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Hello together, I'm curious when/how you discovered that you like omorashi in general. In my case I can't really say that there was a real point where I knew I like it. Most probably it came out of porn, cause I once found a pornstar whom I really liked and she had some peeing videos. After this I looked for more content and went through many sites just as vk. When my interest in omorashi grew I often felt like a pervert, especially in school when our girls needed to pee. That's why I always tried to be far away from the toilets because I just felt dirty and was afraid some could discover it. So well, that's my story. Now it's your turn 🙂

Okay so hear me out, I've been thinking about this lately while venturing multiple sides of the omorashi community. ...Why does it seem like the bladders of those with certain kinks just, work differently? What I mean is, you know those people who drink insane amounts of water until their abdomen is concerningly swollen. They wait for hours and hours without all the drama that comes with the wetting side of things? Those people who drink a lot of water and wait a lot of time till they eventually burst, losing all control. But.. you don't really see that with the bladder bulge enthusiasts. Both drink a lot of water, both wait a lot of time, and both get really desperate. That's including the fact that both, assuming they like what they do, engage in the practice often. That means they both have trained bladders and such. So how come it seems like one is weakening their bladder the more they hold, while the other seems to be strengthening it? This question probably has a clear answer, but I just want to know if I'm the only one who is/was confused by this?

How big a part of your kink is this website? Do you spend a majority of your porn watching time here, do you visit other sites? For me, this site is like 95 percent of my porn watching. I spend a little time on pixiv looking up images to share here, and pornhub for videos. Other than that, i spend pretty much all my porn time on the internet here. I look forward to seeing others' responses.

My name is Feather and I am a freelance writer. I am best at fiction, specifically romantic and NSFW fiction about specialized kinks, as well as romantic stories that make everyone in their realm of desires enjoy themselves! I am incredibly open minded when it comes to kinks, with only two major exceptions listed below. I also have experience writing many kinks, the main ones being Omorashi, Scat, Foot Fetish, as well as Micro/Macro. I also ghostwrite, with no additional charge incurred, so if you’re looking to publish a book in your name but don’t have the time come to me and I’ll help you out! Self insert fiction with pop culture icons, NSFW with anything you want, or simple romance for people not interested in sex! Nothing is held back, and I want to write for you! Please ask me for the link to my Archive of Our Own if you'd like examples, that is where I post every commission that I am given permission to post. [Pricing] - 2 cents per word, this means that 1,000 words is 20$. (Right now I have a minimum requirement of at least 35$ spent, I apologize if this causes inconvenience.) - Revisions, extras cost an additional 15$ [What to Expect] - When you order I work out a rough outline based on information you give me, I can send in the outline to be checked. - After the outline I turn it into a rough draft, which I can send to you to be checked. (Please note that you get one free revision, if you do not communicate what you want for the first re-write if anything is wrong, that is not my fault.) - After the rough draft is a final draft, which can be sent to you as a PDF, a word document, or both. [Timeline] - Rush Orders are available and it is double the price to get it in a day or less. - It’s very hard to pin down writing into a timeline, but we can hash it out privately very easily. [Exceptions to What I Will Write] - Non-Consensual sexual actions are under no circumstances accepted. - Underage people participating in sexual acts will not be done. [Contact Me] Email: [email protected] Discord: Harpy#9737

I recently found the term "plushophile" which is someone who is into having sex with stuffed animals. I did that few times when I was a teenager and recently tried it again. It was a lot of fun. Is anyone else into this? What plushies do you like? What do you do with them?

Happy Friday everyone! I hope all of you are staying safe. I’ve always had this question ever since I joined this site, and I still can’t answer it now. I knew that when I joined this site I was one of many, but what about those people who don’t join the site. The ones who don’t even know about our site. What about those who deny their kink and put it aside saying it’s no big deal? What magnitude of people are there out there? It’s an interesting question to say the least, it’s a question that can’t be answered either, since you can’t read the minds of thousands. But one thing is certain: there are some who can’t enjoy their kink due to their environment or the lack of acceptance for their kink to be incorporated into their everyday lives. Some people are just to scared to adventure into it. It really is too bad. Here at omo.org our culture is very accepting and open to those new members. We often encouragement and never leave anyone out. You often hear about people joining, not people leaving. I’ve only been here for 12 months and I never want to leave. You people are amazing. I always wish that those who may not fledge out their kink would just visit this site and I know they would be presented with nothing but good times. I can safely say most of the people I talk to on this site are from an English background, and I already have talked about my respect and envy that I have for their overall great culture. What about those countries with less access to technology in general? Without a source of entertainment to further the kink, no advancements can be made. That automatically rules out wetting videos and online stories, the two most prominent ways of gaining access to omo. Overall, we will never know the number of people who never get to express their love for omo, but we know that as time goes on, we will continue to welcome in new members everyday and will hope to break new boundaries. Thanks for reading.

Summary: Julian is a bedwetter and diaper lover who likes to pretend to be little. When he starts university, he doesn't feel comfortable staying in the dorms and ends up renting a room in the house of an older man named Alexander. Alexander is tall and athletic and very handsome, and Julian dreams of having him for a Daddy Dom. Perhaps it's meant to be? Author's Note: So, this is a story I've been working on for a long time and feel like I'm finally getting somewhere with, so I've decided to start posting it. It's actually inspired by a pair of characters from one of my Sims games, with a bedwetting and incontinence mod plus a lot of custom content, so I've got some screenshots I can share with you all as well. The names of some of the locations and other things mentioned are taken from The Sims 4 and the Discover University expansion pack. I hope you enjoy it! CW for this chapter: sexual content, misgendering, dysphoria ———————— Chapter 1. Julian rang the doorbell, looking up at the house while he waited. It was nice. Not huge, but definitely among the nicer houses in Britechester, a town known for its fine old architecture. It was the home of Professor Alexander Jones of the History, Languages, and Literature departments at UBrite. Julian expected a kindly old man or a stern teacher, but that was not what greeted him when the door opened. The man in front of him was in his mid to late forties. His brown hair was dusted with silver and he wore a tweed suit, all of which was in keeping with Julian’s idea of distinguished UBrite professors. But Professor Jones was also tall, broad shouldered, and decidedly well built. His slacks clung to his thick, muscled thighs, and even through the suit it was impossible not to see that this man was in peak physical condition. ‘Ah! You must be Julian. Come in!’ ‘Er . . . thank you.’ Julian smiled and stepped through the door. No one told me UBrite professors were muscle daddies, he thought. I wonder what the ones at Foxbury are like. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Professor Jones,’ he said. ‘Alexander, please.’ The man gave him a brilliant smile, making Julian’s heart pound. ‘I’m not your teacher. Not yet, anyway. What were you planning to study?’ ‘Oh, I’m going to Foxbury, not UBrite.’ Julian smiled. Alexander raised an eyebrow. ‘Bold of you, to tell me you’ll be going to the competition.’ Julian laughed. ‘If UBrite gave Honours degrees in STEM fields, I’m sure that’s where I’d be going, but as it is, Foxbury’s the place for a budding engineer.’ ‘Hmm. Well, to each his own. I expect you’ll want to see the room.’ He led Julian up two flights of stairs, to the top floor of the house, and opened a door. The room was large and comfortable-looking, with a bed, dresser, closet, sofa, and desk. ‘You’ll have your own bathroom,’ said Alexander, walking through the room and opening a door. Julian peeked inside. The bathroom was blue-tiled, with a corner bathtub, shower, and plenty of cupboard space. That was good. ‘This looks really nice,’ said Julian and grinned. ‘I’ll take it if you’ll have me.’ ‘Well, you seem like a nice young man.’ Alexander smiled. ‘So, I don’t see why not. Any particular reason you won’t be in the dorms, though?’ Julian looked down. ‘I . . . couldn’t get a single room. And I kind of need my own bathroom.’ ‘Oh? Why?’ Julian shrugged. ‘Well, you should probably know anyway. I’m trans. Three years on hormones and got my top surgery earlier this year, but I don’t feel quite comfortable sharing space. I’d like to pass if I can, and there’s no way of really doing that in a dorm with communal showers. Plus, I have a medical condition.’ Alexander cocked his head to one side. ‘What kind of condition?’ Julian looked down, blushing a little. ‘It’s kind of embarrassing, sir.’ ‘Well, I won’t laugh,’ Alexander promised. His voice was kind and he looked sincere. ‘I . . . suffer from night time incontinence,’ Julian confessed. ‘So, I wear diapers to bed. Kind of awkward if you’re sharing a room.’ ‘Hmm, I imagine it would be.’ Alexander nodded sympathetically. ‘Well, I don’t care about any of that. Thank you for being so honest with me, though. I appreciate honesty and openness. You can expect the same from me, should you choose to accept.’ ‘You’re offering me the room, then?’ Julian asked. ‘Absolutely. In fact, I’ll be disappointed if you don’t take it.’ Julian grinned at the older man. ‘Okay, then I will. Thank you, Professor!’ The professor smiled. ‘I thought I told you to call me Alexander.’ # ‘Ah! Daddy! Harder, Daddy!’ Julian cried. He lay on his stomach on a bed in his favourite club, being pounded by a large man in his thirties. The man picked up the pace, slapping Julian’s behind a couple of times as he did. ‘Such a dirty little girl!’ he growled. Julian froze. ‘Unicorn,’ he said. The man didn’t stop. ‘Unicorn!’ ‘Oh! Sorry.’ The man climbed off him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. What’s wrong? Didn’t you like being called dirty?’ Julian sat up and faced him, arms crossed over his chest. ‘I didn’t like being called a girl,’ he said. ‘What part of the “no misgendering” clause in our negotiation did you not understand?’ ‘Sorry,’ the man said again. ‘I . . . You’ve got girl parts and with you facing away, I forgot.’ ‘They’re not girl parts,’ said Julian. ‘They’re my parts, and I’m a boy.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ The man sounded more sincere now. ‘I’m . . . I’m not used to being with trans guys. I’m bi, I don’t really see gender.’ ‘You gender genitalia just fine,’ Julian mumbled, looking away. ‘I’m really sorry, Julian. Please forgive me and let’s continue. Weren’t you having fun?’ The truth was that Julian had been bored nearly to tears. This daddy wasn’t rough enough, and he was too young to be a real daddy anyway. Julian preferred men who were old enough to be his real father, but this one had seemed nice enough so he’d thought he would give it a try. Clearly, that had been a mistake, as he was inexperienced at being a Daddy Dom. ‘I was,’ Julian lied. ‘But I lost the mood when you called me a girl. I’m sorry. I suggest next time you’re with a trans person, you pay better attention to the agreement.’ He got off the bed and went to fetch his clothes. He got a clean diaper out of his bag. ‘At least let me help you get that on,’ the man said. ‘That’s easier, isn’t it?’ Julian sighed. ‘Fine.’ He handed over the diaper and lay on the bed. ‘No powder?’ the man asked. ‘No need, I’m going straight home. Got homework I need to do tomorrow.’ ‘Homework? You’re not still in high school, are you?’ The man looked slightly concerned. ‘No,’ said Julian, laughing a little. He knew he looked a little younger than he was, like many trans guys. ‘I’m at university. I study engineering at Foxbury. Don’t worry, I’m twenty like I said.’ ‘Is it your second year?’ ‘No, I’m a fresher. I just took a year off before applying. I wanted to have my top surgery first. I know I’m easy enough to clock, but I don’t walk around wearing trans flags. I’d like to pass if I can.’ ‘I didn’t clock you,’ said the man, closing the tabs on the diaper. ‘There, all done.’ ‘You misgendered me,’ Julian reminded him. ‘It was a heat of the moment thing. When I saw you, I just saw a cute boy in a onesie. I didn’t realise you were trans until you told me.’ Julian smiled. ‘I don’t quite believe you, but I appreciate it all the same.’ He got up and went over to his clothes again. He pulled on the onesie, then put on his loose jeans and t-shirt over it. ‘I’m sorry this didn’t work out.’ ‘Not as sorry as me,’ the man said, smiling. # Julian had been at university a month now. He enjoyed his classes and had gotten to know a few of his classmates well enough, but not exactly made any friends. He usually went to the club in the city on weekends, rather than hang out in the student pub in Britechester. So far, it was the only BDSM club he’d found where ABDL was not only accepted but encouraged, though they catered to a wide array of kinks. At the club, he could be himself. He’d walk around in his blue onesie with fluffy socks, a teddy bear and a pacifier and ask people, ‘Have you seen my Daddy?’ The ones who were into adult baby age play and didn’t mind trans boys loved it, and he rarely left the club without having had a partner. The man he’d been with tonight had reacted by pinching Julian’s cheeks and saying, ‘I’ll be your Daddy, kiddo. Wanna come play with me?’ They’d sat down at a table, worked out the terms, and when they got to their room, Julian had wet himself, thrown a temper tantrum, been spanked and then fucked. Honestly, in spite of the slightly half-assed scolding and spanking, it had been fine until they got to the fucking. Maybe the man just hadn’t been big enough to give Julian the pounding he craved. It was nearly midnight when he got home, so he was surprised to find Alexander in the living room with a tumbler of whisky, reading a book. ‘Hey you. Been out?’ The older man smiled, and Julian found himself wishing he’d run into his landlord at the club instead of the man he’d been with. Alexander was dressed casually, in neat jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his extremely muscular arms. Julian had found Alexander had gym equipment in the basement and did strength workouts for half an hour every morning. He also went jogging twice a week. He was a very disciplined man. Julian, on the other hand, had never been athletic; he was a nerdy blonde with glasses who dreamt of working in robotics. His pudginess and his smooth, round face lent themselves well to toddler roleplay, though. ‘Yeah.’ Julian returned the smile as best he could. ‘Did you go to Pepper’s?’ Alexander asked, referring to the student pub. Julian shook his head. ‘No, I went clubbing in the city.’ ‘By yourself? Or was it a date?’ Julian had noticed that Alexander often asked about where he’d been. The questions didn’t feel invasive, and it wasn’t like he was policing Julian’s movements, but his curiosity always took the young man by surprise. ‘Not exactly.’ Julian blushed again, and Alexander seemed to notice. ‘Something more casual, then.’ He smiled mischievously. ‘You want a drink?’ Julian rarely drank alcohol when he went to the club, preferring to be one hundred percent in control for the negotiations. Tonight, he’d had a couple glasses of orange juice when he’d arrived, to make sure he’d need to pee when he got picked up for play. He’d felt like bratting. ‘Why not?’ he said, sitting down. ‘Gotta warn you, though. I’m not exactly a whisky connoisseur.’ Alexander smiled, standing up and heading over to the bar cabinet. ‘A little one, then,’ he said. ‘With just a drop of water.’ He handed Julian a tumbler. ‘Old Yorkfield, sixteen years. Should be to your tastes.’ ‘What are you drinking?’ Julian asked. ‘McDillan’s,’ Alexander replied, taking his seat again. ‘Not for novices, I’m afraid. It’s very smoky. If you handle the Yorkfield well, maybe you’ll graduate to McDillan’s.’ He winked and Julian blushed a little again. He was suddenly all too aware that he hadn’t orgasmed with the man at the club. And Alexander oozed big dick energy. He took a sip of the whisky and made a face. ‘Wow. That’s strong.’ Alexander laughed. ‘You’ll get used to it. So, tell me about your not-date. Did you have fun?’ Julian bobbed his head. ‘It was okay at first. But . . . he misgendered me halfway through, so I left.’ Alexander frowned. ‘That’s not very polite. I’m sorry that happened to you.’ ‘Extra not polite since we’d negotiated—’ Julian cut himself off. Negotiation was not a part of casual sex outside the kink community, he reminded himself. ‘I mean, since I’d told him straight out not to do that.’ He took another sip of the whisky. It went down smoother now and he was already feeling a little woozy, no doubt because he hadn’t eaten since before he went to the club. ‘Don’t understand why boy pussy’s so hard to accept,’ he mumbled, then froze. Had he really said ‘boy pussy’ in front of his university professor landlord? The man who wore tweed every day, like a proper gentleman? ‘I mean—sorry, that just slipped out.’ Alexander laughed, but his face was kind. ‘I’m not a prude, Julian. I’ve been ’round the block a few times. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you could say that would shock me.’ What about ‘I like pretending I’m three years old and having strange men change my diaper, spank me, fuck me, and occasionally piss on me in BDSM clubs’? Julian thought, but outwardly he just smiled and drained his tumbler. ‘I should get to bed. Got homework in the morning.’ ‘I’ve been meaning to say,’ said Alexander as Julian stood, ‘if you need someone to proofread your papers, I’d be happy to help.’ ‘Oh, no,’ said Julian. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’ ‘You wouldn’t be asking me to, I offered,’ said Alexander. ‘And I mean it.’ His tone was commanding and sent shivers down Julian’s back. ‘Oh. Okay. Well, thanks, I . . . I appreciate that.’ ‘No worries,’ said Alexander. ‘I’m teaching fewer classes this semester, cause I’m working on a thesis with a couple of PhD candidates. You probably won’t believe it, but I miss grading papers. Proofing yours would fill a need, even if I can’t understand half of what’s in them.’ He laughed. ‘Not one for physics?’ Julian asked. Alexander shook his head. ‘I’m a Humanities man, and I always have been. Now, off to bed, young man.’ He had a twinkle in his eye, but there was that commanding tone again. Julian could feel his heart pound in his groin. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said, and went up the stairs. Once in his room, Julian locked the door and stripped down to his onesie. He got on the bed and humped his pillow until he came and then wet himself, thinking of Alexander’s strong arms holding him down. Afterwards, he lay there panting for a long time. ‘This is bad,’ he mumbled. ‘This is really, really bad.’ If he’d ever wanted someone to be his daddy full time, it would have to be Alexander. He wasn’t sure anyone else could measure up.

This is a little something I wrote a couple of days ago. It's a one-shot for now. Maybe there will be more at some point if people like it and I feel up to it. The protagonists are as yet nameless, but that may change too. Who knows? ———————— It starts with harmless flirting. We’re both grad students, sharing an apartment. He’s studying law, I’m in computer science. We didn’t know each other from before, I just found his ad in a Facebook group saying he was looking for a roommate. I’d just been dumped at the time and needed a new place to live. We joke around, he makes lewd comments and we laugh about it. The first time it happens, we’re both drunk. We’ve had a night out with some other students and when we get home, he grabs me and kisses me. We don’t even make it to the bedroom, we just fuck in the hall, up against the front door. It’s never been like that before, with anyone. He’s forceful, and I really like it. We’re not boyfriends. We never kiss, after that first time when we were drunk. But a couple of times a week, we end up in bed together. I never used to be such a bottom, but I love the way he fucks me. I never used to be a size-queen either, but his cock is amazing. I wake up with a sore ass and finger marks around my wrists, and I love it. We’ve been doing it for about a month when, one Saturday, he asks me to the movies out of the blue. An early afternoon showing of some new action flick. I agree immediately, even though it’s not really my genre. I don’t know if it’s a date or if we’re just going out as friends, but I wear my favourite skinny jeans with a faded band t-shirt that’s slightly loose around the collar. It shows off just a little bit of collar bone. I think I look pretty cute. You know, for being me. He buys me a bucket-sized drink on the way into the theatre. ‘Make sure you drink it all,’ he says. Somehow, it sounds like a command, not a suggestion. I glance over at him as we sit down. ‘Hey,’ I whisper, licking my lips. ‘Hm?’ ‘I . . . I was just wondering . . .’ He turns his eyes on me. ‘Wondering what?’ ‘Is . . . is this a date?’ I mumble. He smiles a little wider. ‘I don’t know. Is it?’ I blush, staring down at the drink in my hands, and for want of anything else to do, take a large sip. It’s a pretty good movie in spite of the genre, but about halfway through I start getting the powerful urge to piss. I lean close and whisper, ‘Can I get past? I gotta use the bathroom.’ ‘No,’ he says softly. I blink. ‘I . . . what?’ ‘No,’ he repeats. ‘You’re staying here. You finish that drink yet?’ I shake my head. ‘It’s a really big drink.’ ‘I know. And I’ll be annoyed with you if you haven’t finished it by the time the movie’s done. Stay in your seat.’ Someone shushes us from the row behind and I bite my lip, turning my gaze to the screen. I tap my foot. I guess I can hold it. I take another sip of the drink. I don’t really remember much of the second half of the movie. When my leg starts shaking, he grabs my thigh and squeezes. I swallow, take another drink, try not to think about how much I need to piss. When the movie’s done, he takes the cup from me. ‘Hm. You didn’t finish it.’ ‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I just . . . I really need to—’ ‘Finish the drink first,’ he tells me. ‘We’re not going anywhere until you do.’ He hands the drink back and I take it wordlessly. There’s not that much left, and somehow I manage to finish. Then we stand. I immediately cross my legs. This is not good. I feel like I may wet myself if I don’t get to a bathroom soon. But when we exit the theatre, he takes my hand and leads me straight past the toilets. I stare at him. ‘Wait! I gotta—’ ‘Hold it until we get home,’ he says. ‘But—’ ‘Stop talking back.’ His voice is calm and he’s smiling. He looks mildly amused. I feel myself flush. Part of me is angry that he won’t let me go pee. Another part is embarrassed that I’m struggling so much to hold it. And then there’s a third part of me, buried deep, that’s . . . excited. We exit out onto the street. It’s only about five o’clock so it’s still light. ‘Promise we’re going straight home?’ I ask, my voice pleading. ‘I promise. We’re going to the car.’ Walking is a struggle. With every step, I worry I’ll pee my pants. ‘Please,’ I try again. ‘Can’t we go by a café or something so I can—’ He stops in his tracks and I halt as well. He turns to me. ‘Didn’t I tell you not to talk back?’ Lowering his voice, he whispers, ‘I think I’m gonna have to punish you. When I get you home, I’m gonna give you a good, long spanking. And then . . . then I’m gonna wreck you.’ I shut my eyes tight, trying to keep my breathing steady. That excitement rises in me, my body responding to his words and his voice. Around us on the busy street, people are walking, chatting, on their way to places. I desperately need to pee. The good news is I’m rock hard, which helps. The bad news is I’m rock hard and I’m wearing really tight jeans. My cheeks feel hot. I take a shaky breath. ‘Oh?’ I feel him step closer. ‘What’s this, hm? Did the promise of a spanking make you this hard?’ I open my eyes and meet his gaze. My eyes are wide. He smiles. ‘What’s the matter, boy?’ ‘I . . .’ I swallow. ‘It’s embarrassing . . .’ ‘What is?’ he asks. I don’t answer, not sure what to say. ‘Getting this hard just from me talking to you? Getting this hard in a public space? Man, anyone who looks in the direction of your crotch will see how hard you are in those tight jeans.’ I shut my eyes again and whimper. ‘Please . . .’ ‘Please what?’ I shake my head. ‘I . . . I don’t . . . I can’t move . . .’ ‘You can’t move? Why?’ ‘I . . . I really have to pee!’ He chuckles. ‘Does that make you hard too?’ There’s no use lying to him, so I nod, eyes still shut tight. ‘What do I do?’ ‘Well, doesn’t seem you have much choice,’ he says. ‘You’re just gonna have to pee.’ My eyes fly open again. ‘Here?’ ‘Good a place as any.’ ‘Someone will see!’ ‘If they see, they see. My car is over there.’ He points. ‘If you can’t get there like this, you’ll just have to pee first.’ ‘Like . . . piss my pants?’ He nods and I shake my head. ‘That’s gross!’ ‘Hm. Is it? Is that how you really feel?’ It is and it isn’t. It does feel gross, but the thought of it makes me feel so hot too. ‘I . . . I’ll try to make it to the car,’ I say at last, and I take a step forward. It’s one step too many and I lose control. ‘Fuck!’ ‘Potty mouth,’ he admonishes me. ‘That’s gonna earn you an extra spanking.’ ‘Ugh!’ I try to stop the flow, but it’s not working. He’s staring at me, his eyes moving down my body to the wet patch forming on the front of my jeans. They’ll be soaked soon if I can’t stop, if I can’t cut off the flow. In the end, I give up. I cover my face with my hands and sob, letting it happen. ‘Hm, dirty boy,’ he says softly when I’m all finished. ‘Let’s get to the car.’ I open my eyes and look around. No one’s watching me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean no one noticed a grown-ass man wetting his skinny jeans in the middle of the street. I let him take my hand and lead me to the car. ‘Won’t . . . won’t I stain the seats?’ I mumble. ‘They can be cleaned,’ he says. ‘Get in.’ I get in the car. It’s only a short ride to the apartment. When we get in, he pulls down my pants without ceremony in the hall, the sopping wet material hitting the tile floor with a wet thud. I’m still hard, but he doesn’t touch me, just looks at me. ‘So dirty,’ he says. ‘A man in his twenties who can’t even hold his bladder. Aren’t you ashamed?’ I stare at the floor, my face red, and nod. ‘Yes,’ I whimper. ‘Imagine if this had happened somewhere else. In class, maybe, in front of everybody. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?’ It would, and the very thought is making my cock throb. ‘I . . . please!’ I try. ‘Please what?’ ‘L . . . let me come!’ ‘Oh, is that it? You think you deserve that?’ He reaches down and runs his finger up the length of my cock. It’s almost enough to do it, but then he withdraws his hand and I whine forlornly. ‘Not yet, boy. I owe you a spanking.’ ‘B-but it hurts!’ I manage. ‘All the more reason,’ he says, a wicked grin forming on his lips. ‘Now come with me.’ He drags me into the bathroom, where he strips me and puts me in the shower. He rinses me off with hot water, then sits on the toilet and puts me over his knees. ‘I believe I owe you a spanking,’ he says, and then he smacks my ass, hard. I cry out. He smacks me again, and again. He’s not gentle or playful. It’s supposed to hurt. That pain is keeping me hard as steel, as he keeps spanking me. I’m sobbing, but he doesn’t stop. My cock rubs against the fabric of his jeans and I’m so close, but he’s told me I’m not allowed to come so I try to hold back. ‘Please!’ I manage. ‘I . . . I can’t . . . I’m about to—’ ‘No,’ he says calmly. ‘If you come, I’ll have to punish you more.’ And he smacks me again. I can’t stop it. My breath hitches in my throat, I sob, and then I come, spilling over his jeans. I immediately start to cry. ‘I’m sorry!’ I whine. ‘I . . . I couldn’t . . . I’m sorry . . .’ He sighs. ‘I’m disappointed in you. I thought you had more self-control. You should be ashamed of yourself!’ I am. I am ashamed. I’m ashamed at coming so easily. I’m ashamed that I like it when he hurts me. I’m ashamed that wetting myself made me this horny. And I’m ashamed that the shame itself makes me hot. I want him to humiliate me more. He lets go of me. ‘Get on your knees.’ I obey. I see the wet spot my cum made on his jeans as he stands before me. He unbuckles his belt, pulls out his cock. ‘Such a dirty, naughty boy. I’ll make you even dirtier.’ Then he takes aim and pees all over me. The scent is strong, potent. He’s been holding it for a while too, it seems. It gets in my hair, pours down my neck and face, shoulders, chest and back. Yes. This is what I deserve. When he’s finished, he grabs my chin roughly and tilts my face up. ‘Open your mouth.’ I do, and he spits in it. Then he strokes his cock a few times until it’s fully hard and thrusts into my open mouth. I take it. He thrusts in deep and I try to open my throat. I successfully fight my gag reflex and let him fuck my face. ‘I’m gonna come in your mouth,’ he says. ‘And you’re going to swallow it all.’ I grunt weakly in response, unable to speak or nod. It doesn’t take long. I swallow it all, just as he asks. When he pulls his cock out I’m panting and shaking and hard again. He pays no attention to my cock, but he pulls me to my feet, supporting my shaking frame as he leads me to the shower. He leaves me to rinse off while he runs a bath. He gets undressed and then we both get in the tub. He sits behind me, putting his arms around me, and finally he speaks again. ‘Good boy.’ I moan weakly. My cock is still hard, throbbing, but he hasn’t touched it so neither do I. He kisses the back of my neck, smoothes back my hair. ‘You did really well,’ he murmurs. ‘I’m so proud of you, boy. When we’re all clean, I’m gonna give you a reward.’ I nod weakly. I’m so tired, but also so horny. We stay like that for fifteen minutes or so and I nearly doze off. Then we get out of the bath and he towels us both off before leading me to his bedroom. ‘Get on the bed. Hands and knees.’ I do as I’m told and I feel him behind me. A slippery finger enters me, presses deep inside and massages my prostate. I whimper pathetically, pushing back on his finger out of pure instinct because I want more. He doesn’t punish me for that. This is my reward, after all. Then he pulls out his finger and replaces it with something much bigger. He pushes inside me with his big cock, filling me up, and I moan like a bitch. ‘Ah! Oh . . . f . . .’ He chuckles behind me. ‘You can say what you want now,’ he says. ‘Make as much noise as you like. There’s no need to keep it in.’ So, as he begins to move, I moan, ‘Ah, fuuuuuck!’ It feels so good, his big cock inside me, his fingers digging into my hips. He speeds up, fucking me hard, his dick brushing my prostate with every thrust until I’m shaking, shivering, my body on fire. ‘You gonna come on my cock, boy?’ he says hoarsely. He’s panting now. ‘Hm?’ ‘If . . .’ I swallow. ‘Am . . . am I allowed?’ ‘Yes,’ he whispers. He puts his hand between my shoulder blades, pressing me down until my head’s on the pillow, ass still in the air. He leans over me, bites the back of my neck. ‘Come for me like the little bitch you are.’ ‘Ah!’ I cry out and come untouched. He growls in my ear as my ass tightens around him. Then he grunts and stills for a moment before he starts pumping again. I feel him throbbing in there as he fills me with hot cum. He collapses on top of me and kisses the back of my neck. Then he rolls off me, pushes me over onto my side . . . and finally kisses my lips. It’s different from that drunken night weeks ago. His kiss is so gentle compared to everything else he’s done. So kind. I feel my eyes well up with tears. I’m so exhausted and overwhelmed. ‘Good boy,’ he whispers again. I breathe a shaky sigh. ‘Thank you,’ I mumble. ‘And grateful too.’ He smiles. ‘You’re perfect.’ I blink. ‘What?’ ‘I’ve been waiting for someone just like you. I could tell you to do just about anything and you’d do it. Wouldn’t you?’ I would. I’d do anything for him. I nod. He shakes his head. ‘Perfect.’ He strokes my cheek. ‘From now on,’ he says, ‘I decide everything. I decide when you get up and when you go to bed. I decide what you wear, what you eat, when you piss, when you shit. And I decide when you come. Understood?’ I nod. ‘I . . . yeah.’ ‘You will address me as “sir”.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I say automatically. ‘Good boy. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you need. Okay?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I say again, my face feeling hot. I’m terrified, but this is also what I want. What I’ve always wanted. What I’ve wanted from him ever since the first time he playfully slapped my ass and called me ‘boy’. ‘Should . . . should we have a safeword?’ I ask after a while. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks. I consider this for a moment. ‘No,’ I say at last. ‘No, then it wouldn’t be real.’ He shakes his head, an expression akin to awe on his face. ‘Like I said. Utterly perfect.’

Hi there. I've been off and on in this community for a few years. I've known since 18 that I like pee. I had something happen in my early life that probably triggered it (I'm not talking about it so don't go there) and I accept pee as one of many things that get me off. I am 24 years old. Adults should not be peeing their pants, yet here I am, cumming at the thought of it. Real or fictional, really. I love my sweet boyfriend (I'm female, bisexual). He might know I'm into pee? I haven't told him and I don't know if I will. I know he has a small bladder and he tells me when he's had to go before. Sometimes he comes out of the bathroom with wet drops on his crotch. He says it's from washing his hands but I think it has to be pee. I even have dreams at night where he's come to me wearing nothing but an adult size diaper and seemed okay with it. I have Tena diapers hidden away, and I'm too embarrassed to let him know that I sometimes wear them and pee whenever I want, and then play with my vibrator until I get off. Is anyone else out there into pee, and their spouse doesn't know? I can't be the only one out there. I love him and he loves me. He's someone I'd be comfortable having an accident around (but I DO NOT agree with involving others in your kinks without their consent), but I haven't. Though it's 4am where we live, I've had many drinks, and I'm too tired to pee in the toilet again. We need a new bed anyway and he knows I'm drunk tonight. Maybe... whatever happens happens, right?

I know the title sounds crazy but it's so far my favorite wetting video. vk.com/videos222370121#/videos222370121?z=video205959615_169449469%2Fpl_222370121_-2 Warning Contains nudity and a part where the chick sticks two fingers in the chicks ass but that's after the wetting so no worries.

I have a little doubt ... I would like you to help me answer it. There are many people who have foot fetish (Like me), and obviously, people who like to see girls peeing, or desperate, or both. The case is ... Is it common for people to have both fetishes? Because sometimes I find videos of actors or actresses who are barefoot for no apparent reason. P.S .: I would also like to know if someone here likes that, which for me is the perfect combination.

From what I found out about myself, I'm just into omo and anything pee related. But my girlfriend is only into wedgies. Both of us are able to satisfy each other's fetishes, but I think we can always do better and try to look up new methods for us to engage in our own kinks. For omorashi, holding for myself isn't that great, she's fine with holding since she kinda does it often in her daily life. When going about this kink, she fine with drinking fluids to make her go, but not much else. She usually stops me from trying to make the hold more interesting by doing physical contact like tickling, but only when she's getting close to her limit. Also, there isn't really much content for wedgies and so I don't really know how I could improve for her? If anyone here that is into the same kinks and could explain some cool tricks or ideas, that would be awesome!

I've heard that there's a difference between a "kink" and a "fetish" but I'm not entirely clear on what the difference is. Some say that a kink is based around an action whereas a fetish is based around an object. Others say that someone with a fetish needs that fetish to get aroused, but a kink isn't necessary but is nice. I'm not sure which of these are true or if it's a combo of both. I personally can get aroused without thinking of or engaging in omorashi-type activities, but I get much more aroused when I do. So do I have a fetish or is this just a kink for me? Some people get really picky about the distinction between the two so I want to make sure I'm using the right word. What about you guys, is it more of a kink or a fetish for you?

WARNING: This post contains mentions of BDSM and the kink world. Spanking, power exchange, and the like. This basically is like a bisexual person's wet dream, so I thought it might be worth recounting the story to everybody. I was thinking back to my last high-protocol kink event, and while I wasn't a member of Omo.org then, I think the event would have gone up most of ya'll alley (though I'm always surprised how few members of Omo.org are actually kinky as watersports/pee play is considered a type of hardcore play in most BDSM circles). These events were weekly and took place at a private residence of one of the more popular male dominants in the community. Rules were set up for various attendees depending upon how you identified - dominant or submissive. Submissives were required to be naked (unless approved to wear lingerie by the homeowner), not allowed onto the furniture, and required to serve food. To everyone's interests here on the forum, submissives were also not allowed to pee unless given permission by their respective dominants (or the homeowner if unowned) - and when they wanted to, they had squat over a bucket in the corner of the room and empty it when they were done. As you can imagine, this was particularly embarrassing/humiliating (which was the point), so a lot of submissives would hold onto full bladders, ask to pee, and then be denied for the dominant's entertainment. There were quite a lot of hissing pees and sighs of relief with shaking legs when men and women would relieve themselves in the bucket. This one particular night, the homeowner wanted to play with a couple of the women who had been attending. One of the women had been particularly squirmy during dinner and drinks, and before he started play, he asked if she needed to go. She said she didn't, so they proceeded to the play area. The basement was the play area. Like a lot of kinksters, the downstairs area had been somewhat soundproofed, and it was a large, relatively-clean, dark area with seating areas to watch, spanking areas, other specialized areas, and a giant empty room with a shower drain (this particular homeowner was a sadist and regularly needed a way to clean up large messes). The homeowner started his scene with all three women kneeling in front of him for playtime. He moved some of the spanking benches together to have all three benches touching each other. (For those that don't know, spanking benches are basically shaped like small picnic tables. Your knees go on the 'bench' part while you lean over the 'table' part. They're usually padded, well-made, made of leather, and include places to fasten restraints). With the woman still squirming, he fastened all of them into wrist cuffs as they presented their wrists. He made all of them climb onto the benches, and he used locks to fasten all of the women to their respective benches. At that point, he moved onto the scene itself - spanking, flogging, tickling, touching, etc. During all of this, the woman was getting particularly more squirmy. As her legs weren't restrained, at a certain point, she started crossing her legs at the ankles. I can't imagine how intense that must have been with her full bladder pressing against the bench while she was being spanked. Soon enough, she spoke up with a "Sir?" He wasn't particularly fond of being interrupted, so it earned her another whack as he asked her what the problem was. She kinda stuttered as she answered "I'm about to piss myself. Please let me up". At this point, again, he's a sadist, so she had his attention. He started teasing her about not being able to hold it with a false anger as he'd asked her before they started playing. The other two women were ignored as he focused his spanking and gentle tickling on her. She was getting even more squirmy, and her moans turned to more of tortured whimpers. Finally, she spoke up without any embarrassment or gentleness. "Sir, I'm about to piss all over your spanking bench if you don't let me up". She was very firm about it, and he laughed as he grabbed the key and started to unlock her from the bench in a relatively hurried fashion. As soon as she hopped up, she crossed her legs and started with a "noooo" noise as she hobbled towards the shower room. She had pee running down her legs and there was a bit of a noticable wetness on the ground. I could definitely hear her relief (though didn't see it) as I heard the splashing on the ground in the other room. She peed - a lot. There was a lot of moaning while she went. When she was done, the homeowner made her rinse off, dry off, and clean up her non-shower-room mess. She was put back onto the spanking bench and given extra punishment for interrupting the scene.