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  1. Author's Note: Hi all! Just a quick reminder, this is a story involved anthropomorphic animals. This opening chapter doesn't contain desperation, but does set up the rest of the story. There will also be humiliation/domination themes throughout, so if this is something you don't enjoy please be aware! I'd love any feedback ya'll may have all well. Thanks! Chapter 1: "You've disappointed me, Subira." The deep, masculine voice cut through the air like a knife. Subira involuntarily pushed her canine ears back against her head. They lay flat as she stared down at the ground, utterly ashamed. Subira took pride in her position. She worked incredibly hard to please her King, her master. Knowing she had failed in such a public fashion was mortifying. "I give my most humble apologies, my King." She spoke from her kneeling position. The young female jackalfolk didn't dare look up. She didn't deserve to meet his gaze. The drought plaguing her people was the worst many had seen in years. It hadn’t rained in months. Their best shamans pleaded with the gods to send water, but so far their cries seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Earlier in the day she had carelessly knocked down a servant carrying several clay pitchers full of water on a tray. Water that could have slaked the thirst of many citizens. Semut, her master, sighed. Normally, someone in his court making a mistake like this wasn't too difficult. But Subira had made it during the worst time, and in front of too many witnesses. He couldn't write it off, even if he'd have preferred to let someone he valued so highly off with a light judgement. He had to punish her, severely, for the transgression. More than that, it needed to reflect what she had done. Wasted water during a drought. He would have to think on it. Frustrated, he sent her away. "Return to my chambers at first light. I will begin your punishment then." Semut growled. He rose from his chair, flicking Subira away with an irritated paw. What was an appropriate punishment for one of his favorites for making such a stupid mistake? He couldn’t simply take away several days water rations from her. She would dehydrate, not to mention he still needed her to be able to perform her duties. She was one of the best in his court when it came to acquiring things. But how could Subira possibly pay back such a debt? Subira woke early the next morning. She had slept fitfully, not knowing what today would bring. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she got up, feeling the previous day’s burden upon her. She felt such a heavy guilt, knowing just how much precious water she had wasted. Hopefully Semut would help her atone more than just dole out some sort thoughtless of sentence. Subira doubted he would hurt her physically. She’d seen the king’s eyes upon her before. She knew she was a beauty to behold. She also doubted he would let her off easily, despite being one of his favored workers. Semut was known for handing out tough, but fair, judgements. She took her morning piss before dressing herself in some of her plainest clothes. A simple white cotton shirt that still showed her flat belly while covering her ample breasts, and a white flowing skirt to cover her lower body, cutting off at the knee. Realizing the sun would be coming up soon, Subira quickly made her way to Semut's chamber. The sun was just started to creep into the sky when she reached his entrance, and she knocked quietly. "Come in." Subira heard him beckon. She did so hesitantly, closing the door behind her. Her expression was contrite. The young woman truly hoped her King would have a suitable penalty awaiting her. "Subira, I take no pleasure in punishing one of my most valued workers." Semut sighed, rising from his bed. He was tall, particularly for a jackalfolk, standing a full six feet. Many rulers grew complacent, no longer working on themselves physically. Semut, however, hadn't quit. He was strong, and it showed from his muscular arms down to the noticeable abs. Often he could be found practicing swordplay with some of the most fearsome men in his army. Semut hadn't yet been dressed for the day, but he made no effort to cover himself. He was not a modest man. "I know you. How hard you toil at your post. Your punishment will suit your crime. Today, you will not waste water." He spoke clearly, walking over to stand in front of Subira, who had kneeled before him. "Look up." The man spoke. His dick hung in front of the petite jackalfolk woman. She was surprised, then confused. Did he expect her to service his cock? Her tail began to wag nervously. "Starting now, you will be given no water ration. Instead, you will drink my piss as I need release. You will not be permitted to let it out until I give the command. You will hold it in, no matter what, until you are allowed to let go. When I permit release, you will piss in a jug. When the jug is full, you will use it to water plants around the palace. This punishment will last until you fill the number of pitchers you so carelessly wasted." Semut concluded. "Do you understand your judgement?" Subira nodded silently. It was not what she had anticipated, but it was atonement. "Good." Semut spoke. “You will perform whatever duties I require of you outside of this. You will be at my side until you have fulfilled this punishment.” He pumped his hips forward lightly, jiggling his cock forward. The gesture was clear. Subira said nothing as she took his dick lightly in her mouth. She had no complaints she could voice. While she expected this to be miserable, it would truly make up for what she had done. As Semut’s hot, acrid piss began to fill her mouth, her eyes water. His first morning’s piss was awful. It was intense, and unpleasant, but there was nothing to be done but drink. And drink. And drink. It seemed as if her torment would never end, but at last his stream trickled down to a stop. Subira swallowed, grimacing as the taste stayed on her tongue. She could feel her stomach was now uncomfortably full of liquid. Dread settled in as she remembered just how many pitchers had been wasted the day before. Ten. This would not be the last morning piss she drank.
  2. I imagine a community with the following laws. (1) If you wet your pants or wet your bed, you are sentenced to be brought into the crowded public square, still in your wet clothes, stripped naked, and put into diapers and transparent plastic pants. After that you are forbidden to relieve yourself other than in your diaper. You will be changed in public as needed. (2) If you're guilty of some other offense, you are brought into the crowded public square fully clothed and desperate to pee and restrained so that you can't flee and can't reach for your crotch and everyone has a good view of you. They all watch as you're forced to have an accident. Then having had an accident, of course you're treated as in article (1) above. (3) It is not a punishable offense to force someone to have an accident. If you do that, then of course your victim must be dealt with as in article (1) above. Moreover, after their public diapering, you own them; they're your pet and of course you can spank them if you like. One of the ways this is done is that you forcibly drag an innocent person into the public square for punishment according to article (2) above. You don't pretend they're guilty, you tell the public that just for fun you want to punish this innocent person by making them have a public accident. Doing that is considered innocent fun. After they have an accident, of course they have to be treated as in article (1) above and you own them. (4) However, suppose you engage as you usually do in the innocent pleasure of trying to force someone to have an accident, as in article (3) above, but you fail. They escape from you and relieve themselves in a non-omorashi way, using the plumbing facilities. Then you are guilty of crime and must be punished according to article (2) above, and your victim owns you. Of course, this means some people may fraudulently pretend to be desperate to pee, so that someone else will try to have fun restraining and tickling them, and fail, and so the attacker must be punished as in article (2) above. You may find yourself in either of the two roles above, deceiving and ending up owning a diaper-wetter, or getting deceived and ending up being an owned diaper-wetter. (5) Sometimes a public human sacrifice must take place, so a lottery picks an innocent person to be brought into the public square and treated as in article (2) above. Of course this is a popular public entertainment as are all punishments and forced wettings. A host at a party may entertain guests by kidnapping someone who's desperate to pee and placing them in restraints so that guests can watch their ensuing accident. This wetter is then of course subject to articles (1) and (3) above and so must get publicly diapered.
  3. Chapter Two: Night 1 Sophia stepped back in to the apartment and Shannon followed. It was a nice place. It was painted white, with pictures hanging on the walls. Welcome, Sophia said You have nice place Shannon said. Thank you, do you want anything to drink or eat? Sure, do you have any water? I do, I’ll go get you a bottle. Sophia came back, one big bottle for Shannon, and one for herself. They sat down, and both immediately downed their water. It’s late Sophia said, we should get some sleep and talk in the morning. I agree, where do I sleep for tonight? Shannon asked. You can sleep with me for the first night Sophia said. Okay Shannon replied. They both soon found themselves in Sophia’s bed, and everything was perfect, except one thing, neither of them had peed, and had drank a lot. The next morning Shannon awoke in a big puddle in Sophia’s bed. Oh no, she thought, I wet the bed! Shannon felt her jeans, they were soaking wet, she felt around her in the bed, soaking wet as well. She felt next to Shannon, and then noticed something, something very strange. Shannon was wearing a diaper. A diaper. Shannon felt the butt of Sophia’s diaper, it was wet, no, more soaked than Shannon’s pants. Shannon tapped Sophia on the shoulder, who woke up in an instant. Sophia, I wet the bed Shannon shamefully admitted. I had a feeling you would Sophia replied. And you are wearing a diaper, and it’s soaked! Shannon exclaimed. I know that too, I always wear a diaper, I am a bed wetter. You are? Yep, since I was a kid, now, let’s get up and get you changed Sophia said. Sophia got out of bed and rubbed her crotch through her diaper. Come with me Sophia said to Shannon. Shannon followed behind her. Sophia went to a closet and pulled out a package of diapers. It looks like we have around the same waist, I’ll get you the same one I do Sophia said, now follow me. Sophia laid Shannon down on the couch. Sophia, what are you doing? Shannon asked nervously. I’m changing you she replied, pulling down Shannon’s jeans and underwear. Stop! Shannon exclaimed, kicking at Sophia, but it was no use, Sophia was very strong and Shannon could not move. Sophia took out a bottle of baby powder and sprinkled some on Shannon’s damp pussy, she put a diaper on Shannon and put on the straps. The diaper was covered with colorful art, and it looked like a toddler’s diaper, except big enough to fit Shannon or Sophia. What the hell did you do! Shannon yelled. Alright, admit you like them Sophia replied. Shannon stopped, I don’t like them! She exclaimed. Are you sure? Sophia asked, with a persuading tone in her voice. It was sort of a lie, Shannon actually did like the diapers, how soft they were, the design, oh, and the way they crinkled. Shannon had to admit, she liked it, and it, was hot. I actually do kind of like them, Shannon said, trying to decide whether or not she liked them. It was strange, they were diapers, weren't they? Babies wore diapers, and incontinent people. She felt like a kid wearing them. The bulkiness, the way they cradled her, all brought her back to when she was a child, her period of incontenince. It was almost a feeling of nostalgia, not almost, it was! By God it was! It was just like her childhood . She remembered it well, until she was 13, she wore diapers. She was like Sophia, she was a bed wetter, but she was not nearly as old as Sophia, being 25, when she wet the bed. There it all was, the nights of waking up and losing it right before she could pull the God damned diapers down, right in front of the toilst. The nights that seemed endless of her mother saying, "Don't worry Shannon, we get past this together the next night", and the next night, and the next night, and the next night. All the awkward times of her mother going in to the other room with her friends parents at sleepovers, the other parent being told Shannon was a bed wetter and she wore diapers and it was not to worry, but sometimes she still got kicked out, her friends wondering what her parents were talking about, and then the friend going to her mother and coming back knowing the news, sometimes discusted. Yes, that was it, yes. Now, you wearing a diaper, so why don't we see how much you can fill that diaper up said Sophia. Sophia, I don't think I want to wet it, I don't want to go back to those days. What she had said immediately caught her eye, and Shannon saw her eyebrows raise in suspicion. Now, tell me, what exactly are "those days"? Sophia raised her fingers as air quotes. Well, I guess I'll tell you, it'd not exactly like I can really keep this from you Shannon began. As a kid, up until I was 13, I was a full on bed wetter and wore diapers and a mattress protector to sleep, every night. I was taken to therapy, the school guidance counselor, everything, most of my friends thought I was crazy. And one day, it finally stopped, one day, I just didn't wet the bet, my mother was astounded, she even gave me some water to drink, about a glass and a half to see if see shouldn't have gotten her hopes up, and surely enough, the urge hit me in my sleep, and I got up. Well then, I guess we'll be filling up that diaper then Sophia said, walking to the kitchen, Shannon followed. Sophia took out a glass of water and filled it. Sophia, I don't want to, Shannon whined. Drink Sophia said, putting her on her knees . Soph- Sophia put the glass to her lips and forced her to down the full glass of water. Sophia had just dominated her, and she liked it. Good, now, I'm going to refill the glass and you'll drink until I say you've had enough Sophia muttered, now, go in to the guest room, the room next to mine, and lay down, I assume you'll know what to lay in. Okay Shannon began, Okay master. Shannon had just said master, without being told, she really did like what was going on, didn't she. Shannon walked in to guest room and was astounded by what she saw. The room was decorated as a baby's nursey, Disney characters on the wall, a big crib made to fit an adult lay at the wall. Shannon walked over to it and climbed in. The interior was soft and was crampt. Shannon lied down, she felt nice in the crib. She stood up again, noticing a binkie on a table next to the crib, she assumed it was for her and she took it, placing it in her mouth, and laying back down. Sophia came in a minute later, I see you have already grown accustomed to your new style of living. Sophia took the binkie out of Shannon's mouth and gave her the water, this time in a bottle with a nipple on it. Shannon sucked the water down and felt the first one hit her bladder, and Shannon knew the second would soon be on it's way. A few moments later Sophia came back with a third and then a fourth. Shannon felt full and all the water had made its way to her bladder a few minutes later. Shannon started to cross her legs, and then she transferred her hands from her binkie to her bladder. With not much room to move around, she found it increasingly harder to hold it, but with her hands, she was still managing. Sophia came in and put a bag type thing around her hands, allowing her to move them, but with the fact she could not grab anything with her hands, it was useless. Shannon soon felt the urge to poop, and a strong one come on, Sophia had probably laced her water with Laxative powder Shannon thought. Shannon's bladder was completely full. She crossed and uncrowded her legs, trying to hold it back with all force, including her poop which was now trying to escape by all means nesecarry. Shannon's bladder felt like it was going to explode. Shannon rolled around and started to spurt in to her diaper. Those spurts became longer and longer until she lost all control, including her poop. Four glasses worth of water and a day or two worth of poop came jetting out, liquidy. She soaked her diaper and felt wet, liquidy, poop covering her butt. Sophia soon returned. D Did someone have an accident, ooh, and what's this, it looks like someone messed her diaper too. Sophia came to Shannon and pulled back her diaper, immediately seeing a naughty someone had a huge brown and yellow mess in their diaper. You can't stay like that forever, and neither can I, let's get you a bath, you're too big for the sink, so I guess we'll wash together.
  4. From the album: OverFlo207 - 2018

    Gift for Nowi Green Poor Fwo is getting what he deserves.. After the incident here: https://nowigreen.deviantart.com/art/Milk-Mix-Up-710060637 Nowi set out to punish her naughty puppy, tricking him into drinking down the whole bottle of laxative. Now for the next few hours, her dumb doggy is reduced to being a helpless pooping puppy. ...X///x...
  5. Version 1.0.0

    1,719 downloads

    Not really sure what section these would belong in. They're femdom style videos with girls telling you / teasing you to wet.

    Free

  6. Aaron needed to pee and he needed to pee bad. But right now he was sitting in for a coworker at a very important meeting, his legs crossed and his hand crushing his knee cap. He mouthed over to his boss Dan: "I need to go!" but the man just shrugged his shoulders. You would think that sitting in a room full of men in their 60s, that at least one of them would have had to pee in the past five hours that was this meeting. But they all sat their delicately sipping their teas and coffee without a care in the world. The main issue was that Aaron had gone into the meeting having to pee because of circumstance. His coworker, Gary, had to be out of town for a wedding this weekend. And Aaron is usually Gary's go-to-man when it comes to departmental issues. Usually this wasn't something that Aaron minded because technically Gary was his supervisor and if working some of Gary's meetings meant him getting a promotion, he wasn't about to pass that up. But today had just gone hay-wire! Last night Aaron went out with a couple of friends and had a couple drinks more than he had originally planned. In all honestly, his friends were trying to get him laid. It had been three years since he had broken up with his ex and he wasn't quite sure that he was ready to move on. His friends, obviously, didn't think that lanky and freckled Aaron could score on his own were constantly taking him to bars all across town. Aaron didn't mind it, as long as he was able to control himself. Knowing that he had a huge meeting this morning, and not wanting to wake up with a horrible hangover, he drank a ton of water and gatorade. Didn't matter to him, he'd be at his bachelor pad with his own bathroom and he could pee all night long if necessary. Then his alarm didn't go off. Being a night-owl, Aaron usually liked to give himself two hours to get ready so that by the time he got to the office, he was coherent and actually functional. But the day started at 9 and Aaron woke up at 8:30. And he was seriously, thankful that he didn't wake up later than that. Oddly enough when Aaron woke up the next morning, he barely had to pee. That alcohol must have seriously dehydrated him but for once he was seriously grateful. He grabbed a orange juice and an oatmeal cup to go and bolted out of the door. Then he turned around and grabbed his coat. It was a brisk October evening and the chilly air definitely reminded him that he could use the bathroom. He could just pee when he got to the office...right? Wrong. Aaron rushed into the office and was handed a large hot coffee by one of the secretaries, Donna. She was the talk of the town among the men at the office but Aaron didn't really find the appeal. It was probably because he was gay. "The meeting starts in 5 Aaron" she said. "What? I thought it started at 10!" Aaron exclaimed quickly removing his coat from his shoulders. "They moved up the time last minute because of something that happened with USPS," she informed him. "They'll be in conference room 190." She pointed to the room in the corner. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered under his breath. He threw his coat at his desk and took a big gulp of his coffee and went into the room. He wouldn't have time to use the bathrooms because the dumb architects who had built the building decided to put bathrooms only on the even floors. And that was a flight of stairs too many to take before this meeting. With this many companies involved, he knew that this was going to be a long meeting. But Aaron was sure they'd have a break at some point. "Aaron, glad you could make it!" Dan said behind him. Dan was technically Aaron's boss because he was Gary's boss but they had sort of a weird relationship. He was very friendly in a high school coach trying to rally a team before a game way. He was often very handsy with Aaron grabbing his arms or his shoulders, once slapping him on the ass but Judy from HR was on him about that one. And he could really be a dick sometimes. "Really hope Gary is having fun at that wedding!" He put one strong hand on Aaron's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "Yeah me too," Aaron muttered. "But just gunna say, I know you're not Gary but you're the second best and I'm glad you're stepping in for him," he said with a large smile. Dan's teeth were perfectly straight and his smile produced two dimples on his cheeks. They were adorable. "Uh thanks Dan," Aaron said drawing his lip sin slightly. He wasn't entirely sure if the brawny many had meant that has a complement. "Alright, let's do this!" Dan said pumping two fists into the air. Dan walked ahead of him and Aaron couldn't help but find himself looking at his ass. His pants were a little bit tighter than usual today and he could see the wonderful muscle definition that he had. "God you're so from New Jersey," Aaron sighed and shook his head. Feeling a little bit inadequate, he followed the man into the conference room. And that's what brings us up to this point. Five hours into the meeting, there still was no break and Aaron was hanging on for dear life, seriously hopping that he wasn't about to pee his pants. He knew that Dan knew but every time he had tried to call a break, one of the old men started yapping again and they were back at square one. And Aaron was so afraid that he would cause a problem by just ducking out that he kept quiet silently pleading with his bladder to hold on and for Dan to do something for him. "We aren't getting anywhere with this, we should take a break," Dan intervened. "I don't think we should go anywhere until we make some sort of compromise!" Nathan, the CEO of some company from some place that Aaron didn't care about because he had to pee. "I'm not calling for us to end the meeting Nathan! I'm calling for a five minute break to stretch our legs!" Dan barked back his brows curled and his arms crossed. Aaron noticed that his pecs were very pronounced in the blue satin shirt that he had decided to wear that day. And then Aaron's entirely body relaxed slightly as a tiny splurt of pee escaped from the tip of his penis. He started to panic. He couldn't pee himself in front of these people. He didn't want to pee himself in front of anyone let alone these huge corporate giants. Not knowing what to do he quickly stood up and bolted from the room. Not saying a word, he heard Dan call his name as he headed straight for the staircase. "Need to pee, need to pee," he kept saying, trying to keep his legs crossed as he rushed down the stairs. Another bit of pee escaped and he stopped to grab his throbbing crotch. It was so difficult to stop the stream at this point. There was no way he'd be able to hold it much longer. Aaron was going to explode any second. He desperately needed the bathroom. He entered the second floor and took a sharp turn to the left. There it was, the men's bathroom! And by some luck, there was nobody in the single person bathroom. Aaron started leaking as he entered the room. Forget locking the door! He could feel the urine on his legs he and unzipped his jeans when he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. Instinctively he turned around but being so close to release, he couldn't stop himself from peeing. He saw Dan standing behind him looking oddly innocent, his mouth slightly open as he saw Aaron's pee hit the side of the urinal. Aaron couldn't quite focus but Dan grabbed his penis and directed the man back to the urinal so as to not get any of Aaron's pee on either of them. A loud moan escaped Aaron's lips as he relaxed his body into Dan's. He could feel his penis throbbing and start to stiffen in Dan's hand. It had been so long since someone else had touched him and while he had wanted it, this wasn't exactly what he had had in mind. For some reason, he couldn't help but get aroused. That was when Dan did something that Aaron didn't quite expect. He kissed his neck and began to seductively nibble on his ear. It made Aaron weak at the knees, although he was already quite weak from having held his pee for so long. He moaned again and this time Dan took this as a cue to start stroking Aaron's throbbing dick. Dan took Aaron by the shoulders and threw him against wall. The cold tile felt nice on his back as he was definitely heating up. Dan put his hand against Aaron's face and drew him in for passionate kiss then he pulled Aaron's hair back and began to stroke his dick faster. Aaron found his hands grasping Dan's ass. "Shit," Aaron moaned as he came violently. Dan let go of his penis and traced his fingers down his shaft, and up his body to his mouth. He tapped Aaron's mouth with his finger. "I didn't know you were gay," Dan said. "So what, you just took a chance?" Aaron joked with a smile. Aaron's cum was still in Dan's hand and he had half a mind to lick it from his boss' fingers. Dan opened his mouth as if to say something and then there was a knock at the door. "Just a sec!" Dan cried out and then sheepishly added, "We should probably get back." "Oh yeah," Aaron muttered catching his breath. Dan laughed as Aaron fastened his pants. Aaron walked over to the sick trying to keep his composure but his mind was swarming. The facet exploded and covered the front of him in water. Dan quickly washed his hands, somehow keeping his clothes dry. They walked towards the the door the sink still spitting out water. Dan assured Aaron that he would have a change of clothes for him in his office but at least the water had help to wash away the slight pee stains that Aaron had left on his pants. They opened the door and saw a fellow coworker standing there. "Sink's broken man," he said pointing into the bathroom. "You might want to find another place." "That's the third time this month. When will they fix that thing?" He rolled his eyes and walked away. Aaron felt a strong hand on his shoulder and turned to see a smiling Dan. "So tell me, what'cha doing this weekend?" he asked.
  7. Hello all! This is my first story. Enjoy! Summary: This is a story set in a high fantasy world of my own creation. It will involve a lot of pants-wetting, humiliation, and, to a lesser extent, light scatological stuff. This story is wholly fantasy (in the fictional sense) and is in no way representative of the author's actual views on society and human interaction. CHAPTER 1: Forward scout Alaina kept her gaze fixed on the horizon of the Great Plains. Hidden in among the leaves of a large eldertree on the fringe of Birkwood Forest, she was situated perfectly to sweep her gaze across the vast plain without being seen, enabling her to spot incoming hostile forces from afar and give advance warning to the rest of the villagers. Alaina herself, however, was no mere villager. Powerfully muscled legs allowed her to and lope across the ground with gazelle-like speed and grace, while a sleek, sinewy upper body enabled her to climb tall trees, wield all manner of small melee arms, and draw her trusty longbow as quick as any in the countryside. The fishing village of Ekpana was like any other small agricultural town, but unusual lines of birth - stemming, some say, from the legendary huntress Cozma Anteia herself - led to a population of average men but extraordinary women. Women with heroic athleticism, superfine coordination, supernatural resistance to pain and injury, and intense focus that put them above and beyond that of commen women, and indeed on the level of some of the kingdom's finest warriors. The clanwomen of Ekpana had taken part in some of the land's greatest skirmishes and were known not only for their ferocity in battle, but their startling beauty - many foes had fallen to the sword, awestruck by the visages of these amazonian terrors. Their numbers, however, remained small, and many outside of the village still did not believe the tale of the secret forest camp of elite female warriors; their strength, they believed, lied as much in their dedication to training as to their birthrites, and left them with little time or care to procreate. The men, young children, and elderly women of the village were charged with operating the agricultural activities of Ekpana, the primary source of income, while the women of prime age sequestered themselves in the nearby Ekpana Barracks, focusing their efforts on protecting the enclave. Alaina was not the strongest or fiercest of the warriors, but she was fast and and she was intuitive. These traits made her, at the relatively youthful age of 24, the enclave's lead scout. Her bravery in battle and skilled reconnoisance had led to numerous commendations, including one by the High Matriarch herself. However, this occasion was not a normal vigil. Her mission was still to warn the rest of her clan, yes, but she and all the rest had been expecting enemies on the horizon for days now - the troops of the new Boy King Lazarus of the Ankaran Empire, to be precise. Ekpana had allied itself with the rebel Union that arose in protest of the Boy King's mad machinations. Following the death of his ancient father, the benevolent King Ramzus, the newly anointed Lazarus had done nothing but sown discontent throughout the provinces under his rule. Previous trade agreements were violated at will, territory was forcefully taken from the provinces, whole families known to associate with his political enemies mysteriously vanished... and, disturbingly, the young boy seemed to have a taste for the obscene. He was known to have demanded that serving women close to him be attired in unusual, provocative costumes, he shamelessly slapped and flogged the women of subject villages, and other, stranger tales. Alaina had heard much worse from previous kings and rulers - the odd proclivities of the Boy King actually seemed rather tame compared to the sordid tales of, for instance, the High Lord of Antioch, who was rumored to order whole groups of whores to whip him bloody in his own bedroom - but to hear of such things from a youth his age was troubling. Following the collapse of the Union, then, the village had heard that King Lazarus was moving randomly from village to village, enacting harsh punishments to serve as warning to those who would foment uprising against the empire. Reports of these punishments were vague and varied. Some warned of brutal trade restrictions, while others warned of more of the king's strange fetishes being forced upon the populaces. The villages were small, though, so the sources were limited. However, she and her scouts had recognized the vast bulk of the king's detachment heading directly toward Ekpana, so punishment, no matter what kind, was virtually certain. In any case, Alaina felt a small twinge of fear. Never in her life had the clanswomen been under threat from a greater enemy, but now the king himself was bringing with him a numerically superior force to focus on their small fishing village. The clanswomen could likely decimate a disprprortionate number of the king's soldiers before falling down, but the High Matriarch was not one to sacrifice all for glory; she ordered that the women simply take the punishment with pride and live to fight another day. Most of the clan agreed; if they were powerful and brave enough to withstand amazing levels of harm and trauma, then they were strong enough to resist anything the mad Boy King had to offer. Alaina suddenly noticed a shimmering silver light on the horizon. Surely it was the reflection of Lazarus's host. The silver gleam resolved itself and she could now grasp the size of his company. It was not as large as she was expecting, parts of the host must have splintered off toward other villages, but still she could see that it was far superior to the village. The king's caravan rose high above the troops and was flanked by regal cavalry and platoons of spearmen, so there was no doubt that he was present in this small fragment of his army. Alaina steeled herself, quickly estimated the size of the host, and sped westward into the forest to warn her comrades. *** Ekpana was situated in a small clearing a few miles into the forest. The location gave scouts enough time to warn of incoming danger, but also allowed relatively quick access to the Great Plains while also providing a large buffer of twisting, forested paths, where the clanwomen could easily ambush and dismantle enemies foolish enough to try and assault the village head on. Alaina's quick, strong legs carried her smoothly through the forest. She had committed to mind countless paths through the woods and twisted around the clustered arrays of bushes and tree trunks as though she had planted each piece of foliage herself. She reached the landing leading to the Ekpana Barracks. The entrance was a large gate, fifteen men abroad, crafted from the tall, slender trunks of the forest's gossamer trees. From the gate, a fence two men tall stretched in either direction, enclosing all of the training grounds. It was by no means an impenetrable wall, but it offered just enough protection and distraction from most threats that the women could appropriately prepare themselves. Alaina approached the gates and was waved in by sentries watching through slits in the doors. She sped quickly down the paths, lined with small huts, toward the High Matriarch's quarters. The Barracks, in fact, were something of a misnomer. The clearing was no more than half a mile across, populated with small but exquisitely built thatched huts, meant to house two to four women. The houses were laid out in a circular pattern, and the center of the circle consisted mainly of three separate, flat, fenced off areas for training. At the very center, a large stone-paved town square of sorts was situated, with a large raised platform squarely in the center. This area the clanswomen used to socialize with one another, trade goods, watch fellow soldiers train, and hold recreational events. The atmosphere in the town was tense; women went about their business, training, discussing battle tactics and performing daily chores. All the women of the barracks dressed similarly to one another. Most wore some fashion of leather jerkin or armor, sometimes studded or plated with Lyonese steel and wrought iron, to protect her chest. Some wore one, two, or no pauldrons of tougher leather or metal, depending on what weapons they specialized and which hand they favored. Some midriffs were bare while others were wrapped with additional studded leather sheets. The perpetually hot, humid climate of Ekpana led many women to wear short skirts (as Alaina did), while others favored tight, short-cut pants, and still others (the most confident ones, perhaps) were comfortable with mere skimpy briefs. The women's natural strength and resistance to harm gave them a great deal of leeway in their choice of protection, and all chose to customize her own set of armor in some way or another. As much as they were a tough ruthless model of military efficiency, they also prided their individual strength and personhood. Many whispered in hush tones to each other about their soon to be known fate. The women were expecting Alaina. As they saw her rush in through the arteries of the training grounds and head directly toward the Matriarch's quarters, they could simply watch and wait. They could pretend that the day was as normal, but they knew the truth of things. Alaina reached the Matriarch's quarters, a hut just barely larger than any other, but with a small stuffed falcon perched on pole to indicate its noteworthiness. Alaina entered the house. "Matriarch Susannah," said Alaina breathlessly. A tall, regal woman with clothing more grandiose than any other on the grounds, she wore a flowing cloak stitched from falcon feathers, but still a practical mail of oxskin and plain brown leather briefs that showed her extroardinarily long, smooth legs. She was not so muscled as many of the warriors, but certainly the tallest. On flat feet, she stood half a head taller than most knights. "Head Scout Alaina, what news do you have to report?" The Matriarch's voice was calm and strong. "Lazarus's host appears on the horizon. They bring five fold our number, including engineers to carve their way to the village. At their pace, I suspect they will reach us in less than a week." Susannah's face betrayed no surprise. "It is as I expected, then. Thank you, Alaina." She turned back to the war table in the middle of the room, casting her gaze across the region map. "Matriarch?" pressed Alaina, impatient and worried. "What are your plans? Do we still intend to lay down our arms?" "Our plan remains the same, Alaina. Do not worry. It is our people's only possible path - the only one, I believe, that will not inflict us with great loss." A full month earlier, the Matriarch had announced her plan of action for all in the village. Most agreed with her. While all the women were blessed with physical gifts, and Susannah was no different, some were given strength in areas beyond the physical realm. Matriarchs had been chosen from women with gifts of understanding and insight that had stretched beyond those of the other warriors, and no Matriarch had ever led the clan astray. In spite of the Susannah's own successful history of leadership, there were still those who dissented. "Bullshit," sounded a voice from the doorway. Alaina turned around. Standing tall in the entrance was an imposing figure, arms straight down her sides, feet apart, and hands clenched angrily. The woman stepped forward, heavy boots pounding threateningly, and became illuminated by the room's torch, but Alaina had already known who it was. Leandra, the strongest, fiercest woman in the training ground, and perhaps in the whole kingdom. Leandra was a vanguard, the mightiest frontline warriors of the clanswomen, who wielded melee arms with fearsome ease and skill and craved the battlefield like a babe craves milk. She was not quite so tall as Susannah, but still on even footing with most of the men of the kingdom. Leandra's legs were like huge smooth barrels of glistening iron. While Alaina's own upper body was muscular in a lithe, sleek way, Leandra's muscled churned like an ox's. They were muscles meant to shear heads from bodies. Her great hips, covered by straining leather briefs, and imposing breasts still lent her a womanly figure, but one that could cleave men in twain. Alaina had known Leandra since she was young. She was on comfortable terms with her, and had even sparred with the giant woman some years ago (Alaina was knocked clean unconscious in less than a minute), but could hardly describe Leandra a friend. Leandra walked to an arm's length from the Matriarch, folded her great arms over her chest and tossed her short, black hair from her eyes. "It is a coward's plight, to lay down her sword. Matriarch, you must reconsider this foolishness, this betrayal of our people." Susannah regarded the woman neutrally. "Leandra, though your strength is unmatched in this village, it is not your position to question me. The decision has been made." "So we'll stand meekly by as we suffer their humiliations?" asked Leandra forcefully. "Do we even know what sort of humiliations we face? What about our pride? Our honor? What would the Huntress say?" Out of the corner of her eye, Alaina noticed a small, slim girl sneak quietly into the room, her arms wrapped around a cluster of swords in their scabbards. 'Ah, poor Elena,' thought Alaina. Elie at 14, was among the youngest girls in the training grounds. Younger girls in the village train under the elder matrons until they reach the Age of Iron, when their spirits are ready to be shaped and tempered like pure molten steel. Alaina felt sorry for the poor girl, having to serve as squire for the harshest woman in the compound. "She would be glad of our prudence in preserving our lives," Susannah calmly replied. "Subjugation and punishment are the least of possible harms they can inflict upon us. "And how do you know they'll stop short of killing us? We make ourselves easy targets." "I know." With that, the Matriarch ended the comversation. Leandra glared some seconds longer, then tossed her short hair again and stormed out of the hut. Only then, as Leandra turned, did Alaina notice the giant two handed battleaxe strapped across the woman's back. Elie, struggling to keep her hold on the weapons she was carrying, scuttled out after her. Susannah sighed. "She is so powerful, perhaps the most powerful of all of us, but still so unwise." She sat down behind the table, removed a journal from an adjacent shelf, and began to write. "I'm sorry to keep you overlong, Alaina. Thank you for your work." Alaina nodded, then let herself out. The meeting had not eased her mind. Though she trusted and loved Matriarch Susannah, she could not suppress a deep, vague terror slowly churning in her bowels.
  8. “Time for a walk,” Lea says taking Jamie by the hand. “Yes, mistress,” Jamie moans in pain. He hasn’t peed since last night and the mere thought of walking makes his bladder ache. Lea heads for the front door and Jamie implores, “Won’t you please let me use the restroom before we go? I’ve been a good boy!” Lea glares at her puppet. “No… Now put on your jacket it’s raining, your boots too, we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.” She smiles to herself, knowing his boots will soon be full of warm pee. Jamie drags his feet to the door, loosening his belt a notch to compensate for his swollen bladder. It doesn’t make much of a difference as his pants are tight around his stomach. What fresh hell had he gotten himself into when he decided it was better to be right in an argument than have bathroom privileges. He wasn’t even right in the first place! Now he’s hunched over holding his abdomen and hoping for the pain to end soon. Lea practically drags Jamie out the front door of their apartment toward the stairwell. “The stairs? Oh couldn’t we please take the elevator?” Lea continues dragging him until they reach the first step. Lea starts jogging down the steps with Jamie in tow. “Ah,” he screeches, a small patch of pee staining his light blue jeans. His hands immediately grab at his crotch “Now, puppet, what did I say about wetting yourself. That will only get you more punishment” Lea smile slyly. Punishment for him is pleasure for her. Jamie lets go of the damp material between his legs and tries his hardest to hold on to the inevitable flood. Lea graciously takes the rest of the stairs at a more reasonable pace. She wants this to last as long as possible. They reach the lobby and head out into the pouring rain. It’s spattering causing Jamie to once again grab for his wee hole in despair. He stops the flow just in time to see a larger patch form on his pants, but nothing more. “Puppet, we are in public, it is impolite to grab yourself, now give me your hand,” Lea says. Jamie does as he is directed and holds Lea’s hand. They saunter around the block for about ten minutes, the rain subsiding and the sun starting to shine through the trees. Lea decides it’s time to go for a little hike and leads Jamie into a small meadow behind their apartment building. She hops over a downed tree and Jamie lifts his foot to go over it when a sudden wave of desperation overwhelms him, causing him to drop both feet to the ground and shove both hands into his crotch. Lea watches in delight as he squirms. Jamie tries his best to hold back the days’ worth of pee inside of him, but it is of no use. The flood gates open and it gushes from him. Lea watches has the light blue fabric of his pants becomes a shiny dark shade of denim. He stands for at least three minutes, head tilted down in shame and boots filling with pee. Lea can’t help but sit on the downed tree and touch herself. Jamie spots Lea’s uncontrollable arousal and can’t help but stare in lust. His bladder being empty, he now has a different feeling in his loins. His turn. He grabs Lea’s hand and they run together back to their apartment, galoshes spilling all of the pee they had accumulated.
  9. A little back story for those of you who don't know me: I'm involved in a D/S relationship, which stands for dominant and submissive. I'm sure most of you have some sort of knowledge about the BDSM community and what that's all about. I've been involved in that for quite a while as a dominant (basically the one who calls the shots) and have a MtF submissive/sex slave. My sub has many odd kinks but was never quite open to the idea of wetting. I know she would have done it if I made her...cause she wouldn't really have a choice. But I hated the idea of making her do something so enjoyable if she was against it completely. So I've been trying for a long time to warm her up to the idea (starting with wearing diapers, moving on to the idea of me peeing on her as a punishment or reward, etc.). Now onto the actual story: After a playing session with my sub one day she confessed to me that she had kinda thought about wetting her diapers. She seemed really unsure about the idea, so I was under the impression that it was just a thought and she would end up not actually doing it. So I basically just dismissed that idea from my head. A few weeks later we were texting and on the topic of diapers and I made some sort of joke about wetting mine. That was when my dream came true. She opened up and told me that a few days prior she was home alone and in her diaper and needed to pee, so she decided to see what all the fuss was about and wet herself. She didn't really give much detail, but that was all I needed to get excited! I asked her how it felt and she seemed to be somewhere in the middle. She said she didn't hate it but that it wasn't anything fantastic. I asked why and she said it "Wasn't messy enough for her." After a bit more poking and prodding at her and talking about wetting in general I asked her if she was open to the idea of trying it in her panties for me next time we had the chance to hook up, and she happily agreed. She said she felt that might be a lot more enjoyable for her. We got onto a discussion about that and how we would do it and I teased her and brought up all sorts of kinky possibilities to making her have a legitimate accident, all of which really sparked her interest and thrilled me to death! It took about an hour but then I recieved a text from her saying "Miss...I have to pee." I knew she was home alone and I asked her if she still had more diapers. She said yes and I demanded her to put one on and wet it while talking to me (I was no longer afraid to force her since I knew she no longer hated the idea). She texted me while she put on her cute little pull-ups (they're truly adorable!) and I gave her permission to go outside on the lawn in case her diaper leaked because she was worried about the clean up. I seriously thought I was dreaming when I got the text from her saying "Okay miss, I'm ready to wet myself." And from that point on came a serious of messages from her describing to me that she was wetting her diaper, legs slightly spread on her lawn. It didn't leak, but as she described it her diaper "is very full and I can feel it warm and wet between my legs." It was the hottest conversation of my life!
  10. Version 1.0.0

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    Ok this is a strange one. A girl has a personal trainer who drives her very hard while she is desperate. She leaks a few times and her trainer even pees in front of her, driving her over the edge. I'm not sure what happens here but enjoy. *contains nudity* Enjoy Rach

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  11. Here's an extremely concise story I tried to write for the "Very Short Stories" thread, but I couldn't get it below 700 words. After a long drought, he was thirsty for intimacy. His wife picked an awkward time to initiate it. "You should get off my lap," he reluctantly said. "Why?" she wondered. "I have to go to the bathroom pretty bad." She made a proposition. "Why don't you hold it as long as you can? If you make it an hour, I'll let you get to first base. If you last two hours, you can go to second. Get the picture?" They sat on the couch watching steamy movies. She made sure he couldn't leave. In shortly under four hours he began to leak. He was urinating uncontrollably when the timer clicked over. He ended up soaked and shameful. With a smile, she said, "Why don't you get out of those wet clothes and into your wet wife?"
  12. A rough draft written in a hurry one night. To be revised later. Comments and critiques encouraged! She was a lovely sight to wake up to. She was reclining in a sensual position near the edge of the bed with her head propped on her elbow. The pose accentuated her hips. The thin cover just barely kept her decent. She was smiling at him with her eyelids slightly narrowed in a sultry expression. It looked like she was waiting for him to wake up and see her. "Good morning," he said as he slowly recovered from his deep sleep. "I have something to tell you." He didn't say anything. His expression was blank and sleepy. "Aren't you going to guess?" she asked. She climbed over the bed until their faces were close. Almost kissing. "It's something personal," she whispered. "Sorry, dear. I'm not good at guessing games." He pulled his face away from hers so he could yawn and stretch. "Not this early." "I'm feeling it now!" she announced. She flashed her sweetheart a naughty grin. "Good for you," he said sleepily. "I don't know what that means." "You don't?" she pouted. Remember last night in bed?" He tried, but it was like trying to see through murky water. They stayed late at their friend's wedding reception. His last memory was the ride home. "I'm sorry," he eventually replied. "I had a lot to drink last night." "You were frisky last night. Don't you remember? Especially when we went to bed. You were getting really lively! I told you to cool it 'cause I wasn't feeling it. And you did. You were a good boy. But you said to make sure to tell you the next time I was feeling it. I'm feeling it now." With those words, she pulled him close in an amorous embrace. "I have something personal to tell you," he whispered when their faces were close. "What is it?" asked the smiling, playful woman. "My bladder's about to explode." She giggled and leaped out of bed. "Race you to the bathroom!" He got up and ran after her but he didn't stand a chance. He was striff and groggy and she had a head start. He had second thoughts about mentioning his painful need for relief because he might've piqued his lover's interest. Every now and then she'd decide to treat his bladder as a plaything. Sometimes it was only a brief tease. Other times it was a domination game that lasted for hours. He didn't know how it would play out today. By the time he got to the bathroom door it was only open a crack. The face of his beloved was peeking out with a mischievous smile. "I won!" "Good for you! Seriously, can I get in? I have to go pretty bad." "You went straight to bed without a potty break last night didn't you?" "I must have." "Next time you'll know better!" she sang as she closed the door. "Seriously, can I come in?" She opened it a crack. "Boys and girls aren't allowed in the same bathroom," she teased. She stuck out her tongue at him and closed the door. "Fine! Be silly like that," he said. He could've sat down but his mind was fixed so eagerly in the thought of using the toilet that he stood outside the door. That didn't mean he stood still. He rocked and squirmed with the pain of his bladder which now seemed twice as stretched as before. She kept teasing him even while he was shut out. Instead of simply sitting down she hopped up onto the toilet seat. She dropped into a crouch and shot out a golden jet with as much force as her body could manage. She wanted him to hear. It hissed and splattered and turned the toilet bowl into rumbling rapids. "Eeoommm!" she moaned with exaggerated relief. "That feels so good! Oh yes! That's just what I needed." "Can you hurry up?" she heard from outside the door. The frustration in his voice came through loud and clear. "It's rude to rush a lady," she said as her stream was losing force. "Please, darling. Be considerate of my feelings." "I could finish up in a second and let you in," she said when her stream had stopped. "Thank you." "Or I could not," she added. Her fullness was gone but there was still a bit left in her bladder. She forced a jet out. A brief tinkling filled the air. After a moment she shot off another one. "You have do be about finished by now. Right?" "Don't rush me. I felt a little something in my tummy. I could have a BM coming on!" "No!" he protested. "Be polite. Let me go potty in peace." She finished emptying her bladder. Then she slowly and deliberately reached for the toilet paper and ripped the last two squares off. Just as slowly and just as deliberately she dabbed her womanhood dry. She lowered herself into a sitting position and waited for the next development. She doubted she would really need to do anything more on the toilet but she sat there anyway. She could hear the sounds of her beloved's bare feet as he paced outside the hall. He was really getting uncomfortable. She just sat there and let him get more uncomfortable. She was beginning to get bored when he called to her again. "Can I come in now?" She pulled up her panties and put down the lid but didn't flush. Soon the couple was talking through the open door. "I'm done usi...!" she started to say in a cheerful voice but she noticed something that made her stop. Her lover had just taken his hands off his tighty-whities and nonchalantly put his arms to his sides when she opened the door. "Were you holding your crotch?" she asked with a giggle. He blushed and nervously mumbled something incomprehensible. "It's all right," she teased. "You can stick your hands in your undies and hold your pee-pee shut if you have to. You can even do the potty dance. I understand little boys have trouble holding their wee-wee in." He got more red and she got more giggly. There wasn't a word exchanged for a moment. He obviously wanted her to let him in the bathroom but didn't know how. After some moments of awkwardness he did something unexpected. He stepped up to the ajar door and kissed his sweetheart. "You're so cute!" he said when he'd finished. "You've still got that girlish mischief in you. It's one of the many things that make you so lovable." He was trying to charm her into letting him urinate. She took it in a different direction. "You're lovable too." She kissed him back. This kiss was longer and more passionate. "Do you still want to make love this morning?" "Yes!" he answered without hesitation. "Then I'd better get clean!" she said. "I'll be in the shower." His smile fell into a frown. His eyes lost their gleam and opened wide with horror. "Can I use the toilet while you use the shower?" he asked breathlessly. He knew the answer. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with that," she said as she shut the door once more. A minute later she got a great idea. A naughty idea. She opened the door all the way. "I'm sorry I teased you," she said. "You're not a little boy." Her almost-naked body embraced his. She could feel the tension in his muscles and the big hard bladder in his abdomen. "You're a big boy," she said in a seductive voice. She twisted around his body and lowered her voice until she was whispering in his ear. "And you know what big boys can do?" "What's that?" asked the amorous man. "Hold it," she answered. Before he knew it his special lady was back inside the bathroom and the door was locked. She spent an hour cleaning herself under the shower-head and preening herself in front of the mirror. That mischievous woman didn't know what state her man would be in when she came out of the bathroom again. Maybe he would've used a jar to relieve himself. Or the bathroom at the convenience store down the block. Or maybe he'd be perfectly composed because he wanted to show how good his control was. Maybe he was waiting to force his way to the toilet the second the lock clicked. She opened the door and casually strolled out wearing only a towel. She grinned a diabolical grin when she saw him. A special womanly thrill passed through her body as she took in the sight of her strong masculine lover reduced to a little boy. He still hadn't gotten dressed or left the sight of the bathroom door. He was sitting in a chair in the next room with his legs tightly crossed. He carefully uncrossed his legs and slowly stood up. As soon as he was out of the chair he was clutching the manly bulge in his underwear and his legs were twirling his body back and forth in an impatient squirm. He wasn't even trying to hide his desperation. He looked like he could have an accident at any second. "Please!" he said. It was sort of an immature whine and sort of a desperate cry. "Soon," said the still-smiling woman. "Stand up straight like a man!" He straightened his legs and stood as tall as he could. He took one hand off his groin but hesitated with the other. "Hands on your sides!" she ordered. He obeyed. Her eyes got big. There was a spot on the front of his underwear. The white cotton was dark and yellow right where it bulged in the front. "Uh-oh! Having a little trouble there?" He said nothing. The only thing she got from him was red cheeks. "Hold still." She walked up to him and took him by the arms. "Keep holding," she said as she started to pull him downward. He winced and made a half-hearted try to stop her. "Spread your legs," she said. "Come down to my eye-level." He complied. The wet spot got bigger. Soon a little liquid was making it out of the underwear. His legs splayed wider and his body sank lower until the lovers were face-to-face. Little trickles made their way down his hairy legs. Little droplets dripped on the wooden floor. She looked into his eyes. They looked innocent. Vulnerable. That excited her more. "Are we done here?" he squeaked. "This has gone pretty far. Even for one of your teasing sessions." "I'm done." She held him in place as she kissed him long and hard. He fought it at first but gave into the sweetness. He put so much attention into that kiss he relaxed the hold on his bladder. The trickling and pitter-patting accelerated. When the two sets of loving lips finally parted there was a little puddle on the floor. "I'd like to go now," he said. She still held him tight. He was still in a painful position. "Wouldn't you like to go right here?" He was silent. She pointed to the saturated front of his underwear and then to the tiny pond beneath him. "You already started. Wouldn't you like to finish? Wouldn't you like to let everything go and bask in the sensation of relief? Wouldn't that just be great?" He closed his eyes and nodded. She let go of her sweetheart. He wobbled for a moment and fell backwards. He ended up sitting on his bottom with his hands holding him half-way upright and his half-bent legs jutting forward. The dark spot on his tighty-whities turned a glistening yellow as it became overwhelmed with liquid. It evacuated the waterlogged fabric in two streams that soon fused into a single violent waterfall. It was coming faster and faster and hitting the wood harder and harder. The new pool on the floor soon grew large enough to engulf the first one. She watched her lover's on-purpose accident with unrestrained glee. He threw his head back and groaned with relief. It changed the position of his body. The downward rush of a waterfall became the upward spurt of a geyser. It flowed out at that angle for some time before the dwindling pressure changed its course. When he sat up the eruption turned into an outward flow. He was now in the middle of a gleaming golden lake. His sweetheart had been crouching in front of the bathroom door staring wordlessly at the spectacle the entire time. Now that the flow had ebbed she stood up and walked over to him. She held out her arms and strained to pull her muscular man up to an upright position. Soon they were both standing. He was dripping furiously. "Put your foot up." He obliged and she whipped off her towel and laid it on the puddle. He put it back down on the towel. "Now put the other one up," she said. When he did she unfolded the towel to catch the rest of the wet mess. "Now hold still." With no other warning she pulled his soggy underwear down to his feet. Now they were both completely naked. "I'm feeling it right now," she said with a sultry smile. "And I don't mind a wet bed."
  13. Hi everyone, So I recently discovered that I myself enjoy holding and getting desperate. Originally I was only into watching others get desperate and wet themselves. I told my girlfriend of 7 months, who isn't into anything omorashi-related, about this and she agreed to participate in dominating me, getting me desperate (you know, making me drink water, denying me the bathroom, etc.). This sounds great to me, and she likes the domination aspect, but we're both a little nervous because she's not into the pee desperation aspect of it. Anyways I was just wondering if you all had some advice for us, maybe you've experienced something similar. We're trying this out later this week. Anything helps! Thanks! -Ray
  14. From the album: OverFlo207 - 2017

    Flo's boyfriend ^^ And here's to 2017!
  15. This is part of a fan fiction I wrote a while back. This is one chapter (The third) but the other chapters don't really fit. It works just as well as a stand alone story. The fandom is Hannibal (TV show) but regardless of if you watch the show or not, it still works. There's nothing you really need to know about the shows or the characters to read the story. It contains desperation, wetting, humiliation, and masturbation. Also Dom/Sub elements. M/F/F (Dominant female and male with a submissive female). Feedback is appreciated if you want. ****** Freddie was back at Hannibal's house for dinner that night. Mistress wasn't there. She had been under the impression Mistress would be there but she had yet to show up. Any time she tried to bring it up Hannibal changed the subject. It was just her and him for the moment. She wasn't sure how much she hated it and how much she loved it. At least if it was just the two of them she had a better chance at snooping around, and the house was huge. "Uh, sir, can I please use the bathroom?" She asked him. He looked up from his food. It had been silent til that moment but she really didn't think she had anything to say that wouldn't offend the hell out of him. She had just been answering random questions when he asked and he seemed to really be enjoying the food anyway. Not that it wasn't good but he acted like it was manna from heaven. "Yes, down the hall, to your left." He said and then sort of waved her off dismissively with his hand. Really? He was going to be that much of an idiot and trust her to find it herself? Okay then, this was all his fault. He was asking for it. She had dressed how he had told her to. Short, black, low cut cocktail dress. He had also requested she straighten her hair and tie it back. She had no idea why she was so eager to follow orders, it was possibly the orgasms he had given her so far. She hadn't seen him since the night with Mistress at the charity ball and she was going nuts. Though she was able to cum without them, no matter what she did it wasn't nearly strong enough to keep her sated. She was slowly beginning to realize they basically owned her at this point. If she wanted any leverage at all, she would have to find some dirt on one of them to use as blackmail. Though she really did have to pee, she didn't have to go that bad yet and she figured he was so into his meal he wouldn't notice if she was gone a bit longer than usual. She looked in several rooms until she found an office. Jackpot. Walking in, and shutting the door quietly behind her, she headed towards his desk. Maybe there was more information about Will Graham in there. Though that wouldn't exactly give her leverage she was overly curious with what was up with that guy. Also it was getting her more subscribers to her site which meant more money. She stepped up behind the desk and slowly started to open drawers. Everything seemed pretty bland. An appointment book, some business cards. None of this was going to help. Then she came to a locked drawer. Huh. She tugged on it a few times, nothing. Without her lock picking kit it wasn't going to come open, well that or a key. There must be a key in there somewhere. She looked around, where would he hide it? She doubted he kept it on him at all times so she was going to have to be smart about this. Her hands roamed under the bottom part of the desk for compartments or to see if anything was taped there. Nothing. Looking around she noticed framed pictures on the wall. Maybe he would hide it behind one of those. Without realizing this left her turned away from the door and unable to tell if Hannibal was coming she went for them quickly, starting to turn them to check the backs. She only looked behind the second one before she was interrupted. "I will take this to mean you didn't learn your lesson about not snooping before?" Hannibal's voice drifted towards her firmly. She quickly turned the picture around and then turned to face him. "I lost my contacts?" She asked stupidly. It was clearly a piss poor excuse but she had nothing going for her at that point. "In a room you've never stepped foot in, ever?" He asked and came towards her. She let out a small squeak and backed up, only to feel her back hit a wall in the corner of the room. "Well at least you've learned not to run from me, however we will have to work on this backing away." He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her forward and down onto her knees. She cried out. "I couldn't find the bathroom and...and you have nice art." She stammered. He was aroused, incredibly aroused. Without knowing why she started to nuzzle her face against the fabric of his pants, over the bulge, like a very lonely and affection cat would do. His breathing increased but he didn't moan. "Or you lied." He breathed. "I would like to finish my dinner now. Come with me." Her hair was grabbed again and she was led by it back to the dining room table. Now she really did have to pee, she had screwed herself over with this move. Fuck. "Okay yeah but I seriously have to pee." She said. "If it could wait long enough for you to snoop, then it can wait long enough for me to finish my food." He said. She let out a low whine but really had no choice to go with him at that point. He shoved her down into the chair she was in before. "Stay, finish your food as well, all of it. The wine too. It was expensive." "Look, sir, you don't want me drinking any more liquids at this point." She told him seriously. "I don't believe you are telling the truth. You will not leave until you finish everything set before you. Start." He said and sat down as well. Another whimper came out of her and she started to eat quickly. "No. That doesn't count. Eat properly." He snapped. "Sir I--""You have lost what little credibility you had with me before, don't tempt my wrath." He said. She bit her lip and crossed her legs tightly, the top leg swinging rather angrily as she started to eat like a 'civilized' person at a dinner party. She reached for the wine and took a small sip. Okay that definitely wasn't going to help the problem she was now facing. She looked at him and opened her mouth to ask him how serious he was. "This is not a game. Do as you're told." "Yes well there's only a certain amount of time a person can hold a full bladder." She replied. "Enough time to snoop in an office?" He asked. She grumbled under her breath that he was a bastard and started to eat again. The doorbell rang and she looked up. "That would be your Mistress. She was late with a client. Stay where you are or you will regret it." Freddie nodded and looked at the wine. Almost a full glass. She had already had a full glass before dinner and it was going through her. Alcohol always did. She would just save it until she was done with her food then chug it down. That was her best option at that point. "So Hannibal tells me you were snooping before, yes?" Mistress asked as she entered a moment later. Hannibal wasn't there, Freddie assumed he was getting food for her. "With what intent, Ms. Lounds? To humiliate one of us into doing your bidding?" "N-No Mistress I swear I was just...I couldn't find the bathroom." She lied again then almost winced when she heard how apologetic and weak she sounded. "Well, I will personally take you there when I'm finished eating. No sooner." Mistress replied. "You must finish as well." "But I don't think I--""You don't get to think. We are in charge now. You need to learn that you cannot get the upper hand and your punishment is this." She replied. Hannibal brought a plate of food in and set it down, along with a glass of wine. "My punishment is what?" She asked. Of course she was ignored at that point. Mistress started to talk to Hannibal about shit she didn't care about. Well she might have cared had she not had to concentrate on holding her piss in. She kept eating, her hands getting more and more shaky. Mistress was eating painfully slow, at that point Hannibal was just sipping his wine. Though she was sure he was smelling it more than he was drinking it. She wanted to scream, she wasn't going to make it. They weren't punishing her, unless they considered boredom a punishment. They were talking about going to the opera or something lame like that. It wasn't interesting. "Please..." She finally begged. Her legs were twisted tight and she was bent over more than usual. "Sit up. Uncross your legs, don't sit like that, it's not proper." Hannibal told her. She felt her lower lip tremble. "I probably shouldn't uncross--""Do as your told or there is no orgasm tonight." Mistress warned. Almost as if a button was pushed in her brain she sat up straight and uncrossed her legs. She pushed her knees together tightly though, tensed her thighs. This made everything a lot worse. Her fingers tapped on the table. "That's annoying. You will stop." Hannibal glared at her. "S-Sorry." She said and put her hand on her lap. After a moment she opened her legs and jammed her hand between them trying to desperately stop what would be happening very soon. They both looked at her and went back to talking. Mistress continued to eat. Freddie then realized what was going on. She wasn't going to get to go to the bathroom. Her punishment was pure humiliation as she had been trying to get the information to do the same thing to Hannibal. No. No he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her do that in his nice chair in his nice dining room while they ate. He would find that disgusting. That was unless he found her humiliation worth it. "I can't hold it any more." She breathed after another five painful minutes of them chatting about race horses or something else that was dumb. Something about horses, maybe breeding or riding them. She didn't care. "You won't like what happens if you don't." Hannibal warned. "Finish your wine." "I can't." She told him. "No, you just won't. There is a difference." Mistress told her. She felt a tear escape her eye, her legs trembling underneath her. Hannibal got up. "Finish it." He said, grabbing the glass and thrusting it in her direction. "M-Master please..." She whined, looking up at him with what must have been the most pathetic eyes ever. He looked back, his gaze was firm. With an incredibly unstable hand she reached for the glass and took it. Taking a deep breath she downed all of it in one go before he could yell at her that it was rude to drink like that. She slammed the glass down onto the table. "Done." She panted and let out a small cough. "You might want to move her." Mistress said, "It's a nice night out, we could sit out on the patio." "I would prefer her not sitting there either." Hannibal said. "No darling I said WE could sit. She can stand." Mistress smirked and stood up. She grabbed her wine and plate and headed towards the back doors opening one of them. Hannibal chuckled and grabbed Freddie by the hair. He yanked her to her feet and she screamed. Being ignored again she was pulled out onto the patio and shoved into the center of it as Hannibal and Mistress sat at the table. Mistress continued to eat, but both of them were watching her now. "Hands behind your back, feet should be shoulder width apart. Head straight, eyes cast down. Obedient." Mistress said. "You need to learn you are not the one in control and if anyone is going to be humiliated it will be you Ms. Lounds.""If I stand like that I won't have long before...""That's the point. We know." Hannibal told her and sat back. He sipped at his own glass of wine with an evil smirk, which she both hated and was severely aroused by at the same time. "Please don't make me--""This is not being forced, you are not a prisoner, you can walk out of here if you want. However, that will make our deal void and you will not get another chance to play with us. Ever." Mistress told her firmly. She let out a weak cry and then slowly got into the position they told her to be in. Fuck, she really didn't have long and they were intent on this. If they wanted to humiliate her, this was a damn good way to do it. Even worse, she found she was entirely too aroused. Though her stomach churned from the thought of what was going to happen and she was nearly dizzy with the anticipation of one of the most horribly embarrassing moments in her life as an adult, she was throbbing with arousal and aching for release. This intense humiliation was turning her on. She had no power with these people, she knew it, they knew it, and it was intoxicating. Mistress and Hannibal went back to talking but they were still looking at her. A moment later she felt it start to happen. It was slow at first as she was fighting it. There was no way she actually wanted to piss herself and so her brain was telling her body to cut it out. However, this was punishment enough and she was going to keep position and let it happen. She had to, because if she didn't get another orgasm from them tonight she was going to go insane. A small cry escaped her as she felt herself lose complete control of her bladder. She clenched her jaw, fell silent, and looked straight ahead. Her face flaring up red. She could feel the piss running down her legs, ruining her shoes and parts of her dress, soaking it. Still, she never moved from that spot. "Dirty little whore isn't she?" Mistress asked. "Yes but I rather like her like that. Never thought I'd see Freddie Lounds in such a state. I can nearly taste her embarrassment here. She must really want to orgasm tonight." Hannibal said. Though she wasn't looking at them, she could hear them just fine and feel their eyes on her. Since her eyes were cast down she could see the puddle of urine forming under her. It seemed to take forever, like this moment was frozen in time. Even though about thirty seconds later she was done it felt like a damn hour. "She can hold a lot for such a little thing. It was a good idea to move her outside." Hannibal said and pulled Mistress into a kiss. "I always have good ideas, Hannibal." She smiled and kissed him softly. She finished up her food and headed inside with her plate. Freddie was too horrified to say or do anything but stand there like she had been told. Scared that one wrong move at that point was going to get her in a lot of trouble. She felt Hannibal staring at her, until Mistress came back out with a towel. She stood in place as she was wiped down as much as possible and then Mistress was in front of her, a hand gripping her chin firmly. "Look at me." She ordered. Freddie's eyes immediately flicked upwards to meet Mistress's. "Good girl. Make yourself cum." "But you--""Uh uh uh..." She said pressing a finger to Freddie's lips. "We didn't promise we'd help you we just said you could. Now, make yourself cum." She said. "Can I at least get more clean?" She whined. "Urine is sterile you'll be fine." Hannibal said dismissively, "You may get clean after." "I'm not sure I even can after th--""Try." Mistress said and sat back down by Hannibal. The last thing Freddie wanted to do was finger fuck herself in front of these people after she had wet herself like a damn child yet, god was she ever horny. She licked her lips and hesitated. "You have thirty seconds to start or you go home with nothing." Hannibal told her. She hurried into action, maybe that was a promise of more to come if she obeyed. Hitching her dress up quickly, she slipped a hand into her panties and then two into her cunt. A very loud moan escaped her. Fuck, maybe she wouldn't need their touch. This orgasm was going to be massive. She worked her hand quickly, in front of these two perverse but amazingly controlling dominants. Her eyes flicking back and fourth between each amused face. Extremely amused, aroused, lust soaked eyes and heavy breathing. Another moan left her, her body shifted. She worked her hand faster. Who would have ever thought her own humiliation could get her to this level of pleasure? Her breathing and heart rate started to climb rapidly. Her breath hitched, as the palm of her hand pressed firmly against her clit she climaxed. Her scream was cut off in a breathless choke. Her body spasmed, her eyes rolled back in her head. Wave after wave of pleasure shook her until she was sure she'd pass out. When her vision cleared, she stumbled back, away from the mess she had left and ended up on her knees in the grass, coughing and trying to get her breath back. "Well done, pet. Have you learned your lesson about who is in charge yet?" Hannibal asked her. "Y-Yes Master...Mistress...I...I understand." She breathed trying to focus on just one spot on the grass until she could get her bearings back and maybe be able to stand up. "Good. You will be spending the night here. Entertain any more thoughts of snooping and the next punishment will be far worse." Mistress said. "I will take you inside now to get cleaned up, understood?" "Yes, Mistress." She said getting to her feet on very shaky legs. She wasn't exactly sure when she became this person, or how she had ended up such a pathetic shadow of her former self around them, but she couldn't say she hated it either.
  16. For my 200th post, i am going to begin this story. It is fact-based fiction, and i hope to exorcise some old demons by posting it. Apologies to QT and to RR... Blade of Vengeance Pt. 1 Three young men sat tied securely to their chairs in a dark, dank basement, clad only in their underwear. They shivered, both from the cold air, and with a growing sense of dread. They each had funnels in their mouths, and tubes running down into their stomachs. There was a large cistern of water suspended above them and water was dripping into the funnels and flowing continuously through those tubes. Their stomachs were distended, their bladders full to the bursting point. They were quite uncomfortable; the urge to urinate was getting overwhelming but they couldn’t, because their penises had been bound tightly, and catheters inserted. There was no way to release the pressure building within. The last thing any of them could remember was that they had been invited to a party by a very attractive woman wearing a tight black leather outfit. But upon arriving at her house, they found only one other person there, a slightly younger girl who was dressed seductively in a French maid’s outfit. The young men had taken seats in the living room, and were served drinks by the young girl as the woman watched, an amused smile on her face. She explained the situation to the young men. She was a dominant mistress; the younger girl was her ‘sub’, and would therefore be obliged to do whatever was requested of her. The dominant made it quite clear that they wouldn’t be having sex with her, or with her sub. “However, she’ll be quite happy to play with you in some other ways a bit later, if you so wish,“ the leather-clad woman said. Her voice was soft, with a seductive foreign accent they couldn't place. The boys couldn’t believe their luck at first. They were so thrilled at the chance to engage in some hot kinky action that they didn’t notice the sardonic smile on the woman’s lips as she uttered those words. They jumped at the opportunity, agreeing immediately. Fools... As the girl served them their drinks, their hands wandered over her body, touching her small breasts and reaching up under the short, revealing black skirt she was wearing. They could feel the tops of her silky stockings, and the garters that held them in place. Although her face and body displayed no emotion, inwardly she shuddered as they touched her. She could feel nothing except repulsion and rage. She took a deep breath to calm herself, her mind drifting backwards to the events that had led them all to this time and place. It was ten years to the day since she had been abducted and raped by these same three boys. She had been talking on the net with one of them, and had agreed to go to a comic convention with him. The day of the convention, he picked her up in his car. He had two friends with him, but she didn’t think anything was wrong with that at first. On the way, he offered her a soda. It was a hot day, and the girl drank it eagerly, because she was thirsty. Being nervous always made her thirsty, and she was starting to get a bit nervous in this car with three unfamiliar boys, who had begun looking at her in a way that was making her very uncomfortable. She pulled her short denim skirt down as far as she could towards her knees, regretting that she had chosen the outfit she was now wearing. Plain white cotton panties and a matching bra. Over those, a tight white lycra camisole top, a denim jacket and miniskirt, white ankle socks and black low-cut sneakers. A small Hello Kitty backpack to hold personal items: her diary, a water bottle, hairbrush, makeup and cell phone. An inexperienced and naive girl who attended an all-girls parochial school, she had wanted to look cute that day. She had wanted this boy to like her. She had never been on a date before, and didn't know what to expect; she only hoped he was as nice as he had seemed when they spoke on the computer. By the time the girl had finished the soda, the uncomfortable feeling had grown stronger, and was now accompanied by a woozy sensation inside her head. Her vision blurred, and she slumped forward in her seat. Her last memory was of laughter, and someone saying, “Looks like you’ve caught us another fish, Billy!” Billy, that was the boy she’d been talking to on her computer. She passed out. When she woke up again, she was lying naked on a bed in a dark room, tied up tightly in a spread eagle position. She was still woozy and disoriented, but as she realized her helpless position, a feeling of inescapable terror began to engulf her. She tried to call out for help, but her mouth was gagged and she was unable to make any sound except for a soft whimper. She already had to pee, and her fear made her lose control. She began to wet herself, soaking the mattress with her hot urine as her bladder released the fluid within, feeling it rushing out from between her spread-apart legs, powerless to prevent it. Then, as the flow diminished, she could feel it trickling down between her buttocks. Normally, she enjoyed the sensation, but not while in this situation. Now, humiliation and shame were added to her terror. How could she have been so trusting, so stupid? She heard a door open, and one of the three boys entered the room. “Good, you’re finally awake! “ he said, chuckling. “It’s no fun having sex with a corpse.” The young girl strained desperately at her bonds, trying to break free, but it was no use. She had been tied too securely. There was no hope of freeing herself, no way to cry for help. She was trapped. And over the next few horrible hours, she lived through a hell that no one should have to experience. During her ordeal, she tried to let her mind drift away from what was happening to her, but at that time she did not possess the mental powers of her present-day self. No, back then she had been a helpless victim, unable to escape either in body or in mind. And they had had their way with her. Nine years ago, waking up with a headache and an empty stomach. She had tried to kill herself with an overdose of pills stolen from her mother, but they had found her lying on the bathroom floor. Her mother called the ambulance that rushed her to the hospital, where they pumped her stomach and then admitted her for psychiatric evaluation. Diagnosis: severe depression. They could never figure out the cause, and she never told them. The three boys that had raped her had promised that if she ever told anyone about what they had done to her, they would come back and hurt her again. After the suicide attempt, she was subject to sudden panic attacks, and the ADD she had already been afflicted with was joined by OCD, which manifested itself in all sorts of strange ways too numerous to detail. She was, in the words of a former friend, ‘a weird chick’ now. She was an emotional basket case… a wreck. Eight years ago, completely alone… family not understanding, people she had once thought of as friends not caring what she was going through. The darkest time, darker even than before her suicide attempt, because now she knew that no matter how bad the pain got, she would live on and suffer through it. She could not allow herself to take the easy way out. She was now dependent on antidepressant drugs to dull the constant pain. Seven years ago, starting college… her grandmother, the only one in her family she had ever felt close to, had passed away the year before. In her will she had left a trust for her favorite granddaughter to attend the college of her choice. Eager to leave her hometown and its unpleasant memories behind her, she had enrolled in a small liberal arts school in the northeastern USA. She took the usual classes, but also began to study the martial arts, first by taking self-defense classes that were offered by the college, and then, studying privately with the Japanese woman who taught those classes, progressing slowly but steadily. Finding a focus at last, a physical pain now overlaying the emotional one. She started with Aikido, and then moved on to Kendo. The smooth wooden sword felt strangely natural in her hands, as if she had been born to hold it. And she began to progress more rapidly. In her junior year, she found someone who cared for her, and with her help, was able to leave the antidepressant drugs behind her permanently. A ray of light now pierced the darkness that had surrounded her. And she continued to train, even more intently now. A goal had formed in her mind. Three years ago, college behind her… sitting at a lunch counter in a run-down section of Tokyo. The dour, wizened man behind the counter asking, “What can I get you?” “A sword.” she replied. “A very special sword. A Hattori Hanzo sword.” The man looked at her intently. “And why would you have need of such a sword, young one?” “I have a rat problem.,” she answered. “Yes, a rat problem.” “Must be a very big rat.”, the man said with a smile. “Three big rats, in fact.” As she said that, she felt herself smile for the first time in a very long while. “Funny,” the man said, almost to himself. “Not too long ago, another pretty girl was here with almost exactly the same problem.” He nodded his head, and said, “You’d better go upstairs. This will take some time…” One year ago, back in the USA.. Researching her prey, finding out their current location, their habits, and their vices. Preparing in secret, continuing to train with fist and sword. She was hard now, inside and out. Honed physically, mentally, and emotionally. Watching her prey, and waiting. Waiting for the right moment to strike. Tonight, that long-delayed moment had finally arrived. Her three former tormentors sat helpless before her, as helpless as she had been on that fateful afternoon ten years ago. They had not even recognized her when she served them their drugged cocktails; ten years ago she had been just another victim, faceless and soon forgotten. They certainly would not recognize her now that she had changed into a black cotton ninja suit and mask… but this time they would not forget her. They would remember her for as long as they lived, that much was certain. The only question now was how long that period might be. In her hands she grasped the sheathed sword, the Hattori Hanzo sword she had worked so hard to earn. The old man would not sell her a sword, not for any price, he had told her. “The sword will be made to be worthy of its owner,” Hanzo-sama said, “but first, the owner must prove herself worthy to carry such a weapon.” He was not smiling then. It had taken her four long years to do so, four years of agonizing physical and mental training. But she herself had become a weapon forged in pain. Four long years… She had emerged rejuvenated, reborn, and ready. And he had given her the sword on the day she left him to return to her home in the USA. Reluctantly, yes; but given it to her all the same. She had earned it. His parting words to her: “Use it with wisdom and restraint; for each use takes a toll you will someday be forced to reckon with. This is why I put down my own sword so many years ago. I live now only to atone for my actions. Go in peace, young one. “ But peace was not what she sought; not then… not now. Her fingers grasped the lacquered sheath of her sword, feeling the cool smoothness of it. After all the time she had spent with a katana in her hands, it felt natural for one to be there now. The sword had become an extension of her body, of her mind, and of her will. And this blade was special. It had been designed, forged and honed especially for her by the master Hattori Hanzo himself, its weight and balance perfectly suited to her own, its hilt carved to match the size and curvature of her small hands precisely. It was the perfect weapon for her. Wielding this katana took no effort; she had only to think of a target, and almost as if by sorcery, the blade would be on its way, slicing easily through whatever lay in its path. The kill would be quick and painless, unless she wished it otherwise. But tonight, she wanted it to hurt. These three boys had hurt her badly, practically destroyed her ten years ago. They had left her beaten and broken and bruised all over, 16 years old and a virgin no more. For many years afterwards she could not give herself to anyone, having been so brutally taken, and for awhile it seemed as if she would live out her life alone, without love. But love had found her, love in the form of the beautiful woman who waited upstairs while she would wreak havoc on those who had almost destroyed her. The girl slowly began to draw the blade from its sheath, the metal glinting softly in the dim light of the room. As the boys looked on, the figure in black before them withdrew a long sharp blade from its scabbard. The blade seemed to glow in the darkness, catching what little light there was and reflecting it back to their eyes, which were now wide open with terror. Even with their heads tilted back to ease the flow of water into their bellies, they could still see the figure before them, now holding a long thin blade in her hands. They could tell it was a ‘her’ now, because she spoke for the first time. In the darkness, they couldn't be sure before. “So, how are we feeling tonight?”, she asked. “Oh, don’t bother to try and answer, I know you can’t.” She smiled through her mask, although the boys couldn’t see. “You boys have always been party animals, up for fun and games. I hope you’ll enjoy my game this time, since you made me play yours ten years ago ’ Although they had no idea what to expect, they all had a sinking feeling that whatever was coming, it wasn’t going to be fun; at least, not for them. But they were powerless to prevent it happening. (to be continued) Please comment, i'd love some feedback on this one !
  17. “Sit,” Lea commands, pointing to the office chair in the corner of their shared living room. Jamie sits like a good puppet. “Good boy, now quit squirming.” Lea loves this feeling, of utter control. Jamie’s dressed in the tightest jeans Lea could find. Being hers’ they are about one size too small for him. They squeeze his abdomen just tight enough that you can see his bladder bulge over the top. Soon enough they would be soaked though, and the contents of that beautiful bulge would be all over those skinny jeans. “What did I say about squirming?” Lea demands. Jamie grabs at his crotch with both hands, planting both feet on the floor firmly. A wet patch appears on the light blue jeans. Lea smirks to herself, but hardens her face and says, “bad puppet, big boys don’t wet their pants.” Jamie looks at her sheepishly, in his weakest voice says “please mistress, won’t you let me go to the bathroom?” “No, you lost that privilege when I caught you parading around in your birthday present. Now how do those briefs feel? They’re not much of a birthday present when they’re wet and plastered to your d*ck are they?” Jamie struggles in his seat to keep the pee in. He wish he didn’t know what would happen if did wet himself fully, but he does, and he’s going to experience it soon if he can’t stop the flow. Lea sees the look on his face and knows the flood gates have opened. Only a moment later she sees the glistening pee soak through his light blue jeans. It flows down his calves and onto the linoleum. “My, you’ve made a mess, now, haven’t you, puppet. You’ll have to clean that up, or else.” Lea glared at him. Jamie finishes emptying his bladder in his pants and finally gets up to retrieve some towels from the hall closet. When he returns Lea is wearing only her panties, and is rubbing herself hard. Jamie hides behind the hall wall watching Lea play with herself. She rocks her hips and quietly moans. He can feel himself grow, hiding behind his towels. Lea spots him and stops, standing. “What are you doing puppet?” She says forcefully. “You should be cleaning up your mess!” She points at his puddle, and Jamie sulks toward it, forgetting what he was hiding behind the towels. Lea spots his manhood poking at the material of her jeans and clucks her tongue. “Oh puppet, that’s not part of your punishment, but now it will be… Now we’ll have to have a little game.” Jamie cleans up his mess and tries his hardest to get his hardon down, but it’s no use. He cannot get the thought of Lea’s arousal out of his mind, her fingers sliding over her damp panties. Lea grabs Jamie’s arm and drags him to the bedroom. Still fully clothed and soaked, he lies like a good puppet. She straddles him on the bed and says “If you come you have to wear your soiled clothes for the rest of the night.” Rocking her hips makes him whimper. He tries his hardest to think of anything but what is happening, but he won’t last long if she keeps this up. She pulls him into an intense kiss and continues to rock her hips over his wet pants. Upright again she leans back and bites her lip, allowing him to see her damp panties. There is no way he will make it out of this little competition, so he might as well enjoy himself. He rocks his hips into hers feeling his muscles contract and a different warm fluid damp his new briefs. Lea smirks to herself and continues rubbing herself on his damp leg, moaning. She feels her own muscles contract and her panties damp even more. She collapses on the bed next to Jamie, snoring softly.
  18. I had quite a weekend. It's possible you remember seeing me talk about my girlfriend (previously "my new girlfriend," but 8 months in maybe she's not new anymore?). As usual we'll call her J. She's a nurse with a giant bladder and basically no issues with bodily fluids. She's also kinky herself and enjoys being tied up, dominated, and humiliated. Despite her submissive tendencies she's been getting impressively better at dominating me when I have to go. I'm a "switch" I suppose, in that I love being the Dom right up until I'm desperate to pee, at which point I really like being told what to do. At any rate, I had to spend Friday night at home without her last week, but as night fell I found myself having to pee pretty badly, so I ended up chatting with J late into the night. She started by just asking questions from time to time about how much I had to go, and as I gradually became more desperate she started ordering me to drink. When I started leaking she would order me to drink 100ml each time. And when I finally couldn't hold it anymore, she allowed me to empty my bladder but then forced me to drink even more to make up for it. After several rounds of accidents I was leaky and my bladder filled fast even after a significant accident. Before she signed off for the night she asked how badly I had to go, and I told her I was getting desperate again. She said, "well, too bad you aren't allowed to pee until tomorrow morning then." I warned her I'd be showing up at her place the next day desperate and leaky. I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, having to go so badly. But it turned out it was late enough, and maybe I'd had just enough beer (I was buzzed but not drunk) that I fell asleep almost right away. I woke up about two hours later, a little before 5am, so desperate that getting my pajamas on and getting down the hall to the bathroom felt impossible. Fortunately I had a 2L bottle in my room, and I stood with it between my legs and emptied myself into it. After I was done I drank another glass of water. It wasn't until I got back to bed that I realized I had wet it. I'd clearly been lying on my back when I did it, because there was a wet patch on the covers where my crotch was, and then a fairly large puddle in the sheets under my butt. I couldn't believe it. This marks I think the fourth time it's ever happened to me, and the only time when I wasn't quite drunk. I lay there in the wet patch and felt humiliated and extremely turned on. Eventually I fell back asleep, and woke up again maybe an hour later, desperate as hell again. I knew I should get up, but some naughty voice in my head said, go on, it's already wet. So I let myself pee the bed again. I sleep naked, so the pee spread freely on the front of my hips and belly before trickling around and spreading under me. I didn't want to ruin my mattress, so I stopped it before it go too bad, but by this point the puddle was over half the width of the queen sized bed, and the wet spot on the covers could be felt on the outside of the blanket. Over the rest of the night I woke up frequently, peed a little into the bed, and then drifted off again. Finally, as the sun was coming up, I masturbated in my soaked sheets, got up and emptied my bladder into the bottle again, and curled up on the edge of the bed where it was still dry. I awoke after noon. The wet patch in the bed had miraculously dried in the hours since I'd last woken up. I was terribly desperate, and seemed to have very little control, Fortunately my roommates weren't around to see me doing the pee dance and leaking all over myself while I made breakfast. I downed some gatorade, but also tea, along with my breakfast. I heard from J partway through breakfast, and she began encouraging me to drink more tea. I don't need to go through everything that happened at my place that afternoon, but I'll say I was desperate for several hours, having little leaks and spurts most off the time, and one full-on accident. Finally in mid afternoon, my bladder completely full once again, I changed into dry black pants and set off to go to J's apartment. I was fairly confident they wouldn't be dry by the time I got there. It's not a terribly long subway ride, but I was already getting wet before I even boarded. In particular, stopping for traffic lights on my way to the train was deadly, as was the elevator down to the platform, standing on the platform waiting for the train, standing on the train (my bladder was too full and pants too tight to sit down), and then stopping for traffic lights walking from the train to J's building. I marched past the doorman, and made it to the elevator. Once on the elevator, I really started to lose control. I had a steady, though light, stream start as the doors were closing, and continuing despite my squirming efforts to stop it as I crossed the hallway to her door, unlocked it, and walked in to find J in the shower. I desperately removed my coat and shoes, and went into the bathroom. J casually asked how I was. She peeked out from behind the shower curtain and saw me dancing around in my socks. "Do you want to pee now?" she asked, and I nodded vigorously. But she said, "too bad." But permission or not, my bladder was emptying then. She watched approvingly as piss soaked my crotch again, trickled down my legs, and made a puddle on the bathroom floor. I had zero control. Finally I reached a point where I could stop the flow, and I stripped and hopped into the shower with her. By the time the shower was over, though, I was desperate again, if not leaking yet. I had to bounce around while I waited for her to fix her hair and do her skin care. At some point I went to the bedroom and put plastic and a towel down on the bed, just in case. My preparation was rewarded when she came out of the bathroom naked as the day is long, and lay luxuriously on the towel I'd set down. I stood there squirming and watching her. "You have to fuck me before you can pee again. Not one drop." The truth is I was so desperate and my muscles were so tired that I had a difficult time getting really hard. But she massaged my cock, and when I told her I had wet the bed the night before, she whispered about how shameful that was, and my cock came to life enough for me to roll a condom on and slide inside her. She kept saying I wasn't allowed to pee yet, not one drop. But at some point the way her pubic bone was hitting my bladder made it impossible for me to hold on. "I'm sorry" I whimpered, and she gasped as she felt piss fill the condom a spurt at a time. She spanked me as I fucked her, and told me all the ways she would punish me, and I kept saying I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. The condom was getting too full of piss, and I was having a hard time coming what with being in the process of having an accident and all. I pulled out and tied off the condom, and then we switched places, me lying on the towel and her kneeling over me stroking my penis. She started casually massaging my bladder as well. It became clear pretty quickly that my muscles were so weak that she could squeeze pee out of my like I was a tube of toothpaste. She kept humiliating me, "I can't believe you wet the bed, and then you pissed inside me, shame on you," and I was moaning, "yes, punish me, punish me." She squeezed pee out of me, in a trickle at first, and then leaning on my bladder with all her weight until I was spraying pee in long arcs onto myself and the bed. I was terribly turned on, but still unable to come, so she ordered me to go pee to relieve the pressure. When I came back from the toilet she ordered me to pleasure her, so i went down on her until she came. By then, though still desperate, I had recovered enough to get fully erect, and I fucked her again and finally came. It was glorious. Lying together afterwards, I asked her to make me use my pants as a toilet whenever it struck her fancy, and she agreed she would do that from time to time (I'll be sure to keep you all updated when it happens). Every time I have wet sex with J, I keep thinking this time is the best I've ever had. I've never been so leaky and out of control while having sex before, and that combined with the humiliation of having wet the bed the night before, made this an incredible experience. I hope you all enjoyed it a bit too!
  19. Alright Diaper Lovers of Omorashi, I need some opinions. A lot of AB/DL's know what the terms "daddy", "little", "babygirl", "ddlg", etc. mean. It is a fairly commom fetish/lifestyle, especially among the AB/DL community. For those of you who don't know, and to save a quick Google search, a DDLG relationship is a form of BDSM where one person, (in this case, a male) would be the dominant and act as a "daddy" figure. The second person (either male or female) would be submissive and act as the "little". One person is the caregiver who looks after and takes care of the little, who regresses to a younger age. Now, DDLG may or may not involve diapers. When it does, it can also be referred to as DDBG, or daddy dom/baby girl. This is because the submissive person regresses to not just a young child age, but goes further to a baby-like stage, obviously. If any of you have a Tumblr account and actively follow AB/DL accounts, chances are you've seen dozens of blogs by a daddy, little girl, or both. In the cases where diapers are involved, the little wears diapers while the daddy supplies her with them, changes her, and encourages her to wear them. Seldom, though, will you see the dominant wear diapers too. And I get why. It may take away from the dominant daddy feeling. However... I like to see myself as a Daddy dom. I've have a number of relationships where my girlfriend and I have played out the DDLG lifestyle, and each time I introduced diapers into it. I would diaper my little, BUT, I would also wear diapers myself, because I am also a DL. I never thought anything of it. But a few months back, on another site specially tailored to DDLG's, I saw heated argument take place. There was another daddy dom, that diapered his little, but also ler her diaper him. He shared some pictures and told of the experience. For whatever reason, he was receiving a lot of heat. Various other DD's on the forum, and even some littles, were bashing him, basically telling him he was "doing it wrong" and going against some sort of imaginary rules. They attacked him, called him names such as "disgusting" and "disgrace to the community" (really?) all because he was diapered and called himself a daddy. Of course, not EVERYONE was evil, but even the cool-headed, logical ones seemed to be against him, suggesting he not wear diapers and linking him to a "guideline for daddies". I was so infuriated with this, and I was quick to defend. I just received more of the same heat he was getting, so I stopped. I left the site and never looked back. I didn't let it bother me for long, because why should I care what random people on the internet think of my private life? However, as I was browsing my tumblr, I saw a very similar thing happen and my frustration returned. I felt I had to get this off my chest and see what the big beef is about this. So, for those of you who are in a DDLG relationship, or know about them.... Do you consider it wrong for the daddy dom to wear diapers too? Is it really that big of a deal? Is there something morally wrong with this that I'm just not getting? In a community that's so "different" and accepting and unique, I was utterly appauled at the behavior I saw toward something so small and, to be frank, pointless. So if you've made it through all of that... Please share opinions!
  20. Jamie doesn’t know what to think, he hasn’t been punished in a whole week. He doesn’t like having to take charge of himself. He likes it better when Lea is home and tells him exactly what to do and when to do it. He was not built for independence. At least Lea will be home soon. He leaves for the airport to pick up his mistress. Lea’s been on the plane for at least four hours and for the same amount of time she has refused to leave her seat. She can feel the pressure building in her abdomen. She’d give anything to be off this wretched flight and in her own bathroom. She hates small spaces, but there’s no other way to get from Seattle to New York in less than a day. She crosses her legs, pulling her skirt back over her knees. God she hates skirts even more than she hates this damn plane. Business travel is the worst. Jamie can’t stand the droning boredom that comes with driving. He lets his mind wander to the fun he’ll have once Lea returns. He parks the car and wanders to baggage claim to wait for his love. He’s an hour early, but anywhere is better than home alone. He longs for her touch. He misses her demands, always knowing exactly what will make him squirm. He can’t wait for her to regain control over him. Lea squirms in her seat, fastening her seatbelt for landing. Soon enough she will be home. The airplane lands and soon enough people are let off. Lea grabs her carryon bag and walks up the isle toward the door. Now that she has walking to focus on she lets her mind wander to the fun she could have with her puppet when they get home. Jamie spots Lea in the crowd and stands to rush toward her. He can see the stress melt from her face when she sees him. She grabs her bag from the conveyer and wanders toward her Jamie. She sets down her bags and embraces him. Just then she feels a twinge in her bladder causing her to let go and bend over, crossing her legs hard. She can feel a damp patch form in her panties. After regaining control she fast walks to the car, dragging Jamie along. He feels at home already. She shoves her bags in the trunk and hops in the driver’s seat, barely letting Jamie close his door before speeding onto the freeway. They are home in less than ten minutes. Lea can feel herself slowly losing control. She parks and hops out, telling Jamie to grab her bags. She stands very still waiting for him. They run up the stairs, Lea’s bladder aching. The second she gets inside she tosses her shoes in the closet and removes her skirt and stockings to reveal very damp cotton panties. She hurriedly puts on a pair of jeans and feels a spurt of warm pee immediately escape into her panties. Jamie reaches their bedroom finally and Lea commands him to lay on their bed. He does as she says, knowing the fun that is about to be released upon him. Lea hops on the bed and straddles Jamie between her increasingly damp jeans. She can finally let go. Hot pee rushes from her, spreading over her thighs down onto Jamie’s abdomen. She can feel his manhood poking through his now damp jeans. She rocks her hips, feeling extraordinary relief as the pee continues rushing out of her body. She leans down and kisses Jamie hard, trailing her lips down his neck. He pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans, then removes her own shirt. She rock her hips, unable to control her lust. *implied scene* They collapse on the bed and sleep. She wakes up first, shivering in the cold wet sheets. She shakes Jamie awake and says “Jamie clean up,” getting up from their soiled sheets and grabbing her damp clothes from the floor, dropping them in the laundry basket. She hops in the shower to warm up. Jamie feels a familiar twinge in his bladder as he changes his jeans and he gathers their soiled sheets to do a load of laundry. He’s already changed once today, hopefully Lea doesn’t notice if he uses the toilet. He sneaks into their shared bathroom just as Lea opens the shower door. Damn. “What are you doing puppet? You can use the bathroom when I tell you to. Now get out of here so I can dry off in peace.” Jamie does as he is told and sulks back to the livingroom. Lea puts on some comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. She catches Jamie in the livingroom holding his crotch, leaving a smirk on her face. “Oh does puppet need to pee?” She purrs. She hand him a beer and tells him to drink up. She watches has he drinks grimacing. He won’t last long after having a diuretic like that. About an hour passes and nothing eventful happens while they watch some television. Eventually though Jamie starts squirming more and more. Lea commands that he sit still so he tries his hardest, but not even her demand can keep his bladder from aching. “To your corner puppet” Lea says. Jamie stands, causing a large spurt of pee to escape into his jeans. His hands dart to his crotch and grab hard at his wee hole. He still inches his way to the corner. Lea stands and saunters over with him. Jamie starts to sit, so Lea says “No, you may not sit.” Jamie whimpers and say “please mistress, I can’t hold it much longer, could I please at least sit?” Lea ignores his request, too enticed by the damp patch she spies on his jeans. “You’ve been a bad boy puppet, you got your pants wet. For that you have stand like a little toy soldier. Hands to your side, feet pointed out.” That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, removing his hands from his crotch the pee flows freely, soaking his jeans. He stands as he is told, but can’t help but tilt his head to the sky in relief. Lea watches as his pants glisten with pee. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear those pants all afternoon, as you forgot to start the laundry,” Lea says, sauntering to their bedroom to grab some towels to throw at Jamie. “Clean up your mess and bring a towel to sit on while we watch a movie,” Lea says heading to the livingroom to find a terrible horror movie for them to watch.
  21. Usually, when I play with desperation and wetting, I do it after finding that my bladder is rather full or after choosing to fill it, such as being forced to drink a lot of fluids. And usually, when I play with someone who orders me around and forces me to hold it, they're just a bit too nice. They let me go after a bit of begging and a few leaks. I don't mind, I mean, I'm dancing around and incredibly desperate and eager to empty my bladder. So I do! But this time was different. First, when I play, I try to find a friend over text or via Skype or something. If I can't get in touch with a friend, I try to get anyone's attention on here. But if I really want to play and I'm getting nothing back, I'll go onto Omegle. And in this instance, that's what I did. I typed in the key word interests and proceeded my hunt for someone who would torture me ruthlessly. At the start, I would say my desperation was probably about an 8. I was wearing some really tight light jeans. My legs were crossed hard already, I couldn't ignore the pressure of my full bladder. I chatted with a few random people, described my desperation to them, teased them with it. The waves of pressure started hitting me and I found myself starting to squirm a bit. No one was really torturing me just yet, just some chatting fun at that moment. One person made my dribble just one second, just to make my pussy damp. It didn't soak into my jeans or anything yet. But it made my bladder throb incredibly hard. I had to clench and tense hard to prevent any further leaking. By the time I finally found someone who was a strict enough Master, I had to keep my legs crossed and I was squirming far more frequently. I didn't think I was truly desperate as I could be, I mean I've been worse off before. He asked a lot of questions, mainly about my appearance, what I liked, and I answered them all. I was excited, glad to finally find someone terribly strict and straight forward. I loved it. His first order was for me to press on my bladder periodically with my hand, short and extremely hard thrusts. It hurt badly to do, I kept my legs crossed tightly and my thighs tensed hard together. It made me squirm in my seat even more. But I was even more surprised at my bladder control. I knew if I relaxed, I would for sure leak. Yet, when I pressed on my bladder, nothing dire occurred. I could feel the immense pressure of my extremely swollen bladder. But, I still felt like I had control. He then made me take my hand and curl it into a fist, shove it into my jeans and press on the bladder. The waist band of my pants kept my fist there, constantly pushing on that thing full of so much hot piss, so much. It made me moan and groan. I had to uncross my legs for this to work properly. It was hard, I was sitting forward and squirming so much. I had my poor pussy lips clenched hard. I couldn't stop panting and gasping as I began rocking back and forth. Then he did one of the worst things, he made me drink a cup of water. It made me whimper. I chugged the water down, my fist still pressing into my bladder. I informed him that I finished and he replied with saying I should turn my fist sideways, to create even worse pressure. Giving a gasp, I followed his order. Within minutes, I gave a hard spurt. It soaked through my underwear and made a spot on the crotch of my jeans. Telling me how dirty I was, he made me run my hand over my pussy under my pants and like my fingers, made me taste my dirtiness. I loved it, it was wonderful. I loved how badly he was treating me, how tortured and humiliated I felt. It made my clit throb and juices flow. Made me squirm harder, made my bladder ache even more. But he wasn't finished with me yet! He tortured me with more words, telling me all the things he would do and make me do. It made me hornier and more desperate. He ordered me to suck my fingers until they were dripping with my saliva and told me I had to shove them as deep as they would go up my ass, told me to fuck my ass. I asked him a question about the order, and he informed he that he didn't want to be made to repeat himself. It made my whimper and shiver, I loved his harshness. No one had been strict with me like that. And it was exactly what I wanted. I followed his order, sucked my fingers, and shoved them into my pants and up my ass. I had to stifle a moan and I shuddered. It took only a couple of minutes before I leaked twice, two little spurts. Pulling my fingers out of my ass, I gripped my crotch hard and told him about the leaks. My new Master of the night made a new order: I had to go refill my glass. I stood and gave a moan as all the fluid pushed forward against my urethra. I walked with my thighs pressed tightly together into the kitchen. Turning on the tap was even worse, it made be bend over and ram my hands into my crotch. I squirmed violently on the spot. Trying to hurry, one hand still in my crotch, I shoved the glass under the tap and filled it. But I wanted to wash my hand after ass fucking myself. Turning the water onto hot and pumping soap into my hands, I ran water over them. It was the worst moment, at that time. I squirmed and danced and scrubbed fast. I barely held it back. Turning to hobble back to the living room with my seat, I had to stop halfway to grip my crotch again and bend over. I sat down and immediately was squirming hard again, bouncing my legs and groaning with the rise of pressure. My desperation and risen violently, it just suddenly hit me, I could not sit still at all. But he wasn't finished with me yet and I didn't want to disappoint him. He told me I was to pour one third of the glass onto my chest. Not wanting to make a mess in the living room, I hobbled into the kitchen. I decided to bend over the sink, which turned out be a horrid idea as my jeans were pressed hard into my bladder. Gasping, I knew I had mere seconds to do this. So I poured the icy cold water over my chest. I have no idea how I managed, but I held it all back, I didn't even spurt. Sitting back down, I kept my hand in my crotch. He made me chug the rest of the water. Doing so caused a long hard spurt of pee to shoot out of me, full stream. It made my crotch completely soaked now, starting to go up around the ass of my tight jeans. I begged but he said no. I kept my hands in my crotch when I wasn't typing. At this point, I realized I had never been so desperate to piss in my entire life. I thought that previous occasions had warranted being considered unbearably desperate. But no, how wrong I was, I had no idea. This, this was real desperation. I was writhing in my seat, gripping my pee hole and gasping. He gave me another order, told me spit into my hand several times and then to rub my pussy so it would be covered in all my bodily fluids. I had to lick it. I felt so, so dirty, and I loved it. I was absolutely thrilled by it. I begged for release, to empty my bladder, but still he said no. It made me give a low sob. My bladder was absolutely throbbing with need, and I just wasn't allowed. He made me answer more questions and give descriptions of past events I had done. Told me what dirty boy I was, just how much of a slut I was. Made me admit that I would do almost anything involving piss. I said he could piss in all my holes, that if I had an owner I would never piss unless allowed, I told him dirty I was and just how much I loved it. Suddenly, another long and hard spurt exploded from my pussy. It dripped from between my fingers and soaked into the towel beneath my rocking ass. I was incredibly desperate, I can barely describe it. I was bouncing in my seat, rocking back and forth violently and gripping my crotch hard. Lifting my ass a bit, I gave a shiver and a longer spurt streamed out of me. I had to clench and tense everything, pressed so very hard on my pee hole to stop it. I told him all this, told him how the entire crotch of my jeans was soaked. How desperate I was. I begged, and so he told me I was to sit down and piss it all out into my jeans and the chair. But I couldn't it was a carpeted living room. He ordered it again, angrily this time. I gave a whimper and stood up from my seat, dancing and bouncing, twisting and holding my crotch with all my might. I said I would do it all over the kitchen floor, if he would please PLEASE just let me go. He said I could release on the condition that I told him just how much of a dirty little slut I was, and if I could convince him, I could go. I begged and begged. And I began. I told him: I'm such a dirty fucking slut, I love to be a whore for anyone, I would let anyone piss anywhere and in anywhere on my body, I'd piss myself in public, I would let them cum all over me. I begged and begged. And suddenly... He ended the chat. Horror tore through me, another long spurt slipped out, and I gave a moan. Had I not pleased him? No, I had! But this was his game! I wasn't given permission to let all that pee go yet. So I decided to hang on. I had no idea just how much time I had left. I had never been this desperate. Another long spurt escaped and I sat my ass down. That was an awful idea, within minutes, an even longer stream rushed out and completely soaked my ass. That was biggest leak I had ever made. Standing straight up again, piss was spilling from around my fingers gripping my pussy over my jeans. Another spurt, and then another. I was quickly losing this battle - but I had to hang on, I just had to. For his sake, I had to. But I was immediately beginning to realize this was impossible. Squirt after squirt, spurt after spurt of piss was leaking from me. And it didn't matter how much I tried, I just was losing this battle. My bladder was becoming too full, my urethra exhausted. Suddenly I felt it, pee was started to spill out in a constant stream. A slow stream, but I couldn't stop it. I could feel it running down my legs now. I hobbled, piss coming out no matter, into the kitchen. I threw the towel down and within seconds, the floodgates broke - against my own will. I legitimately couldn't stop it. At that point, I didn't care if someone came down and saw me there in the middle of the kitchen. I just didn't care. My bladder exploded and torrents of piss rushed down my legs, creating puddles at my feet. I tried to stop the flow, but I literally could not. It wasn't until there were huge puddles at my feet that I could finally stop it. I dashed upstairs to my room, stripped my pants and underwear off and went back to the kitchen. There I cleaned up my mess. As I cleaned, I realized my bladder was still swollen and that there was still so much piss in me. I groaned to hold it back when I squatted. When I finished cleaning, I put on some fresh underwear, sat down on the toilet and let my bladder completely burst, wetting through my underwear. It sent shivers and shudders through me of just pure pleasure. I relived the experience of the night over and over in those long moments that I pissed. There was so much of it. Taking them off, I remembered what a filthy whore I was and decided not to have a shower. I pulled on my pajamas and crawled into bed, remaining in my filth because I deserved it. Rubbing my clit hard, I came hard and bit into my lip to hold back my screams as my back arched upwards more than once. I writhed with the waves of my orgasm. Finally, I collapsed and sleep took me, with it, the dreams of my deepest fantasies of my bladder being truly controlled...
  22. I wrote this on the spur of the moment. I'll probably do some revision soon. Comments encouraged! ++++++++++++++++++++ She told me I'm too goody-goody in the bedroom. Most of the time she wants a gentleman but once in a blue moon she's in the mood for something else. "I want you to hurt and humiliate me and we'll have fun!" were her exact words. She elaborated with a list of things like dog collars and horse whips but my fantasies were headed in a different direction. I came up with a naughty plan but didn't tell her the whole thing at once. I said we'd carry on like it was a normal day but she had to follow my rules. She didn't know where things were going but she was ready to play along. I told her to change into something nice with a short skirt and we'd go out. "The first rule is you have to swallow anything I tell you to." I demonstrated by taking out a juice box and inserting the straw between her shapely smiling lips. "You can nullify this and all other rules by telling me the safeword," I added as she sucked on fruit juice. She took the straw out of her mouth long enough to ask one question. "Do you pick it or do I?" She choked with laughter when I said the safeword was "burst." We needed groceries so that was the first thing we did. I promised her things would get more interesting. She was perky and optimistic. When we carried the bags to the car I made her stop to perform a favor. I took a water bottle out of the plastic and pointed it at her mouth. "Swallow." She looked annoyed but unscrewed the cap and started drinking. "Faster!" I said. I got a kick out of watching the muscles in her neck work as she glugged it down. When she finished she was struck with a look of embarrassment. Some people were staring at us. "Another!" I commanded. I was gonna make sure more people stared. "Drink this one like you're dying of thirst." I took off the cap and physically stuck the neck of the bottle into her face. She drew back a bit then eagerly wrapped her lips around the plastic. She made exaggerated sounds of quenched thirst as she drank the water so quickly and sloppily that some of it ran down her neck and made her top wet. "Good girl!" We continued to the van. At home she started walking to the bathroom before the groceries were put away. I grabbed her wrist. "Uh-uh-uh!" I scolded. "That's the second rule. No going to the bathroom without asking me for permission." "Can I have permission?" "Not yet." After we'd put away the groceries she asked again. "No," I answered again. "How do I get permission?" "You'll find out." She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss. "Good girl! You can't go to the bathroom though." Her enthusiasm was waning but she perked up again when I said we should go on a romantic picnic. She wasn't hungry yet so I suggested we take a long walk to work up an appetite. I used the bathroom before we left. She just stood outside the door with her arms crossed. We selected a picnic site and packed everything up and took to the bike trail. I spotted the bathrooms before she did. "I know what you want," I said and I motioned to the silhouette of the woman in the dress. "Yes I want it," she said. "Do you really need to?" "I do." "Then you need to ask." "Can I go to the bathroom?" "That's poor grammar." "May I go to the bathroom?" "Still not right." "May I please have permission to go to the bathroom?" "No." I had something else in mind. I took hold of her hand and led her to the drinking fountain. She started to struggle when she noticed where we were headed. "You have to swallow," I reminded. "Really?" "That's the rule. If you're sick of funny rules you know what to say." "No I won't use the safeword. I want to see how this plays out even if it's no good." Once she relented I was able to bend her knees and press her head down to where her mouth could receive the stream of water. I turned the knob and made sure she got a nice long drink. "People are looking," she whispered accusingly when I released her. She used her wrist to wipe away the water that was running down her chin. "They think you're hurting me or something." "Then explain it," I whispered back. "Try to sound frisky." "Don't mind us," she said to the elderly couple who were walking by. "We're just playing." "That was nice," I said. "You got the flirtatious sound without laying the sexiness on too thick." "Now may I have permission?" "Not yet." Before long we were at the picnic spot. We were both pretty hungry by then but she had a more urgent need. I could tell by the way she was skipping and hopping around as we set down the blanket and got the food ready. "What do I have to do to go to the bathroom?" "I'll tell you later. Try not to ask so often." "It's hard not to!" "Don't get testy." We sat on the blanket. She fidgeted a little but got comfortable and seemed to forget her need. We had a nice dinner and didn't talk about bathrooms. I was sure to remind her before we packed up. "Do you want more to drink?" "No." "But you'll drink it anyway. Watch while I pour." She snapped her legs together and shuddered as she watched the thin stream of yellow liquid slowly flow into the clear plastic cup. "Those are such nice liquid sounds," I teased. "Wouldn't it be great to hear that happening under you while that shapely bottom of yours was perched on the comfortable horseshoe seat of a public toilet?" "What do you want me to do?" she asked in a desperate tone. "I'll do anything. Not literally anything but..." she trailed off as she shifted into a different sitting position. "I won't let you use the bathroom here but you may use the one at home." "That's a long walk," she complained as she uneasily stood up. "What's the matter? Think you'll have an accident?" "No." "Did you already have an accident?" "No!" "Why don't I check?" I only brushed her leg but she jerked away forcefully. "No!" she repeated in a more playful way. "I bet the seat of your panties is all wet." "No!" "Then show me." We ran around a bit and once more attracted attention to ourselves. I brought the chase to a stop by saying "I can make you drink the rest of the lemonade." "No! There's most of a liter bottle left!" "Show me your panties or I'll make you swallow every drop." She spun around and flipped up her skirt and her white cotton underwear caught the bright summer sunlight. "See?" When the skirt fell and she stood up straight again she noticed a woman with two little kids was looking at us wide-eyed. "Sorry! I got a little too frisky." "Good girl!" I said to my red-faced sweetheart. "This is no good!" she said in a not so frisky voice as we were walking back home. "What did you want?" "Something kinky." "That's what this is." "This isn't what I asked for." "You asked me to hurt you." "Yes!" "Well doesn't it hurt?" I asked as I motioned to her crotch. "Yes but that's not it." "You also asked me to humiliate you." "Exactly!" "But aren't you humiliated? You've made a few scenes in public." "Yes but it's not kinky." "I think it is. I'll tell you one thing I'm having fun." That was about when we passed the other set of bathrooms. "What do I have to do to go to the bathroom? Flash my panties again?" "No." "If we go over into the woods I'll flash my breasts." "I still won't let you use that bathroom." "I'll flash everything! I'll take off my panties. I'll bend over a tree trunk. You can go to town! Just please let my go to the bathroom!" She accentuated the end of the sentence by stamping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. It was a natural motion because her legs had been jumping and dancing around a lot lately. "You'll use the bathroom at home." "That's such a long way to walk!" "We'll take a shortcut." The shortcut took us to a babbling brook. "You jerk! You're doing this on purpose!" "Of course." "Where's the bridge?" "We can step over this creek." "You've gotta be kidding me!" "Just a hop." "I don't think I can do it." Her legs were plastered together and she was rocking from side to side. "Then I know what to do." I put the bags down and walked to her. "What are..." she stopped saying words and let out a shrill squeal instead as I hoisted her up off the ground. "Are you all right?" I asked the woman in my arms. "Yes." "Still dry?" "Yes! Just carry me across the creek already!" I did and then I crossed over again and back for the bags. She had her hands over her ears. "Can't stand the sound of flowing water?" I asked as I took her hands by the wrists. "You're touching me so much today," she said. I was starting to feel like I'd gone too far but then she took my hands and pulled me close to her. "Don't stop." I could feel her squirm uncomfortably as we hugged. "It's not that far to get home," I said. "I'll race you! We'll each take one bag and if you get home before me the rules are all null and void." "If you get home before me?" "Then you'll need permission to enter the house." She didn't stop to think about it. She just ran. I've never seen those legs work so hard. But my legs are longer and stronger. I was waiting on the back porch as she trotted up panting and shaking. "You must be parched. Have some more lemonade." She didn't fight it but she wouldn't put her hands on the bottle. I fed her like a baby as she laid on her side. "That's enough," she said after swallowing about a quart and standing up. "No it's not!" I grabbed her around the waist and made her sit on my lap on the steps. "If I have an accident it's gonna go on you," she pointed out. "That's a risk I'm willing to take," I said as I inserted the neck of the bottle into her mouth. This time she was the one who noticed we were being watched. As I lowered the empty bottle she hollered "We're just being lovey-dovey!" to our neighbors across the street. "Good girl!" "May I use the bathroom in the house?" "Not yet." "How do I earn permission?" "Keep being lovey-dovey." I sat on the porch swing and invited her to take a seat next to me. She sat down and leaned over and practically melted to my body. She kissed me all over my head and neck and ran her arms up and down my body. I've never seen (or felt) her so lively before. Her legs were kicking in the air. "Good girl!" I said when she slowed down and put one hand between her legs. "You have permission to enter the bathroom." She shrieked in delight. "You may use the toilet once you perform one final act." "No! What? Oh whatever let's just go inside." She ran in place as I took out my keys and unlocked the door. She ran to the bathroom and waited inside. She had an urgent look in her eyes as she stared at the toilet without a word. "What do I have to do?" she asked as I came in with some old towels. I covered the floor in case of an accident. "You can use the toilet after I do." "That's all?" "But you have to watch. Get down on your hands and knees. There's a good girl." She was on one side of the toilet staring at the bowl she desperately wished she was on top of. I stood on the other side. I felt a little silly about what I'd planned but I still followed through. I unzipped my fly and opened the seam in my boxers. The look on her face when I pulled out my manhood assuaged my embarrassment. "I've gone too long without seeing that," she said. "The toilet?" I asked with a smile. "I meant your penis but that's true too." She changed her position so she was sitting with her legs crossed and both her hands pressed between her thighs. "I've got a feeling between my legs that's killing me and I don't know how much of that is one thing and how much is the other." "Good girl!" "I'm not just saying that you know." "Get back in your stance. Your legs have to be apart and your hands have to be on the floor." She obeyed. "Good girl," I said again as I began relieving myself. I'd had a long wait too. I didn't mean to make a sound but I exhaled loudly as the pressure in my bladder dropped. I heard other sounds that weren't coming from me. My lover squeaked and then whimpered softly. Those sad longing eyes were focused on the jet of liquid I was emitting with such pleasure. It hissed against the side of the bowl and made deep rumbling liquid noises as it turned the water yellow and foamy. I managed to stop moaning but she started. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she let out this long pained sound. All four of her limbs trembled. My stream kept going strong. She had a while to wait. "You can always say it" I reminded. "I've waited too long to quit," she said in a voice somewhere between a sob and a whimper. "Keep going." I did and boy did it feel good. It was just winding down when she made me jump. "It's coming out!" she screamed. There were a few drops on the towel below. I was so startled I lost control of my direction and made some drops of my own. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. "Good girl! Still in position." My bladder had attained a comfortable feeling of near-emptiness so I cut off my stream. "You're such a good girl you have permission to pee in the toilet!" Before the sentence was over she was sliding her panties down her thighs. There was a dark yellow spot shaped like a figure eight but the rest of the cotton was white and dry. I offered my hand and she took it. I pulled her off the floor as she glued her thighs back together and thrust her other hand in for good measure. A golden drop was hanging off one of her knees at the end of a long liquid trail. More spots had appeared on the towel and new ones were showing up by the second. When she neared a standing position I saw two more drops slide down from behind her hand. The flesh was white she was applying so much pressure but something was still leaking through. Between her efforts and mine we managed to get that pert little bottom of hers onto the toilet seat. I put my penis away and zipped up. She moaned again and the volume and feeling were now multiplied by ten. But even the pleasureful sounds coming out of her lungs couldn't muffle the liquid sounds coming out of her bladder. She went at that toilet bowl like a sandblaster. The hissing was intense. So was the roar of the urine rushing into the toilet water. It was like the rapids of a wild river. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She had an expression of utter pleasure that I've never seen on her face. Not in such good lighting at least. Once her moaning abated she opened her eyes and noticed the extreme interest I was taking in her body and the liquid flowing from it. She spread her legs wide and scooted back so I could take in the view. I've fired urine off that forcefully a few times in my life but I never thought I'd see that kind of pressure from a woman. It was like a raging golden waterfall. "Oh God! I thought my bladder was going to burst inside me!" she said as her stream slowed. I was staring at our combined output. I've never seen toilet water so yellow. "Thanks for not saying 'burst' before we were done. I'm sorry I made you suffer for my gratification." "Are you kidding? I loved every minute!" "That's impossible!" "I was acting...to some extent. Thanks for the lovely day." "It was a lovely day," I concurred. "It'll be a lovely night too if you're in the mood."
  23. I swear, I will get back to writing the story I have ongoing (En Aukidi). And I will get back to writing pure omo stories at some point. In the meantime, perhaps some of you will enjoy this. Wayward GirlThe car rolls smoothly up the driveway and stops. When she grabs for the seat belt, he puts his hand firmly over hers. She lets go and turns her youthful face to him, uncertain. “Did you go before we left?” He says. He shouldn't have to ask. She's old enough, but still he needs to be sure.She shakes her head. “I didn't have to...” She begins.He gives her the look. The one that says she better listen. “Then I think you should go first thing once we've done the introductions.”She bites her lip. It's something she does when she's unsure if she can get away with being sassy. “I told you, I don't need to...”“Will you do it, for me?” His tone is milder now. “I don't want to worry about you all evening.”She sighs, resigned. “I'm not a child, you know,” she says.“I know, sweetie. I know.” He lets his hand linger on hers, then he exits the car, and before she has time to do anything else, he's opened the car door for her, unbuckled her seat belt, and stretched out his hand for her to take.“That's very gentlemanly of you,” she says as he helps her out of the car.“You know me.”She looks a little nervous, tapping her foot. “You think they'll like me?” Her voice cracks. He knows she gets nervous like this. It's one of the paradoxes that so fascinate him: how she can be so brazen and sassy, and yet to so insecure and nervous at the same time. That's what it's like to be young, he supposes. He grabs her hand firmly, and together they walk to the door.She rings the bell, and they can hear some commotion inside. Soft, easy-listening music is faintly heard through the window. Then the door opens. Two smiling faces, him bearded and in his thirties, her slightly younger, dressed in a tight-fitting red dress.“Mark!” The woman in the dress says. “So good to see you! And you must be Casey!” She moves in for a hug. Casey appears startled at first, but her shoulders relax into the hug. “Ooh, I like your perfume,” says the woman. “You have to tell me what brand it is.”“Don't stand there in the cold,” says the man. “Do come in.” He shakes Mark's hand.They move through a small entree into a spacious living room, with a shiny white sofa and an assortment of lit candles spread around the living room table and on a small round table in a corner. A fire is crackling in the fireplace, and through an open door they can see a dinner table set for four.“Casey, this is Amelia and Connor, good friends of mine,” Mark says.“Nice to meet you,” Casey says. She's so cute when she gets shy. Mark has grabbed her hand again, and now he gives her a squeeze. A gentle reminder of their agreement. But Casey seems too shy to speak up.“Say, Amelia, would you show Casey the bathroom?” Mark says. Casey blushes deeply, but Amelia, ever chipper, loops her arm around Casey's and leads her down a hallway. Mark breathes a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. Now he doesn't need to worry about that for the rest of the night.Dinner is steak, with red on the side. Once she's had her first glass, Casey's back in control, laughing, telling stories. All she needs is a little push, he thinks, and she's back in her element.“So tell me all about it!” Amelia says. “How did you two meet?”“We met in a bar, actually,” Mark says. “We hit it off straight away. Everything's gone kind of fast. This one's a little impulsive,” he says, nudging his girlfriend.“I envy you,” Connor says. “Remember when we used to go to on road trips just because?”Amelia shrugs. “I remember quite a few mishaps along the way, too,” she says. “I think some people are just made to settle down.”“Oh, I think everyone's got a little adventure in them, young or old,” Casey says. She has that glint in her eye. “Would you pass me the wine?”Mark and Connor lapse into job talk, which frankly bores him—Casey's enthusiasm must have rubbed off on him. A year ago, he wouldn't mind talking shop with an old friend. But now, his thoughts wander. Mergers and office politics seem so… pedestrian. Life with Casey has corrupted him. Sometimes he wonders whether it's himself or her he needs to be protective of.By the time the evening's drawing to a close, Casey is well and truly drunk. Mark is driving, so he only had a little sip. As they're saying their goodbyes, he glances over at Casey. She doesn't notice. His girlfriend doesn't make a pit stop before they leave. He wonders if he should say something, but she's a big girl. He did make her go when they arrived.“Wow!” Casey says as they pull onto the road. “Your friends are really nice. Amelia is so classy. I think they liked me. Do you think they liked me?”He glances over. Her eyes are a little glazed over, the classic drunk look, but she appears awake and coherent. And happy. “Of course they did, love.”She crosses her legs and fishes her phone out of her purse. They don't speak much on the way home. Casey bounces her legs. He pretends not to notice, but he knows what that means. Mark takes a chance and pushes a bit past the speed limit. Familiar houses start appearing, and then they're home.Casey bounces out of her seat and runs to the front door. She scrambles through her purse, a little panicked. Mark whistles at her and waves his keys in the air.“Goddammit,” Casey says.“Now, now,” Mark says. He's at the door now. “You can wait one minute, can't you, dear?”Casey is wearing her finest black dress, but right now it's all bunched up between her crossed legs.“Will you just unlock it already?” She says. She's clearly annoyed. Once the key is in the door, she sprints in, not even bothering to kick off her shoes. He'll have to remind her of that.Mark takes his time undressing, then reclines down into a chair. He has a perfect view down the hallway. She can't avoid him when she comes out.Five minutes pass, then five more. Finally, Casey peers out the door. She seems startled to see him watching her.“Come over here a second, baby,” he says.“I was just gonna slip on something...”“Later, baby. Just come over here for me real quick.”Her steps are uncertain. She keeps her gaze at the floor. Mark opens his arms and motions for her to sit on his lap. She flinches, but does as he asks.“Now, I know you don't like this part, but I have to ask,” he says.The warmth of her bum on his lap is stirring something in him. He longs to lift her up and carry her to the bedroom, but this is important.“What?” She says.“Did you make it?”She turns away from him. He places his hand gently on her neck and turns her so that her eyes met his. She's blushing.“Oh for fuck's—not this again,” she says.He repeats his question, with emphasis on every word. “Sweetie. Did you make it?”Her gaze waivers. She can't look him in the eye. “Of course I did. No need to ask.”Mark slips a hand underneath her dress. She tenses up. “Mark, I told you—”He moves his hand along her thigh until he makes contact with wet fabric. Her entire posture slumps, defeated. “Young lady,” Mark says. “Is this what you call making it?”“It was only...” She can't seem to find the words.“Show me,” he commands. He lifts her off his lap and turns her around so she's facing him. “Show me.”A deep blush spreads across her cheeks. He can't help it. He shouldn't think like this, but she's unbearably cute like this, helpless and embarrassed.Casey slowly lifts up her dress. What she reveals is a pair of pantyhose clearly damp in the crotch. He moves to lower her pantyhose, and she follows his lead, staring straight at the floor. She lowers the pantyhose all the way down and steps out of them. Mark puts out a hand and touches her once pink panties. Now they're dark red and soaking.“I'm sorry,” she begins.Mark's pants couldn't possibly get tighter in the crotch. But he can't let himself get carried away. “Baby, we talked about this.”“I'm sorry, it was an accident.”“I'm not mad that you had an accident.”Her big, green eyes meet his. “You're not?”“I'm disappointed that you didn't even try. Why didn't you go before we left?”She's tearing up. He hates seeing her like this. It's all he can do not to give up on the whole strict routine and just hug her tightly. Clearly, she doesn't know how to respond.“I think you deliberately didn't go.”“I thought I could hold it. I really did! Look, most of it went in the toilet!”“Does that mean there's a puddle for me to clean up?”A tear escapes her, then a suppressed sob that turns into a sniffle. “Baby, we've got to get this under control. We're going to come to an agreement that both of us can be satisfied with. Okay?”She nods.This is enough for tonight, he thinks. He grabs hold of her and begins carrying his wet girlfriend toward the bedroom. She nestles in close to his shoulder. He has her strip out of the wet clothes, and then he fetches a towel from the bathroom. She tries to grab it, assumes it's for her. He shakes his head. “You're sleeping on this tonight.”“Mark, god, I'm not gonna piss the bed!”“That's final. Now, I think I know a girl who needs a good cuddle. Isn't that right?”He places the towel down, and her on top of it. She's a foot shorter than him and easy to handle. Mark lays down on the other side of the bed and starts playing with her hair. She places her head on his chest. He kisses her goodnight and turns out the lights. Tomorrow, he's going to figure out a solution to all this. Not tonight. Casey is nearly a decade younger than him, nineteen—soon to the twenty, she is keen to remind him—and a bit of a wild child. Legal in every sense of the word, but young at heart. They've been together for a year now. She pretty much unilaterally decided to move in with him, moving more and more of her stuff to his place until he finally got tired of pussyfooting around and gave her a key. The one she had forgotten last night, which might have been the cause of her latest mishap. Sometimes, Mark feels a bit guilty about being with her—as if he were taking advantage of a child. But then she'll surprise him by casually quoting Sartre like it's nothing, and reminds him that it's possible to be two things at once: a somewhat responsible, if messy adult, and also a child-like soul. He can't decide which part he loves more. Early on, though, he realized that as the older and more experienced of the two, it was his responsibility to, not raise her—hopefully her parents had done that job well enough—but certainly guide her into the world of adult responsibility.This latest little hick-up had begun last month. Casey does college part time; two days of the week, she works as Mark's assistant at his company, which is mostly a way for him to keep her busy. That, and perhaps give her some valuable work experience. He's not rich, but on occasion, a man has to spoil his princess. Casey had aced an exam, and he'd agreed to take her shopping. She was excited like a child before Christmas, and they'd spent hours wandering clothing stores. Casey had been sipping on one beverage or another the whole time—not that Mark really took note of it until later. Finally, five hours into their shopping trip, Mark had had enough. “One more store, that's where you get whatever you're gonna get,” he'd said. Casey merrily skipped into a high-end, expensive store, because of course she would.“Don't you think these would look cute on me?” She said, holding up a pair of jeans. Mark had nodded. Anything would look good on his girl, and frankly he was looking forward to ending this trip. Men and women have a different perception of time when it comes to shopping.They found the fitting rooms, but it was a busy day—Christmas season was just starting up—and there was a line. Casey looked increasingly impatient, tapping her feet, shifting her weight back and forth as the line progressed. Finally, there was an opening and she ran in with her jeans. Mark leaned back on a counter and waited. Surely she'd go for these ones and they'd be done for the day. He needed a beer after this ordeal.Then there was a little squeal from inside the fitting room, and a meek voice: “Mark...”Concerned, he ducked his head inside the curtains. Mark had not expected to find what he did. His girlfriend, squeezed into her expensive new designer jeans—with a very obvious wet spot between her legs, and mascara running down her face. “Mark, I—”A range of emotions flooded him. One, concern. Of course. But most of all—how could she? She was nineteen, a grown woman! Now he'd have to… “Not a word,” he said. That was the least impolite thing he could think of. “Put on the pants you came in and then come out.”A few moments later, she was out of the fitting room, back in her dry pants. He grabbed her hand firmly and began dragging her towards the nearest counter. “Mark, please, I—”“I don't want to hear another word from you until we're home.”He brushed past a middle-aged lady, leading his girlfriend like a child. “Excuse us, miss,” he said to the clerk. “My girlfriend had a little accident in the fitting room. We'd like to buy these.” He laid the stained jeans on the counter.The young girl working the counter looked surprised, but she quickly regained her composure and rang them up, then put the wet jeans in a shopping bag, making sure not to touch the soiled crotch. Mark paid the price—well above what he had expected to shell out today—and then he began dragging Casey towards the exits.“Mark...” She tried one more time. He put a finger to her lips. She looked petrified, and who could blame her?She didn't say anything on the way home. Not until they were nearly there, when she gasped loudly. Mark looked over in time to see a waterfall appear between her legs, quickly soaking into the seating, then pitter-pattering over the edge onto the floorboards. Casey began to sob. “I tried to tell you, I still needed to go!”He didn't have the heart to scold her. Instead, he took her to the shower, and then he went outside to scrub the car seat.That evening, he tried to get her to explain, but she would only say that it was an accident, that she didn't know what happened. Mark decided that being paraded around a mall carrying wet jeans was punishment enough. He certainly didn't expect it to happen again. It did. A couple of weeks later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Casey was sat half-dozing in front of the telly. Mark was headed to the shower. He called over, “Hey, hon, I'm taking a shower, you need the bathroom?” She had shook her head and turned back to her reality show.Once Mark reemerged from the bathroom, he almost bumped into her. She'd been standing right outside the bathroom, and a tell-tale trail of pee followed her down the hall, leading up her thighs to a very obviously wet pajama-crotch.This time, he was concerned. “Oh, baby,” he'd said. “You go have a shower. I'm gonna call and get you a doctor's appointment on Monday. Something's not right. You've probably caught a UTI or something.”She wouldn't look at him. Her voice was very, very little. “Mark, it's not that.”“It's not what?”“It's nothing medical.”Mark didn't know what to think. “What do you mean? You did this just to annoy me?”She sobbed. “No, no, please, I'm sorry. It's just… I never meant for this to happen. I just enjoy it. I enjoy… The feeling of a full bladder. I never meant for it to go in my pants.”Casey can be quite exhibitionistic. She loves to give him a peak at her underwear in places that aren't quite proper. He knew she had a kinky streak—and to be honest, so does he. He likes being in control. But he'd never expected this.“Go clean up. We'll talk about this later,” was all he managed. Since then, he'd taken care to remind her to go, however infantile it might seem to remind your grown girlfriend to go potty. Then came the dinner party and the wet ending, and that brought him to this. Today.Mark really wasn't sure if he could go through with it. It seemed wrong, somehow. And he knew there'd be a fight about it. No question. Casey would not let this slip quietly. But he had to do something. He wanted to let her explore her kinks, but he also didn't want her to further embarrass herself, or him. She'd been devastated by her accidents; clearly, it was the build-up that excited her, and her actual failure of control was a humiliating defeat. But Casey clearly wasn't as in control as she thought. When Mark considered it, she must have a rather a party bladder. Rarely did she excuse herself to the restroom, and in their year together, she had never once failed to get home dry. Not until this past month.With heavy steps, he carries his bags inside and sets them on the kitchen table. He had bought them. He had to do something. When it came down to it though, it was hard to find the courage.“Baby, come here,” he says. He knows she's home, somewhere. Casey leans around the corner, wearing only a loose top and some yoga pants.“What is it, Mark?” She asks.“Come sit down,” Mark says. Commands.She does as she's told.“Baby, you know I love you,” he begins.“Come on, please don't say that,” she says. “That sounds like the preamble to something horrible. You selling me off to a trafficker to pay off your drug debt or something?” She tries to make a joke of it, but it falls flat.“Baby, it's about your accidents.”Her face reddens.“I want us to be able to explore this thing of yours safely. No more tears. No more me worrying every time we go out. Okay? This is for us.”“What's for us?”Moment of truth. Mark opens one bag, then another. The first holds a pink package of pull-on absorbent underwear for teens. Casey's slim, he knows they'll fit. The other package is white and contains heavier-duty diapers, with the words “FOR NIGHT-TIME USE” prominently displayed on the package.Predictably, the mood in the room explodes. “You've got to be fucking kidding me!” Casey rises, ready to storm out of the room, but he grabs her arm and restrains her.“Young lady, sit down and hear me out.” She sits. Bites her lip. Considers whether another lashing-out will serve her well or not.“You like to hold it, right? You like the feeling? But you hate to wet yourself. You hate the humiliation, you hate me scolding you. I don't like to see you cry. I want you to be able to practice your kink safely and cleanly. So this is how it's going to work. If you want to put it off to get off, you wear one of these. That's it. That's how it's gonna go.”She sits there silently for a while. Considers her words carefully. “You can't make me,” she says, finally. Her pout is adorable. He suppresses a smile.“No, I can't, and yes, I can. Remind me whose house you're living in?”“Yours,” she says.“And who is your boyfriend?”“You, silly.”“I just wanted to hear you say it. If you want those two things to continue as before, then you have a choice. Either you lay off on your experiments—that's fine by me—or you choose to protect yourself in case you overestimate your capabilities. Like you've done now, what, three times the last month?”Casey rises. “Please,” she pleads.“I love you, and I'm doing this for you. Don't you think most boyfriends would be disgusted by what you've done?”Her eyes tear up. “Baby, don't cry.” Mark walks over and gives her shoulders a squeeze. “I didn't mean it like that. I'm not disgusted. I mean, I don't know how to feel—maybe I'll even grow to like it. But this is how we do it. Are you with me?” Casey looks much younger than she is, in this moment. Like a lost little girl. She nods.“You better have gotten me some high-quality shit,” she says. “This princess ain't getting pampered in nothing but premium fucking diapers.”The tension in his shoulders eases. The hard part is over. “Oh, but you are my princess, aren't you?”She pretends to hide behind her fingers. “I'm not a baby, Mark.”“No, you're far too naughty for that, young lady.”Casey walks over and touches the pack of pull-ups. “So are these like…?”“Those are the kind you can pull up and down. The other kind has tapes and it's built to take a soaking.”“I...” The way she's looking at the pull-ups has changed. What was once disgust, then defiance, has given away to something else. Curiosity?Mark decides that it's time to spice things up. This is a kink for her, after all. And truth be told, being in control is his kink. He loves to humiliate her, but he hates to see her cry—she doesn't enjoy it the way he does. But perhaps in this strange, confused thing they have going on, they can find some middle ground to satisfy them both.“Princess, did you go pee-pee today?” It's late evening. If she hasn't gone today, she must be bursting.“Don't talk like that,” she says. “Like I'm two.”“Baby, have you been to the toilet today?” A little difference in tone.“Not since this morning.”“Girl, you must be bursting,” Mark says. A little laugh escapes him. “Would you like to try one on?”Their eyes meet, and he knows she wants it. She might have a little trouble swallowing her pride, but part of her is excited. Not to wear something so juvenile, perhaps, but for something else—to live out her fetish with the enthusiastic support of a lover. Mark guesses this is something she's done in secret all her life, well, as long as she's been sexually aware anyway. “Take off your pants and panties,” Mark says. “I'll help you put them on.”Casey hesitates, but then she complies. Her yoga pants come off, then her panties. She hands them to him, as if to prove she's still dry. He takes a moment to admire her shaved pussy, but that can come later. If things go the way he hopes, she'll be in heat by tonight. Mark unwraps the package of pull-ups and then helps her step into it. He pulls it up her hips, and it fits surprisingly snuggly. Casey has a small frame, although she's got it where it counts.She looks down at her infantile new undergarment. Puts a hand to it and pushes it into her sex, just to see what it feels like. Then she bends down to pick up her yoga pants.“Nuh-uh,” Mark says. “No pants.”“What! You can't expect me to walk around in just… a diaper!”“Baby, we're home alone. No one's going to see. But I need to be able to check if you're wet.”Casey stomps her foot. The gesture was probably meant to be definite, defiant, mature, but it comes across like a childish tantrum. It's hard to look mature when all you're dressed in is a loose top and a diaper. “I am not going to pee myself! You know I don't like that. I told you, I'm strictly into holding.”“Well, never say never. I mean, you've been an accident prone little girl lately.”“Mark, for the second time, don't take that tone with me. Please don't infantilize me… Any more than I already am. Look at me.” She twirls around, giving him a good look at her pampered bum.“I'm sorry, baby. It's just, you look so cute right now. I can't help but tease you a bit. I'm sorry if I hurt you.” Unbidden tears start welling up in his eyes. It suddenly hits him what he's done—how far he's gone. He knows she's not into humiliation. She knows he is, and she's made it clear to him that it's a no-go.She steps over and gives him a hug. He needed that. “Baby,” she whispers. “I'm not that offended. No need to cry for me. I am a very naughty girl, you know.”He gives her a little smack on her pampered rear. “Off you go and play, then, or whatever it is you do when you're holding. But I'm keeping an eye on you.”She walks over to the coach and lies down. “Actually, I've been up since six this morning,” she says. “I'm kind of tired. Do you mind?”She loves to lie with her head in his lap. It's probably the most affectionate she ever gets outside the bedroom. He positions himself so that she can lay down, and then he switches on the television. A few minutes pass in silence. He looks down and sees that she's got that glazed-over, serene, sleepy look on her face. She's lost in her own world, in his body heat and in the cushions. Mark's getting sleepy himself. The next time he looks down, her eyes are closed, and her breathing is slow, regular. She's asleep.The TV can't hold his attention today. When he looks down at his diapered girlfriend, new, unfamiliar emotions wash over him. Casey's always looked young, and innocent when she's not being deliberately naughty, but this sleeping princess is something else. She's got an irresistible aura—a combination of innocence and, well, if he's honest, sex. He can feel his groin stir, and hopes it doesn't wake her.Then it happens. A low sound, increasing in intensity and loudness. A hiss. He looks over with wide eyes as his girlfriend's diaper expands with a day's worth of urine. The little flowers on the front fade, and the back puffs out. He's beginning to wonder if it's gonna leak, but then the diaper stops expanding.He's got a full-on erection now and he doesn't even know why. This has never been a kink to him. He didn't even know it was a thing. When Mark thought of pee play, he was picturing golden showers. Not this. Not his princess in a wet diaper, sleeping in his lap. Should he wake her?Mark nudges at Casey. “Baby,” he says.“Hmmm?”“Baby, you had an accident.”She opens her eyes. She's still not quite awake, but the shock and embarrassment is apparent on her face. “Shit, I… I fell asleep and...”“Baby,” Mark coos. “That's what diapers are for.”She sits up with a squish. “I'm sorry, I...” She struggles for words.“Shush,” Mark says. “Let's get you into a clean one and ready for bed.”“I don't need, really…”“I know, baby.” Mark looks deep into her eyes. “I know you don't need one. But do you want one?”She stays silent, but her eyes say yes.“Up you go, baby girl,” Mark says, and places his hands behind her wet padding. He lifts her up, and she wraps her feet around his abdomen. He carries her over to the bedroom.“Mark, I'm dirty,” she says.“I can help you with that.”“I'm not a baby,” she repeats. It's almost to the point of being a catchphrase.“No, you're not a baby baby, but you're my baby,” Mark says. He's having trouble articulating just what is going on, but it feels right. Without thinking, he places her on the bed and rips the sides off the wet pull-up. The absorbent material is puffy and yellow. “My, this baby's had quite the accident,” he says.“Stop it,” Casey says, but then she giggles. “I mean that's nothing compared to the clothing store.” She pokes her tongue out at him.“Well, I want you to be protected tonight, babe,” Mark says. “Wait here.”When he returns with one of the tape-on diapers, she's still there, naked from the waist down, with the folded-up evidence of her accident on prominent display. “Now, I want you to lift your bottom,” Mark says.She looks at him askew. “Mark, this is really weirding me out.”He leans in and kisses her. He takes his time, teasing her, letting her lean up to meet his lips. “Baby, to be honest, it's weirding me out too. But it feels right. Does it feel wrong to you?”She considers it. Shakes her head. “No, Mark. It's weird as fuck but it feels so good.”“Now be a good girl and lift that wet bum of yours for me.”She lifts her herself into the “diaper change” position, and he slides the thick new padding under her. Then he brings forth a wet wipe and teases her clit a bit before wiping her down, powdering her up, and taping the diaper fast.Mark looks down at his handiwork. In one day, his girlfriend has gone from a sassy almost-twenty-year-old to a girl who gets her wet diaper changed before bed. He smiles.Casey drags him down into bed with her.“Now, I don't want you leaving this bed until morning,” Mark says. “Then I'll change you again, if you need one.”Casey wrinkles her brow. “But Mark, what if I have to go?”“Then you go. This thing can handle it, and so can I.”“No, I mean, what if I have to go go?”“Oh.” He really hadn't thought of that. Mark supposes he'll have to give her an out. “I wasn't thinking. Of course you can...”“Mark?” She whispers.“Yeah?”“I don't know why, and it's weird as fuck, but this feels so good. The way you care for me.”“I'm glad. I was terrified you'd...”“Would you be disgusted with me?”“What?” Mark is confused. Disgusted? He just changed a pissy diaper!“Would. You. Be. Disgusted? If something else happened...”“Oh. Are you serious?”“Would you?” She's anxious.“Princess, I'd never be disgusted with you. But I mean, like, do you think…?”“I haven't been in two days. I mean, I don't think...”He kisses her again. Can't resist copping a feel at her diapered ass. Somehow the infantile garment makes her even sexier.“Good night, babe.”She presses on. “But Mark… What if...”“Baby girl, you have a diaper on. Now go to sleep.” He gives her another long, passionate kiss, and then they both close their eyes. Soon, only light snoring can be heard. Something's holding her down. She tries to draw a breath, but it comes out a ragged rasp. She pushes, but whatever it is that's sitting on top of her is heavy. All she does is strain her breathing further. She can't breathe, she's too afraid to speak, she must scream but she has no mouth.“Baby,” a voice says, far away. She feels someone tousle her hair. The heavy thing is gone, but her fear is not. She's hyperventilating now, desperately trying to suck in air. She feels the heavy thing between her legs and embarrassment spreads up her body. She can feel herself heat up, she's afraid, she's embarrassed, and she doesn't know where she is.“Baby, wake up.”Casey opens her eyes.“Baby, it's just a nightmare,” the voice says, and now she recognizes it's Mark's.She puts a hand between her legs and feels the padding. Suddenly, she wants nothing to do with any of it. This is all wrong. “Get it off me!” She screams. She tries to rip the tapes, but she's too confused and scared and tired, and all she ends up doing is pushing the padding further into her. “I don't want this! Get it off!”“Baby,” his voice says. His tone is so different now, here in the dark. Usually he is either stern or casual. Now, he is calm and loving and reassuring. “Casey love, it was a bad dream. Sit up, let's talk.” She feels him hoist her by the arms to sit up, leaning against the headboard of the bed.“I'm not a baby,” she says. Her voice is so small and she hates it, but she can't bring herself to yell again. It's still dark in the room and the residual fear is telling her they might hear. Whoever they are, the things in the night. She shakes her head, willing herself awake. For fuck's sake, there are no monsters in the dark. It was a run-of-the-mill nightmare. Sleep paralysis. She's read about it in her psych textbook. It's nothing to cry over. Casey is a grown woman. She just needs to get out of this infantile underwear.“Casey, you're not a baby. You're my girlfriend, okay? All we did was… try something out. If you don't like it, we won't do it anymore.”Casey sighs. She is awake now, and her eyes are adjusting to the darkness. She can see the alarm clock, it's 4:01 in the morning. She can make out the contours of their dresser. When she turns, she sees her boyfriend. He's still playing with her hair, and one hand is placed on her shoulder. Casey wills herself to relax.Mark turns on the light on the bed stand. “Casey, what's wrong?” He sounds concerned.“This.” She gestures at her diaper. “This all feels wrong. You're stupid for making me do this and I hate you.” She regrets it the moment the words slip out. He looks wounded. It's not often Casey sees her boyfriend look genuinely vulnerable, but right now, he looks like a shot animal trying to limp away from a hunter. She is no hunter. “I'm sorry,” she says. Her voice is small again. “I don't hate you.”“I know you don't,” he says, and kisses her forehead. Then he turns around and fishes out their iPad from the bed stand drawer. Mark hands it to her.“Here,” he says. “Let's do a little research. Let's look online. You know about rule 34?”She giggles. Can't help it. “If it exists, there's porn of it on the internet?”He nods. “Let's just google this thing.” He types in the words “pee fetish” and hits search.There are more results than she had guessed. Millions. There are golden showers, pee drinking—all sorts of things that disgust her to her core. But then there's something. She clicks on “Omorashi FAQ.”“Omorashi,” she reads aloud, “is a fetish centered around being desperate to pee, or peeing oneself.” That's it! “That's my thing!” She says, suddenly a little excited. “The holding part, not the actual peeing your pants. That's gross.” She feels a little self-conscious then, remembering her recent accidents.Mark takes the iPad again and types in something else. “Diaper fetish.” Forums and blogs show up. Casey clicks onto a tumblr page. There's a picture of a young woman—although clearly of legal age—in pigtails, dressed in a onesie with an obvious diaper bulge, sitting in an oversize playpen sucking on a pacifier. The tags say “Daddy Dom/Little Girl,” and the text reads: “Daddy gave me cummies today and then he diapered me for bed. I wuw my dada!”Casey throws the iPad onto the bed. “What the actual fuck!” She yells. “I only have one daddy and he's my goddamn father! I don't want to call the guy I'm fucking 'daddy' and I don't want to suck on pacifiers and sit in playpens and what in the ever living fuck is 'cummies'? Are these people actual children pretending to be adults?”Mark listens to her tirade in silence. “You done?”“Not even close,” Casey says.“Casey,” he says. Something tells her she better listen. “You and I are us. We don't have to do anything we don't want to do. Who are these tumblr people to tell us how our relationship is gonna work?”“You're goddamn right,” Casey says. “Don't you ever think I'm calling you daddy, mister.”“Look,” he says. “That isn't us. That's just some people. They can do whatever and we'll do our thing. But you have to admit, I'm the Dom and you're my sub. I'm the one paying for this house, I'm the one making sure you're keeping up with college, giving you work experience, and making sure you don't end up with pissy pants.”She blushes at that last bit. Casey wants to deny it, but he's kind of right. Life with Mark is different from life with her ex, or back at home with her parents. She has clear responsibilities, and he makes sure she keeps them. But she's never been happier, never more successful, never more motivated than the year they've had together. When she really thinks about it, she's given him a lot of control over her life, but he's more than delivered on his end of the deal.But still, she can't get over the diapers. The thing that's encasing her lower half right now. Or the wet one Mark magicked away while she wasn't looking. She's not a baby girl. She doesn't want “cummies.” When Casey is in the mood, she wants a good hard fuck.“Tell me about this omorashi thing,” he says.She considers it. “I never knew it was a thing. I just always knew… Even in kindergarten, I got this weird excited feeling when someone peed their pants. When I became a teenager, I began experimenting. Holding it until it was almost too late. The feeling was amazing. The pressure, the desperation, the thrill and naughtiness of it all. And when I'd just make it to the bathroom in time, the relief was so good… I gotta admit, I'd rub it out right then and there.”“But you don't like the accidents?”She blushes. “I don't want to… never wanted to pee myself. I got kind of excited seeing other people desperate, I kind of wanted them not to make it, but myself, I can't take the humiliation. I just want to reach that edge and stay there.”“You never told me about this,” he says.“I was embarrassed. I thought you'd think I was a freak.”“You are a freak.” He rubs her shoulders. “I like you that way.” Oh, Mark, always the sweet talker in just the right moments.“So you never had any accidents, with your experiments?” He prods. She's embarrassed to talk about this. But this feels like an important moment in their relationship. Like they're on the verge of something new. There's no use holding back now. She's already wearing a diaper for fuck sake.“Only once,” she whispers.“Tell me about it.” Casey doesn't want to, she really doesn't. “It's okay,” he says. “I've seen you wet before.”A hole, just the right size for her body, straight through the bed and into the core of the Earth. That would be nice right now. But Casey's in the waking world now. “Promise not to make fun of me,” she says.“I would never.” Oh, he would, but she senses this time he's serious. “Okay. I was sixteen and feeling frisky. You know how it is when you're that age.” Not so long ago for her. A little longer for him. “So I held it all day, only went once at lunch and then for the rest of the day, I wasn't gonna pee. The pressure built up, and it felt so naughty. I had to be careful not to squirm at the dinner table. I had this stupid idea that I'd do the ultimate challenge—twenty-four hours. I'd hold it until lunch the next day. By the time I was getting ready for bed, I couldn't stand still. I just about managed to hold on as a put on my pajama bottoms. Then I had to stiffen up and walk past my parents on the way to the bathroom as if nothing was wrong. I was just gonna brush my teeth, flush the toilet so it sounded like my normal routine, and go to bed. I just about lost it when I saw the toilet, five feet away. But I managed to hold on.”Mark's propped himself up and is listening eagerly.“So you know, I squeeze some toothpaste on my brush, turn on the water, and then… Then it just happened, Mark. It began running down my legs. I couldn't do a thing. I stood frozen, feeling the warmth, all of it just pour out of me, down my legs, puddling around my naked feet, as the tap ran. But that wasn't the worst of it.”“There's more?”“Just as I finished going, standing there like an idiot holding my toothbrush in a puddle of pee, five feet from the toilet, my brother bursts in the door and sees me. He sees his sixteen-year-old sister, and she's clearly pissed herself, all over, there's pee almost from one corner of the room to the other, and I'm standing there with my toothbrush so close to the toilet.”“Wow,” Mark says.“I've never been so embarrassed. I couldn't explain it. My brother was actually really nice about it, didn't even tell our parents. But he couldn't understand why I didn't just go to the toilet if I was that desperate. I tried to tell him I was just gonna brush my teeth, but I mean, the size of that puddle… I cried for days after that. Didn't dare do any more pee games for a whole year. I hated it. I wanted it gone. But that urge never went away.”Mark rubs her shoulders. “Oh, baby,” he says, and although she hates that word, in the context of—her in a diaper—it feels right, then. “I'm so sorry that happened to you. But then you started up your little games again?”She turns to face him and tries for a coy smile. “You bring out my naughty side. I guess I must have overestimated my abilities. Several times. But you know I hated the way you treated me, like a child who isn't potty trained.”Mark puts a hand on her stomach and rubs it. Slowly, he inches down towards her padding and gives that a good rub, too. Casey can't help but buck into his hand. She shivers. She's confused.“Do you still want out of that diaper?” He asks.She can feel her stomach knotting up. She has to go. Really go.“I'll be right back,” Casey says, and slips out of bed before he can follow her. She's quick on her feet. The layout of their home is imprinted in her memory to the point she can navigate it blind. She finds the bathroom, rips at the tapes until the damn diaper flops down to the floor, and positions herself on the potty. The toilet. She does her business, all of it—how could she ever even have considered the possibility of doing that in her diaper—and then she puts on a pair of panties and returns to bed.“No diaper, then,” Mark says. Casey's carrying a big glass of water. All this heart-to-hearting has made her mouth dry. “Sure that's a good idea?” He says, gesturing at the glass, the size of it.“Mark, I'm not gonna wet the bed. I'm not a baby and I just went.”“Come join your fiancee, then,” he says.She slips into bed before the words register. “What did you just say?”“I said, come join your… I mean, do you want to marry me?”She doesn't know what to say. “Mark, this is too much, this is...”“I'm sorry,” he says. “It slipped out. It was stupid. We've only been together a year. Forget it.”But she can't, now that it's out there. “No, no, Mark. Don't forget it. It's… Let's talk about it in the morning.”Casey closes her eyes and thinks of walking down the aisle. Mark wakes first. It's a Saturday, and they've slept late. It's already noon. Casey's big glass of water stands empty on the bed stand. Today seems like a good day. An unreasonably happy day. Things that have been bubbling under the surface have finally come up for air, and the atmosphere is all the better for it. He kind of regrets his awkward, impromptu proposal, but Casey seemed to take it for what it was: confused, sleepy, but well meant. And she didn't seem totally against the idea.Mark takes a long look at the empty glass and shakes his girlfriend awake. “Casey, morning baby,” he says.“Morn'n,” she grumbles.“No, wake up for real, sweetie,” he says, and gives her another shake.She sits up and her hand immediately shoots to her crotch. She's out of bed in no time. “Stop,” he says, as she heads out the door. Casey turns. She's got her legs twisted together, giving herself a sexy cameltoe. “You're so cute when you're desperate,” he says. He didn't find it very cute at the mall, or the dinner party, but after last night's talk, after the diapering and everything, he's seen her in a different light. This is a pure expression of Casey-ness, and he loves that. He can even feel some morning wood coming on through his boxers.“Mark, I gotta go,” she says.“Sure you can't hold it a little longer? You're a big girl.”She turns and walks over to him, gingerly. “Mark, I have to piss like a racehorse.”“Told you that big glass of water—”“I didn't piss the bed, did I? Now are you going to...”He grabs her, lifts her into the air, plants her onto the bed. He's on top, holding her wrists lightly, looking down into her eyes.“Mark!” She yells. “Mark, it's gonna come out!”“I know you like it,” he says. “You love that feeling, don't you?” He slips a finger inside her panties. It comes away wet, but he doesn't think it's pee. She moans.“What if I told you that you could have that feeling a little longer?”She moans again as he massages through her panties. “Mhmm,” she moans. “Mark...”“Are you a big girl, or are you a baby?”“You know I'm not.”“Then surely you can wait until breakfast.” He lets go of her and helps her off the bed. The outside of her panties are still dry, although the insides, he reckons, are sticky.“I can hold it a while longer, 'long as you don't sit on my fucken' bladder, Mark,” she says. Casey in sassy mode, but at the same time, desperate and littler than usual.“Then you know the deal.”Her eyes widen. “No. I'm not doing that.”“Is it because you think it makes you a baby? Are you afraid you'll disgust me? That I'll humiliate you?”She crosses her legs and nods. “All of those, I guess.” A hand lingers between her legs.“Baby, tell me who awkwardly, stupidly proposed to you last night?”She turns her face and gives him a quizzical look. “You?”“After all you told me, I went and did something so stupid anyway. Because I actually do love you.”He can see her melt. There are those moments in life when you know you have someone in the palm of your hand, when you know they want it even more than you do. When all you need to do, is make it acceptable to ask.“Now, baby, either you run to the potty before you spring a leak, or I run and get some protection.”“No baby talk,” Casey says. She briefly crosses her arms, but quickly finds she must return them to her crotch.“Okay,” Mark says. “I will tease you, but know that it's all in good fun.” He points at the bulge in his boxers. “No baby talk. But am I pampering you or not?”She grins and points at his boner. “Your little man really wants it, huh?”Mark nods. “Big man too.”“Then off you go, and remember to spare some blood for that stupid brain of yours!”Mark hurries off to get one of the pull-ups. When he returns, she's knotted tightly like a pretzel. He moves over, slides down her underwear, then slides up the pull-up. Once he's done, he holds up her panties so she can see them clearly. He lets a finger glide along the gusset. It's wet, but is it pee?“Mark, I'm so fucking turned on right now,” Casey says. Not pee then.He takes her hand, forcing it away from her padded crotch, and they walk over to the kitchen. “Eggs and toast okay?” He asks. He's pretending this is a normal morning, but all he can think of is the state of her bladder. Will she break? How will she react if she does? Or will she run off before it's too late this time?“Sounds good,” she says. Her voice is strained. Once he's ready to serve her, he finds her sitting bent over the kitchen table. Still only in her loose top and diaper. Casey notices him looking under the table and spreads her legs seductively.Mark walks over and slips a finger in beside the leg gathers. Casey stiffens. “Mark!” She says, prying his hand away.“All dry, like a grown girl,” he says.“Of course I am. And starving, too,” she adds. But her expression isn't so sure.They eat and try to talk about their plans for the night—date night at home or dinner at a restaurant? But Casey's state is heavy in the air, even if he can't smell anything yet. She picks at her toast and eggs. Maybe not so starving after all, or perhaps the thought of filling her tummy with anything more is too much. He can't help but notice her crossed legs under the table.“Yeah, I think Italian sounds amazing, Mark,” she's saying. “We haven't eaten out in so long, and you're being a cheapskate and canceling the office Christmas party...”“I'm not canceling it, honey, it's just we've got a lot on our plate right now and I'm thinking January works better.”“Whatever. Take me out tonight, be a gentleman,” she says. She's about to say something more, but then she gasps. Her mouth forms an O, and without thinking he scoots his chair away from the table and fixates on her crotch. There's a hiss. She moans. He can see the color on the flower change, and the diaper expands. She puts a hand to her crotch, but it's too late now. The dam has burst. She pees and pees, and then he sees a little trickle slide out the leghole and gather on the chair. Casey's shocked. The sight of it has Mark in a different state of shock, too. He rises and walks over to her.“Young lady,” he says. “Is there something you want to tell me?”Her face has been lost in a different land, but now it returns, and she blushes. He holds her gaze. “Well?”“I...” She stammers.“Remind me, did someone tell me she could keep her panties dry, what, thirty minutes ago?”Casey looks down at her wet diaper. “I did, Mark.”“Well, did you?”She looks up at him with a spark in her eye. “Of course, babe,” she says. “Of course I'm dry.”“Stand up,” he commands.She hesitates a little, but does as he commands.Her diaper has doubled in size. A little trickle slides out the leghole and down her legs, those toned legs he loves so much. Casey's eyes are fixated on her accident.Mark slips a finger inside the padding, traces a little path past her clit before he withdraws. It's dripping. “Young lady,” he says.“It was an accident!” She pleads. He's happy to see she isn't in tears this time. “You made me! You goaded me into this! It's your fault!”Mark laughs. “It's my fault my little girl—” he stops himself before he slips into the juvenile talk she hates. “It's my fault my grown girlfriend peed her pants? Or did someone else pee your pants?”“No, I—”He grabs her, swings down onto the chair—he can feel a little wetness seeping into his boxers once his butt hits the seat—and places her on his lap. “Baby,” he says, as his hand again slips down into the wet padding. “I want you to say it.”“Say what?”“You know what I mean.”“I had an accident, Mark,” she whispers. “In my diaper,” she adds, even fainter. Then she giggles. “And I can feel your appreciation. It's poking at my wet ass.”“I need you so much right now,” he whispers.“Take me,” she whispers back.He lifts her off his lap. Notices in passing the wet spot on his boxers. Casey bends herself over the kitchen table. Quickly, he undoes his boxers. Mark doesn't even bother removing the wet padding from his girlfriend's ass. He simply slides the diaper a bit to the side and makes his way in from the back. She moans as he thrusts himself inside. More pee spills out. Neither of them care. After, they take a shower together. Mark makes a show of holding up the soaking evidence for her to see. She blushes, but then she laughs. He tosses it in the trash. Clean and dry, they make their way back to bed. Casey cuddles up to him. “You think this is something you could come to enjoy?” He whispers in her ear.“I can't wait for round two,” she says. They lie there like that for a while, lost in the bliss of each other and the post-coital glow. “So, Italian,” she says suddenly. “You think you know a good place for pizza and a proposal?”Mark laughs. “I'm thinking pasta. I'll make you a ring of spaghetti.”Casey laughs, too. “If I'm the lady, you're definitely the tramp.”
  24. Being Told to Wet View File Not really sure what section these would belong in. They're femdom style videos with girls telling you / teasing you to wet. Submitter 8BitMike Submitted 07/20/2017 Category Desperation Clothing  
  25. I've seen some picture topics with various themes, but none for my biggest turn on: Boys being diapered (or even forced to diapers) by females (+/- dominated, embarassed, punished, humiliated). It doesn't have to be diaper change, any photo or drawing of submissive male in diaper with non-diapered female will do! Guys preferably youthful (teen looking), slim aaand less hairy = better. No special request for female caretakers. Tbh, this kind of pictures seems to be quite rare, which is unfortunate. So, I am starting this one and I hope you will help me fill it with your finds and treasures! some drawings! (author: Ah-bagels, source: http://ah-bagels.tumblr.com) More drawings! (author: Merunya, source: http://merunyaa.tumblr.com) Even some more (sorry, not sure about author or source :-/ ) Photos (not mine)
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