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Clara watched the door to the outside world close. The Doctor had just left, in a hurry, on some sort of mission of his own. He clearly hadn’t wanted her with him. She sighed, standing, hands on hips, glaring at the door. Briefly she considered waiting a few minutes and then following him from a distance. She decided against it. He must have had his own reasons for going out on his own. Whatever those reasons might have been. She waited there for a few moments, then decided she might as well make good use of her time. She made herself a mug of tea, then settled down on a comfortable leather sofa with a book. After a while, she realised that her concentration was being interrupted by her body suggesting that she should go for a pee. She had been ignoring it, but now perhaps the moment had come. At least she wouldn’t be disturbed while on the toilet on this occasion. She put her book down. She swung her feet on to the floor, and stood up. The nearest toilet was not normally her first choice. The en-suite was a short walk away. The ‘operational facilities’, as the Doctor called them were right next to the control room. But they consisted of just an alcove – no door – with a urinal and a continental-style squat pan. The Doctor insisted that they were useful for acclimatising to visiting places with primitive toilets or none. At first, Clara had been annoyed how the Doctor would often follow her there and continue their conversation from the door, but now she was used to it. She now took it for granted that he might watch her pee and it didn’t bother her. After all, she so often had to relieve herself in improvised ways in his company that there was no point being prudish about it. However, it was quite nice for a girl to have a bit of privacy occasionally, particularly when weeing. First step, knickers off. Hands up under her short skirt, a tug and a wriggle and her lacy black panties were sliding down past her knees. She stepped out of them and put them on the side of the sink. Feet on the two little islands on the pan, flick up the short dress and squat. Lean forward to point yourself down at the hole and, relax. Thank goodness for crotchless tights; another essential piece of equipment for an adventurous girl. She had so often been glad of them when she’d had to pee alfresco, sometimes weeing through her knickers when there had been no better alternative. Conventional tights would have been inconvenient to remove, and messy to pee through. Her pee thundered, on target, straight down the drain and into the water. Clara looked down, watching herself as she emptied and making sure her aim was true. She felt a sense of satisfaction that the stream was flowing freely. Sometimes a sideways dribble would wet her bum or thighs and that was just annoying. Her stream weakened as her comfort increased. As it dribbled to nothing she squeezed a couple of final squirts out. She reached for the paper, wiped herself dry (front to back; Clara was an educated and careful young woman) and pulled up her knickers as she stood up. After a few adjustments to underwear and dress she was done. She washed and dried her hands and returned to the control room. There was still no sign of the Doctor. Clara checked the time. No hurry. She made herself a large pot of tea and settled down with a book. She woke up. Nearly three hours had passed. She checked the teapot; it was empty and cool. She must have drunk the whole lot before she dozed off. Still no sign of the Doctor. She called out for him. Silence. She rose to her feet, yawned and stretched. She looked around, and decided she would step outside and see for herself where they were. She got to the door, and realised she badly needed to pee. She paused, thought for a moment and decided not to relieve herself before stepping outside. She was not going far. Perhaps she might find a toilet. And if not, well, if she had to squat in the grass, or behind a bush, it would hardly be the first time. She had tissues and hand sanitiser with her. She opened the door and looked out. She was looking across an empty courtyard. No sign of life, just large, shabby brick buildings. They looked derelict. Now she cast her eyes around them, some of the windows were broken. A few hung open. All the buildings were dark inside. She closed the door behind her and walked across the courtyard. A door was open, inviting her in to explore. She looked around. All was still, all was silent. She felt nervous, tense, and realised she really had to pee. She wondered whether to go back, but her curiosity overcame her. Anyway, she thought, there is probably a toilet somewhere in this building. And, if it really is abandoned, nobody will care if I pee under the stairs or in an empty room. She suddenly realised she had put her hand between her thighs and her fingers were squeezing her coochie through her dress. She stepped inside. She shivered. ‘I’m nervous’, she thought, pulling her jacket around her. She wasn’t really cold. Her dress was short, reaching only half-way to her knees, but her black tights were keeping her legs warm. There was a long corridor ahead of her. It was gloomy, with no artificial light. She saw a light switch on the wall and flicked it. No power. As her eyes adjusted, she saw closed doors at infrequent intervals. She tried the first two. Both were locked. She crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. She looked down at the dusty wooden floor and imagined the messy puddle she would make if she relieved herself there. No, it was too close to the front door. Wondering what the building had been used for, and why it might now be empty, she walked down the corridor, going slowly, to keep the noise down. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. All the doors were shut. She tried a few more, but they too were locked. She reached a staircase, but it opened directly on the corridor. A locked door – probably to a store cupboard – was next to it. She wondered whether to go up to the turning point. She imagined herself squatting, skirt up, tights and knickers down, bum and thighs exposed, and pissing on the floor just there. It was tempting. But then she thought about the noise she would make, splashing down the stairs, and how visible her growing puddle would be at the bottom. She wasn’t sure yet that the building was empty, and that would be a bad way to meet an unfriendly resident. Gosh, she was desperate. She only just stopped herself from trickling some dampness from her yoni. She continued down the corridor, thinking that her first priority now was to find somewhere to wee, while she could still hold it in. She worried that she might accidentally lose control and piss in her knickers if she left it much longer. Ahead she saw another corridor off to the right and, to her left, a wide recess to a wide doorway. ‘Thank heavens,’ she thought, ‘as long as the doors are locked, I can pee there, with my back to them, and keep a watch down the corridors. If I’m disturbed, I’ve a choice of escape routes’. The doors were locked. She checked. She turned, pulling up her dress to her waist. Hooking her thumbs over the top of her black tights, ready quickly to pull them down with her knickers, she peered right and left, checking the corridors were still dark and empty. They were. She had just tugged down her underwear to bare her punani when she heard a familiar voice call her name. ‘Doctor?’ she shouted back, struggling to pull up her tights and straighten her dress. She barely managed to stop herself peeing. She had been just about to use the floor of the doorway as her personal toilet. She was sure she had leaked a little squirt, wet her knickers and, looking down, saw a few dark, damp spots on the dusty wooden floor. ‘Clara!’ she heard again, ‘Over here!’ It came from her left, further down the corridor and deeper into the darkness. She hurried off. ‘I’m coming!’, she shouted. ‘You’ve got to see this!’ came the reply. ‘Where are you?’ she called, as she got to an intersection of corridors. ‘Over here’ she heard, from the left turning. She ran towards the Doctor’s voice. She stopped. The corridor had ended in a wide doorway. The double doors were open. Beyond was a large, gloomy room, the size of a college sports hall. It was empty. ‘Doctor?’ she said, in a normal tone. Silence. She felt her muscles tense. She was alone. ‘Doctor?’ she said again. No reply. She walked through the doors. The room opened up either side of her. She looked around, saw nothing. Cautiously, she tiptoed across towards the far stage. ‘Doctor?’ she said, quietly. With a slam, the doors behind shut suddenly. There was a sound of a powered machine driving itself down the corridor, getting louder and nearer. ‘Doctor!’ she yelled. With a bang, the doors burst open. The lights were now on in the corridor behind, dazzling her, but she saw a fearsome domed shape silhouetted in the entrance. ‘EXTERMINATE!’ came the harsh, loud, metallic command. Time seemed to freeze for Clara. She realised there was no escape for her. She was standing in the middle of a large, empty room, with a killing machine blocking the only exit. Her legs felt weak. Her stomach muscles tightened up. She felt her bladder contract and she just had to piss as hard as she possibly could. She could not resist the urge to pee. Clara answered the call of nature where she stood. She felt she ought to run, but didn’t know where she could run to. She thought she’d be shot down as soon as she moved. She heard a loud splattering noise and realised it was the sound she was making by pissing on the floor. Something nagged at the back of her mind. The order had been ‘URINATE!’, not ‘EXTERMINATE’. She could hear another sound. It was the Doctor’s laughter. He also appeared in the doorway. ‘Your face!’, he exclaimed. ‘You thought this thing was real!’ And he laughed again. Clara realised it was another of his elaborate practical jokes. It wasn’t funny. She was furious. He’d terrified her. And made her wet herself. She suddenly realised that she was still urinating, standing in front of him, wetting her knickers. She could feel the hot liquid buzzing out from her lips, swirling inside her underwear , snaking down the back of her legs. Her tights were wet and her boots full of warm piss. She looked down at the stream splashing on the ground between her feet, the splash marks sprayed over the floor in front of her and behind (she realised that her legs and feet were getting splashed too). She wasn’t just draining her bladder, she was so stressed that she was physically pissing as forcefully as she could. She tried to stop weeing but couldn’t. She still needed to go so badly that she had no choice but to go to the toilet where she stood. She looked up and saw the Doctor staring at her, his pretty young assistant, wetting her knickers right in front of him. She still couldn’t regain control. Although she didn’t want to, she had to piss more through her panties. She parted her thighs and bent her knees, so less ran down her legs. The splattering sound got louder. She kept peeing, looking at the Doctor staring at her. After a while she tried again to stop, and found that she could make the flow stop. The stream from between her legs faded and then became a line of slowing drips. It took a long time for her to forgive the Doctor. Particularly when he showed the fake gun he had made. It had allowed him to control her bladder. He demonstrated that as they walked back together, when he pointed it at her, pulled the trigger, and made her pee in her knickers again immediately he did so.

Hello. My Name is Dennis, and this is my first post here and I wanted to share what happened to me this morning at work. This a completely real story and I wanted to post it while I could remember all of the little details. I decided to attach pictures of what I was wearing because I appreciate it when other people put outfit pictures in their posts. It paints a better picture than any amount of text ever could. A little bit more background information about me is I'm 24 years old, just graduated college and started an awesome engineering job in a new state. I'd like to describe myself as attractive, and have an unintentionally flirty personally (as my girlfriend would say). As far as Omorashi stuff goes I enjoy playing the role of being a well dressed man with an achingly full bladder not being able to sit still and knowing that women are enjoying what they're seeing. The embarrassment really gets me going, and even typing this out is making me blush like crazy. Pink and blue plaid shirt with light grey dress pants. The underwear that I was wearing. This is my favorite style and the cut is known as "hip briefs". Much more flattering that basic briefs in my opinion! Moments after this story happened I texted it to my girlfriend. I've decided to keep the story in it's raw "text messenger" form; However when I was texting it to her she interrupted and replied back several times before I could finish the story; I've decided to leave her comments in. Please keep in mind that I am an engineer, and not a writer! Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dennis: I just completely unintentionally peed on/in my pants a little bit... Lacey: Can you tell? Dennis: So we had a quick little meeting and right after I felt the need to go to the bathroom. I worked at my computer for about 10 minutes but it very quickly became an emergency. I drank a new lemon flavored tea this morning and something about it made me have to go really quickly. I noticed that my knee was bounding up and down and decided it was time to get up and go. It felt like my bladder filled up in seconds. I walked to the bathroom and to my horror the cleaning lady was in there! I went back to my desk to wait a little bit and had to cross my legs really tightly under desk hoping that my coworker wouldn't notice that my legs were pretzeled together and bounding up and down. I was officially potty dancing in my chair at work. I kept looking at the clock begging the time to go by sooner but the minutes dragged on. After 10 minutes I couldn't wait anymore. I went back to the bathroom to go check if the cleaning lady was done yet. When I walked up to the bathroom my heart sank when I saw that the cleaning lady was still in the men's room and there was another well dressed woman standing outside talking to her. The well dressed woman could probably tell how desperate I was because she looked at me and said "I think some people need to use the restroom!" to the cleaning lady. When she said that I was too embarrassed to say anything. I froze up. My brain screamed "ask if you could use the women's room!!!" but I felt so awkward I pretended that I wasn't about to wet myself and walked right past them down the hallway and out the door of the office. I decided to go to my car and try to find a bottle to pee in because I didn't have any other option at that point. Lacey: Uh oh! And you're wearing light pants too? That's so risky Dennis: When I got to my car I desperately looked for a empty water bottle. The entire time I was shaking my butt in the car seat, rapidly opening and closing my legs, bouncing up and down, and doing anything I could trying to not wet my pants. I finally found a water bottle and quickly took out my penis and pressed it against the tiny mouth opening. I couldn't believe I was doing this in the parking lot at work. "why do they make the mouth openings so small now? This is hard to pee in even for men." I thought. I tried to pee but the angles were all off and the pee wouldn't come out because my penis was bent in such a way I guess it was kinked like a garden hose. I tried and tried but only a few quick jets of pee would come out. I finally gave up but could still feel pee in the tube of my urethra, so I to very carefully tried to put the bottle down and put my penis back into my pants. Just as I moved the bottle out of the way another jet shot out and sprayed my leather seat between my legs. Lacey: That sounds so embarrassing! Hope nobody saw you peeing in a bottle 😳 Dennis: Within a millisecond I lifted my butt up to avoid the pee rolling back and soaking the seat of my pants. Another dribble of pee came out and shot straight up in the air and a few drops came back down and landed on the crotch of my grey pants leaving a wet patch. I very quickly shoved my penis back in my pants, only buckling my belt without zipping up, and start speed walking towards the wood. I was praying nobody would be walking on the trails back there. I speed shuffled deeper in the woods to get out of sight of the office building while grabbing at my belt begging to finally let go. Off in the distant I see two women on the trail walking my direction. I figured that if I pee fast enough I'll have just enough time to not get caught by them and see my embarrassing situation. Without having time to think about how embarrassed I would be if someone saw me peeing anywhere a toilet, I whip out my penis and see that I have already been dribbling because drops were now hitting the pine straw and leaves as soon at I get myself out of my pants. With my back turns toward the walkers on the trail I peed forcefully and surprised myself with how much pressure the stream was hitting the ground right between my feet and making the most satisfying puddling and tricking sound ever. I felt like I let a gallon of pee out. I noticed how it was mostly clear and had a slightly yellow tint to it. As soon as I got done I zipped up and walked back towards the office like nothing happened. I hoped my face wasn't too red when I walked back inside. After sitting at my for a few minutes I noticed that my briefs were damp. I must have been dribbling during my dash from the car to the woods.... Lacey: Did anybody know you peed your pants? were you all flustered and red? Dennis: I don't think so. My pants were mostly dry by the time I got back to the office. And yeah I my face felt hot walking back inside. I need to throw my pants in the laundry when I get home and I have to sit in wet underwear for the rest of the day. 😥 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let me know if you want to hear more of my stories! I have a few about driving home from work in the car (my favorite omorashi scenario). Feel free to ask me anything!

After a long hiatus, I'm back to writing. I'm planning on at least five chapters, but I'll see how long I can keep it going. If you share the story, please credit me. Please let me know what you think! Chapters involve female desperation and/or wetting and occasional humiliation - other topics some people might not be interested in will be labeled if appropriate. Chapter 1 Maribel sipped the last of her water bottle, tossed it into a mall recycling bin and headed to a bathroom. She’d been at the mall all afternoon, and that water bottle hadn’t been the first one. Pressure was building between her legs, and Maribel was looking forward to relieving it. She got into a stall and got ready to pull up her short, grey skirt when she noticed a familiar symbol on the toilet. It looked like a miniature police badge with a bright yellow teardrop in the middle. Or pee-drop? Dammit, Maribel thought. Another detection toilet. She’d seen them before, occasionally. The toilets scanned urine for DNA profiles matching fugitives and digitally sent ‘hits’ to local police. It shouldn’t have mattered. Why couldn’t the past just be the past? Maribel was a law abiding, tax paying citizen now. She’d only been the getaway driver a few times as a teen for some friends who’d had the brilliant idea to rob banks. They were good at it, too. Great at it even, until the moment they got caught. Marisol, as she was known then, had skipped bail and used her ill-gotten gains to stay hidden. Enough money, it turned out, could buy excellent forged identification documents, cosmetic surgery – even a college education. Marisol was supposed to be gone for good, yet now a mistake as simple a pissing into the wrong toilet could resurrect her. Despite knowing what the result would be, Maribel checked the other empty stalls. Each taunted her with the same shiny, white porcelain monstrosity. It wasn’t fucking fair. Ignoring her bladder’s twinges of protest, Maribel picked up her shopping bags, exited the bathroom and headed for the parking lot. Finding her car easily, Maribel began her drive home. A few minutes in, she found herself squirming a bit in her leather seat. What are you, a child? Maribel scolded herself. It will be fine – I’ll find a gas station or something. The gas station up the road from the nearest exit seemed like just the oasis Maribel was looking for. She opened the bathroom door, sure that a gas station bathroom of all places would be free of those awful new toilets. And yet to her dismay, there it sat – another gleaming white detection toilet. FUCK!!! And so, for the second time that afternoon, Maribel left the bathroom with her bladder as full as when she’d entered. “Nice, isn’t it” a gas station attendant commented as Maribel headed towards her car. “What?” Maribel was confused. “The new toilet – the city installed it for free. Good thing too – kept having to service the last one.” “Yeah…..it’s nice.” Maribel replied. Perfectly nice, Maribel thought. Everything about it is just great except for the part where I can’t actually use it! Maribel got back into her car frustrated and very uncomfortable. I’ll pee when I get home, she told herself, hand wedged firmly against her crotch. This is fucking ridiculous. You’re not gonna wet yourself in your own damned car. Just hold it. Somehow the drive home was both a blur and in slow motion all at the same time. But Maribel made it home, shoved her key into her apartment’s lock and rushed to the bathroom with her continence and most of her dignity intact. What Maribel found made her stare in disbelief and total shock. Right there, in her own bathroom was a shiny, new detection toilet with its stupid authoritarian logo practically mocking her. WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK IS GOING ON?!!!! I’M GONNA CALL THE DAMNED MAINTENANCE GUY AND FIND OUT WHO DID THIS! THIS IS MY APARTMENT AND….” Maribel’s furious internal diatribe was interrupted by an unmistakable hissing sound. She twisted her legs together desperately but the piss just kept coming. Maribel could hardly believe what was happening as her short grey skirt rapidly darkened and hot piss ran down her legs to the fluffy bath mat below. Maribel had wet herself inches away from the toilet. After drying herself off and regaining her composure, Maribel got on the phone. “You know this line is for emergencies only, Maribel.” “This is an emergency, Mike! How could you let someone replace my toilet without telling me?” “The city came and replaced all the toilets. They didn’t tell us in advance. But they’re free and much better than the ones we had before. Apparently it’s part of some new criminal apprehension kick the mayor’s on. Don’t you like yours?” Maribel didn’t want to sound like a crazy person, or worse, someone who had a suspicious reason to not want a detection toilet in their home. “Actually, it is very nice. I just like to know when people are in my apartment is all. It feels like an invasion of privacy.” “Totally understandable. Sorry for the intrusion. Anything else I can do for you?” “No, I’m sorry for being rude.” “No problem – have a good night”. Maribel’s hands shook as she ended the call, and she tried not to hyperventilate. This was bad – worse than she could have ever imagined. What the fuck was she going to do?

To start off: If you don't know me, I am non-binary though there are only binary tags. I use e/em/es pronouns. For the visual people: I am 5'4", white, with blond hair. I usually wear loose fitting natural color clothes. One more thing to know about me: I have a lot food allergies and restrictions, which can lead to some *ahem* messy situations. -- The Fair: This is a really gross story, probably even to those into messing. One year my family and I went to attend the town fair on a hot July day. Among the festivities I enjoyed many snacks, including a bright green popsicle and later a caramel corn on the cob. Food coloring has never agreed with me, and I was already starting to feel some anxious cramping. I considered trying to use the restroom, but the fair was notorious for having the hottest, nastiest porta potties year after year. I sipped some cold water and tried to relax. There was music, and the people were crowded together to watch performances. At this point, my mom came over to me with a special treat: The caramel corn on the cob. We were poor, and barely ever had treats, so this was a big deal. However, with my stomach already upset, the greasy corn didn't sound like a good idea. Nonetheless, I tried a few bites and pretended to enjoy it for my mom's sake. As soon as the butter hit my stomach I felt a contraction in bowels. Bad news. I started to tell my mom I was headed to the restroom when I felt it. The biggest, crampiest fart of my life was coming. I should have known better. But in the moment, all I could think about was how relieving it would be to release some pressure. I released the ill fated gas, and as any person could have predicted, I instantly felt that cold shock of More Than A Fart. I tried to stop, but it was way too late. Even after the pressure relieved I could still feel the mess coming out into my unprotected underwear. It was heavy. It was warm. It was not a shart, but a full-on involuntary accident. So here I am, pants full shit, hands full of corn, red to the tips of my ears and shaking badly. Think, what is the reasonable thing to do? Of course it would be to admit the accident, get help, and move on. I was not a reasonable kid though. I excused myself to the porta-pottie and waddle-ran as fast as my load would allow, continuing to shit myself, mind you. It wasn't stopping. By the time I reached the toilet my underwear were FILLED. I'm honestly so glad that I was wearing a skirt because I guarantee pants would have mud trails. Come to think of it, I probably left a trail behind me, but I guess I never checked. However, the downside to the skirt was that I could not risk going bare-assed. After pooping for an eternity, I finally managed to stop. I scooped as much of the mess into the loo as I could with toilet paper, and then used more to wrap my underwear like a mummy in order to protect myself from the wet mess, as well as provide additional protection against further mishap. Then I had to do one of the worst things in my life. I put the cold, shit-coated panties back on. I wish I could say that it was a quick trip home to change, but we ended up walking two miles back to my house in the heat. My undies were literally dripping by the time I got home. First chance I got I threw them away, and buried the trauma of that day deep in my brain. This is the first time I have ever told that story. -- I have probably, 3-5 more stories of humiliation like this, I'll release them as I have time. Open to criticism. Also! If you have a specific related kink or want a detail about the story, go ahead and ask!

So I'm interested in someone helping me set up triggers. Triggers that, when they occur, I wet myself instantly, no matter where I am. I like seeing the wet spot... This isn't a purely sexual thing for me. There is some to it, but not entirely at all. ANYWAYS, the idea is, I would be going through my day like normal, and see a certain object, or hear a certain phrase, or whatever it might be, when it happens, I Immediately wet myself, no matter where I am. As i do not wear a diaper, i always have a change of clothes with me. But i would wear one if needed to... I prefer women. but, i'd be fine with a guy too. I mainly just need someone who knows how to setup triggers. My goal is to have happy little accidents 🙂 More info is in my about section of my profile. Although, i might have covered it all. ANY TAKERS??

I'm sure we have all had moments of desperation during those times we had been drinking. I always find myself making frequent trips to the bathroom when I've got alcohol in my system and this had led to many close calls as well as a few accidents over the years. This experience happened a few years ago when I was 19 and drinking was still a new thing for me. As a result, I was not yet used to having to hold my pee like I am now and I was totally caught off guard. Me and my friends were hanging out at our local beach where we had a fire and a few beers. It was still a bit cold in the evenings so I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a hoodie on top. Nothing fancy. Since we were outside in a pretty open area we had to walk back to the (very gross) out houses beside the parking lot anytime we needed to pee that night. While the walk only took a minute or two it was far enough out of the way that I did not want to go to the bathroom right away every time I felt the urge to pee, which was quite often as I got more drunk. I was sort of a lightweight and still am now which, when combined with my inexperience with alcohol at the time, meant that I went from tipsy to officially drunk after only a few drinks. I made the mistake of "breaking the seal" as soon as I felt the urge to pee for the first time that night and that made me need to pee again pretty quickly. I don't remember exactly how long we were there but it felt like I had went to the bathroom at least 3 times in the last hour so the process of walking there and back was starting to get a little annoying. Also, as I mentioned earlier, the toilets were pretty disgusting as they were basically holes in the ground with seats over them. These things made me want to put off peeing again for as long as I could so that I could chill with my friends. I started to squirm around a bit as my need to pee increased and because I was drunk I wasn't too worried about holding myself around other people. Alcohol always makes me feel pretty desperate to pee but because I'm not thinking totally straight I find it hard to judge how bad the urge really is. That night I definitely misjudged my ability to hold. I knew I had to go to the bathroom soon but I started to lose control when one of my friends started doing her impression of our high school math teacher. It was so perfect that I could not stop laughing which took my attention away from my need to pee. A sudden spurt of warmth between my legs reminded me of my full bladder so I clamped my legs together in an effort to stop it. I succeeded and when I felt my crotch with my hand there was only the faintest feeling of dampness. However, my friend continued to mimic our old teacher and she did such a good job that even in my predicament I couldn't help laughing again. I felt another trickle of pee begin to leak out of me, forcing me to cross my legs and making me afraid to move because I might lose control completely. Just when I thought I had everything under control another of my friends joined in with her take on our teacher which was somehow even more hilarious to me. At that point everyone was laughing hysterically and I'm sure we have all experienced a moment where other people laughing makes us laugh even harder. That was happening now and I just could not stop laughing anymore. I could feel my butt getting warmer with every exhalation and no amount of leg crossing and holding could stop it. The more I laughed the more I peed and the trickle from before turned into a full stream. I quickly lost what little control I had over myself and I started making an audible hissing sound. My pee must have started dripping down from the foldable chair I was sitting on because someone shouted "Ice is peeing herself!" which drew a whole other round of laughter. I was drunk enough that I didn't feel too embarrassed by what was happening because I knew everyone there well enough to know they would not make fun of me (not in a mean way anyways). Everyone else's laughter kept me laughing as well despite the fact that I was having my first full on wetting since the sledding incident I posted about before. I remember calming down as the last drops of pee left my bladder and just sitting there a moment catching my breath. I stood up to check the damage to the chair, the seat of which was completely darkened, and a fresh wave of giggles erupted from my friends as they got a look at my soaked pants in the fire light. Even though they were laughing they were very sympathetic and offered to give me a ride home right away but I told them I was okay for the time being. The beers made me pretty care free about sitting around in wet clothes, but I also felt myself getting incredibly turned on as my legs cooled down and I became acutely aware of how wet I had gotten myself. I remember having to resist the urge to start touching myself while we sat around the fire. I sat on one of the beach towels we had brought with us on the ride home. One of our group was not drinking that night so I luckily did not have to explain to anyone else why I was soaking wet. My parents also happened to be staying at a relative's place that night which gave me a great idea when I was dropped off at home. I needed to pee pretty bad again at that time, but since nobody else was home I decided I would relieve myself somewhere besides the bathroom. I walked out to our backyard where I took off my shoes and put them beside the door. I then went and stood in the grass and did my best to relax myself. Even though I felt like I had to pee it wasn't as easy to do on command as I expected. I tried sitting down in the grass and after a few moments I felt that familiar warmth between my legs. It was not the first time I had deliberately wet myself but the combination of alcohol and the knowledge that nobody else was around let me relax completely. I closed my eyes in total bliss and let myself lie down in the grass while I peed. I remember I got some chips from inside and ate them in my back yard while wearing my wet clothes. I hung out outside for a while watching random youtube videos and enjoying the feeling of my soaked pants clinging to my thighs and butt. Eventually I decided I would head inside and enjoy a late night bath before bed. When I looked at myself in the mirror I would the wetness halfway down my legs on the front of pants, and the more recent dark spot on my butt and between my legs. As amazing as my drunk bath felt (seriously, if you haven't done it before you're missing out) I was a little sad to take off my wet clothes. I will try to update you guys with stories of more drunk wettings in the near future! In the mean time I hope everyone enjoys my story and I would love to hear about similar experiences you have had!