not a secondary thing for me. It is the primary force of my sexuality. It is what really gets my motor going. There is nothing in the world of sex that excites me as much as omorashi does. How could I find my way in the dating world when all my potential partners wanted dick picks, ass picks and talked about anal penetration and being a top or a bottom, when deep inside I wanted to tell them "actually I don't really care about penetrating you or you penetrating me but I would sure love if you could piss your pants for me"? This is a crucial question and it's what stopped me from finding a sexual partner many times. Over the years I finally accepted who I was fully, including my omorashi side. I got more and more brave with my wetting exploits, which I will tell you about in detail in the future. But getting an omorashi partner is always hard. I tried mentioning wetting to people and was ghosted many times. There seem to be fetishes like BDSM, masochism, and foot play that are well known and less taboo to talk about, but omorashi is not. With perseverance I managed to find somebody who would try omorashi for me, and it was a very nice experience. I also got to know a few people who share my passion for wetting, and that was very nice too. But many steps have yet to be made for our community. I want to end this post saying that if you ever feel like your wetting fetish is wrong, don't worry. It's not. You are what you are. It's nobody's choice, nor fault. Wetting your pants feels good and hurts no one! Plus it's also pretty tame and soft-core compared to many other fetishes, so there really is no reason to feel ashamed and to live in denial. As always, feel free to comment, share your thoughts and ideas etc. I really love reading from you and interacting with you. I really hope you enjoyed this read and found it worthwhile.
  2. Part 1 Where do I begin? Was it because I was undergoing puberty, so I had to wear pads stuck to my knickers? Was it because I saw cartoons where the characters of various age wore nappies? Or was it because I keep seeing my one-year old stepbrother in nappies and being carried away to be changed? How about the time I got caught in his stop fingering his pampers? "Cathy what are you doing? “cried my stepmum. "Have you finished your homework? I see your room isn't still tidied. Go clean it." I have finished my homework and what more could I do for my room? I was particularly friendly to my stepmom, I wanted to call her Maryanne, but under her was 'mum' or 'mother' and my father didn't support me. That fingering didn’t stop me from entering my stepbro's room when I could, and I managed to rush out when my stepmum approached. At stores and pharmacies, I would make weird excuses and stare at the baby nappies, the youth brands and even some adult brands with weird names. Then I made my big mistake, I was surfing the net on both my laptop and mobile phone and kept Googling 'nappies', diapers' 'diaper sizes' those sort of terms. I grew hungry, got up and head to the kitchen. When I returned with my glass of milk and snack, there was Maryanne aka stepmother her eyes staring directly at my stuff. "Cathy, would you like to talk?" "No!" I tried to rush over to my own items but somehow, she blocked my path. "Let me go!" I cried. "I think we should talk," she continued with her calm tone, not really restraining me but I still could pass. "Let me go! Those are my own items! This is my privacy! I can Google what I want! I want ...." "Shall we go to you room Cathy? You can carry your laptop and phone yourself." Giving her an angry stare, I did so. I wanted to slam the door but she did it first, slowly. "You have something on your mind," She looked at me. I crossed my arms and didn't answer. "You like something. you want something very much," she continued. "Cathy, come on, this isn’t a scolding, a punishment, I want to help you." I still didn't answer. Then she left and I thought that was it. A minute later, stepmum returned with a large plastic bag with something in it. She sat down next to me on my bed and although I moved away, she just came next to me. "Your brother wears nappies; he's not really much his age but he will be toilet trained. Now, while you do like what he wears, " I turned away, "I want to show you..." I heard a loud rustle and although I was pissed off, I turned back and to my shock, there was an unfolded large adult nappy in her hands. "Stepmum, me, Maryanne to you, has weak bladder at night and has to wear these. Really, truly. While I sleep with your dad, there's a plastic pad under my side of the bed but these help catch any unwanted pee." "You...you...you really wear nappies?!" I was now really shocked. "Always at night Cathy, sometimes early morning before I head down to make breakfast. Go ahead, touch them." I waited for a half a minute, then placed both of my hands on the item. I felt the cloth-plastic texture, turned it to see purple markings, a circle over the letter M and the world 'Tena' on the top. My step mum explained a bit more and then drop the million-pound question, "Do you want to wear a nappy?" I didn't want to answer then burst out, "the websites say I 'm a freak! I'm a baby! I have a twisted mind! But I'm so advanced, I've got boobs, most girls in my class don't! I've got my period but other girls don't, I don't want to, I don't want to..." My Stepmum caught as tears flooded my eyes and rocked me till I calmed down. "You're none of those, Cathy yes you are advanced, you are clever you just like something people you age don't...." "That makes me a freako..." I showed her a site I found on the internet. She calmly typed another link which gave a vastly different view. "Stepmom has to wear these. You think she likes them? It is babyish but I don't see that. Your father doesn't either or we won't be here. Now there's nothing wrong with liking or wanting to wear these, she held up the package this time. "So…what? You going to tell Dad? You going bring me to a shrink?" I still wasn’t very certain. "I'm going to let you wear nappies." My eyes may have bulged out at that statement. "Nah, I won't mention it to your father, deal?" I gingerly shook her hand. "These are too large for you," she pointed at the package, "and no, baby nappies won't fit you, I guarantee. At best, you are a S size, maybe XS size." "You really will let me wear nappies?!" I exclaimed. With more discussion, we were certained. After taking measurements of my hips and waist, my Stepmum said she would be back in an hour or so from a store. I was happy to stay at home; I didn't to me out while she was buying nappies that I would wear. Exactly as promised, she returned, and with closed room, I pulled out the smaller package. "Tena Slip Junior," I read out the label. The package had more than thirty youth nappies! I tore the whole package. "Should have just tore a small side, but never mind. You want to put on one yourself?" It was like being granted a wish you always wanted. I never changed myself in front of Maryanne, but I just ignored her, removed my slacks and pink knickers and shifted the nappy under my butt. Remembering what I searched on the net, I pulled up the sides and then tried to tape them simultaneously. What I got was my fingers stuck to the tapes. "Shall I help out?" Before I could answer, Stepmum swiftly taped the top left side first, the swiftly bottom right side then both other sides snugly. "Stand up, walked around she how it feels," she suggested. I did so and although the bulk was definitely there, it wasn't uncomfortable. A cry came, and my Stepmum excused herself to tend to my stepbrother, leaving me nappied. Part 2 With Stepmum gone. I continued walking around my room, trying to get use to the feeling of the padded item taped snugly to my crotch and in between my legs. It felt a bit weird and uncomfortable but slowly that disappeared and the nappy felt just like a padded knicker, like wear several sanitary napkins stuck to my undies. I lay on my bed and rolled around. It really felt wonderful. But could I manage to wear it for a long time? Would Dad find out would he agree or tell me to take them off? I got down on my floor and started to roll again thinking about the nappies until Stepmum returned, breaking my thoughts. "Trying to get used to the nappy?" She smiled, but I didn't reply the smile as I scrambled up. "Better put back your slacks; it's getting colder. Now I need you to watch your baby brother as I head back out to get more stuff for your nappies," she remarked. "More stuff?" I was curious. "You'll see, now come out and watch over your brother." Stepbrother I wanted to say but fell silent. He was clad in a thick onesie legs in socks and sucking a dummy or better known as a pacifier elsewhere. I was quite sure I didn't want to suck a dummy; I never sucked on stuff except maybe straws and ice cream sticks. As for the onesie, well it was like a leotard or one-piece swimsuit. I wasn't sure I wanted to wear that though the forums I glanced at said that what diaper lover would wear. My brother didn't move or cry much as I watched him until I heard my Stepmum return and gestured me to return to my room and closed the door. "These are needed if you wish to wear a nappy for the long-term," she announced pulling out a large plastic sheet. "Although you are wearing a high-quality nappy, there still is a chance you may leak. So, I need to place plastic sheets under your bed and over your room chair." "Plastic sheets?" I exclaimed. "I read up they crinkle." "Not this kind," she replied. "Watch," She removed my duvet, blanket and bedsheet. A plastic sheet was placed securely over and the bedsheet was placed back." Sleep and roll over," she instructed and I did. Only the slightest crinkle came out. "See?" She said and also plastic-proof my room chair. "I won't do the dining room chairs or sofa, but be careful," She added. "Second," She pulled out a tube of cream. "This is an anti-rash cream. You should, no, must put it around your private parts and perhaps anus before taping on a nappy. I'll excuse it for the one you have on but the next one, you should apply the cream. I don't want to this kind get rash." I nodded, remembering the times my stepbrother got nappy rash. "Third item," She held up a bucket. "Throw your used nappy in this bin. It has anti-bacterial, anti-virus lining so that helps. It also has a cover so you won't have to smell the nappy in this room. Don't throw the nappies in other bins." "Fourth, wipes," She held up some baby wipes and I cringed. "Oh, you need them. Clean your area before and after you tape on the nappy. I won't recommend powder for you; it might entice rash." "Is that all?" I asked. "No, we need to set some rules Cathy." So, across the next hour, we discussed and wrote down rules. I will be able to wear nappies provided by her at home and only at home for the moment. Not to school or in public, just as yet. I will wear and use them only for pee not for poo. I must not use the nappy until full but change when around two-thirds or three-quarter full to avoid rash. Then again, I shouldn't waste a nappy after one or two wettings or if the tapes are too loose. I should learn to tape or change myself. If I can't or get stuck, I should go to her to help tape on the nappy. All nappy changes should occur in my room or in locked rooms. As stated in 1) and 2), nappies are for peeing only. If the nappy can't be taped on after using the toilet for poo, then I can use a new nappy but generally wear the nappy until it should be changed. Nappies should not be intentionally shown; clothes should be worn over my nappies at home. Besides the nappies, I will not act as a baby or perform babyish acts. I will not suck a dummy or my fingers. I may consider wearing a onesie or bodysuit, but not just as yet. The nappy wearing will be a secret. Only myself, Stepmum, maybe my Dad will know about it. I should not tell any of my friends or relatives, lest risk teasing or negative comments, maybe later on, I would reveal this secret. I will be respectful to my parents, do my school work and household chores as usual. I will not complain about the lack of nappy provisions, or altering to any of points 1) to 7). I will continue to learn about being a nappy or diaper lover. I will not visit adult, 18+ websites on my laptop and phone and let my parents check what sites I visit. I will enjoy wearing nappies. We both signed this list and Stepmum pinned it on my bulletin board. "You can hide this if there are guests that wish to enter your room," She suggested. I was about to return to my desk when I heard the front door open and my dad call out. "Let's go greet him," Mum suggested. "But..." I pointed at my crotch. "No one can see anything. Besides, you always greet your father when he returns home." I thought for a few seconds, ensured my sweater cover my slacks, and join her out. "How's my beautiful Cathy?" My Dad kissed me on my forehead as he lifted me up like he always did. "Great, Dad," I replied, really hoping he didn't see the outline of my nappy as he held me and lowered me down. "How's your day? Helped your mother, did your homework and chores?" I said 'yes' to the second and third questions, he nodded and left to change out of his work clothes. I went back to my room and heaved a sigh of relief. It was dinner time and I sat in my usual chair opposite my parents. My Stepmum was busy feeding my brother while my Dad was trying to talk to me. It was usual chatter, how was school so far, my favourite subjects, what I was hoping to be when I grew up that sort of talk. While we talked, I was still conscious about my nappy, which was still dry. I kept crossing and un-crossing my legs as I talked to Dad. Dinner flew by fast and I offered to clear the dishes, hoping to hide out in my room. Just as I held out the last plate, I felt Dad's hand on my shoulder and asked, "You wearing some new type of underwear?" I turned and said no but almost dropped the plate, shivering. "I don't want to intrude on your choice of clothing, but are you wearing something padded? I saw your underwear stick out of your slacks. Like what your mum wears to sleep." I walked backwards, not answering him. Just then, my Stepmum entered and gave the dreaded answer, "Barry, she's wearing a nappy." I really nearly dropped the plate. The three of us sat in the living room and my Stepmum explained the course of events that happened previously. Dad sat only asking, "Why?" "How?" "Did You encourage her" then let her continue. She even brought the list we made earlier and showed it to him, stressing I would be wearing only at home for now. She concluded, "it's not smoking, or drugs, or even sex. She just really likes them. It's not harmful; you remember how I had to explain why I had to wear to sleep when we first met? Let her wear." "Dad..." I began with a dry mouth. "Sweetie, he faced me, "I was shocked initially. But now, after all this talk, I'm not. I agree," he drew out his pen and to point 7, ' cancelled 'maybe'. "Hug?" He asked me. I still trembled he knew about it, the accepted his hug like I always did. Back in my room, after surfing the web. I was reading a book when a familiar signal came. My bladder! I ran to my toilet door then, remembered what was taped around me waist. Should I? I paced around the room, then sat back on my chair and for the very first time, peed in a youth nappy. Part 3 I couldn't believe it initially, I actually peed in a diaper! Wait, it was me who wanted to wear a nappy daily, so I should be so shocked about peeing in them? I felt my bladder empty again; but a smaller piss. Curious how wet my Tena Slip Junior was, I lowered my sweat pants and turned to the mirror. The indicator had indeed changed. I moved forward and could see it colour but couldn't see the full change in the indicator. I ran out of my room and managed to find my stepmum reading a women's magazine and in her nightclothes and a dressing gown. I blurted out what happened and she took me by both hands to a side room, closing the door. "Congratulations Catherine, you took your next step in the nappy world!" She declared then asked to see my nappy. "It's not that wet; just damp," She noted. "You sure?" "Of course, darling," I hated it when she called me that but kept quiet. " It's just a normal pee, right?" I nodded. "The Tena can take more than that. Head back and you should change when it feels thick or when you are about to sleep; I don't want you in a wet or soaked nappy asleep." I still was uncertain about the nappy but nodded and retreated to my room. I went back surfing the net, viewing typical girly websites. I then shifted to nappy stuff. Most of it was cover Adult Baby stuff or how to be little. I skipped those and after much searching, I found non-AB websites but they were regarding incontinent people. Several of them required you to declare that you were just wanting to discuss only incontinence subjects or are only incontinent. I just read through the threads and chats not only able to say 'agree' occasionally. After another hour, I reached for my water tumbler and drank a huge load. Minutes later, I peed again, this time more. I checked my nappy and this time the indicator was two-thirds wet. Wow, I thought. I peeled off the nappy and boy was it really stained. Throwing it the bucket, I grabbed some wet wipes--I didn't like the label's term 'baby wipes'--and cleaned my area thoroughly. Then I pulled out a fresh nappy. Trying to remember how my stepmum helped the first time, I slowly managed the four tapes. The Tena Slip was taped on but I wasn't sure whether it was secure enough. I was about to head out again when I heard a knock. "Cathy? You ready for bed?" "Uh, I yes, but I..." I opened the door for her with my new nappy exposed. "Good girl, you changed yourself, but that's still a bit loose," she remarked. She told me to lie back down and within seconds, the nappy was snug, not too tight. "Don't worry; after practice you'll get used to changing. Good Night." "Good Night," I greeted back and took off my clothes ready to change to my pyjamas. Just in a nappy, I saw myself a pyjamas girl with growing breasts but taped in a nappy. Was this how I wanted it to be? I put on my night clothes and tucked myself in. I had a nightmare that my friends and classmates found out I like and was wearing a nappy and drew on my clothes. Then I had a nice dream that there were tons on unmarked boxes containing nappies for me and I would have an unlimited supply. I woke up the next day and immediately found that I wet my nappy when asleep! It wasn't that wet; but after checking check the indicator showed it was more than half wet. I still took it off, along with my night clothes and entered the shower. It was a welcoming cleansing, especially 'down there'. Back in my room, I again attempted to properly put on a new nappy. Checking in the mirror, I assumed this Tena Slip was taped snugly and dressed. Downstairs, I greeted my parents and sniffed the wonderful smell of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. Before I could sit down, stepmum shook her head and guided me to a side room. With my stepbrother Edward sucking his dummy and trying to learn how to walk in one corner, my step mum asked again to see how my nappy was taped. "Not bad, but you must pull it up higher, it helps to prevent any leakage." I nodded and gobbled down my breakfast, help clear up then headed back to my room, checked that I finished my school work then when online again and logged onto the incontinence forum. It was mostly quiet for a Sunday and a repetitive talk of how to treat incontinence and less about nappy or diaper wearing. I browed through the other sites, but once more they were filled with ABs, littles or fake mummies and daddies. Darn, how can I learn to be a nappy or diaper lover? Daydreaming, I intentionally peed in my new nappy, most definitely emptying the breakfast tea. My stepmum broke my thoughts, asking me to help her to prepare Sunday lunch. Walking down, I thought my nappy was thick but as I met stepmum, she didn't say anything as she dressed the chicken. I remaining standing, my butt facing her as I chopped the vegetables. So, it's my imagination that I'm too well padded at the back. Prep over, I headed back and found the call of nature. I tried to pee standing up, but it didn't work and I sat on my chair to let the pee trickle into my nappy. Darn, I'm not a boy or I'm not so advanced in peeing in a nappy standing up. Amazingly the nappy wasn't full! Lunch talk with my folks was about school life, subjects that I love and what job I was aiming for. I couldn't really answer the last question but my parents shifted the discussion between themselves. As I helped clear up, I again felt another signal; I had to poo. I didn't want to use the nearby toilet and quickly helped washed the plates then scooted up to the loo in my room. I managed to peel off the Tena Slip in time. After flushing, I tried to put back the same nappy since it didn't look that stained. But no, the tapes had lost much of their adhesive now. I dumped it in the pail and taped on a new one, double checking it was secure enough. The rest of Sunday was normal or rather boring with me ensuring my room was clean, checking again that I've completed school work and finding nothing interesting on the incontinence forums. By late evening, I was preparing for bed early when my step mum entered and checked that my night nappy was taped properly. "Enjoy your sleep with it Cathy, remember it's a school day and you'll be back in your pants." School day! No nappy wearing in the day! Argh!!! TBC
  3. On the Europe school trip, which was six years later after the Blip and on this trip Peter was drawn to Michelle’s bathroom habits. Throughout the trip he discovered that he realised he had a crush on MJ. Before the snap or which some people call the blip happened, the same thing happened towards another girl at his school and that was Liz Toomes. He started to notice Liz’s accidents and this unlocked a bit of a secret to him, which made him attracted to a fetish that consists of wetting and desperation of girls. One thing he hoped for is that MJ would be exactly like Liz a sexy girl with a small bladder. To Peter the reality of this trip came true, which was that MJ would exactly be like how he remembered Liz by her accidents. Peter Parker’s favourite part of the trip was the flight from New York to Venice and to tell you why, we’ll it’s darn simple. Pete went to use the airplane bathroom and when he opened the door stood MJ looking like she needs to go so bad. Parker quickly shuts the door and starts pretending to clean the toilet seat, as a way to make MJ wait longer. Michelle was getting frustrated she quietly spoke in an angry voice “Peter please hurry up I’ve got go!” There was no reply back from Peter and this infuriated MJ. It was just in a matter of seconds when Michelle Jones first felt a squirt escape her and immediately looked around, no one was awake so that was great she could grab herself like a young girl without anyone looking at her. She bent over slightly and jammed her hands into her crotch, she grabbed her crotch area of her black jeans and started doing the pee pee dance. The thought of a 18 year old acting like a little kid was embarrassing to herself and aim to get a stronger bladder. She now was feed up with Parker and banged on the door and quietly said “Hurry up Peter... please.” Again no reply but inside that bathroom Peter was getting all excited about this, but the one who he is getting excited for isn’t too happy with this predicament. Just then another wave hit Spidey’s crush and made her scream a bit, Miss Jones was getting scared about wetting herself now because it was on its last legs. She couldn’t use the bathroom behind her because some person has been in there since the start of her desperation and she wouldn’t make it if she walked to the other bathroom where Pete and Ned were originally seated. She was not one of those girls who would rush back to their seat and use something else as a toilet, she would definitely not use the sick bag as a device to pee in nor will she use the blanket the plane provided to pee on. There was no other choose, but the option she definitely does not like, and that was wetting herself right now and having a so called “accident”. She took a deep breath in and with out any hesitations she started peeing, her golden stream bolted out from her pussy and ran into her pink panties and which soaked both the front and the back. She couldn’t help it but she moaned softly about her accident, the only person who heard it was Peter and by the sounds of MJ made him sexually attracted to her, which made Spider-Man quite aroused. The stream died down shortly after that and she actually enjoyed being wet after the embarrassment she took upon. Luckily her jeans were black and didn’t show much of the accident, but can you imagine if she wasn’t wearing black jeans and everyone would make fun of her but not the one who forced her to do this. The wet MJ went back to her seat and smiled to herself because of what Mr Parker did to her and after her enjoyment, Mr Parker left the bathroom leaving Brad to go after him. To Be Continued...
  4. Mary Bromfield is your average teen girl, sexy, smart and loves teen films. Mary is also not normal she is the alter ego for Mary Marvel, who is Shazam/Billy Batson’s adopted twin sister. She is 18 and is about to finish school when she got her powers, she was in bed still it was 7:50 and naked. Her alarm went off within two minutes later, she shifted her ass to move herself to get closer to her bedside counter. She turned her iPhone alarm off but felt she had to pee quite desperately. She immediately grabbed her crotch to hold back her floodgates, it was Saturday and everyone was still asleep. What could she do if she said the name she’ll probably wake everyone up, it was either humiliation or waking everyone up. Mary knew she wouldn’t make it to the toilet because she felt like she could explode at any second. She had the biggest bulge ever as she stared at herself nude, she felt a tinkle of pee release from her body and onto her bed. She was scared, if she allowed herself to have an accident in bed like a little girl, Billy might make fun of her forever and exposing it to her friends. She said the name under her breath “Shazam!” She changed into her Shazam form, her bulge wasn’t big and she didn’t need to go. She wanted to do this hold her pee in as Mary Marvel and then later make it to the toilet and change back and release her desperation. She went back to sleep, she slept peacefully and didn’t have dreams about her releasing her distressing urge. It was 9:00 when she got up now it was time. By that time her adult desperation had gone up but not as urgent as her teen desperation, she raced to the bathroom and once arriving at the door was locked someone was inside. She knocked on the door, “Mary is that you?” “Billy please hurry up I need to go!” She said quietly, “Don’t worry I won’t be too long in here.” Said Billy. Mary was getting so desperate she grabbed her crotch in adult form now both her forms were in big trouble, if she stayed in her teen form she would already have wet the bed. “Billy please hurry. I’m bursting so badly to go! Please I have to pee!” “Hold on Mary.” Billy realised that Mary was in her Shazam form and said to her “Mary why are you in your Shazam form?” “Billy I had to go already at 7:50. I was lazy and I wanted to hold it in for a bit longer. Just please hurry I think I’m about to go any second.” Billy finished and was awestruck when seeing his foster sister naked. He got a bit aroused and Mary could see it please by the time Billy was staring at her she was grabbing hold of her crotch, she walked in and shut the door. She raced towards the toilet as she could feel her leaking, small leaks expanding into big ones. She plonked her sexy thick ass on the toilet and in relief said the name “Shazam!” And when she said the word she turned back into her teenage self and thoroughly started peeing in relief and Marry couldn’t help it but moan softly as it was so damn warm. Her floodgates started to close she enjoyed her holding and then cleaned her wet pussy and then flushed the toilet. When she was finished all of that , she made her way back to her room to get dressed for the day. To Be Continued...
  5. A Change of Heart and Pants Persona 5 fanfiction by MasterXploder With thanks to Nikeryda and Sake for editing (Note: Contains minor story spoilers, and some mature themes. Reader discretion advised) “This is your fault!” A busy city street. A crowd of shadows gathering around her. “Why don’t you say something?” N-No, I didn’t… A car dented at the front. A body lying in the middle of the road. Red along the pavement. “You killed her!” “She did this because of you!” The shadows surrounded her, fingers pointed and voices growing louder. She fell to her knees and shut her eyes. I didn’t mean to… “You deserve to die!” “When will you wake up?” I… deserve… “Wake up!” To… d-d… “Futaba, wake up!” “H-Huh!?” Futaba opened her eyes. The street, the shadows, the body, all of it had disappeared. Instead, she saw the ceiling of her room, and the face of Sojiro Sakura, her guardian, holding her shoulders. “W-what’s going on?” she muttered. “Take it easy,” said Sojiro, “It was just a bad dream. It’s over now.” “A dream?” Memories of that horrible nightmare returned to her at once, with all the twisted feelings they created. If only it was just a nightmare, she thought to herself. “Are you alright, Futaba?” asked Sojiro, “You were yelling in your sleep. I could hear you even in my room.” It had happened again, another vivid hallucination, this time in her sleep. Futaba could not find the words to speak, and only shook her head. Sojiro took a moment to sigh and lifted Futaba up to a sitting position. “Come on, let’s get you out of bed. You probably don’t want to keep lying in… that.” “In… what?” Futaba sat in confusion for a second, but then gasped. She became aware of a sharp smell and a cold, wet feeling against her crotch, butt, legs, and lower back, much too large to just be from sweat. A glance to her legs confirmed her fears. She had tossed the covers off her bed during her nightmare, revealing a large, dark patch on her futon. Her black sleep shorts had a noticeable shine at the crotch with the light on them, and a slight glisten could be seen on her inner thighs. “Oh… oh no,” whimpered Futaba, her eyes becoming shiny with tears. “I’m so s-sorry, Sojiro.” “Hey, hey, don’t worry about it.” Sojiro put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just glad that nightmare is over. Now, why don’t you go run yourself a bath while I clean up this mess?” She wanted to sit there and cradle herself like the worthless kid she was, but Sojiro would never allow that. “O-okay,” she replied, letting him help her onto her feet. Grabbing a fresh set of nightwear, Futaba made the slow walk of shame from her room to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she barely paid attention as she started the bath and removed her wet clothes. While the tub filled, she sat on the toilet and let the tears fall onto her lap, the running water drowning out her sobs. Sojiro was wrong; this nightmare would never be over for her. Tonight had shown that she was not safe from an attack even in her sleep. Wetting the bed for the first time since she was a toddler only cemented it for her. This was her punishment, and she would suffer for her sins until the day she died like she so deserved. Things couldn’t be any better today. This was the feeling Futaba Sakura had all morning as she walked up the stairs to her room, humming a tune from a retro video game. It had been so long since she felt this way, she had forgotten what it was like to be optimistic about the future. It was like she was almost floating on air with how weightless she felt. Then again, her summer outfit, a sleeveless tank top with a Tetris reference and gray cargo pants, might have helped with that, too. Of course, this didn’t come about on its own. She had the Phantom Thieves of Hearts to thank for her new outlook on life. They had gone through the ordeal of stealing the treasure within her Palace in the Metaverse, causing the change of heart that made her into the witty and determined girl she used to be. No longer did she think of this house as her tomb, the place she was destined to die in. Now, it was her base of operations where she could do some good for the world. But first, she had a debt to repay. Reaching the door to her room, she pushed it open and turned around, putting her hands behind her back. “So, be honest. Is this the first time you’ve ever been invited to a girl’s room?” She looked with a playful smile at Ren Amamiya, leader of the Phantom Thieves, and his cat companion Morgana. At her remark, Ren’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he glanced towards the corner. Futaba giggled. “Well, it’s not like I’m one to talk. I barely left my room for who knows how long until this morning. I guess you could say you guys were my get-out-of-self-induced-jail card.” “Er, glad to hear that,” said Ren, turning back to her. “I hate that we’re asking you for a favor so soon, but we’re really counting on you to come through for us now.” “Right, the Medjed thing,” replied Futaba, “If that’s all you’re asking me to do, I gotta say, I feel like I walked away with all the good loot at the end of a team quest.” Turning back, Futaba stepped into her room, a shut-in nerd’s paradise if ever there was one. Newspapers and hard books littering the floor, anime character figurines in pristine condition, a high-end computer with several monitors, and a starry curtain blocking out the sunlight created an atmosphere very different from the rest of the house. Futaba took a seat in her gaming chair and began tapping at her keyboard. “It’s my turn to help out,” she declared. “Hmph, ‘Medjed.’ How do we cook them?” “Um, I’ll leave that up to you,” said Ren, “Just try not to go overboard.” “Roger that.” “Hey, Futaba?” came a voice from behind her, “We don’t have much time left. Are you sure you could do this?” Futaba turned around and balked at what she saw. “Th-The kitty talked!?” “I’ll explain it later. Metaverse stuff,” said Ren. “R-Right.” Futaba looked back at her monitor. “Eh, I guess it doesn’t matter. Let’s get cracking!” Thus began Futaba’s latest hacking crusade. Her target: Medjed, the anonymous internet vigilantes-turned-cyberterrorists that were threatening to expose all of Japan’s private information if the Phantom Thieves did not unmask themselves. She knew better, though; it was most likely some random wannabe hacker using the name to achieve their own goal. Whoever they were, Futaba was certain she could code circles around them. The computer world was where she excelled; she was not about to let some script kiddie show her up. Morgana paced back and forth on Futaba’s bed, looking annoyed all the while. He glanced towards Futaba, who was leaning into her many monitors, her fingers dancing across the keyboard while the rest of her body seemed motionless in comparison. “You’re just tapping away over there,” he said, “Are you sure this will work?” “Mm-hmm… Mmm… Hmm…” “Hey, Futaba!” “Heh heh heh…” Morgana blinked a couple times. “I don’t think she can hear me. Talk about intense concentration.” He glanced around the room, the floors in particular, where much of the hardwood could not be seen underneath all the newspapers, books, and garbage bags. “This place is so messy, I’m surprised she can focus at all. Futaba, you should really clean your room a bit.” “Huh…” “She’s not listening…” Morgana sighed. “Oh well, just waiting around is boring. Let’s clean this place up.” Ren nodded in response, and the two went to work tidying up the room for her. With her guests not focused on her, Futaba breathed a sigh of relief. As focused as she was, she had still picked up on the part where they wouldn’t be paying attention to her. Now, she could bite her lip and cross her legs a little more without feeling so self-conscious. In the time since she had started her counterattack on Medjed, Futaba remembered a few things. First, proper computer hacking could take a while. Second, coffee was a natural diuretic. Most importantly, the last time she had used the bathroom was before she fell asleep from exhaustion after awakening to her persona. She didn’t need smarts to know what all that added up to, not when she could feel it pulsing from her groin. “Mmm…” she groaned from another of her bladder’s many protests. This sort of nuisance was nothing new to her. For as much time as she spent on the computer, she had occasionally wrestled with her bladder trying to pull her away from whatever she was focused on at the time. At one point, she had attempted to use a bottle as an emergency toilet during a particularly lengthy MMO raid. The resulting mess on the floor and chair discouraged her from trying that again. Not that she was about to do that with others in her room, or let them know of her problem in the first place. They had gone through all sorts of trouble to give her another chance at life, and now they only asked for her help with this one problem in return. What would it look like if she stopped in the middle of her task to retreat for a potty break? Embarrassing for one, it was tough enough to let Sojiro know she was heading for the bathroom. Even without that, thinking of running to the toilet brought back visions of her past self, the scared girl that would wet the bed and cry in helplessness. She was not that girl anymore. Futaba had been given an extra life, and she would not take a break until the job was done. “Mmmm… Come on…” An orange glow from the setting sun peeked in around the corners of the curtains. Not that Futaba needed another marker for how much more time had passed. The growing pain in her groin was doing a good job of that by itself. It seemed for every keystroke made, another drop of urine fell into her bladder, only reminding her of how much more work still needed to be done. She was glad to have glanced behind her when things got really quiet and found both Ren and Morgana had dozed off on her futon. That meant she didn’t have to hide her need to pee any longer. As such, she had formed a pattern of bouncing in her seat, squeezing and twisting her legs together, rocking back and forth, and anything else she could think of to keep her gray cargo pants and 50,000 yen gaming chair dry and stain-free. But even with all her holding techniques, Futaba’s confidence wavered with each passing minute. Could she really get this all done and still reach the bathroom in time? She certainly couldn’t take a break now, not when Medjed’s supposed cleanse could start at any time. Even so, the idea still proved very tempting. All she had to do was sneak past her sleeping friends, shuffle into the bathroom, sit on the toilet and- “Eep!” Just the mental image of letting go was enough to make her bladder jump the gun. Before she could stop it, a spurt of pee shot through her defenses and hit her underwear, creating a wet feeling down there that made her break into a sweat. Futaba hunched forward and shot a hand from the keyboard to right between her legs. She had no choice but to divert all her focus from stopping a massive information leak to stopping a massive waste leak. Whimpering through her teeth with one eye shut, Futaba wondered if this was her limit. She could not remember the last time she had to go this badly, even including her attempted bottle pee. Her bladder was at the fullest it had ever been, but there was still so much left to do. Was her quest truly doomed to fail here? No, she couldn’t give up now, not after the Phantom Thieves went through so much trouble to save her. She was free from the cycle of despair and self-loathing that had plagued her for so long; to give in now would be like dropping to her previous form after obtaining a sleek, new evolution. “I won’t… lose!” She declared as she lifted the hand from her groin and placed it back on the keyboard. “Come on, Futaba, it’s comeback time!” Furrowing her brow and squeezing her legs harder than ever, Futaba started her last desperate push to finish her challenge. Despite the pressure hitting her just as hard, she entered into a level of concentration unlike ever before, as if guided by some supernatural force. Every keystroke, every mouse click, every last line of code was made with twice the speed and scrutiny. Even in her zen-like hacking, she was still well aware of how close she was to bursting. The waves of pain continued as always, as did her many motions and moans to keep from soaking everything below her. No matter how much it hurt, she refused to stop. The Phantom Thieves had passed the baton to her, and she’d be damned if she let them down now. This determination kept her going right to the very end. With a heavy, tired push of the “Enter” key, Futaba set in motion the program that would take down Medjed’s server, only to bring it back up with the Phantom Thieves’ calling card plastered front and center. That wasn’t all; the names of almost everyone associated with Medjed, including the one behind the threats to Japan, would be revealed for the whole world to see. The program was still in the middle of progress, but Futaba knew she had won. Leaning back and stretching her arms out, she let out a triumphant cry of “I’m doooone!” “W-what’s up? Something happened?” said a groggy Morgana as he stood straight up from his sudden awakening. “It’s finished,” Futaba replied. “Finished? What is?” Futaba made to turn around and look right at the two, but something else caught her eye first, namely how visible her room’s floor was now. “Ah, it’s so clean! Why?” “We cleaned it,” responded Morgana in an annoyed manner, “Anyway, is it true? Did you really take care of Medjed?” Futaba looked around her room, her eyes wide in astonishment. “I handled them, and someone else handled my room! I don’t understand, but this is g-aahh!?” Futaba’s entire body froze up. Another spurt leaked out, this one going through her underwear and onto her pants. She hunched over and shoved her hands into her legs at once. “Futaba!” shouted Ren, standing up and running to her side. “Whoa! What’s wrong?” said Morgana, doing the same. “Ah… hahhh…” Forming a proper response was out of her abilities at the moment, especially with her face contorted as it was. She could not move a single muscle, no matter how badly she wanted to. “Morgana, does this have to do with her Palace and Shadow?” asked Ren. “I-I don’t know! That whole infiltration was unorthodox. Who knows what effects it might have had on her?” Futaba wanted to tell them her problem was more embarrassing than that almost as much as she wanted to get on the toilet right now. Unfortunately, she knew that neither of those things could happen now. A single motion would break her hold completely, not that it wasn’t about to do so anyway. Only a couple more seconds passed before it did just that. Futaba squeaked again right as her accident began, starting with a light dribble that would not stop no matter how hard she squeezed. It soaked through her panties and went to work creating a wet patch at the crotch of her pants. This wetness spread downwards to her butt, forming a pool that gave both cheeks a good bath. “F-Futaba?” asked Ren. Morgana sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “Wait, is this…” “Oooooohhhhhh!” In that moment, Futaba realized that trying to hold it back any further was pointless. This battle was lost, so she may as well get it over with. As such, she closed her eyes, and let her pee come out in full force. The effect was immediate. A faint hissing sound started up, making Morgana’s ear twitch. The golden pool at her bottom grew outwards, becoming visible to everyone in the room. It spread to the edge of her seat, where it spilled off the chair and onto the carpet in a series of piddling drops. A bit of urine continued down her legs as well, leaving wet trails along the back of her pants and damp spots on her socks. At first, Futaba’s mind remained devoid of thought, like a hard drive spinning without loading anything. All she could focus on was all the senses of her accident, the smell and touch growing stronger by the second. Towards the end, however,the harsh truth of what happened set in. A complete failure to hold her pee like a normal person, getting it all on her chair, with people important to her there to witness everything; she had officially hit the worst-case scenario. Her face as red as Ann’s thief outfit, Futaba opened her eyes and let out one last groan as her bladder finished emptying in the worst possible way. “I don’t think this has anything to do with her Palace or Shadow,” commented Morgana. “I see that now.” Ren put a hand behind his head and did his best to only look at Futaba’s head. “Are you okay?” I am the least okay that I could be possibly be right now! is what she wanted to say. The feeling of lukewarm urine all over her lower body and the smell of ammonia brought back memories of the night she had wet the bed. All the crushing emotions from then rose up, and she could feel her eyes watering and clouding her vision. A sound from her computer pulled her attention away. She looked at the monitor and found a new pop-up box front and center, the word “successful” sticking out like a rare drop from a felled enemy, and remembered what was truly important here. Against all odds, Futaba had prevailed in taking down her target. Sure, it had still been a messy end for her, but it didn’t matter. For a moment, her accident seemed so inconsequential when she had just saved all of Japan from an economic crisis. Her frown slowly closed and lifted into a small smile. “Gotcha.” “Futaba? You’re really starting to worry us,” said Morgana. “Hmm?” Futaba remembered the other two present. “Did you guys say something?” “We’ve been saying something for awhile.” “We’re just worried, that’s all,” said a red-faced Ren, “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” “Oh, um, y-yeah, sure! Why wouldn’t I be fine right now?” Futaba stammered. “Futaba...” Morgana muttered with a worried look. Futaba looked away and sighed. “Okay, so peeing my pants was not part of Operation Medjed Meltdown. Definitely not the greatest moment of my hacking career.” “I’m sorry about this,” said Ren. “We didn’t mean for you to push yourself so hard for us.” “I mean, we were pressed for time today,” admitted Morgana. “I guess neither of us realized how long hacking really takes.” “This wasn’t your fault,” said Futaba, shaking her head. “I got so excited about helping you guys out and doing some good for the world, and I ended up making a noob mistake. If my mom were here right now, she’d be trying to help me and reprimand me at the same time.” Both Ren and Morgana glanced away, unable to think of any way to respond to the delicate subject. “But, you wanna what the weirdest thing about all this is?” continued Futaba, “I’m… not really that upset about this.” “Y-You’re not?” asked Ren. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s super-embarrassing, and if you say a word of this to anyone, I’ll have to tell Sojiro that you were being mean to me.” “Er, y-you don’t have to worry about that,” Ren quickly responded. Even Morgana formed a bead of sweat at the threat of an angry Sojiro. “But like I said, this isn’t upsetting me as much as I thought. If this had happened just a few days ago, I would’ve wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and pray that I would just die already.” She once more thought of the night she wet the bed. Even when steeped in her pee, it seemed so long ago now, like a memory from a previous life. It was enough to make her smile a little. “But this? This doesn’t hurt nearly as bad. It almost feels like… victory.” “Victory?” asked Ren. Futaba’s smile dropped away as she caught another whiff of her waste. “Aaaand victory feels really gross now.” “I’m surprised you’ve been sitting in it all this time, to be honest,” said Morgana, twitching his nose again. “You should get cleaned up. Ren and I can handle the mess for you in here. It’s the least we can do.” “That’s not a bad idea,” said Futaba, “But, I think I have a better plan right now.” Not waiting for a response, Futaba grabbed the pillow at her seat, patted it dry of any pee, and set it on the desk. She then flopped her head on it, and was lightly snoring within seconds. After everything she had been through today, a good, long nap was just too tempting to pass up. Knowing that there would be no nightmares to plague her anymore made it all the better. “W-wow, she really fell asleep just like that?” Both Morgana and Ren stood in dumbfounded silence for a while before they could speak again. “She didn’t even do anything about her accident, either,” the cat continued. “Should we help her out somehow?” asked Ren. “I don’t know what we could do. It doesn’t look like she’s waking up anytime soon, and she definitely wouldn’t be happy if we tried to move her or change her clothes.” Morgana paused to sigh. “And I thought Yusuke was pretty strange.” “You mean stranger than a talking cat?” “I am not a cat!” snapped Morgana, shooting Ren a fierce look before returning to Futaba. “Still, this girl is quite a handful. She’s gonna need you guys’ help if she wants to be a Phantom Thief.” “You may be right,” said Ren as he looked over Futaba. The poor girl had been through so much, and yet there was no mistaking the smile on her face as she snoozed without a care in the world. “But something tells me she’ll fit right in with us.” (A/N: This isn't the first story I've written about a gamer girl about to burst while at her computer, though the ending is quite a bit different, to say the least.)
  6. Hello everyone, here's a one shot story (that might be continued, depending on your interest in it, my motivation, and mostly time...) that I hope you will like ! A story between a teacher and a student, again (yes, it is my passion !). Let me know if you want this to continue (I have a following part in mind but I'm not sure it's needed). Enjoy ! The mansard room As she looked around her office one last time to check that everything was back in order, Miss Rivers congratulated herself for making this small room such a warmfull place to discuss and study. Added to the ordinary teacher’s desk and chair, there was a large and colourfull carpet, a confortable sofa, two old and patched armchairs and a pile of cushions around a small low table ; on the walls there were two large bookshelves – filled to the brim – and a multitude of pictures, photographs and poems were sticked all around the room. There was a small closet and an only little window. The place was quite dark because of the masard ceiling and the lack of windows but Miss Rivers added a few coloured lamps to make the room welcoming and warm. Unlike her colleagues who prefered to use their personal office as a private place to grade their students’ papers and prepare their lectures qietly, the young teacher chose to share this room with her students so that they could continue to study in a more relaxed atmosphere. She was an english teacher and was teaching a CGSE’s students this year. Her office was mostly dedicated to them because of their important final exam. But this place was also always open for students who needed to talk. She was not a nurse, and made that very clear to her students at the beginning of the year, but she experienced herself some dark moments when she was in school and she never found someone who talk to back then. The funny thing is that she absolutely hated school when she was a student. But she actually discovered the desire to teach when she was experimenting difficulties as a student. Miss Rivers always told herself that if she was not okay with a situation then she would have to try to change it. That’s how she became a teacher, that and her love for literature. Books saved her life and she was absolutely certain that they could save a lot of lost students like she was. As she locked her office’s door, she thought about how she was considered around the school. She arrived two years ago in Harvis school in Porthsmouth and from the very beginning she shooked things up around the place. She was quite unconventional but if it bothered her colleagues at first she was soon respected by her pairs for her resluts with the students. She had an original way to teach, mostly based on discussions, debates and role plays, but she was a very hard worker and everybody could see it. Her students generally loved her because she was very dedicated to them. She didn’t only deeply wanted them to success in school (and tried her best to make them be better everyday) she also wanted, enven deeplier, them to be happy in their life. Her success came from three attributes : to be always optimistic, demanding and strict. As she drove back to her house, she thought about the day. Everything went well, her students worked intensely and she was respecting her schedule : the study of The King Lear was almost finished and they soon would start the reading of Jane Eyre. But she noticed something a bit unusual that day. Victor, one of her CGSE’s students, was working at her office after class with a few students and, as she was grading papers, she noticed that he still looked very lost. He was a transferred student who moved in Porthsmouth two months after the beginning of school, a few weeks earlier. Miss Rivers never had a chance to have a long talk with him and didn’t feel it was necessary until today. He was a serious student and had generally good grades. Until now she thought it was absolutely normal to feel a bit lost in this new town and new school. But students of the class welcomed him very well and he seemed to have made some friends already. However, today he looked distraught. She wanted to talk to him about it tonight but she had to leave the office with some students to sign a paper in the headmaster’s office and when she came back, he was already gone. The weird thing was that Victor seemed to have been waiting for her, letting his friends go back to their home while he was still sitting on the sofa. Miss Rivers was a bit worried. He apparently wanted to talk to her about something and finally decided to run away from her… She felt a pinch of guilt in her stomach. She felt that she had neglected the boy, stressing him about the months he had lost and that he had to catch up rather than seriously asking him how he was feeling. As she arrived home, she promised herself to have a private chat with Victor after class the day after. She woke up very early the morning after. As usual, she forgot some papers she promised herself she would grade for today’s class. She was used to go to school a few hours in advance, she loved to look at the sun rise up from her little window’s office. When she arrived at school, she enjoyed the silence floating along the empty corridors and regain happily the third and last floor of the building, where her small office was situated. She looked for her keys into her handbag and opened the door. As she turned on the yellow lamp on her desk, she startled as she noticed a large form on the sofa, hidden under a blanket (a blanket she kept in the closet for cold evenings). She tried to calm her heartbeats while stepping slowly to the sofa and almost stratled again as she recognized her student Victor’s hair and forehead. Neither the sound of the door opening nor the light on seemed to have waken him up. She frowned and stopped her instinctive hand from wakening the boy. How did he ended up here ? How could she had not noticed her presence after locking up last night ? Why didn’t he say he was still in the room ? Did he tell his parents he wasn’t going home ? She could not stop the flow of questions. This was the first time something like this ever happened to her. What should she do ? Realizing that his family could be sickly worried by now, she stopped thinking and decided to act quickly. With deep precaution, she kneeled next to the sofa and put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. « Victor ? » she asked softly. « Victor ? You have to wake up. » The boy frowned but didn’t open his eyes. She shook gently his shoulder and repeated her request. The young boy opened his eyes and Miss Rivers could notice a glow of panick in his gaze as he looked at her. He quickly closed his eyes firmly and moaned with distress. « Victor, look at me. What are you doing here ? » she asked with incomprehension. Victor didn’t answer. It seemed to Miss Rivers that he simply couldn’t talk. And before she could insist, she saw her student hide his face behind his hands. He was bursting into tears, violent sobs shaking him up. « It’s all right, Victor. I’m not mad at you. Calm down, dear. » she said, trying to make the kid stop crying. She was completely unarmed facing this15 years’ old boy crying like a little child. She faced a lot of tears since she started teaching but she never exeperienced this kind of cry. It was far from the usual break up sorrow or the usual fight between friends’ tears. No, this one was deep and juvenile. And she didn’t know how to deal with this. « Victor, you have to calm down, everything is fine. I promise. » she insisted. But it didn’t work. The boy was still crying, his face red and wet from the tears. As she was going to give up and stand up to call his parents, he grabbed the hand she had layed down on his shoulder. She suddenly understood that, for the first time in her life, words would not be enough to help or save her student. « Come here, my dear. I’m not going anywhere. » she said as she sat on the sofa and opened her arms. The boy let himself completely go into his teacher’s arms, but as soon as Miss Rivers hands touched his back, Victor fell back onto the sofa, hidding his face in his hands. It took a second to Miss Rivers to understand the sudden change in the boy’s attitude. She looked at her fingers with incomprehension as she noticed they were wet. The boy had peed himself. As he went to school this morning, Victor had decided he would not go back to his house, never. His dad had made the decision to come to Porthsmouth, Victor didn’t say anything, agreeing to do anything that could make his dad normal again. Despite the difficulty to leave his friends, his school and his house, he was willing to help his family to become a normal one. He was working hard at school to catch up from his late arrival, he was making new friends and was always smiling at home even when there was absolutely no reason to. As usual, he was okay to be the pillar of the family. But now, his dad went too far… He found his father in the basement drinking whiskey again, last night. He promised Victor he would stop. The teen was not okay to be the only one doing effort. He felt like his dad was giving up on him, again. So Victor made up his mind as he went to school this morning. He would drop off school to work and become independent. He had no need for an alcoholic father and made very clear these past six years that he was absolutely able to take care of his own. To make sure that nobody would have a clue about his plans of leaving school and his house, he acted normal all day. He worked seriously, ate at the cafeteria for lunch and even laughed with some friends. But he made a mistake by letting his friends convince him to come and work at Miss Rivers office after school… Miss Rivers was the only teacher he ever really liked. She was the only one who gave him the impression that she really looked at him, not only as a student but as a person. He never had been to Miss Rivers office and knew it was his last chance to experience the warm little office that evening. When he entered the room he felt a huge sensation of warmth in his stomach. The place was so welcoming, colourfull and soft. He suddenly felt his determination to leave the school melt. He followed his comrades and sat down at the sofa after greeting Miss Rivers, already installed at her desk. The group of young people was studying quietly while the teacher was grading papers. Victor was finding very difficult to play his role of normal student. He couldn’t concentrate, his mind was filled with doubts. His friends didn’t realize his distress, he didn’t have to worry. But as he rose his head from his blank piece of paper he realized that Miss Rivers was looking directly at him. Her gaze was full of worry and compassion. After an interminable gaze, she finally smiled at him with an incredible softness. Victor could not repress his cheeks to blush a little as he lowered his head. He had the horrible impression that she found out what he was planning to do… It seemed that nothing could be hidden from Miss Rivers, as if she was able to feel people’s emotions. As time went by, Victor realized that he couldn’t go back to his house to look at his dad getting drunk. He just couldn’t. He would have to find a place to stay. Anywhere but with this shameless alcoholic, he said to himself. He didn’t think about Miss Rivers’ office until the last minute. At 6 o’clock, when his friends were closing their backpacks to go home, it hit him. Why wouldn’t he stay here ? He could wait in the closet for Miss Rivers to go home and get out of the office early in the morning. No one would ever know he was here ! He closed his backpack as well but stayed in the office, telling his friends he wanting to talk to Miss Rivers in private. His friends didn’t insist and went out, accompanied by Miss Rivers who had to do administrative stuff. Victor thought it was a perfect timing and a a unique chance. He waited to hear the voices of his friends and teacher disappear in the stairs before taking his bag and coat to go hide in the closet. It was a very small one and even with his flexible body, Victor had to fold himself. He could feel his heart beat fast. What if Miss Rivers opens the closet ? What if she decides to sleep here ? He asked himself. He couldn’t bare the humiliation of Miss Rivers finding him in here nor would he survive a night in this akward and painful position. He retained his breath and tried not to make a noise as he heard Miss Rivers coming back. He could hear her preparing her satchel and putting the room back in order. After a second of silence he heard the office door closing. But then he heard a noise he didn’t expect, the sound of a key turning into a keyhole. He never expected the office could be locked. Miss Rivers repeated everyday that his office was always open… How could he have been so naive ? Of course it could be locked, it was just a figure of speech ! He bit his lips as he realized in what mess he was. He couldn’t get out. And Miss Rivers would see him in the morning. How could he have been so damn stupid ? After a moment of self flogging, he decided to get out of his painful hiding place and went back to the room. Looking around he thought that if it was his last time in this school at least it was the best place he would have been sleeping in for years. He decided to do his homework and tried not to think about his growing anger. He finished a bottle of water that was in his bag and tried to convince himself that water was filling the stomach as much as a plate of pasta. When he finished his homework it was 7 o’clock. He went through the bookshelves and tried to find a book to think about something else but his rumbling stomach, Moby Dick. He got a blanket out of the closet, lied down on the sofa and started to read. The book seemed to be fascinating because Victor didn’t even feel his bladder hurting until a rather desperate point. After 72 pages, he realized that he was moving his legs nervously. He stopped reading and felt a hard pinch in his bladder. He really had to pee and didn’t even realize it. Or maybe he just ignored it because he knew there was no way out. He looked at his watch, 8.33. His best solution was to try to fall asleep, that way he wouldn’t feel the pain and could wait until the morning after. He installed himself confortably in the sofa and went back to his reading. When he felt his eyelids fall, he turned off the light, put a hand around his crotch and let himself go through the night. Victor was a very mature kid for his age, he knew it. He had to face so many traumas and difficulties since his mom died six years ago that he was almost an adult now. But when he woke up in sweat, his hands desperately grabbing his crotch, his heart beating fast, he didn’t feel adult at all. On the contrary, he felt like a very little child. A rapid glance at his watch made him realize that it was only 1 o’clock. The room around him was dark and filled with silence. He sat back on the sofa and turned on the light beside him. « Fuck ! » he said, desperate. He felt a small patch of pee on his briefs as he woke up. He couldn’t admit that he had peed his pants during his sleep. And that apparently he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. After a moment of fidgeting on the sofa, he decided to walk around the room. He had hope that movement would calm down his urgent need. But as soon as he got up on his feet he felt a few drops coming down his penis and wetting his briefs. He moaned and squeezed his penis tighter. He sat back on the sofa, feeling incapable to put a foot in front of the other. He was keeping his legs crossed and both his hands were clutching his penis. Victor was still hoping that he could wait for Miss Rivers returns. He was absolutely incapable of picturing him having an accident in his pants, it was morifying. But he could feel his legs shaking and tears coming up in his eyes. He was feeling so weak right now. « Aaah ! » Victor cried as he felt a long spurt coming out of his penis and wetting his bum. He could feel his briefs completely soaked and his trousers getting wet. « Oh no ! The sofa ! I wet the sofa ! » he murmured, horrified. He let go of one hand to touch the sofa and check the mess he had done but as soon as he got off his penis he felt a succession of spurts coming out. Pssss. Pssss. Pssssss. He could hear the hissing noise of his pee wetting his bum and his upper thighs. He was soaked and so was the sofa. But apparently his bladder wasn’t done yet. He tried to regain control and grabbed his penis with violence, his legs moving furiously. He suddenly realized that he had an empty bottle of water in his bag ! If only he could stop himself from peeing in his pants and empty his bladder in the bottle, Miss Rivers would see just a little accident. At that moment, it appeared to Victor that it would be less morifying to have peed himself a little than completely. As if it would show that he was not a complete little kid but only half one... The only problem was that in order to get his bag, he would have to let go of his crotch again… Would he managed to do it without wetting himself completely ? He asked himself with worry. He tried to detached one hand of his crotch, finger by finger. When he arrived at the middle finger, Victor felt a long spurt telling him he could not win the war against his bladder. His trousers were now wet on half his thighs. Letting go a tear of rage he realized that he had to get his legs back into the sofa if he didn’t want to wet the carpet too… By doing so he was saying an absolute goodbye to his empty bottle and by that an absolute goodbye to his pride. It was so humiliating to prepare himself to pee in the bed. But he had to face it, he couldn’t do anything more. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let go of his crotch. He couldn’t bare the idea of peeing himself volontarily. He kept his legs crossed and his hands tightened as he felt spurts multiplying, longer and longer. After every spurt, Victor squizzed stronger his penis but in vain. He could not hold it any longer. He was peeing himself as a little child. After a few minutes of fight against his need, a final long and continued spurt of pee went down his penis, his bum, his legs, his feet. During the last minute of peeing, Victor cried silently, trembling in shame. The battle against his desperation lasted 15 minutes. 15 minutes of torture. The result was a wet teenager and a wet sofa. Victor couldn’t believe what just happened. The morning before, he was proudly saying that he was absolutely capable of being independent and there he was, crying and trembling in his own pee. He had peed himself ! He could not believe that he acted as a little boy. He acted as if he was 9 again. He acted as if his mother would come and tell him « it’s all right »… After a long time of crying, he finally fell asleep, forgetting where he was and what he would have to confront in the morning. His night battle had left him so tired that he didn’t hear his teacher coming into the room at 6.30 this morning nor was he disturbed by the light on. It was only when he heard Miss Rivers’ soft voice calling his name that he realized where he was and what happened. As soon as he met Miss Rivers gaze, he closed his eyes in shame and apprehension. It hit him, he had peed himself last night. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He couldn’t bare the shame in front of his favourite teacher. He felt his tears coming out, sobs hurting his throat. It was the first time he felt so weak since his mum had passed away. But when he felt Miss Rivers getting away from him, he got so afraid that she would never came back that he couldn’t refrain himself from grabbing his hand. Where was his independence, for god’s sake ? He asked himself while firmly taking his teacher’s hand. Not only his pants were a mess, his head too. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was doing the opposite of what he wanted to. He wished to be an adult but acted like a child… He felt himself fall desperately into his teacher’s arms. But as soon as he felt his teacher’s hands around him, he remebered his noticeable accident. Feeling absolutely mortified, he fell back into the sofa, hiding himself with his hands. She would know now. She would know that her 15 years’old student had peed himself on her lovely sofa. After a few seconds of silence, Victor felt arms grabbing him. Miss Rivers had grabbed him and was hugging him softly, repeating the same wonderful sentence. « It’s all right, dear. It’s over. » They stayed in the soft silence only interrupted by Miss Rivers’ voice, repeating the same sentence over and over until Victor’s tears dry completely. (To be continued or not – if I have the time and motivation...)
  7. Hello everyone ! This is my first one shot story. I finished to write my fic "Someone who cares" yesterday and I decided to write some one shot stories (this way I'm sure to finish them on time !). This one focuses on the bed wetting and pee accident of a 14 years old teenager. He wets himself in front of his examiner. You would have understand it, I love teacher-student stories ! Let me know if you liked this one ! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Exam Evan Mac Cormac was a 14 year old brilliant student from a small village called The Three Flowers in the beautiful countryside of the Somerset. His teachers, followed by his parents, convinced him to enter the famous Stone Bridge high school in London to get a chance to enter a good university after graduation. Evan was happy to have a chance to leave his little village. He liked his family and his teachers but he never knew how to make friends at school. Everybody was intimidated by his capacities and intelligence and they didn’t want to get too close to him. Maybe because they were afraid that intelligence could be contagious, bitterly thought Evan. The truth was that Evan was considered as a freak in his village. Every young man around him was destined to be a farmer, like their father. But Evan was not suit for this way of life. His happiness was in his books and his writings, that was all. Even his entire family, his mum and dad and his six brothers and sisters, looked at him as he was a freak. Of course they were all very proud of his bright brain but they never understood him. They never mocked him neither they tried to stop him from studying but they somewhat always avoided his presence. Therefore, when Mrs. Jones offered him to take an entrance examination at the Bridge Stone school in London, everybody felt relieved. He wouldn’t be in their way of life and they would stop looking at him as if he came from another planet. The day before the exam went like ever other day of the week : they all ate soup at the diner table and he went reading beside the fire place before going to bed while his mother was doing the dishes, his dad was saying good night to his cows and his brothers and sisters were playing some game. He was not unhappy at all, he was used to this repartition of roles. But for a second he hoped his parents would say something special on this special night. He yelled an overall goodnight before climbing the stairs to his room. He was lucky, he had a room of his own. His brothers and sisters were sharing three rooms to let him have his quiet space. He knew he was lucky, somehow. He went to bed feeling stressed about the day after. He looked at his books one last time and turned the light off early to have a good night sleep. Unfortunately, he was agitated all night. He had no idea what the school looked like. Or even London. What if he got lost and couldn’t pass the exam ? What if he took the wrong train and ended up in Scotland ? What if his alarm clock stopped working during the night and he didn’t wake up in time tomorrow morning ? On these haunting ‘what if’ he finally fell asleep. His night was filled with nightmares and he woke up the next morning feeling dizzy and sweaty. Or at least he thought it was sweat. He took a worried look at his sheets and realized he had wet the bed. His t-shirt and pants were soaked. How had pee himself… He had an accident ? How could he have wet the bed like a baby ? He was 14 years old for god sake ! Evan was panicking. The large puddle of pee in his bed was showing him that he was not an adult yet. He somehow wished that someone would come and reassure him as he felt some tears forming in his eyes. He had an accident and he was all alone. He panicked for a second that people would mock him if they saw what happened, but he remembered that he was alone in his room and that nobody would have the idea to come to wake up this morning. Maybe it was finally a good thing that his family didn’t really care about him. He got up quickly and got off his wet pyjamas and took off the wet sheets from his bed. He took his dirty laundry with him under the shower and washed them as he cleaned himself. After putting on his best clothes – a pair of beige pants, a white shirt and a dark blue cardigan sweater – he got out of the bathroom. He spread his laundry on his cupboard and on his window so it would be dry when he would be back from London at the end of the day. He tried to forget his shameful accident and to think only about the exam coming up. He got out of the room and found a plate of bread and jam on the table. His mother must have prepared his breakfast before going to bed the night before. She remembered, finally. Evan ate only one slice of bread, he was not hungry. On the other hand, he drunk two glasses of orange juice to wake him up. He gave himself his final look before going to the train station : his blue eyes looked a bit tired and his face’s fine lines underlined his vulnerable look. He noticed that he should have cut his curly brown hair and tried to make some order in it with his fingers. Hopefully he would wake up in the train and his face would loose this childish look, he thought. He thought that his pee accident was marked all on his face. He looked like an ashamed kid. He silently closed the door behind him and walked toward the train station. It was a thirty minutes walk through the countryside. Evan liked this road in the early morning; the sun was getting up but everything around him seemed to be still asleep. There was only one platform and one train waiting in the small train station. Evan entered in the train and took a seat by the window. He checked one last time that he got his London maps with the direction’s instructions given by Mrs Jones. After a few minutes, the train started. The trip was one hour and a half long and during all this time he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened last night. He was completely disoriented by his pee accident. He had never been a normal child: he grew up quickly and became independent very young. He stopped peeing himself (day and night) at the age of 2 years old and had never experienced this kind of accident before. Therefore he couldn’t stop wondering how it could have happened just before his examination. He was so used to grow up and to be more and more independent that he couldn’t bare this experience of regression. He could feel some tears coming up in his eyes at this thoughts and tried to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t behave like a child. He took one of his book and forced himself to read and tried to focus on his examination. When he arrived in King’s Cross station, he couldn’t believe the mess around him. Masses of people hurrying, screaming, laughing. He suddenly felt his head spin. He was not used to that kind of traffic and he had the feeling that the crowd was going to crush him as soon as he would get out of the train. Ignoring his heart beating faster and faster, Evan got out of the train and tried to find the train station exit. He couldn’t let himself intimidated, he had to be at his exam on time. He finally found the stairs leading to the streets. He pressed his bag against him and almost run to escape the wave of people surrounding him. When he finally got out of the station, he breathed heavily. He had to calm down before facing the examiner. He looked at his map and followed the instructions. He didn’t look up from his map, feeling on the urge to have a panic attack. He was surrounded by streets he had never seen and people in London looked so different from the countryside population that it made him feel completely losr. He thought that he would have love to have an adult which, for once, would have led him to his destination. But his father and mother would have reacted the same way as he did right now. The Three Flowers was a lovely village but it was far more different than London. He tried to vanished these childish thoughts and remembered that he was almost an adult in his family; he had to act like it. After what seemed an eternity to Evan, he finally arrived to the school. He faced the building with complete admiration. The school took place in an old Victorian manor. The teen could noticed so many details on the walls. It sure felt very different from his home school. He was finally pulled out from his fascination by a man who looked very strict. He must have been around 35 or 40 years. His dark hair seemed long for a man – under the ears -, it was cut very strictly and it made his green eyes darker than they originally were. He was dressed in dark colours and had a dark brown satchel. He seemed very tall to Evan, who was quite small for his age, and the man thin body underlined that impression of height. “Are you Mr. Evan Mc Cormac ?” the man asked politely. “Yes, sir. I come for the entrance examination.” Evan responded, feeling a pinch in his bladder due to his growing stress. “I am Pr. Guilbert. I will be your examiner today and I will also supervise your preparation. Please, follow me.” added the teacher strictly. Evan followed the man through the corridors, feeling his stress getting higher and higher. This teacher didn’t look nice at all and the teen was suddenly sure to fail. It was easy to feel important in a small village where education was not the priority, but in a school like this one, Evan felt like he was nothing. Finally, Pr. Guilbert opened a door and let Evan entered first. In the room was only one huge desk at the front and a ridiculously small one in the middle. As he entered he could feel his palm getting sweaty and his bladder pinching furiously. “Take your seat, Evan.” invited the teacher by pointing the small desk. “I will explain to you the examination’s instructions”. He gave the boy a bunch of blank paper and a pen. “You won’t have access to your bag during the exam, please give it to me”. He ordered strictly. As he took the boy’s bag, he could see his multiple London maps and couldn’t prevent a smile, which he hid from the student. “You have to listen very carefully the instructions because I won’t repeat them. The examination is separated in two parts: one is dedicated to writing, the other one is an oral discussion. You have one hour and thirty minutes to prepare the first one and thirty minutes for the interview. Is that clear ?” the man asked. “Yes, professor.” replied Evan. “For the writing part, you will have to submit an organized essay responding to the following question : Is there a better place to learn than school ? Beware, in this essay we don’t want you to defend what you think your examiner wants to read but what you really think about the subject. Is that clear ?” he asked. “Y… Yes, sir.” answered Evan, stressed by the man’s strict tone. “Concerning the second part of the exam, I will ask you questions and examine your capacity to formulate a clear and pertinent response as well as your capacity to extend the question. Now, do you have any question ?” he finally asked. “Yes… Is it allowed to get out of the room for a break ?” Evan asked worried about his more and more frequent pinches in his bladder. “Mr. Mc Cormac, no you can’t go out of the room for a break.” said the teacher, insisting with irony on the last term. “I sincerely hope that two and a half hours of work will not be too much to endure.” he finally added, sincerely ironic now. “No. That’s not what I meant, sir...” tried Evan, but the teacher had already turn back. As Mr. Guilbert sat behind the huge desk, he looked at his watch. After a few seconds he said, “You may begin”. Evan decided not to think, even for a second, about his bladder. He started to write frantically on his paper to figure out a structure for his essay. After half an hour he had found all the essay’s structure and arguments and all he had to do was to develop them. When he switched papers to write his development, he realized that he was constantly moving his legs. He hadn’t realized until now that his legs were testifying his need to pee. Even if his mind had been able to switch of the pee signal, his body was still focused on his bladder. He decided to ignore it and started to write his essay. But at the end of the introduction, he felt his bladder pinch so hard that he had to stop writing. He crossed his legs, furiously trying to make his bladder stop annoying him. He took his pen back in his hand and wrote his first argument. When he finished this first argument, he was quite proud of himself. He had great examples about learning in nature. But then he realized that his left hand was intensely grabbing his crotch. Hopefully, the desk was not showing his legs to the teacher. He could feel his bladder crying for relief. But he knew he couldn’t ask for the loo. He had to endure this horrible pain until the end of the exam. He tightened his hand to his crotch and started his second argument. He managed to finish it without any accident but he had to take a break in his writing to put his second hand on his crotch. He had to pee so bad that he wasn’t sure now that he would get out of the room with his briefs dry. After a few seconds moving back and forth on his chair, he noticed the teacher’s eyes fixed on him. His raised left eyebrow convinced Evan to get back to his writing. With regret he removed his right hand from his crotch and started writing his final argument. But he had to stop in the middle of it to tighten his penis. He had felt some pee dribbled through his penis. He could feel that his briefs were a bit wet in the front. He tried to stop the pee but he could still feel some drops coming out. After what seemed an eternity, his bladder seemed to regain a little bit of control. He finished his last argument and went on to the conclusion. He focused on that very important part of the essay : he had to convince his reader that his development was coherent. He smiled as he put down his pen, maybe he didn’t completely fail finally. But, if he didn’t failed his essay, he actually failed his bladder. Before he could realize it, he felt a spurt coming out of his penis. Now his briefs were soaked. He looked down his pants and was relieved that it didn’t show. But he blamed himself for wearing beige… What a stupid idea. He put back his second hand behind his legs and tried to prevent any spurts of pee for coming down. His bladder was seriously aching and he could feel his hands trembling. He knew he was on the urge to have an accident on his chair, in front of Pr. Guilbert. He suddenly had a great idea: take of his cardigan and tie it around his hips. That way, even if the pee would show a patch, the cardigan would hide it, Evan thought. But as soon as he let go of his crotch to take of his cardigan he felt another spurt coming out and wetting his briefs. He could feel this one was bigger than the first one. When he looked down at his pants he was horrified to notice an evident small patch of pee in the front of his pants. He quickly tied his cardigan and made sure that the leaves would hide the wet spot. He put back his hands between his crotch and prayed for his bladder to be patient. He could feel his face reddening with shame and effort. He wanted to cry so hard right now, he wanted someone to take him to the loo and tell him it was all right. But he was in a classroom with a dreadful teacher who wouldn’t even notice that he was suffering. After this moment of despair, he tried to reason himself. He was a 14 years old teenager, he would not pee his pants ! He remembered last night’s accident and suddenly felt like a very little kid. How could he wet his pants again ? Before he could tell himself more, the teacher called him at his desk. He knew that getting up of his chair without wetting wouldn’t be easy… Indeed, as soon as he got up he felt a small spurt of pee wetting his briefs. He couldn’t hold his crotch now that he was facing the teacher. Tortured, Evan walked to the front of the room. Every step was a nightmare: he could feel spurts coming out. He could almost hear the hissing sound echoing in the silenced room. He couldn’t looked down to see if his pants were showing, but he could definitely feel the front of them getting wetter and wetter. But the teacher’s face showed nothing. He sat in front of the man with relief. He handed his paper and immediately put his hands back to his crotch. He glanced at his pants and noticed with fear that there was a large patch of pee on the front. Fortunately, the cardigan seemed to have hid it from the teacher’s gaze. Evan convinced himself that he would to regain control after he would be sitting, but he was clearly absolutely desperate now. He couldn’t help but fidgeting on his chair. Despite the teacher despising glance at him, he had no choice but to bounce evidently. The teacher asked a first question. It was not a too complicated one for Evan. But his answer was confused. He couldn’t speak properly in his state. He kept trembling and his mouth was completely dry. Before he could finish his last sentence, he felt a huge spurt wetting his bum. Oh no ! His bum was getting wet. He could not hide his accident from his examiner anymore. He had to pee so bad… He bit his lips in pure despair and finished his sentence with pain. He could see his teacher writing down some remarks on a sheet of paper. Before the man begin to formulate his second question, Evan felt a succession of spurts coming out, wetting his bum and the beginning of his legs. “Oh no… No… I’m gonna… I’m… Pee...” he murmured to himself. He could hear the hissing sound of his pee coming out. He furiously hold his penis to stop the flow. He felt his face reddening and tears filling up his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to hide this awful accident to anyone now. He was peeing in his pants. “What did you say ?” asked the teacher, clearly worried now as he saw the kid’s blurred eyes. “I’m… sorry, sir.” said Evan, feeling the warmth of another long spurt. The boy was now clearly crying, not able to keep his tears from falling down his red cheeks. “Don’t cry, Evan. You’re doing just fine, you don’t need to worry.” said the man, very softly now. Mr. Guilbert didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know why the teenager suddenly fell apart. He seemed to have written a good essay and his first answer was good. Was he too harsh on him earlier ? “Do you want to take a break, Evan ?” he asked gently. “No… It’s...” Another long spurt stopped him in his sentence. The pee hadn’t hit the floor yet but he could feel he was completely soaked. “Aaah… It’s too late, sir.” continued the boy, in a sob. “What do you mean it’s too late ? You were doing good so far. What do you need, my boy ?” the man asked, now clearly moved by the boy in front of him. “I need to pee…” answered Evan, feeling completely mortified. “Oh. You can go to the bathroom then. We’ll continue our interview after, all right ?” the man said, surprised but relieved by the triviality of the kid’s need. “I don’t think I can stand up, sir. I can’t hold it...” said the teen. The flow had stopped for now but he knew it would not last. “All right, boy. It’s all right, I’ll help you.” the man said with a smile. He got up quickly and went to the boy’s chair. As he gently hold his arm to help the boy stand up, he saw the huge patch of pee on the front of his pants. “Oh ! You… You already wet your pants, Evan ?” he cried with surprise. “I’m so sorry, sir… I didn’t want to… I couldn’t hold any longer. I tried, I swear !” the boy screamed between his tears. “Okay, boy. It’s all right. I didn’t mean to scold you, I’m sure you did your best to hold it.” the man said gently. “Now, let’s try to hold it a little bit more, all right ?” he asked. Evan nodded. “I’ll hold you, don’t worry. Keep your hands tightened, my boy.” the man continued. Mr. Guilbert placed an arm around the boy’s shoulder and put his hand under Evan’s arm to lift him up. The teacher didn’t realize until now that the teen looked so childlike. He was very small for his age and the man could easily lift him up. They stepped out of the room and took a corridor. They were walking slowly, trying not to hasten the poor boy’s bladder. “No… Oh I can’t. I can’t hold it, sir. Pee… I’m gonna pee.” said the boy frantically. Evan froze and tried to squish his penis to hold his pee but it was too late. They both could hear the hissing sound followed by the sound of pee hitting the floor. “I’m so… I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to.” said Evan, panicking. As he talked, the teacher could still see the stream of pee running through the boy’s pants and hear the hissing noise. He was in shock. He surely didn’t expect that when he woke up this morning. He of course had seen some students’ accidents in the past but not like that. He used to put a firm distance between him and his students. Today, there was no distance at all. The panicked boy’s eyes brought Mr. Guilbert back to reality. He faced the boy and crouched down to confront Evan’s eyes. “Darling, look at me. It’s all right. I know you didn’t want to. I’m sure you tried your best. It’s an accident, dear. Do you understand ?” he said, surprised by his own softness. The boy nodded timidly. “I’m taking you to the infirmary were you will clean up and change your clothes and then we’ll finish our interview, okay ?” he asked, holding the boy’s arm. “I have to clean up the mess, sir.” said Evan. “I will call someone, don’t worry.” he tried to reassure. Mr. Guilbert took place next to the boy again and guided him through the corridors with a hand on his back. After a quick clean up and change of clothes, they took their place back in the classroom. Despite his horrible accident, Evan got in the school. He had weekly meetings with his new English teacher Mr. Guilbert every week. The End
  8. I’m back with a fic that I am actually quite proud of! It’s long and very plot heavy - I love angst, so be prepared for a lot of that. Trigger warning for cursing, fights, recreational drug use (teenagers), underage drinking, brief descriptions of violence, past child abuse, and the like. I know it sounds really angsty and heavy now, but I promise you that my stories usually get worse before they get better! Just remember that they do get better. Trust me. I’ll stop rambling now. Enjoy! x ✧✧✧ “911, what’s your emergency?” “...” “...Hello?” “...” “We’re sending an officer to your location right now. Please stay on the line.” Despite what the 911 operator says, sixteen year old Elliot shakes his head and hangs up. He can hear faint screams and sirens from the distance, so he does what he does best. He runs. // SIX HOURS EARLIER Sent to: Ollie ollie can u buy more of my medicine? I only have enough for this week Sent to: Elliot Of course, squirt. What time are you gonna be home? Sent to: Ollie idk probably around 4:30 some seniors said they wanted to see me Sent to: Elliot Seniors? El, is everything okay? Sent to: Ollie yeah haha don’t worry about it Sixteen-year old Elliot Anderson slips his phone in his pocket, ignoring the constant buzzing as his older brother continues to text him incessantly. He walks down the hall towards the cafeteria, whistling quietly to calm his nerves. Classes finished about an hour ago, but one of the older, popular seniors had bumped into him in the bathroom, saying that they needed to talk after classes. The senior, Seth, had smiled at him and reassured him that it was nothing serious, and that he should come to the cafeteria when his last period was over. Elliot nodded and scurried away as fast as possible, biting his nails as his brain made up different possibilities to why a senior would want to see him, out of all people. Shrugging his nerves off and actually feeling a little bit excited, Elliot waited for the bell to ring and now found himself walking to meet Seth again. As soon as he steps into the cafeteria, he sees Seth grin. “Hey, over here!” Seth calls out, waving him over. Elliot smiles shyly and tightens his grip on his bag, silently quickening his step. “Hi,” Elliot mumbles. “Um, you said that you wanted to see me?” “Yeah. So I’m gonna get straight to the point – I’m hosting a party later tonight, and I want you to come.” Elliot blinks. Me? He thinks, wondering why Seth would invite him out of all people. “Um…” “I know, I’m sorry if I sound creepy,” the older boy chuckles. “It’s just that most of us seniors just got accepted into colleges, and we wanna make the most out of the last few weeks we have together,” “But I’m not a senior,” Elliot pouts, feeling a little bit confused. “Why am I invited?” “Cause you’re cool, man,” Seth laughs, playfully hitting his shoulder. Elliot winces. “And, you aren’t the only sophomore invited. You won’t be out of place or anything, I’ll be with you the whole time. I can even introduce you to a couple hot chicks from the school downtown.” Elliot blushes and looks down, hiding his smile. He actually felt flattered that he was being invited out for once. “Can you give me the address? I’ll ask my brother later.” “Sure, man. Hope to see you there!” Seth smiles, grabbing Elliot’s phone and writing down his address on the notes application. Elliot thanks him and then leaves, picking up his pace and running home as soon as he is out of the campus. He gets home five minutes later, basically collapsing on the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m home!” He calls out. Elliot’s older brother, Oliver, comes downstairs and sighs when he sees how exhausted and sweaty his little brother is. “Did you run home again?” He asks rhetorically, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah,” Elliot breathes out. “But hey! I got invited to a party!” “A party?” Oliver frowns, peeking out of the kitchen. He eventually comes out and hands Elliot a glass of water. “Yeah,” Elliot shrugs, sitting down and taking a sip. “Some guy named Seth invited me.” “Do you know him? Elliot, this sounds a bit sketchy…” “We have algebra together,” Elliot explains. “He sits behind me.” “But do you actually know him?” Oliver repeats, giving Elliot a stern look. “I don’t want you to be there alone.” “Ollie, I’ll be fine,” Elliot groans dramatically. “Besides, I’m not the only sophomore going. Plus, didn’t you say you wanted me to make new friends?” “I know I did, but I’m just not sure if a party is the best place to make long lasting friendships.” “Ollie,” Elliot whines, sounding very much like a child. “Please, I actually really wanna go.” “Since when were you into parties, huh?” Oliver chuckles. “You’re mean,” Elliot sticks his tongue out, leaning on his older brother. “Look, you can even pick me up at 11 or something. I just wanna check it out.” “Okay, I will,” Oliver decides, his mood becoming more serious. “Have you taken your medicine today?” Elliot blushes and nods slowly. “But I just ran out. I told you-” “Are you sure you feel up to socializing with a bunch of older people?” “Yes, I’m gonna be fine,” Elliot sighs, feeling irritable. “I’m 16, Ollie. I can take care of myself.” “I know you can. I just worry.” “You worry too much,” he mumbles. “Just let me do my own thing, and I’ll be fine.” // “Hey guys, the little one made it!” Elliot smiles nervously, looking around the house. The music is blaring from the speakers and suddenly he wants to run back outside and chase after Oliver’s car. Shaking the thought out of his head, he smiles tightly. “Um, h-hi,” “Hey little dude,” an older girl, clearly intoxicated, grins at him and leans closer, bringing her lips to his ears. “You’re the one who can hook us up, right?” Elliot’s smile drops almost as quickly as it came. Hook them up? With what? “Sandra, shut up,” Seth chuckles, pulling her away from Elliot and wrapping his own arm around him before dropping his voice to a low whisper. “But yeah, this is our man. I’ve seen him pop pills several time in the school bathrooms.” Elliot’s face pales. Seth had seen him taking his medicine? And he thought they were drugs? “Seth, I don’t think you—” Seth’s grip on Elliot’s shoulder tightens painfully, making the young teenager whimper in surprise. The older kids surrounding him are suddenly looking at him with such judgmental eyes and he feels his heartbeat rise. “Seth,” he whispers, looking up at the taller boy. “That hurts.” Seth forces a fake smile in his direction before he lets go and leaves. “Sorry, kid. Stay here. I’ll go grab you a drink.” “I’ll go with you,” an older boy says, following after Seth. The atmosphere has clearly changed. Elliot shyly looks up at the group of teenagers around him and quickly looks back down. Sandra leans closer to him again and he flinches away. “So, kid, what type of pills were Seth talking about?” Elliot gulps. “Oh, um… I don’t think it’s the type you usually-” “Not the type?” Another guy speaks up, looking at Elliot in an extremely intimidating manner. “What type are they, then? Do you just not wanna share ‘em with us?” “N-no, that’s not it at all,” Elliot says nervously, wringing his hands together. “I’m uh, actually diagnosed with—” “What’s going on?” Seth appears, handing Elliot a drink. Everyone shrugs and goes back to what they’re doing, except for the guy who was just threatening him. Elliot is thankful for the distraction, so he quickly takes a big gulp of whatever drink was given him and chokes it down. It tastes horrible. It burns his throat. “Finish that,” Sandra speaks up as they start walking away, giving him a wink. “Come find us when you’re ready to share your loot.” Elliot looks up at Seth, confused. “Are you going with them?” He asks, eyes wide. “Yeah,” Seth replies, turning around. “Wanna come?” Elliot gulps and his eyes follow the path that the older seniors are following. It’s dark and it smells like alcohol. He looks down and shakes his head, feeling hurt that Seth just broke his promise. “Suit yourself,” Seth shrugs, and Elliot watches as they all disappear into the darkness of the hallway. // Everything is spinning. Elliot’s been tipsy before, sure, during late night Christmas dinners with Oliver, but he’s never felt this...fuzzy. He can’t hear the conversations of the people around him, he can’t walk in a straight line, he can’t understand the lyrics of the music playing, and most importantly, he can’t find the bathroom. It’s been around two and a half hours since Seth’s group left him alone with a drink, and his bladder has been slowly filling up since then. The fact that he’s nervous doesn’t help his need to use the toilet. It makes everything worse. He’s been trying to find a bathroom for the past half hour, but the alcohol in his system makes it nearly impossible. Now, he feels close to wetting himself right there. He grips the front of his jeans and looks around for Seth, taking a deep breath as he walks down the sketchy looking hallway. He finds Seth and his friends talking by the corner of the room, and he walks towards them unsteadily. “Seth,” he slurs, grabbing the older boy’s arm. Seth pushes him away automatically. “What do you want, kid?” “I needa go to the bathroom,” he hiccups, his words slurred together. Instead of the older guys leading him there, they all start laughing at him. Elliot looks up and watches them through confused eyes. He squirms uncomfortably. What’s so funny? “James, check out the kid! He’s so messed up!” Sandra yells, dragging one of her friends with her. Elliot takes a tentative step back. “I needa go,” he repeats, his voice pleading now. “Can, can you tell me where it is, please?” “Give us your pills first, and maybe we’ll bring you there.” The guy named James speaks up, his eyes dark. “We invited you here so you could share, kid. Don’t keep all the fun to yourself.” “I don’ have any pills,” Elliot tries to explain again, but he finds it extremely difficult to form coherent sentences. “No pills. Ran out. Didn’t bring ‘em. I have to pee.” “Liar,” he snarls, pushing Elliot backwards. Hard. He loses his balance, letting go of Seth’s arm and landing on his bottom. Seth narrows his eyes, but Elliot is just confused... These are older teenagers, right? Shouldn’t they be taking care of him the same way Oliver does? “Look at him,” James sneers, kicking his Elliot’s side. “No offense, Seth, but you brought my hopes up. This kid is fucking lame.” Sandra laughs and agrees, pushing Elliot back down once he tries to stand up again. “He’s a lightweight, though. This is entertaining.” Elliot whimpers and curls up as the pain radiates through his upper body. His head is spinning and bladder is throbbing again, making him feel the beginning of a panic attack starting. As quickly as he can, he crawls away from the group and sprints to another room. He can’t breathe at all. His head is spinning and he wants— no, he needs his older brother. He needs Oliver. With shaky hands, Elliot pulls his phone out and presses the first number on speed dial. He sinks to the ground, his free hand gripping his chest, as he prays for Oliver to pick up. He doesn’t. Elliot starts to cry by the third time Oliver ignores his call. His throat is closing up and his entire body is trembling with the force of the sobs he keeps trying (and failing) to hold back. He hasn’t had an anxiety episode this bad in months, and the only person who can calm him down is Oliver, but… Oh no, Oliver’s gonna be so upset that he couldn’t hold it together. Oliver hasn’t answered his calls, either. Oliver’s gonna hate him and leave him the same way Dad and Mom did. He really can’t breathe now, and he’s growing more terrified by the second. Oh god, what if he’s dying? He feels exactly like he felt four years ago, the year he and Oliver were taken away from his parents - the year his life had become a steady series of anxiety attacks. Every time he closes his eyes he sees his mom’s disappointed face and hears his dad’s angry yells. With a choked whimper, Elliot rubs his eyes and tries to breathe. He dials the only number that he knows will help him — he calls 911. PRESENT TIME Elliot bolts away from the house the moment he hears an ambulance. He’s still stuck in the same flashback - the smell of alcohol, the screams and sirens, and the feeling of being helpless is way too familiar. He runs and runs and runs until his legs collapse, and he curls up on the corner of the street, his legs, chest, and bladder burning. He rolls over to throw up, crying as he does so. There are people chasing him. It’s over. “Stop right there!” Elliot chokes and backs up when he hears that, his bladder releasing for a brief moment. His crotch is suddenly warm and wet, but he manages to stem the flow as two large figures come up to him. “Young man, stand up,” the low voice says. “Dad, m s-sorry,” Elliot slurs, hiding his face. “D-didn’t mean to -” “Dad? Young man, what are you talking about?” “S-sorry sir, I j-just - I c-can’t breathe -” “Okay, calm down, son. Let’s focus on breathing. Can you tell me your name?” The man says quietly. Elliot rubs his eyes and nods quickly. “El-Elliot.” “Okay Elliot, listen to my voice. I want you to take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds...” Elliot tries to listen to the voice, but his heart is beating too fast and he’s too far gone. He looks up helplessly at the man, tries to understand what he’s saying, but becomes way too overwhelmed. Soon enough, Elliot slumps forward and passes out while the sounds of the sirens come closer. // Elliot wakes up in the backseat of a police car. He jerks up and hits his head, whimpering loudly as he feels the pressure in his bladder. It’s more than uncomfortable now. It physically hurts, and he can feel how bloated his stomach is. He’s dizzy and tired and nauseous and he feels like he’s about to pass out again just as the car is parked. “Come out, kid,” The policeman says gently. “Call me Officer Miller.” Officer Miller leads Elliot to a room and makes him sit down. Seth and his friends enter beside him and Elliot can feel the tension and intimidation radiating off them. “Stay here,” Officer Miller says, leaving Elliot alone with a bunch of angry high school seniors. “I was supposed to play a basketball game tomorrow, you snitch,” Seth growls after he is sure they are left alone, his eyes flashing. “Now I can’t because my parents are gonna kill me thanks to you — I brought you here to have some fun, and you ruined everything for everyone. Everyone hates you now, Elliot. You’re nothing but a stupid loser—" Elliot covers his ears. Seth’s words drown out and become a muffled ringing. He can’t process anything anymore - the lights are too bright, Seth is talking is too loud, and everything is just wrong. He quietly pulls his olive green beanie down to cover his eyes, biting his lower lip so hard to the point where it actually begins to draw blood. His hands are shaking. So are his legs. And his shoulders. His entire body, actually. And he really, really, needs the toilet now. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, rocking back and forth while a couple of policemen eventually everybody away to different rooms. He starts to count backwards from one-hundred, to get his breaths to even out, but it’s extremely difficult to do so when everything feels like it’s his fault. He unconsciously crosses his legs and curls up, hiding his face from view as his bladder continues to throb painfully. “Elliot, kid? Can you follow me, please?” Elliot stands up on shaky legs, looking up at the same policeman smiling at him and barely registering the fact that his bladder has nearly reached its breaking point. He bites his thumbnail and follows the officer down the hall, his breaths hitching as he passes by his peers, who are all staring at him like he murdered someone. He clenches his eyes shut again and tries to swallow the vomit slowly rising up his throat. He can hear everybody around him murmur angrily, and he wraps the blanket around him tighter. “My curfew was an hour ago. My mom’s gonna kill me.” “Is he the kid who snitched? What a killjoy.” His head is still fuzzy, but he can understand the meaning of those words now. It hurts, but it’s true. He deserves it. Elliot is brought down the hall and into another room full of officers. He freezes and backs up against Officer Miller, who pushes him forward and into a chair gently. Elliot barely notices the small trail of urine that has begun running down his left leg in a slow and steady stream. Luckily for him, however, it stops the moment he sits down. Once again, Elliot can hear a bunch of voices speaking at the same time, and he shifts uncomfortably. This time, however, the voices aren’t angry. They sound...concerned? “Officer Ramirez, give me a quick summary, please.” “Okay. Well, the owner of the house that the party happened in is an nineteen year old male named Seth Hernandez. All the young adolescents who were caught under the influence are in the waiting room right now. Their families are being notified of the current events as of the moment.” “And the boy who called the police?” “Sixteen year old Elliot Anderson. He was under the influence of something as well, actually, but we suspect that somebody laced his drink without his consent.” “Was there anything else?” “No. When we found him, he was two blocks away from where the party was, actually.” “Two blocks away? Why?” “From what we understood, he ran away once dispatch arrived at the location. He was nearing a panic attack, and Officer Miller was the only one who was able to calm him down.” Elliot tries to block out the rest of the words. He doesn’t want to hear how pathetic he sounds one more time, so once again, he pulls his beanie down and covers his ears. Everything hurts. There are tears dripping down his cheeks slowly, his heartbeat is erratic, and he’s never needed the bathroom as bad as he does now. “Elliot?” A young police officer speaks, resting her hands on his shoulders. “You can open your eyes, you know.” Elliot whimpers and shakes his head. He’s in so much trouble - he’s trying to prepare himself for the beatings to come. Not only does he feel his anxiety rising, making him nauseous, he also feels his bladder throb urgently, signaling that he needs to find a toilet now - he turns his head up a bit to ask the officers if he can be excused, but they’re all so tall and scary, so he ends up throwing up all over his shoes, and on the shoes of the officer in front of him. “Ngh,” Elliot groans before his stomach lurches, and he throws up once more. He starts hyperventilating again, his hands shaking intensely. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll clean it up, please don’t be angry with me, I’m—” “It’s alright,” Officer Ramirez says, rubbing Elliot’s back as another officer hands places a basin on his lap. “Honey, you have a lot of chemicals in your body. You need to get it out of your system.” Elliot nods and spits into the basin, his hands shaking. “Is there anybody you can call?” She asks him once he is finished being sick. “Parents, maybe?” Elliot stiffens and shakes his head. “N-no parents. I live with my older brother.” “How old is he?” “Twenty se-seven,” he hiccups, wiping his eyes. “I wanna go home -” “Please give us his number,” she interrupts him, handing him a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’ll notify him of your situation right now so he can pick you up and you can go home.” Elliot does as he is told and resumes hiding behind his beanie while rocking back and forth. Oliver is going to be so mad, he thinks. Then he's gonna send me away forever. // Twenty minutes later, Oliver is at the police station, frantically trying to find the officers that called him. "Are you Oliver Anderson?" Oliver whips around and nods quickly. "Yes," he says, out of breath. "I got a call about my brother Elliot. Where is he? Is he okay? I need to see him and-" "Sir, please calm down. Your brother is safe, but he has been panicking since we found him," Officer Ramirez explains, and Oliver feels his blood run cold. "We need you to stay calm so that he begins to feel safe. Okay?" "Okay," Oliver nods, taking a deep breath and following her into a room near the back of the hall. When he steps into the room, the first thing he sees is Elliot curled up on a chair, covering his ears. "Elliot, honey," Officer Ramirez says, and Elliot's eyes snap up. "Your brother is here." Elliot loses control slowly at first, then all at once — his bladder decides to give up the moment he sees his older brother. The warm, wet liquid soaks the front of his pants and snakes around to the back of his knees. He doesn’t even try to stop it. He feels sickening relief as his bottom gets drenched with urine, but the relief doesn’t last long. Heat begins to pool in his lap and soon he feels tears fill his eyes. The stream lasts for what feels like hours, dripping on the carpeted office floor in soft trickles, and by the time Elliot has finished going, even the bottom of his shirt is soaked. Nobody says anything for a couple seconds. Elliot’s entire face is burning and then suddenly, without any warning, he bursts into tears. Chaos in the room ensues. Elliot feels Oliver come closer to him and rub his back as he cries while the other officers are hustling around. “El, are you done?” He whispers, and Elliot nods shakily, his shoulders trembling as he sobs brokenly into his hands. Oliver quietly bends down to tie his jacket around his waist and takes his hand. He mouths a quick “sorry” to the officers, and prompts Elliot to step out of the huge puddle of urine. Despite the tears, Elliot complies, his sneakers splashing the warm puddle around, leaving wet footprints around the carpet. “Shh, El, breathe deeply now,” Oliver whispers, keeping his hand on Elliot’s back and continuing to try and calm him down. Elliot has never felt this distraught before, so he clings to his older brother as he sobs and hiccups, gripping the back of Oliver’s shirt like a lifeline. “I’m so sorry,” Oliver mumbles to Officer Ramirez and Officer Miller. “He, he has anxiety. Clinically. This doesn’t normally happen, actually — thank you for taking care of him so well, though.” “No need to explain, young man,” Officer Ramirez smiles at him and hands him her card. “If ever you need anything, please know that you have friends right here in the station.” It all becomes a blur after that. Elliot feels hands pick him up and he continues to cry pathetically into Oliver’s neck. The officers lead them out and promise they’ll sort everything out the next day and Oliver brings them to the car. He tucks his little brother in the backseat, trying his best to avoid any more complications, kisses his forehead, and drives them home. // “We’re home, El.” Elliot opens his eyes and blearily looks around. Oliver unlocks his door and helps him stand, rubbing his back the whole time. He quietly unlocks the door to their house and ushers Elliot inside. “I th-thought they liked me.” Oliver feels his heart break as he hears his little brother speak coherently for the first time since he picked him up. “Elliot, kiddo…” “They were using me,” he continues shakily, looking up. There are tears dripping down his nose. “When I got there, they said they wanted me to hook them up with drugs. They were talking about my anxiety meds. They—they kept pushing me. And it felt like—” “El, you don’t have to continue—” “—it felt like Dad,” Elliot’s voice breaks, and he buries his face in his hands. “It felt like Dad, and everything was too loud, and I think they put something in my drink and they were laughing at me and, and I couldn’t think straight,” Oliver takes two giant steps forward and tugs his little brother close. Fuck Elliot’s soaked pants, all he cares about now is making sure his little brother feels safe again. He picks him up and sits down on the couch with him on his lap, rubbing his back. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “It’s okay, Elliot. Dad’s not here anymore. No one’s gonna hurt you.” “I didn’t mean to call the police!” The young teenager sobs into his brother’s chest. “Everything was just too loud, and I couldn’t breathe anymore! You weren’t answering your phone, and, and my head was fuzzy, and my tummy was hurting, and they wouldn’t show me the bathroom but I had to pee so baaaad!” He wails and falls apart, his hands gripping Oliver’s shirt. “I know,” Oliver whispers, closing his eyes and kissing his brother’s forehead. “I know, Elliot. I know. I’m so sorry I wasn’t answering your phone calls, kiddo." “I thought you a-abandoned me,” he moans, clinging onto Oliver tightly as more tears drip down his cheek. “I was a-all alone.” “I know, shh, I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Oliver sooths, cradling him in his arms. “I promise you we’ll never have to deal with anything like that again.” “Promise?” Elliot sniffles, clutching Oliver’s shirt tightly. “I promise, El. You’re safe.” Elliot falls asleep in Oliver’s arms after ten minutes. Once his breathing is even and it seems like he has stopped crying, Oliver stands up, hoists him on his hip, and brings him to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm, soapy water. He gives his sleeping little brother a quick bath, making sure to wash his legs extra carefully. Oliver gets Elliot dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie in record time, then tucks him in in his own bed. He sighs in relief when Elliot doesn’t wake up. This is something he knows how to do - he knows how to take care of his little brother like the back of his hand. Exhaling harshly, he changes into fresh clothes as well, making sure to keep all the wet, dirty clothes in the laundry room to be washed tomorrow. His head hurts and he is so, so angry at himself for not being there when Elliot needed him most, but he pushes those thoughts away in favor of gently running his hand through Elliot’s hair. A few minutes later, Elliot’s eyes flutter and he opens them halfway. “Ollie?” He mumbles, stirring around. “Go back to sleep El,” Oliver whispers, kissing his hair. “Don’ leave me,” he whispers, clinging to him tightly. Oliver smiles sadly and pulls him onto his lap, rubbing his back. “I won’t leave you,” he promises, trying to soothe him completely. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay, El? Not while I’m around.” Elliot looks confused for a bit, sort of like he doesn’t remember what happened that night, but he seems to accept that answer and falls asleep with his head against his big brother’s chest. Oliver looks down at him and sighs. How could anybody want to bully his little brother? Elliot was an amazing kid, and despite his anxiety, he was the kindest and most genuine person Oliver knew. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. He is no longer upset with himself, but now he is upset with everyone who let the situation worsen. If anybody messes with his little brother again, there will be hell to pay. The End (?) ✧✧✧ Aaaand there we go! Nearly 5,000 words of pure angst. I really enjoy reading your comments - please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. I listen to every piece of criticism. Also, I know that I explained Elliot’s situation with his parents very briefly, and I am thinking of continuing the story by adding one more chapter that explains what happened to them. I’ll only do this if you guys are interested in reading more, though, so please let me know! :) I have a couple more ideas that I’m trying to finish so that I can contribute more male omorashi to this website. Haha! Once again, thank you very much for reading. I hope you liked it. X
  9. First of all, I'd like to say that as much as I enjoy omorashi, I think this was a very sad situation and I wish I had intervened. I thought a story like this might happen after I saw a dad ignore the pleas of his tired 4-year-old (or something like that) son in order to keep playing Pokémon Go last week, but I never expected me to witness it myself and especially not so soon or to someone older than 5 years old. The girl who had an accident was still underage though, and while there's nothing sexual about this story, consider yourselves warned. --- So I was out alone tonight playing the game myself and went to an area well known to be a great location for catching Pokémon (there were 4 lures active within less than 20 seconds of each other at the time and they were constantly being replenished, which is probably why the mother didn't want to leave). There were a bunch of players but one of the closest to me was a young mother, I guess around 35 years old, with her 2 daughters. I estimate the older girl to be around 12-14 and her younger sister to be around 7-8. The mother was busy playing the game on her phone (and by the looks of her power bank had been doing so for quite some time) while the two children were playing together (not Pokémon)some metres away. I wasn't really paying attention at this point so I'm not sure how long this went on for, but at one point the older girl went up to her mother and said she needed to go to the toilet extremely urgently. You could hear the desperation in her tone. The mother told her that they'll be going home soon. The girl went back to playing with her sister. We were standing close to a restaurant/cafeteria and I'm not sure why the girl did not use their bathroom at this point. It's the kind of place with tables outside in the open air and I'm certain nobody would have questioned whether they are customers and simply assumed the girl's family was eating outside (I did this a lot when I was a child, both when we really were customers and when we weren't). I suppose she was just too shy to go inside a restaurant on her own. Now paying more attention, I noticed the girl crossing her legs occasionally as she played and she was doing a subtle pee pee dance. After about 15-20 minutes, she went up to her mother again and, this time putting a hand on her crotch for added effect, pleaded with her to go home. The mother snapped at her and told her they won't stay much longer. I don't think she realised how much time had passed since she asked or how desperate the girl really was. I noticed the girl started crossing her legs more frequently after this but she didn't hold herself again (like I said, probably shy) until around 10 minutes later when she told her mother she was going to have an accident while holding herself with both hands and bouncing up and down. She was not crying but she sounded very close to tears. The mother got visibly frustrated at this point, raised her voice and told her not to make a scene and to set an example to her little sister. I should have intervened at this moment as it was evident that this was horrible parenting, but I didn't. After the mother got angry the younger daughter stayed next to her watching her play Pokémon Go and getting excited about all the new Pokémon she was catching (from what I overheard I think the mother was a fairly new player). The other girl showed no interest, either because she thinks the game is stupid or because she was too desperate to care. A few minutes later, as I was busy looking at my own phone trying to catch a Dratini, I heard a loud wail coming from the girl as she half-shouted that she was peeing her pants and started crying loudly. I obviously looked up and saw her with her legs crossed (but not holding herself), looking down and staring at the crotch of her dark pink (and darkening) shorts. The bottom of her shirt (I think lime though the lighting wasn't too good) also got slightly wet. I must admit I was surprised by the accident which is probably why I didn't say anything to the mother before it happened. I live in a small place where a toilet is never too far away and my omorashi memories are almost limited to my own memories. I have a few memories of schoolmates but I was always sitting too far to see the accident actually happen. This is the first time I actually saw one. The girl was visibly very upset and couldn't stop crying, drawing everyone's attention to her. I can't imagine how embarrassed the poor thing was. As I said, this is a popular location with Pokémon Go players and was full of players at the time, not to mention how she must have felt to have an accident in front of a sister 5-7 years younger than her. The younger girl laughed at the situation while the mother started shouting things like "You should be ashamed of yourself peeing your pants at your age" and "Even (sister's name) can hold it" (roughly translated). At least she did have the decency to take the girl home then, though she left the app on so I suppose she was still playing on the way.
  10. I was 13 and had sisters 11, 9 and 8. My mother took us on a day long shopping trip to the big city an hour's drive away. We went to several different stores but we did not go to the one store I wanted. When I protested that I wanted to go to that store I was told in no uncertain terms to be quiet. My mother took us back to the parking garage where there were restrooms. I had the perfect way to show I was pissed off. I told my mother I was thirsty; she said there was the water fountain. My mother took my three sisters into the women's room leaving me to go to the men's room. I stayed out drinking as much water as I could from the water fountain, then went into the men's room and washed my hands. When my mother brought my sisters out they each anted a drink, and I drank more. I was aware of my bladder; if not for my plan I would have have used the restroom. I thought I might make it home before I peed in my pants, even with all the water I drank. We started the drive back and my bladder filled but I was nowhere near desperate. We had been on the road for about 45 minutes when we passed the last place to stop before home. I waited another five minutes then told my mother I had to wee wee. She said we were almost home and I should just wait. Five minutes later I was certain I would make it home except that I was also certain I was not going to make it home. I wasn't holding at all. When we were five minutes from home I pushed and felt warmth at my crotch and saw a wet patch. There was no hiding that I peed in my pants I said to my mother I wee wee'd. She said hold on we were almost home. Although my mother missed it my 9 year old sister did not. She said only babies wee wee in their pants. I said no Mother, I wee wee'd; I have wet pants. As I said that I pushed again and the warmth spread to my butt and the back of my legs as the wet patch at my crotch grew much larger. My mother looked over at my pants and her face turned bright red and she started breathing heavily. We pulled into the driveway and as soon as I got out I pushed again and as I emptied my bladder warmth spread down my legs. My 9 year old sister started a chant T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants na na na na. I helped bring in the stuff my mother bought, walking with spread legs like I remembered doing when I had accidents when I was just out of diapers. Then she told me to go to my room and wait for her. She came with wet washcloths and towels and took off my wet pants and undies and wiped and dried me. She got out clean undies and pants and had me lay down on my bed. Her face was bright red and she seemed excited as she put on my undies then pants. She was saying things like I hadn't wee wee'd in my pants in the car since I was 4; I should know better, I ws to old to do things like that, on and on. I said I couldn't help it. Even as she was saying those things I felt great caring and affection from her; it seemed she was pretending she was changing my diaper. When I went out to the living room my 9 year old sister started the chant T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants again. My mother told her to stop; it wasn't nice.
  11. A special story for neptune729, presenting my first Azumanga Daioh fic. NOTE: The following story takes place after the end of episode 14. If you haven't seen the episode, don't worry too much. It doesn't spoil a lot. But do watch the show if you haven't already.
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