Search the Community

Okay, so here is the second occasion in my life where I've 'nearly' pissed myself. Whether or not this is a formal accident is up to you, but my lord was it close to being a far bigger deal.... I have at least one more story that involves me wetting my pants a bit on accident, though it's a little different. I'll share it a bit later if there is interest in it. If you want to read the first account I posted, there is a link to it a couple paragraphs down. This is the second story of when I almost pissed myself as a kid. It happened a few years after the first one. I was in either the 6th or 7th grade, so I imagine I was 12-14 at the time. It all happened in band class, during one of our after school performances. I had a close friend in band at the time, so I caught a ride with him. I remember being mildly uncomfortable that day, since we had to wear 'dress clothes,' something I was entirely unused to. Black trousers, a white, hot, long-sleeved dress shirt, a tie, and even this strange device called a 'cummerbund.' Why that was required of a middle school band class I'll never know. I'm pretty careful with my bladder, and I was a 100 times more careful in those days. I was sure to piss before I left, and I didn't drink anything that would cause me problems. Of course, I was a 13 year old boy, and it's not hard to make a kid forget about the gritty details, especially when his class is right across from the bathroom. When I arrived at the band room for our last rehearsals, there were snacks—and among those snacks the culprit of my last near accident: soda. Now, I'd learned from my previous soaked pair of briefs that soda was a drink of moderation, so I only had one.... At first. I was talking, we were doing rehearsals, and we were all there pretty early. So, I had another. Not a problem, though, the bathroom was right across the hall. By the time we were all making sure our ties and cummerbunds were on, I had to pee. I went into the bathroom with a ton of other boys and adjusted my clothes. The only problem was I wasn't the only boy there drinking soda. Every time a urinal opened up, it was taken by somebody. Had there been a line, I'd have joined it, but there wasn't a line. You had to assert yourself there when it opened. I was a bit shy, especially about bathroom related things, and I didn't have to go super bad at the time. It didn't help that far too many of us hadn't come dressed, so all the stalls were taken up with kids changing, and the band director was outside telling us to hurry so we had more time to practice our songs. So I returned to the band room and sat down. I sat there for quite awhile waiting for all the kids. Wave after wave of boys returned in their full outfits, while my urge was getting worse. Had I just waited in the bathroom, I'd have been able to go. I could have asked the band director, but surely I'd have a chance to go before we got on stage—and plus, he was... a little intimidating lol. Soooo, I held it. I played baritone and did my best like a good boy, though going through our set of three songs took some time—time that we did not have considering how close our stage time was. We were rushing through the last song, replaying hard parts instead of doing the entire thing at this point. Meanwhile, soda was rushing through my body. Not only could I feel my bladder now, but my piss was just... hard to hold. I'd deliberately avoided water to keep from needing to piss, and because of that, I had nothing but caffeine and soda in my body. It was a disproportionately bad urge. But no big deal, right? I'd have time to nip into the bathroom before getting on stage. When it came time to finally go, I remember being super frustrated with the band teacher. He was getting all anxious and pressing our rehearsal to the last possible moment. We were already a few minutes late by the time we were leaving the classroom with our instruments and chairs and music stands in tow. The stage was right across from us, literally a twenty second walk, but the bathroom was right there, in the hallway between the cafeteria and the band room, a 5 second detour.... But there was no time. I had to bring my own chair and music stand and promptly sit down. This is where things got difficult. My bladder was kinda full, but the real problem was the soda. I was having a really hard time keeping it in. It kinda felt like a bladder infection, but instead of pain, there was a constant nagging feeling in the tip of my penis. I kept telling myself I'd felt it many times before and it would be fine, that I wouldn't have an accident on stage—one of my absolute greatest fears—but this felt worse than usual. After all, I'd had two sodas after avoiding water.... Now let me spoil it for you right now: I didn't piss my pants on stage. If I had, this would be a far more embarrassing story to relate. But what did happen both surprised and terrified me. Sometime around the second song, I leaked. I actually, legitimately peed for a second. It was only a few drops, but it was a few drops. It happened on stage in front of like 100 people. And worse yet, I was trapped there, not sure if more was going to come out. Considering the circumstances, I think I managed to hold things together fairly well for the end of that song, and for the third song, which was by far the longest. When the third song ended and we were told to grab our stuff and bring it back to the band room, I whipped around to look at my seat. Much to my horror, it was wet. Then I patted my butt, which seemed.... dry. I took a moment to thank God it was just sweat. I grabbed my stuff and followed everyone else to the band room. Now that I was standing and walking, the urge was far easier to manage, but I still glanced at the bathroom with some longing as we passed it. Back in the band room, things took awhile to situate, but I can't imagine anything notable happened, since I don't remember this brief time well at all. There is a possibility I drank more soda with the thought in mind I was in the clear and had not peed my pants, but looking back at the event, I doubt it. However, what I did do was drink a ton of water. I'd wanted very badly to use the toilet, but some idiot had locked the bathroom door. I could have gotten the band director to use his key to unlock it, but my friend's mom was waiting on us... and really, the problem wasn't a full bladder. It was full. I mean, it was very full, but I lived like five minutes away from the school. I could hold it. The problem was my dehydration. So I drank more at every water fountain on the way, forcing myself not to pee dance whenever we stopped. I don't remember exactly why, but leaving took some time. I believe my friend's parents were chatting it up with the band director and what not, and I think my friend's sister might have been there talking to her old teachers. In any case, it took a bit of time, just long enough for that water from before to start making it's way through me. By the time we reached the car, it took just about everything I had not to show how badly I had to piss. I mean, I was 13, I wasn't going to piss myself or anything, but I did really, really, really, have to go. Whenever I felt like nobody was looking, a squirmed a bit. Not quite a pee dance—I refused to do something that embarrassing—but it was definitely getting difficult to stay still. My pee wanted to come out, and soon. When I finally sat down in the back of my friend's mom's minivan, my bladder was about to pop. The shock of the new position made me jolt. I sat there for the whole, thankfully short, drive with my legs close together, trying not to move too suddenly and trying to keep my very tentative control intact. We had a series of yuge speed bumps outside the school, and I remember tensing up with each one. I thanked God when we hit the last one. Piss felt like it was in my genitals, like it was right at the edge, ready to just start spraying everywhere. Had there been another speed bump, there's a strong chance I'd have pissed—my boxers felt a tiny bit damp after the final one, but I hadn't felt anything come out. Not a good sign. I honed in on the sensation of wet fabric on the way back. I squirmed a little, which mostly consisted as shaking my leg very lightly for a second, since I was too scared to do anything else. The whole ride I was praying that his mom would hurry. I was barely holding on, and it wouldn't have done any good to have told them. I mean, it might have, actually, but in my 13 year old, shy brain, I didn't want anyone to know I had to piss. I didn't want them thinking about it. We arrived at my house soon. I casually got out of the van and said bye, and walked to the door. My stomach started to tighten, just like it had at camp. His mom stayed in the driveway until I got the door open, and made it safely inside, so I still could not dance, and the stakes were higher than ever not to start pissing, since I had a pair of headlights shining directly on me. Even from the side in black pants it would be hard to hide a sudden waterfall of liquid running down my legs and possibly cascading forward or backward. I opened the door and walked inside. Normally I”d have gone to talk to my mom but there was absolutely no time left. I had to piss so bad it was all I could think about, and to make matters worse, my stomach muscles were tightening even more. I dropped my baritone on the floor and powerwalked toward the bathroom. Any normal kid would have ran, but I was too shy for anyone to see me doing that. I remember praying no one was in the bathroom, and even wondering for a split second what I would do if someone was. When I asked my brain, there was a blank spot as an answer. 'I would just go pee outside' appeared in my mind for a moment, even though I knew deep down there wouldn't be time for all that. There was only one possibility if that door was closed. I would stop in front of it and start squirting piss into my boxers, and I'd likely lose control within seconds. So I walked faster, my bladder muscles getting tighter and tighter, my lower body starting to push against my weakening muscles. I was thinking this was impossible, that is couldn't be happening. I was still in pants, not even in the bathroom yet, and I could barely hold it. I was seriously about to start pissing all over my pants and the floor just like when I was 5. My actual best case scenario was just making it. Thankfully (or sadly considering this forum lol), the bathroom was free. I rushed in, ignoring mom who immediately asked me how it went from her room directly across. I closed the door, embarrassingly slamming it a bit in my rush. It was the camp experience all over again. My stomach was getting tighter, piss was dribbling into my underwear as I struggled to undo my belt. Thank God the cummerbund has been removed and forgotten at school. I didn't even have time to lift up the toilet seat. The moment I got my belt undone, my bladder released. It took only a heartbeat for my piss to accelerate into a full speed stream. My eyes widened with utter shock. It was happening; I was pissing my pants. I undid the button with Apollonian speed and slipped my already pissing member out, trailing piss against my boxers and getting some on the front of my pants as I did it. I aimed straight in the middle of the bowl, driblets of piss splashing up onto the seat from the ocean surging out of me I felt a droplet of piss running down my leg. It was only one leg, thank god, but it was not at the thigh, it was all the way down by my calf. While pissing, after I'd gotten over the orgasmic pleasure of relief, I looked down. The crotch and a bit of the side of the thigh area of the thankfully black pants twinkled in the light, but other than that, the accident was hidden. When I finished, I looked down into my boxers and saw a dark patch extending down my leg. What I did next I can't remember exactly. I either left the bathroom and went to talk to my mom, which in retrospect is a pretty embarrassing, because while it didn't occur to me at the time, she had to have known I'd had an accident, or least that I'd leaked a bit. She'd seen me rush into that bathroom, and worse yet had probably heard my fire hydrant style piss a millisecond after I closed the door—notably without the build up that usually happens when you don't start off in your pants. So if I did stand there and talk, she had to have known I was doing it after having wet myself a bit. The other possibility is that I shrugged her off somehow and retreated to my room. In any case, when I was alone I promptly removed my wet trousers and tossed them to the floor. I inspected my dark blue patterned boxers closely, and found a dark spot spread wide across the left half, extending down to the thigh, and then reaching a bit further down the side. The damage to my pants was minimal, but the same could not be said of my boxers. Those were soaked. I took them off and tossed them to the floor with the trousers, hoping they dried by the morning. In any case, my mom never mentioned it to me.

These are awesome pull-ups, not because of how they fit, but because of how they make me feel. They are almost discreet enough that I would consider wearing them while changing in a public change room. The only problem if course is that as soon as you remove them, it’s a dead giveaway that they are a diaper/panty and pad system. So it would have to be a change room where you are changing clothes and not undies... But logistics and mechanics aside, there is something about the diaper that is trying very hard not to be a diaper, which I find very sexy. Big poufy diapers are very obviously diapers, and Goodnites and other pull-ups, regardless of how many cute pictures they put on them, will still always be pull-ups/diapers. My metric I suppose is that if you went to a sleepover and someone saw you wearing any of these things, they would immediately know that they were diapers, and that they were for bedwetting. I’ve got a lot of complicated feelings about this kind of diaper, many of which lead back to actual sleepovers and trip experiences where I wore Goodnites in crowded rooms with other girls, with nothing but a pair of huge panties and large PJ bottoms covering up my diaper from the world. Does anyone remember when Goodnites came out with those sleepshorts? The pink and blue super cheap feeling ‘paper’ shorts that scarcely concealed a diaper portion? My mom got a pack of these when they first came out, I must have been in jr. High or early high school, and we only ever tried one pack. They were ridiculous (and leaked and tore). But I did like the idea that they were not trying to be a diaper. I could imagine myself being at a sleepover and almost just wearing the shorts and saying things like, “yeah, these are my sleep shorts.” I suppose one of the reasons I like diapers that try very hard not to look like diapers, is that you know what they are, and this little secret gives you power against the world, and control of the situation. Because they are discreet (or trying to be, depending on the diaper), and few will notice that they are a diaper, you can flick on and off the switch in your head that says “You are wearing a diaper in public and people can see.” This level of control of a situation to me is empowering. You can switch on ‘embarrassed mode,’ and get the full blast of complicated feelings that come with embarrassment, but you can also turn this mode off and go about your day. Control is sexy. So is consent. Ok, on to today’s adventure, though I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this. I found a bunch of Goodnite TruFit’s in my diaper box the other day and have been dying to wear them. I find them a little tighter than usual Goodnites, particularly around my thighs and I don’t really like to spend the night in these, they are just not that comfortable. They seem to breath less than regular Goodnites and it’s been getting hot. Plus, I can wear anything to bed, and it’s not a big deal. Plus I’ve been wearing protection to bed every night since November, and only recently stopped, so I wasn’t keen on doing it again for fun. But the TruFit do offer other possibilities. So the other day I slipped on a pair, or rather pulled on a pair, taking care to stretch the leg holes out just a little bit more, as they are not built for womanly legs. I chose the polka dot ones because polka dots. Here are a couple of pictures I snapped of myself in Trufits, as people are always asking for pictures of my in my panties, rather than just picture of them wet on the floor. By the way folks, if you want to see more pictures, you can purchase my panties, Trufit included, from my website, it’s also a nice way to say thank you if you’ve gotten off to a bunch of my writing. See you almost can’t see the padding, and even then, it could be a thick period pad. They definitely don’t look like diapers. And here’s the thing, if you were at say a sleepover, if anyone saw them and knew what they were, they would also likely be a bedwetter. And yes, I realize that this isn’t necessarily the case, they could have seen an ad or have a younger sibling, but this is definitely what I would have told a teenage Rachel wearing these to a sleepover. Changing in these in a public changing room, one could also use that rationalization, but it would also be likely that other women would know they were Goodnites because they used them for their kids, less so themselves. Anyhow, I pulled the TruFits on, and put on a slightly-shorter than knee length skirt. It’s been super warm out lately (and cherry blossoms are everywhere, Vancouver is beautiful this time of year), and it’s becoming skirt weather. I also chose the skirt because it does leave ones ‘panties’ slightly more exposed. When I was growing up, and on the occasions where I’d wear pull-ups to school our out in public in general, I’d always take several precautions: - I’d almost never wear a skirt, much less one this short. Long dresses were great for concealing diapers and had the added advantage of not having waistband issues. - I’d typically wear loose fitting trousers/jeans, and a big pair of panties over top the pull-up, for ease of changing and to cover the noise and waistband. Today, I did none of these things. It was just a thin layer of grey pleated fabric between my diaper and the world. I wasn’t working this day, so I decided to go out to the park and read in the sun. I’ve been getting a lot more reading done now that the weather is better and this is kind of my idea of the best afternoon ever. So in the morning I puttered around the house doing housework, and even used the toilet to pee a couple times. These ‘panties’ are still a diaper, and you are aware of the thickness of the padding in them, and the gathers and leg elastics were a little tight against my skin. After a quick lunch and a huge glass of ice tea, I grabbed my purse, a full water bottle, a good book, a light jacket, a sun hat, sun glasses, my bike helmet, and headed out to the park. I opted for a more wild park a little further from my home, and ended up biking over. Perhaps the odd motorist could see a flash of purple as the wind made my skirt flutter? I highly doubt it, but this is the level of exhibitionism with which I’m comfortable. Once I got to the park, I found a nice picnic table and set myself up for a good long read. I read for about an hour before my bladder reminded me that I had drunk a bunch of iced tea before leaving home. I let my bladder fill to about a 7 on the old desperation scale, before relaxing and releasing it entirely into the Goodnite TruFit. Before I did so, I moved my skirt out from under my bum, just in case there was a leak. Wetting a diaper in a skirt is an incredibly forgiving act, particularly if you are standing or sitting in the correct way. I could have been wearing regular big girl panties and the only thing which would have given me away would have been the growing puddle under me. I could have waited longer, but I find it hard to read when I’m super desperate. The TruFit doesn’t quite absorb pee as quickly as regular Goodnites, and the soft pad inside them (which is a little hard to get in), feels softer but also bulkier than regular Goodnites. I could feel the pee flooding over my girl parts deliciously. I didn’t quite like how it stayed on my skin for so long, but I did enjoy the feeling of feeling the pee slowly be sucked into the thirsty pad. I sat there and read for another 30 minutes wearing my soaked Goodnite, but I started to feel a little wet and uncomfortable, and because I was sipping from my water bottle in the hot sun, I soon had to pee again. Now one of the new Goodnites can take a full Rachel bladder laying down, but these TruFits can hold a decent amount, but I don’t trust them with two full bladders. While it would be easy to pee them and have them leak, I wasn’t quite in the mood to try. I was more revelling in the feeling of wearing a wet diaper discreetly in public, and the tightness of the TruFits themselves. Because of the seal the tight elastics cause on the legs, you do feel like you are wearing plastic panties and the you could soak them and all that would result would be a bubble of warm pee held against your vulva in tight plastic – delicious. As my bladder approached a 5, I got up, and walked to a nearby rec centre. It was the closest public washroom I could think of which wasn’t one of the ones in the park, which I find horrible and frightening. Feeling the warm wetness of the Goodnite under my swishing pleated skirt felt nice. I felt like the TruFit make my butt look a little big (see above) but not necessarily in a bad way, and under a skirt, a lightly bigger butt felt nice. I sauntered into the rec centre, and went straight for the ladies room. I pulled down my ‘panties’ and sat on the toilet to pee. Pulled my panties all the way down to around my ankles, just so that if someone did see my feet and panties under the stall door, they would see that I was wearing a ‘diaper’ or at least not ‘big girl panties.’ Again, my very subtle form of exhibitionism. I then slipped them right off and after drying myself and rubbing the skin where the elastics had left red lines around my thighs, I snapped a couple of pictures for you. As you can see, the pad got pretty wet. I was rather impressed at how you can clearly see how the pad whisks away the wetness from top to the bottom. The ‘this side down’ label really is important. Feeling inside the Goodnite, I found it to be mostly dry and I wiped it down with some toilet paper just to be sure. I left the rolled up pad on top of the toilet paper dispenser absentmindedly, along with the panty portion of the TruFits. As I was snapping these pictures I came to a startling realization: I had completely forgot to bring a fresh pad for the Goodnites! I now had a couple of options: 1) I could go commando. But there was no way! I was after all, riding my bike home and wearing a not too long skirt. I am not the kind of girl who goes commando, plus, 2) I could slip into the emergency backup panties that I always have in my purse. As most of you will know, I always have a plastic baggie with a fresh pair of panties in it just in case. 3) I could wear theTruFit home without a pad. This wasn’t too appealing as the inside of the TruFits are pretty plasticky and it would be super sweaty and uncomfortable, particularly on my bike. 4) I could put in a different kind of pad into the TruFit. I decided to try the latter. So I rummaged around in my purse for a pad. I couldn’t find one, which was a bit of a surprise. There was a super thin panty liner, but this would be like putting a Band-Aid inside the TruFits, and about as absorbent. So I flushed, rummaged around in my purse for some change, and leaving it hanging on the door of the cubicle I scurried out to the pad dispensing machine to buy a pad. The washroom was a relatively large one, with 6 stalls in it and people coming and going. While I was at the machine I caught out of the corner of my eye another woman approach my stall and pushed the door open to go in. I quickly turned and casually blurted out something like “Oh I’m using that one, I’ll just be a sec,” while I retrieved a pad from the machine. The woman mumbled an apology, looked at me a little strangely, and then moved over to another stall. I went back into my stall, and to my horror saw the very obviously wet TruFit pad sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser, with the TruFit panties sitting on top of them! While TruFit panties might look like real big girl panties when they are being worn, they certainly don’t sit on things like big girl panties. The internal gather structure causes them to stand up, so they maintain their form. The woman must have surely seen both the pad and panties! I was horrified and my heart rate jumped up. I closed the stall behind me, pulled my ‘panties’ down and sat on the toiled to calm down a little bit and also to revel in the feeling a little bit as well. I unwrapped the pad, and stuck it into the TruFits. I contemplated things and decided to pull them off to take a picture of the pad in them. It looked lost inside the waterproof purple plastic interior of the TruFits. I snapped a couple of pictures as I was certainly going to share this little adventure with my kinky friends. I even ‘accidentally’ dropped the TruFits on the ground, so that they might be visible from outside the stall. This is basically what the lady would have seen when she opened the stall! Anyhow, I calmed down, pulled the TruFits on again, opened the stall, and without looking around, washed my hands and made a quick exist. The ‘panties’ felt less comfortable with the tiny pad in them while I cycled home. By the time I arrived home the water from the water bottle, which was all but empty at this point, had worked its way through to my bladder and I was once again at about a 6 or 7. While standing in the elevator therefore, I relaxed and released my bladder into the TruFits. I could feel the pad getting overwhelmed by the pee, and quickly stopped. My bladder was fuller than I thought, and after 10 seconds of peeing I could feel the pad becoming overwhelmed. I had no desire to pee the floor of our buildings’ elevator, or run into any neighbours with pee running down my legs, so I bore down as best I could and stopped the flow. I could feel a large wet bunch of pee sloshing about my ‘panties’ as I walked down the hall to my apartment. I was afraid to bend over and take off my shoes, lest the large amount of pee in my ‘panties’ splash out all over my carpet, so I went straight into the bathroom. Once safely in the bathroom, I released the rest of my bladder. I could feel the TruFit filling up. It was holding all the liquid in, for the time being, and so my lady parts were suffused in wetness completely. When I shifted just a little bit, a cascade of pee overwhelmed one of the gathers and flowed down my leg. Bending slightly to pull the TruFits down, had a similar effect. I got them off, but I ended up leaving a considerable puddle on the floor of my bathroom. This is what I found when I very carefully pulled my TruFits down in the washroom. As you can see, the pad was sodden, and the gusset area of the ‘panties’ was basically just pee. More pee leaked all over the floor when I stepped out of the TruFits. My socks and shoes were just a little wet. My legs were soaked with pee and my vulva was quite literally dripping. The puddle I left on the floor was so big that I had to use a random pull-up from my collection to soak it all up. I spilled pee all over the floor when I picked up the TruFits to empty the significant amount of pee that remained in them into the toilet. Inverting them didn’t work very well, as the pee just got caught in the upper portions of the waterproof pocket which holds the pad in place. So I had to wring them out. I hung them up on the shower to dry, before drying myself off with a towel. I would have showered but I was too excited and made a beeline for the bed, where I masturbated myself to a warm wet climax. My husband was not a little surprised when he came home to find my TruFits still drying on the shower.

Did not make it to the toilet in time, sans padding. It was so warm as it soaked my middle and bottom. Now, I’m cold and needing of a shower.

View File Hot Poison Accidental, Toilet, and Outdoor Pee *ALL CONTAIN NUDITY* More from my collection, this time from Hot Poison. As with most of my files, this model has got a lot more videos in the poop category, so look her up if you are into that. Video 1: "Accidental" Leaking Video 2: *REMOVED* Uploaded already by despholder! I didn't mean to steal! I'll put a link to original file ~ :0 Video 3: Park Pee *As far as I can tell, this was not on the "Do Not Upload" list, but please feel free to remove it if it violates anything, I won't be offended! :)* Submitter BPendonic Submitted 05/15/2018 Category Peeing  

This is why I need to wear protection (unless it is my day off and I am feeling naughty).

I went to the massage parlour today. As of late, I’ve been having urge incontinence issues, which mean I have sudden urges that can lead to some big leaks. I wear Poise Thin Maximum pads durning the day and Always Discreet underwear at night, though there have been bigger leaks that have been testing or defeating my protection. Like someone who is not willing to admit they have a bigger problem, I wore a pad to my massage session. I also decided to not go pee before my session. About 40 minutes in, a sudden urge hit me. I needed a toilet immediately. The issue was that I was lying face down on the table while my masseuse was working on my arm. In the time it took me to say “I have to go to the bathroom,” my time was up. I stared leaking full force onto the table. ”Oh my god. No...” She dropped my arm and asked, “Are you going?” ”...yup...” The worst part was that I leaked for like 7 seconds and was completely unable to stop it. It felt good in the release, as warmth spread out from my crotch and soaked through my jeans. Moments like this can be both arousing and horribly embarrasssing. I wrapped the blanket around me, as I was topless, and moved to sitting position, red faced and teary eyed. My middle was completely soaked, my pad was filled, and the sheets and padding on the table were also wet. ”It’s okay. The table is water proof.” But my freaking clothes weren’t! I was soaked to the point that there was no hiding my shame. I had a dry pair of panties and an extra pads, but that didn’t dry my jeans. I apologized profusely and might have cried a little, but my masseuse said that she’s had other clients have accidents during sessions and leaned in close to let me know that she had issues sometimes too. I wore a long jacket today so I was able to wrap myself up to dash for the toilet. However, someone was just leaving, so I had to keep my eyes away as I hurried in to try and dry off. My masseuse knocked and had brought me a towel (which was awesome of her). I dried as much as I could and went to leave. There is a check-out process and I was leaving 5 minutes before my session was supposed to end (in wet, peed in jeans). I did the check out and the lady up front asked if I was okay. I was again saved by my stellar masseuse, who came out and played along like everything was cool. She patted my back and said everything was good. I scheduled for next month, left a 30$ tip, and hurried home. I was too mortified to consider taking pictures. Yes, diaper wearing friends, you told me so...

As most of you will know by now, I’ve had a recent resurgence of my overactive bladder (OAB) over the past few months. As a result, I’ve been having significantly more accidents than normal. For the past three years, any wetting accidents (other than ones planned and for fun), have been largely limited to: Stress leaks, as a result of big sneezes, working out hard, jumping and landing too hard, all on a full or mostly full bladder. I’ve had these all my life and they are entirely manageable, as I can pretty much predict them and take countermeasures. For example, I’ll wear a pad all the time during that one month in Vancouver when I’m suddenly allergic to something in the air and suffer from lots of sneezes. If I’m going for a jog, I always wear black running shorts (or tights) which conceal accidents and leaks very effectively, and if I’m doing some serious impact stuff (and lazy Rachel hasn’t for a while now), then I’ll pop a pad in my panties. I’m also going to invest in a cute running skirt, as this will cover up leaks even better and I loved a tennis skirt I recently got to wear and wet for a customer. Despite these measures I do have the occasional unpredicted leak, caused by a hearty laugh, an unexpected impact, sneeze or that sort of thing. Fortunately, unless my bladder is bursting, these accidents typically only result in a large wet spot on my panties, which seldom shows through my clothes. I’ve learned to live with these very occasional occurrences by always packing a spare pair of panties in a Ziploc baggie in my purse, and not getting in the habit of wandering about, far from washrooms, with a super full bladder. I can still trigger one of these accidents, rather easily it would appear (given the fun I’ve been having with pads lately), and they are pretty similar. I should point out that on a super full bladder, the accident can be more serious, as I have difficulty stopping once I start, and once triggered by a stressor, my bladder can release a decent amount when full. Fortunately I’ve not had one of these accident in many year (though I came close on Black Friday…) Very rare bedwetting incidents. Prior to November, I had maybe two or three of these a year and they were all triggered by my going to bed with a pretty full bladder after drinking wine (or other booze). I’ve been adulting a lot lately, and not had occasions to do a lot of heavy student-like drinking, and as a result, my bed (and husband) were keeping dry. Even when I had been drinking, I would almost always put on protection before going to bed (almost always a Goodnite) and if I was too forgone to remember, my loving husband would often help me out. Up until November, these were the only issues I had to worry about, and they were not serious. However, in November, I wet the bed, on a random and non-party night, and then started getting more OAB symptoms. These included more wet nights, even after countermeasures (like reducing fluids, double voiding, avoiding some foods and that sort of thing), as well as some key-in-latch leaks and more serious accidents, and surprise urges that would cause me to need to rush to the bathroom ‘right now!’ some of which have resulted in those key-in-latch accidents. I grew up with these symptoms, and am very familiar with them. Growing up, we tried all sorts of things, so many that I won’t go into the list. I also think my mind fetishized wetting and diapers as a partial coping mechanism, though I’m sure there’s some more complicated psychology going on behind the scenes as well. Nothing much worked, apart from one medication, which I only used when I was travelling due to uncomfortable side effects, and which only really reduced the size of my night time accidents and the number of random urges I’ll got during the day. Then, when I was just graduating as an undergraduate, a new treatment emerged, which uses Botox injections into the overactive bladder muscles, thereby calming them down (to use totally non-technical terms). Well, we tried this, and after a really uncomfortable and embarrassing procedure, and a couple of weeks, it worked! I can’t say how happy I was! I went off to grad school, lost my virginity, slept over with boys, travelled around the world, had my heart broken, got married, and all sorts of things. Things I would have never done if I’d been wetting the bed each night, and having daytime urge issues. Well, the treatment is only expected to last 3 years or so. The Botox only calms the muscles down for so long. Well more than three years ago, I was in the early stages of my relationship with my husband (who was then my like 4th boyfriend), and the symptoms came back. I won’t rehash what happened, as it’s covered here (First diaper cuddle), but to summarize, Rachel had to make the decision to either come out to her boyfriend and tell him about her bedwetting issues, or find a new boyfriend (or more likely be single until I could get another treatment). Well Rachel gritted her teeth and steeled her strength, and spent her first night laying next to her now husband, wearing a diaper. Anyhow that was well over three years ago, and I was getting happy with having a pretty typical bladder again (a very high number of women have some stress incontinence issues, so even this is pretty typical). November, though I should have been expecting it, kind of came as a surprise. Because I know the deal by now, I scheduled an appointment with my urologist after my 3rd wet night. Since my unexpected wet night, I’ve wet the bed at least twice a week, and over the past two weeks, I’ve been wet three to four times. I’ve been wearing Goodnites to bed every night, and these have been keeping my bed (and husband) dry. The new Goodnites will hold an entire Rachel bladder, unless she is bursting, in which case, they leak a tiny amount, but these little spots are almost always dry by morning. I’ve been doing all the necessary lifestyle stuff I mentioned before bed as well. During the day I’ve re-established my using the bathroom ‘just in case’ policy more often, and in the most recent weeks, I’ve been wearing pads regularly. As a result, I’ve had few serious daytime incidents, though I have had a good number of leaks necessitating panty changes and pad replacements, and a few bigger accidents (which I’ll tell you about, or already have). This is also a little annoying because I’ve been selling my used panties to customers and not all of them want panties which have been peed in, accidents have required me to wash the panties and start wearing them all over again. All of this hasn’t stopped me from enjoying my fetish, and as I’m using them more often, I’ve been on a bit of a pad binge lately. I’ve kind of been enjoying wearing protection to bed and cuddling the hubby. It’s winter and often chilly at night, and cuddling in a diaper is a lovely feeling. Waking up wet it much less enjoyable, but the Goodnite makes it as manageable as possible. Oh and on a random note, I’ve also been leaking a lot more during sex, meaning that we’ve been going through a decent amount of towels on a good week. So this has been the past two months for me, and the OAB issues have been getting gradually a little worse, despite the precautions I’ve been taking. I’ve been waiting for my urologist appointment for quite some time, and it’s the first step I need to take in order to get a referral for the Botox treatment. The waiting list to see my urologist is longer than the list to get the Botox treatment, so my hope has been to get the old bladder working before the end of February. In anticipation of the appointment, I’ve been keeping a voiding diary (and actually I’ve been using an App on my phone, which is more geared towards kids, but kinda fun. DryDawn lets me print off reports for my urologist and is kinda cute). Well this past Friday I finally went in to see my urologist. Now in the past, when I was visiting my urologist more often, I would often experiment, just a little. In the UK my urologist would make you do a flow test and ultrasound every appointment, even if they were only 3 months apart, so I started experimenting a little. This included wearing a diaper to one appointment, and even ‘planning’ an accident at another. It is wrong to include others non-consensually in your kink, but I felt like in this case it wasn’t the same, as these were things I would actually do normally. For example, the ‘planned ultrasound accident’ was really a recreation of a real accident I had had at an appointment when I was in high school. I don’t see my Canadian urologist nearly as often, and so the redundant ultrasounds and flow tests don’t happen. I considered planning another accident, as I recall the emotions associated with this accident a lot still when I’m masturbating and they very often push me over the edge. But I have already done this, and besides, due to the increased inconvenience of my recent wettings, and the rarity with which I see my urologist, I felt like this might be a distraction. Also, given my current bladder situation, I don’t think I could hold nearly as much liquid, and I would almost certainly lose control of the situation very quickly. So this urologist appointment was going to be all business, or mostly business. Leading up to the appointment I was concerned about leaks and real accidents. To do an ultrasound (and flow test) you are asked to arrive with a ‘comfortably full bladder.’ Now because, as I’ve noted above, a full bladder puts me at considerable risk of having a real accident when my OAB symptoms kick in, I struggled to come up with just what a ‘comfortably full bladder’ would feel like for me. These days, a full bladder might be physically comfortable, but leave me super nervous about accidents. I settled on the solution of wearing protection to the appointment, and to add a little thrill to the experience, I would wear a Goodnite, rather than a more mature-looking Always or Depends pullup, or a more discreet pad. Now I’ve worn protection to numerous appointments in the past. My history of having real accidents when wandering about with a full bladder, or when a doctor pressed a freezing cold ultrasound wand on my distended bladder, has taught me to do this. In the past I’ve worn bulky incontinence pads to appointments, and these have often necessitated changing afterwards. One I have worn a Goodnite to an appointment, and the technician did not bat an eyelid at them when they pulled down the front of my pants to do the ultrasound. But this was only once, and my heart was pounding the whole time. So, for Friday’s appointment, I decided that once again, I would wear a Goodnite to the appointment, and see what happened. I woke up wet and therefore started my day with a shower. So in preparation for the 1:40 appointment I kept well hydrated all morning and used the washroom several times. My morning two mugs of green tea went through me like a flood. I printed off my voiding diary and bladder stats, and checked some emails. At 11 am I got ready to leave, the appointment was across town and required some complicated use of buses and the Skytrain, and I didn’t want to arrive late. My plan was to arrive early and read a book in a nearby café before heading over to the office. Before I left, I changed out of the PJs I was wearing around the house, and into one of the owl-print Goodnites I love so much. Overtop I pulled a pair of my Little Mermaid boy-short panties (my cute green ones). I typically always wear panties overtop of diapers when I’m wearing out in public, this makes changing easier as you can just tear off the Goodnite, and also cuts down on noise. The panty waistband can also offer some added discretion if the panties are sufficiently large. I then pulled on a pair of light jeans. If I did have an accident, the Goodnites would almost certainly catch everything, however they leaked, I didn’t want to make things easier for me. I put a tank top over my bra, buttoned up a blouse and put on a nice jumper over top. I put on some makeup and grabbed my book, purse and phone, and headed out into the world around 11:30. Not bad prep time actually ;) I did have pads and my usual spare pair of panties in my purse, but did not bring a larger bag with say a change of pants. I used the washroom right before leaving the house, as I’d filled up during my preparations. I brought a small water bottle and some snacks as well. I therefore left the house in my Goodnite, I was filled with mixed and complicated emotions. I read my book in transit and was acutely aware of the diaper I was wearing. I’ve worn out in public tons of times, both for fun and out of need. Sometimes this seems like a normal thing and I quickly almost forget about the protection I’m wearing. Other times I’ll we aware of it all the time, and worry about leaks or peeks. Today, given what was going to transpire in the early afternoon, I was very aware of the protection I was wearing and made sure my larger jumper covered the waistband of my jeans when I moved about. The transit gods smiled on me, and I arrived at the general vicinity of the urologist’s office with lots of time to spare, it was about 1 pm when I arrived, and so I headed over to a small independent café across the street and ordered a large tea. My water bottle was empty at this point and I could feel myself filling up. I was at about a 4 on the old desperation scale; the point where I was comfortable, and would likely not use the washroom just in case, unless I was about to depart on a long car ride, or that sort of thing. I settled down and read my book for half an hour. At about 1:20 pm, I felt like I was would not be full enough for the appointment, and since I’d already finished my tea, I had a glass of water and I filled my water bottle from the water jug as well. I downed this, and was feeling to be about a 6 or a 7 when I got up at 1:30 pm and wandered over to the office to check in. Now the reason I didn’t fill up to the point of jumping about and/or needing to hold myself, was that despite the fact that I was schedule for 1:40 pm, I’ve almost never been to an appointment with a urologist that wasn’t running behind. It has something to do with the tests they do and other factors, but they never seem to be on time. My UK clinic had a sign that said “if your appointment is 45 minutes late, see the nurses at the front,” largely because people are regularly arriving with full bladders and 45 minutes was a typical, albeit horribly long, wait for the office. I signed in and the friendly woman at the front desk, who was about my age, maybe a little older, but who was wearing far too much makeup, confirmed my address, and asked me if I needed to pee. It’s always a little embarrassing to have a stranger ask you this, and I must have blushed a little because she broke eye contact, but I confirmed that yes, I did have to go. “We are running about 15 minutes late, will you be ok?” she asked. I thought about it for a little bit, but given my current situation, another 15 or 20 minutes seemed reasonable. I was feeling a little brave as well, and I thought downing my water bottle over this time as well. I confirmed that I would be ok, still blushing, and she directed me to take a seat. The waiting room was small and cramped. It constituted about 8 chairs around a small alcove (three on each side and two on the back), with a table strewn with magazines, OAB leaflets, and other brochures. There was a sad looking fake plant in the corner, and a water cooler near the entrance with little paper cups. The alcove is off to the right when you come in the entrance of the office, but no immediately to the right, this is the washroom, marked with a generic sign. The nurses/receptionist desk is off to the left with a hall leading into the examination rooms beside it. The reception desk is not too far from the waiting alcove and I nervously thought that everyone in the waiting room could hear our conversation, despite my hushed tone. I took off my jacket and grabbed a seat between two people. I looked around the waiting room, and there were a number of other people there. I don’t really recall all the details, but it was sufficiently crowded that I needed to take a seat between two people. I chose the seat in the corner on the right hand side, next to the sad-looking plant. To my left was an elderly woman sitting next to an elderly man. I assumed they were a couple, as they exchanged quiet words from time to time. To my right was a 40-something woman with who I assume was her daughter of 13 or 14 sitting beside her. Sitting across from me was an older man, maybe in his 50s or 60s, who was sitting in the middle of the three seats on this side. I felt more comfortable sitting between the two women. Walking in I smiled awkwardly at the other people in the waiting room but didn’t get much of a response. The young girl was playing on her phone (or some device), her mother was reading a magazine. The man across from me was sitting there waiting quietly, and the couple to my left were similarly waiting, though every so often one of them would explore the materials on the table. Everyone looked relatively relaxed, and by this I mean no one was sitting on their heel, bouncing up and down, or holding themselves. I opened my bag and removed my book, and continued reading. Every so often I would look up, distracted by a movement from a fellow patient. I deduced that the woman in the couple next to me was likely the patient, and that her husband was there for support. It was also not hard to deduce that the young girl was the patient brought by her mother (as otherwise she would have been in school). I commiserated with her, as I’ve been in her exact place before. I continued to read but was becoming increasingly full. Again feeling a little exhibitionistic, I decided that I would play at being a little more desperate than I actually was. I crossed my legs, and wiggled my foot. After about 5 minutes a woman in a long coat walked out from the examination room hallway, exchanged a few words with the woman at the reception, and headed out. A few minutes later a female nurse in her 40s walked out and spoke with the receptionist, and then called a name. The older man across from me stood up and followed her inside. I was now at about an 8 on the desperation scale and beginning to worry, just a little. It was a only 1:45pm, but given the number of people in the waiting room, I was expecting a longer than 15 minute wait. I was most worried about having a bladder spasm, as I was pretty sure I could last at least another 20 minutes without too much difficulty, and perhaps longer if need be, but if my bladder decided to send me an urge spasm, I was at the point now where I would likely only barely make it to the nearby washroom, if at all. I was also super nervous, my heart was pounding in time with my jiggling foot, and I noticed I wasn’t making much progress on my book. I bookmarked my spot, and decided to abandon my reading. I squeezed my legs together more tightly, and reminded myself that I was wearing reliable protection, and that I could always get up and ask to use the washroom ‘to relieve pressure’ if I absolutely had to. But this didn’t quite comfort me, I suppose my intentional desperate body language was tricking my brain into thinking I was more desperate than I was. The young girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve and whispered something in her ear, and her mother responded quietly back. The older couple sat in amiable silence. And I sat there, legs tightly twisted together, jiggling my foot desperately. This tableau continued for some time, until about 1:55pm (I checked my phone), when a different middle-aged female nurse came out and called another name. This time the older couple got up, and, after taking some time gathering their things, they followed the nurse in. As the waiting room emptied, I could feel eyes on me. I looked up and could see the receptionist looking my way, inquisitively. Glancing about I also briefly saw the eyes of the young girl staring at me, before they were quickly averted. I was still at about an 8.5 but my desperation was increasing significantly. I had to decide if I was going to hold myself or sit on my heel. I opted for holding myself, because if I did have a leak while sitting on my heel there was a very good chance that the Goodnite might leak. I carefully uncrossed my legs and keeping them tightly squeezed together. I was no longer play-acting desperate body language, I was honestly desperate. It was 2:00 pm and my appointment was nowhere in sight. I moved my purse to my lap to provide cover, and once it was there, I carefully moved my hand underneath and pressed two fingers between my legs. All the while, I could not keep my foot from jiggling. At about this time, another patient came in through the office door and checked in with the receptionist. This time it was an older man, probably in his 60s, and after speaking with the receptionist, he moved to assume the spot across from me. He smiled as he came into the waiting area, and made some comment about the weather. The woman and her daughter ignored him and had another whispered exchange. As a result, I felt like the comment was directed at me and that social pressure dictate that I respond (I was no longer reading after all). Not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to have a lengthy conversation, lest my desperation be audible in the sound of my voice, I gave a non-committal answer. He tried for conversation a second time, and this time cheerfully asked something like: “You been here before?” I wasn’t going to escape from this conversation that easily, and so, hand still surreptitiously holding myself under my purse, I made light conversation, or tried to. My foot was wiggling uncontrollably now, and I my legs were shaking a little. I responded something like “Yes, this is my first time to this doctor.” This is a new urologist for me, I’m relatively new to the city and I’ve usually gone to a clinic near our flat when I need medication or for general checkups. I went there in November to get a referral to a urologist, it’s really hard to find a family doctor in Vancouver, but the local clinic knows me pretty well. I feel more comfortable once I’ve had the same doctor a couple of times, I am always embarrassed by raised eye brows and probing questions from new doctors reading my file for the first time. The older man was giving off the vibe of someone who does not quite pick up on subtle social cues, like the curt answer I had just delivered, or perhaps he was super desperate and talking took his mind off of it. Either way, he pressed on. “I’m here because of the old prostate, never been to this kinda doctor before.” I’ve tried to capture his friendly but colloquial manner, also this is sort of an approximation of the conversation, it’s surprisingly hard to remember things when you are bursting. “So your first time too then.” He finished, which was not quite a question. I felt compelled to answer him, rather than give a non-committal ‘uh huh,’ but also not wanting to give this man my life story coupled with my medical history. “No, I’ve had a number of doctors, this is just my first time here.” I clarified. Now don’t forget, I was edging towards a 9 on the desperation scale, though I was still holding on at an 8.5, my hand offering whatever support it could between my legs, hopefully shielded from view by my purse. The padding of the combination of my jeans and the diaper I was wearing made my two fingers not as effective as if I’d been wearing a thin dress… or if my hand were inside my Goodnite. Unfortunately this would have been wildly inappropriate, but a girl can dream. At the edge of my vision I could see the girl and her mother exchanging more whispers. I was very preoccupied with my own situation, but I think I could see clear signs of desperation in the girl. “Oh,” he intoned, perhaps now picking up on my flat disengaging tone. But no, he pressed on. Who makes idle conversation in a doctors waiting room? “You been waiting long?” He asked, thankfully steering the conversation in another direction. “Um,” using this opportunity to press my thighs together more closely, which was hard given that my legs were shaking. I know that sitting sort of hunched over in this fashion is not the most effective way to hold your pee when you are super desperate, but it was the only position I could take given the type of chairs and my need to hold myself. Checking my phone required an awkward one armed maneuver into my purse. I looked at my phone and it said 2:08 pm. “Um not too long, maybe half an hour.” I replied vaguely, slipping my phone back into my bag. Fool! I should have pretended to check a message or something to escape the conversation. “Oh, that long huh? Well, you look like you need to go badly.” He observed in a tone that implied that he commiserated with my situation. I could feel my face burn as I blushed crimson. I was horrified. He must have noticed, as he let the conversation thankfully trail off at this point. I was pretty desperate, and I’m sure it was rather obvious, but there is something utterly embarrassing about a stranger noticing and pointing out these signs. I had the fleeting desire to deny the need to go, like a child caught holding themselves and bouncing about might do when confronted by an adult and asked if the needed to go. But I was too embarrassed, and still thinking clearly used this awkward moment to try to extricate myself from the conversation. At this point the girl whispered something else to her mother, who stood up, and made her way to the receptionist, where she asked a question. Probably the question we were all wondering. The receptionist responded in a voice that carried over into the waiting room, something along the lines of “It should not be much longer, no more than 10 minutes.” And then she said something else in a quieter tone and had a short, hushed conversation with the woman. My mind did some quick math and thinking. So 15 minutes, who did that apply to? Was it the estimate for the young girl and mother, and who was first? If I was first, and the receptionist was predicting 15 minutes, then I was likely going to be seen right away. But if they were going to be seen first, then did I have to wait another 20 to 25 minutes? How many technicians were they operating? If it was just one then it might take longer. If it was two, then surely I’d be seen shortly. My mind raced and this was nice, as it sort of took my mind off my growing desperation. I did take a moment to contemplate just going in my Goodnite, this was one of the reasons I had chosen to wear it, in case there were delays, in case I had a bad urge and couldn’t make it to the washroom on time, and also for the little thrill of wearing it in a situation where it would be seen. But I also was not sure about my ability to stop after having initiated a flow. And while the new Goodnites are pretty good and do hold almost a full Rachel bladder, I definitely had a full Rachel bladder at this point. It would likely leak. Plus sitting down makes leaks unpredictable. Not only this, but you are supposed to have a full bladder for these tests, and if I emptied my bladder into the diaper (or in the washroom literally next to me), I would have to wait for it to refill. Yes, there was the option of trying to half empty my bladder in either the toilet or my Goodnite, but I really didn’t think I could stop the flow mid-way through, it would be more like at the last quarter if I was luck. While all this was racing through my head, the man, perhaps realizing his social faux pas was rummaging around on the table for a magazine, and the mother and daughter were exchanging words in very hushed tones. I didn’t catch much at all, only a few snippets. But after a few more words, the girl handed her phone to her mother and walked around the corner to the washroom. I’m pretty sure I know what had been discussed. Clinics will always let you use the washroom if you are desperate to go, and they ask you to just release a little, to remove the pressure. As I was just discussing, this isn’t really an option available to me, but it is very common. Worst case of course you empty your whole bladder and then have to sit there for however long it takes to refill it using the little paper cups from the water cooler. It was 2:11 pm. With only three of us in the waiting area, and my inclination leaning towards jumping in the loo as soon as the girl returned, I finally spotted the first nurse walking to the receptionist. They spoke very briefly and there was a point. Then I heard my name. “Kirwan? Kirwan?” I pulled my hand out from between my legs and jumped up. This was perhaps ill-advised as it sent shocks of desperation through my abdomen. I hurried over, forgetting my jacket in the waiting room. “Yes, that’s me.” I gasped. “Ready?” Ask the kindly looking nurse. Like I mentioned, she was in her 40s, and had long black hair. She was a little over weight, but in a way that indicated that she’d likely had a couple of children. I nodded vigorously, and followed her down the hall. She made small talk as we walked. “Sorry we were running a little late… Would you like to use the washroom before we do the ultrasound? Just to let off a little pressure?” She asked kindly. “Better not,” I replied. Walking seemed to have reduced my acute desperation for the time being, and I felt like I had settled in to an 8.5. And then, feeling like some explanation was needed, and blushing a little, I added “It’s hard for me to stop once I get going.” “Oh that’s ok, we’ll be super quick.” She replied. “That’s the washroom for after.” She gestured towards a clearly marked door on our right. “And we will be in here.” She gestured to a room almost across the hall from the washroom to the left. The hallway continued along a ways and I noticed other doors and trolleys and baskets along the sides of the hallway out of the corner of my eye as we turned into the room. “So you’ve done this before?” The nurse asked. For some reason the rooms where they do ultrasounds always seem darker than they should, it’s a little strange. Anyhow, I was in no condition to observe the room too closely. The abatement to my desperation due to walking was gone, and I was at a 9. It wasn’t a ‘the pee is coming now’ kind of 9, but it was certainly a ‘you need to find a washroom in the next two minutes or it’s going to happen’ kind of 9. I concentrated hard on controlling my bladder. “Yeah, a couple of times.” I replied, almost not hearing her answer. “You can put your purse here if you like,” said the nurse, helpfully gesturing to a couple of chairs to the right of the door. I did so, and then hurried to the table. Knowing the process by this point, I undid the top button of my jeans. I lay on my back and rolled up my tops, revealing my naked belly. “Ok, so I’ll only scan your bladder now, then you can use the washroom, it’s all set up for your flow test. When you come back, I’ll scan for residual and do your kidneys, sound good?” She asked, while rolling the ultrasound machine over to the side of the table. “I really have to go.” I admitted a little panicky, and blushing just a little. For some reasons it’s easier to tell a medical practitioner these things, rather than say a random guy. “Don’t worry I’ll be quick.” She replied. “Would you mind undoing those a little?” She gestured towards my jeans. While I had undone the button, I had no touched the fly at all. They need to scan your full bladder for these kinds of ultrasounds, and this usually involves them having to pull down the waistband of your trousers. I am fully aware of this, having done a dozen or so ultrasounds in my day, and as I mentioned, would almost always wear a pad to these tests, and a pair of panties which look dignified, so not my adorable little mermaid panties. Today I had broken both of these practices, and was wearing green Little Mermaid panties overtop of a Goodnite. Not quite caring at this point, but also getting a secret exhibitionistic rush, I undid my fly, and pulled it all the way down. And for good measure (and to avoid getting the ultrasound goo on my jeans), I shimmied my pants down a little, wiggling my bum. In so doing I revealed the top inch of the waistband of the Goodnites, and the top portion of my panties. The Little Mermaid emblem is on the bum of the panties, so this was not visible, and they would appear to the casual observing nurse, to be a normal pair of green panties. My desperation was a powerful all-consuming force at this point, and I considered just releasing. Wetting a Goodnite while laying on your back is one of the safer positions in which to flood it. It is when you lay on your side that you have to worry about leaks. I decided to hold on until after the test, as I could make it, if it happened now. The nurse pulled out a piece of thin paper and, pulling the waistband of my diaper and panties down a little ways, tucked it in, she tucked in a second piece of paper next to it. “This will keep your …” She paused, and then quickly re-phrased, “This will stop the gel from getting on your clothes.” I was blushing in the low light of the room. My heart was pounding and I could feel my adrenaline rising. This was that exquisite exhibitionistic thrill suffuses my body in panicky energy. My diaper was obvious. She has clearly seen the upper purple waistband of the Goodnite, and had been about to say something like ‘keep your underwear or clothes dry’ or something like that, but had quickly stopped herself. I was not imagining things. I couldn’t help but close my eyes for a moment. And I only opened them when I felt the warm gel being rubbed all over my belly. I remember when the gel was cold, but at some point in my lifetime of bladder issues, a genius had added a gel warmer to the ultrasound trolley. I, and probably millions of women (and men) are thankful for this, I’m sure. The nurse pressed the want into my bulging bladder. It was clearly visible protruding right above the thin paper, which covered my Goodnite, a round softball, crying out for release. I watched her move the wand around my belly, looking at the screen to her left as she did so. She pressed firmly with the wand, and I could not resist letting out a little gasp. Did I let out a few drops as well? I wasn’t sure. “It’s ok, almost done.” She intoned, sensing my growing desperation. The wand moved about over my stretched skin. Over and around my bulging bladder. The pressure from the wand was considerable, and pushed me into the 9.5-10 level of desperation. I don’t know if others have shared this experience with me, but at this point, when your body is ready to override you mental commands and release your bladder, you sometimes have difficulty actually peeing? Well this was what happened to me now. I felt an acute sharpness in my bladder and then, in a millisecond of panic, I relaxed my sphincter mentally. But it did not respond right away. It was as if it wanted to take some sort of victory lap after the impressive accomplishment of keeping me from an accident for so long. “All done.” The nurse said, whipping the gel off my belly with a scratchy piece of paper towel. As she removed the two pieces of paper from my waistband, I could feel a tiny amount of pee escaping into the Goodnite. Not a spurt, but a steady flow, only it was very thin, as though all of the effort in holding back my pee had really tightened up my urethra, turning my normal wide flow into a thin jet. I gasped a little, or moaned, I’m not sure which, but I made some kind of vocalization, and I’m not sure if it gave away my predicament. “Ok, I’ll get the commode set up for your flow test, can you wait another few seconds?” She ask. “I just need to push on button.” She added, moving over to the door and opened it. Had she closed it when we came in? She must have, but I didn’t remember. I didn’t bother to do up my button or pull down my sweater. I was tempted to hold myself to provide a final bit of support as I made my way to the toilet, now within my view. But I held off, this would only make pulling down my bottoms all the more difficult. Instead, I used one of my hands to hold my pants up, and followed her out across the hall into the washroom. All the while my bladder slowly released. She fiddled with the buttons attached to the commode for what seemed like ages, though it was probably only a second or two. The commodes that they use for these kinds of flow tests are like normal toilets with raised seats. Inside the toilet bowl is a sensor which detects how fast your flow is, and if there are any disruptions or that sort of thing. As I stepped into the washroom and with the toilet in sight I could feel the flow of pee jetting into my Goodnite widen just a little bit. Could I almost make out a faint hiss of pee hitting the material of the diaper? I was standing there staring at the toilet, my way barred by a friendly and helpful nurse. I blushing furiously, thinking she could hear me peeing myself. Stopping was not an option at this point. Though the flow seemed to be slower than normal. I still felt like my urethra was narrower than normal – letting out a thinner-than-normal jet of pee, though a jet of pee none the less. I was also thinking feverishly; trying to decide whether I should pull down everything, and risk getting my jeans wet, or whether I should just worry about the jeans and panties and fishing sitting on the toilet in my Goodnites, with the toilet catching the overflow (because this Goodnite was going to over flow, I could just feel it). I decided, and felt around with the fingers of each of my hands, feeling for the waistband of my panties. The toilet beeped. “Ok, all set,” The nurse stepped away from the toilet. Only a couple of seconds had passed. I was at the toilet in an instant. Still freely peeing into my Goodnite, in a fluid motion I pulled my jeans and underwear down, turned, and plunked myself down on the toilet. My body released and I flooded the Goodnite, suffusing my labia a hot wetness. “Come back over when you are done.” The nurse intoned from the door of the washroom. When she said this I was jarred from my reverie of relief and looked up to see her standing at the bathroom door. In my haste to get onto the toilet, I’d forgotten about privacy. I’d not given her time to exit the washroom before I yanked down my jeans and panties. She quickly turned and closed the door behind her. I was awash in emotions: The sense of blissful relief resulting from finally getting to pee. Pride, in having held on for so long, and for having made what I think was a good choice about not pulling down the pullup. And horrifying embarrassment at having pulled down my pants in front of the nurse, magnified because I had done so wearing a cute owl print Goodnite diaper. My heart was pounding as though I’d just done wind sprints or stairs, and my system was suffused with adrenaline. My original plan had been to get a little thrill of excitement from having a stranger see the waistband of my Goodnites, and also the fun of public desperation in a safe setting. I had not planned for the nurse to see my entire diapered bottom half, or to release right before reaching the washroom. I suppose if I’d thought through my plan, and given the current behaviour of my bladder these past few months, that a key-in-latch leak was likely, but I suppose I underplayed this. Or slightly miscalculated my fluids. Or the wait was longer than I had planned. Maybe I should have tried to release while back in the waiting room. That felt like hours ago. I could hear the tinkling sound of pee overflowing the Goodnite and dripping into the toilet. I reached down and pulled down on the gusset to allow pee to escape there. The tinkle was replaced with a brief fwoosh, and then resumed, as pee simply rolled off the Goodnites gusset and into the toilet. If I don’t do this, the seal of the gathers on the new Goodnites is so good that sometimes the pee will overflow up the back or up the front and escape along the upper sides of the absorbent section or even the top (if I’m laying down for example). I was not keen on getting my cloths wet, or having to wipe down the floor. The pee was warm against my fingers. I could hear the hiss of my pee as it overwhelmed the diaper. It is hard to recall just how long I peed for, given the strange stilted start, but it was certainly a good minute, probably a little longer. As I was finishing, I was rocked with another wave of panic. Remember a few moments ago when I had a vague sense of pride at having correctly decided that I should leave the Goodnites up to protect my clothes? Well I had forgotten that I was supposed to be doing a flow test. The whole reason the nurse had been in the washroom at all was to turn the machine one. Despite the fact that a decent amount of pee was dripping into the toilet from the overwhelmed Goodnite, I was not doing the test correctly. Most of the pee, had been absorbed into the Goodnite. At this point I was pretty overwhelmed by everything and gave a couple of large panicky breaths. I worked at calming myself down, still sitting on the toilet wearing the bloated and wet Goodnite. I hastily tore the sides of the Goodnite and carefully pulled it up the front. If you let the front flop down, it risks spilling unabsorbed pee everywhere, and I had not come this far to get my panties and jeans (still around my ankles) wet. Some additional pee dripped into the commode. I rolled the wet diaper up and put it on the ground beside me. It dripped a little. I reached for the toilet paper and carefully wiped and dried myself. This took several wads. I also used one to wipe my eyes. At some point a couple of tears had escaped. My heart was still pounding, and I was almost shaking from the adrenalin. Fully dry, I pulled up my panties and jeans, did them up, and then picked up the wet Goodnite and deposited it in the garbage which had been just out of reach when I was sitting on the toilet. Heavy with pee, it sunk into the paper towel there. I washed my hands and added another few flowers of paper on top of it. I wet down a wad of paper towel with cool water and held it over my face to cool it, as it felt like it was on fire. There was a knock. “Everything ok?” I heard the nurse inquire through the door. “Yes, thank you” I stammered, my voice breaking. I heard a shuffling on the other side, and moved to lock the door. I then spent a couple of minutes composing myself and taking deep breaths. I looked around the washroom finally. Apart from the usual stuff, there was the commode, and beside it a urinal. The top of the commode had a panel with buttons and a piece of paper, that looked a lot like a receipt from the grocery story, had been spit out. I’ve seen these before. The machine spits out a paper copy of your flow. I asked one of my old urologists about the purpose of the flow test many exams ago, and the answer is that they are looking for irregularities. People with prostate issues will start and stop and create peaks and valleys on the sheet. Those with trouble starting will have a certain kind of line. I looked at my sheet of paper, and saw a couple of little bumps and then a big hump, followed by a low and bumpy line. This would be wholly useless as a diagnostic tool for my urologist, not that I’ve ever had issues with flow. I wasn’t concerned about the diagnostic implications of what had happened, but I still could not think of a way to explain it to the nurse without dying of embarrassment. I had been in the washroom for about 8 minutes when I realized that I had filled up a little. In the past, when I’ve done these tests, if they test you and find that you still have more than a couple of mils of residual they ask for you to try again. Hoping to avoid this, I pulled my jeans and panties back down and peed for another dribbling ten seconds on the commode. I wiped and washed my hands. I knew I could not remain in the washroom for much longer without worrying the nurse, and still with no idea about what I would say, I took the little piece of paper with further evidence of my shame, unlocked the bathroom door, and walked across the hall to the ultrasound room. I saw the nurse down the hall as I did so. It looked as though she was talking to the receptionist. I entered the empty room and sat in the chair next to my purse. I heard the nurse walking down the hall, arrive at the intersection of the examination room and washroom and turn into the washroom. She moved around in there for a short while and then returned to the examination room. “Everything ok?” She inquired, even toned and professional but with a hint of genuine concern. “I… Um…” I was still not sure exactly how to explain what had happened. And opening my mouth didn’t seem to help. She quickly saved me the trouble by interrupting my stammering. “Don’t worry, the flow test isn’t necessary, it’s ok.” The nurse said comfortingly, reaching down and removing the piece of paper which I was clutching between two fingers. “I can take this.” I was grateful that she had cut me off before I began to explain. I’m still not exactly sure what I would have said. However, her cutting me off in this way indicated to me that she knew exactly what had happened (or close enough to it), having seen the first part and extrapolated. “All right, let’s scan you now that you are empty, can you hop back up on the table please?” She asked politely in a chipper tone. I stood up, a little apprehensive and once again undid my jeans button. I also unzipped them and shimmied them down a little before I crawled back up on the examination table. In case it wasn’t obvious to her before, it was clear that I had wet my Goodnite, or at least removed it. This time she slipped the two pieces of thin paper underneath the waistband of my panties, and went about slathering on the ultrasound gel. I made eye contact with her for a minute and she smiled politely and reassuringly, as only a good professional nurse can do. The second part of the test took considerably longer than the first part. She once again scanned my bladder, saying something like, “Good, residual is only Xmls.” Feeling like I had to chime in at this point, I gathered up my courage and added “I used the toilet a second time.” Though I could have provided more detail, I couldn’t bring myself to. “Oh that’s good,” she replied. I was then instructed to roll onto each of my sides so that she could scan each of my kidneys. She was very thorough. I lay there, heart still pounding but slowing a little, as she rolled the wet gel-covered ultrasound probe over my lower body. The kidney scan takes considerably longer, as they always look for issues and stones and the like, and I was grateful that this was (and typically is) done after you’ve had the chance to empty your bladder. She finished and wiped the gel off my sides. “Ok, I’ll just put all of this in your file and show you to the consultation room, Dr. Y will be with your shortly.” She informed me. The test over, I sat up from the bed, and hopped off. I pulled up and then did up my jeans, and went over to the chair by the door where I had deposited my purse. While I was doing this the nurse jotted some notes down in my file, and then stapled the little slip of paper from my ‘failed’ flow test into the coloured folder. I waited politely by the down, face downcast for a few moments while she completed her notes. She then got up from the little wheelie stool that she had been sitting on in order to do the test, and headed out of the room. “Just this way.” I followed her out and to the left down the hall. We turned once and then she showed me into a typical consultation room. “Just have a seat and Dr. Y will be with you shortly.” She informed me again, smiling at me kindly. I opted to sit in one of the chairs in the room, rather than the examination table, as I wasn’t expecting any kind of medical exam at this point. This was generally the part of the appointment where I simply talk to the doctor. In the past, when my doctor was familiar with my case and myself they would ask about my progress or success with a different medication we were trying, or an update. As this was a new doctor, I was expecting to have to rehash my medical (and more bladder) history with them. I had brought notes as I tend to forget the names of the different medications I’ve tried and significant dates and the like, and I had also brought my voiding diary (printed off from the helpful App.). I won’t recount the 20 minute consultation I had with the urologist, as I’ve actually rehashed most of my relevant medical history above, but I’ll add that the nurse and doctor did have a muted conversation just outside of earshot down the hallway before the doctor came in, and this made me blush a little. I was a little flustered all the same and the 10 minutes wait for the urologist to come to see me only permitted me to regain my composure to an extent. I was glad that I had brought my notes. Apart from a surprise question about UTIs which got me a little flustered for reasons I won’t go into, the conversation was pretty typical. I’m please to say that the urologist did give me a referral for another round of Botox treatment, and I am just waiting for this appointment, it should be in early March. I’ll report back on how this goes for those who are interested. After I got my referral, as well as a repeat of some advice about lifestyle changes I could make to reduce my symptoms, and a prescription for the medication I will occasionally take to reduce my symptoms further, the doctor walked me out into the reception area. I thanked them and smiled awkwardly at the receptionist whose expression I could not read, and I headed towards the door. Just as I was about to leave the receptionist called my name. “Ms. Kirwan?” She called after me. I froze, one hand on the door, not sure what would happen next. “Is that your coat?” She asked. I turned around and did an awkward arm gesture, in which I suppose I was feeling for the coat I was not wearing, realized I did not have it, walked back to the waiting room, and found my coast still on the back of my chair where I had left it hours(?) ago. I retrieved it, not really paying any attention to the three people in the waiting too, except to notice that the man and the woman and her child were no longer there. I thanked the receptionist, slipped into my jacket, and beat a retreat back to the SkyTrain. Outside the office I texted my husband to let him know that everything had gone ok, neglecting to tell him about some, or rather most, of the actual things that transpired at the urologists office. I think sending him this much writing in a single text might challenge his appreciation for smart phone technology, and well while I’m open about my medical issues and kinks with him, this isn’t exactly something I think either of us are comfortable discussing. I decided to treat myself to some food, as I’d not had much before the appointment. I found a nice place nearby, and as I worked my way through some sushi, my heart rate reached a normal rate. The complicated maelstrom of emotions associated with these kinds of embarrassing incidents began to roil inside of me. It would take a while for me to process all the emotions from today’s misadventure, to isolate the exciting ones from the terrifying ones. But what was clear was that I had some writing to do when I got home. Thanks for sticking out to the end of this, I realize that 17 pages is actually quite a lot of writing to tell a story that could have been told in a couple of paragraphs, but I suppose that it is cathartic to write this stuff down. I’ve got a whole folder of experiences I’ve had, with half-completed one dominating at this point, and it’s interesting to go through them and re-read some of the strange, embarrassing, funny, and exciting things I’ve got up to. Stay tuned for another update. Hugs, Rach

Does anyone else like to stay in the same diaper until it just can't hold anything anymore? I love that feeling.

I am currently in a medical program, and I am in a rotation studying Maternity. I study with mostly female classmates, which creates an atmosphere more conducive to "omo" subject matters. Anyway, today was a lecture about Maternal assessment, and care during labor. The subject matter concerns checking the mother's health condition during labor, ensuring maximal comfort, and assisting in proper technique for inducing labor. The lecture, and its practical portions have been interesting thus far; however, we are now 15 minutes from the cessation of a 2 hour lesson. Naturally, you would expect a good number of people to get desperate after several hours of sitting in one place, and indeed I could see several female classmates fidgeting. [An innate sense developed through years of this damn fetish]. It was clear that some were ready to run out to the bathroom, and yet nobody would budge in fear of missing an important detail. Well here's an important detail, we are about to cover the subject of breathing patterns and maneuvers aimed at promoting contractions via taking deep breaths while pressing hard on your abdominal floor a.k.a the worst nightmare of a bunch of bursting bladders. Just like every other technique we learn in lab, we all have to try it out to learn it. My instructor explains, "This first technique is a simple breathing technique aimed at relieving anxiety in the mother during labor. So try it out: close your eyes, take a nice deep breath in, and slowly exhale". Instantly, I get hard at the realization that this will make somebody need to pee more than they expected. Devious as I am, I did not close my eyes, and instead I kept an eye what was going on. As the girl brown-haired girl next to me took her second breath in, she threw her hand in her crotch and clenched her legs. Another girl adjacent to me placed her one leg on top of her other in obvious desperation as well. It was getting heated for me. The next and final technique was a valsalva maneuver. My instructor continued, "Continue those nice and deep breaths, but now bear down hard onto your pelvic floor as if you are going to bathroom." [I'm thinking, are my classmates really going to do this?] Yes, they did. 4 girls instantly grabbed their crotches as they did the maneuver, and the brown-haired girl jumped up and ran out of the room with her hand in the crotch of her tight jeans My instructor noticing the situation, gave a slightly red-faced admission, "I should've mentioned that you not try this if you have a full-bladder". And, I'm just sitting there in heaven looking at my attractive classmates laughing about almost pissing themselves in class for the sake of medical education! With this desperate predicament, the class came to an end. But the story does not end, because the brown-haired girl came back after most people had left the room, and had told the small group of students remaining the room what had happened. The maneuver had actually relaxed her so much that she leaked in her pants. So, semi-proudly, she showed the 4 remaining people in the room [including myself] and the instructor the little damp patch on her jeans. The last act was the instructor making an interesting comment about this not being the first time something like this has happened in a classroom......but i did not pry.

"Getting her panties dirty so you don't have to (unless you want to :P)" I’ve been working my way through the random grab bag of incontinence and period pads that I’ve been collecting for a while. Some of these were random samples I sent away for, others are whatever is left over from packs of pads now long forgotten, some were left by friends, and others acquired through various life events. Regardless, I realized that I’ve got a lot of these things while I was cleaning my bathroom a while back. If you are interested in links to my other tests, scroll down to the bottom! In my regular life, I’m wearing pads during the day to catch leaks again (when I’m out and about and going to be far away from a washroom), and this has had me thinking about pads a lot more. As a result, I’ve decided to work my way through the collection, doing a highly ‘scientific’ test of the products while I do. I’ve already tested out a number of these pads over the past little while, you can some of these here: Anyhow, on this day I had a day off work, and was keen to get down to testing out some pads. I was wearing a comfortable pair of light purple cotton panties with red trim. After breakfast, I had a second mug of green tea and got to work on some email and other activities. These activities included looting through my pad collection to identify just how many different pads I had laying around. I was actually a little surprised at the number. I decided I’d forgo testing out simple panty liners, I’ve got some very thin ones and you can tell just by looking at them that they would actually do more harm than good (directing leaks away from the semi-absorbent gusset of the panties, into your clothing). So I went for all those pads which look like they could actually hold a leak. With an aim at being as scientific as possible, I decided to wait until I was at about a 7/10 on the old desperation scale and then once again trigger some sneezing. I’ve had success with this approach on my past tests and well I don’t mind the cinnamon all that much. The first pad I grabbed was this random period pad in a yellow package. It’s a no-name brand pad, acquired I think from the washroom of an airplane on one of my last trips to Europe? Despite it being a no-name brand pad, I thought the little embossing on it might work well. Anyhow, in order to detect leaks, I slipped into a pair of light gray tights/yoga pants. The kind that are absolutely unforgiving and I’m not sure why I even own these. I then slipped the pad into my purple panties (something that is hard to do when you are not wearing the panties, but I did want to take pictures), and went about my day. As I was already pretty full from the tea by the time I’d answered some emails and sorted through my pad collection, I was ready for round one. So I headed into the kitchen, grabbed the cinnamon, and made a little poufy cloud of it, just like last time, closed my eyes, stuck my face in the cloud, and inhaled. Apparently where bright lights don’t work for me, cinnamon does, I triggered a rather significant sneeze, which I could feel throughout my entire body. Followed by the inevitable rather significant 3 second release of urine. Typically, if I know I’m going to sneeze, I’ll bear down, and take some other precautions in an effort to prevent a leak, and this sometimes works. But because I wanted to trigger a leak, I simple relaxed a little more than normal as I inhaled the cinnamon. A 3 second leak is pretty significant. It’s the kind that goes through panty gussets and often leaks little visible wet spots on your pants. I inspected my tights for any leaks, and seeing none, I headed to the washroom to snap some pictures and change the pad. As you can see, the pad’s little embossed sections worked really well in keeping the pee to the middle of the pad and away from my tights. I was rather impressed with the pad. It had a soft cotton feel to the top, which suggested the ability to absorb liquid quickly. It was a little bulky, but that’s to be expected. --- This first test completed, I reached for another pad. Now this was another from an airport, or some other free source of pads. Unlike the previous no-name-brand pad, this one was super thin, and large. These ones I think are designed for overnight use. But again, I think they are from an airplane, so the extra coverage in the bum and overnight design makes sense. It covered a large amount of the surface area of my panties, but it’s thickness and plasticky top didn’t suggest a very effective pad. It also had wings, which I find are great for keeping the pad in place, especially if you are sleeping in the pad, but unfortunately wings are terrible for incontinence pads. Good incontinence pads (and I promise I’ll test some of these in the future, thought the Always and Poise were pretty good), had gathers which keep the pee in the pad, the problem with wings like this is they tend to create a channel for the pee, and help it run off the pad and into your clothes. So I didn’t have very high expectations for this pad, but I decided to give it a whirl. Once tucked in my panties, I went back to emails, but since I was still pretty desperate, as my previous leak had only released a tiny amount of pee. I only got through 2 before I decided to head back to the kitchen and trigger another sneeze. The cinnamon worked really well once again and I had two rather large sneezes after inhaling. And again, a decent sized leak 2-3 seconds long escaped from my confused bladder. I could feel the pee flood the pad, and a wetness on my left inner thigh. As you can see from the images I took in the washroom after, the wing did help direct the pee off the pad and onto my leg. Fortunately, there wasn’t a wet spot on my tights (at least one visible from the outside) so the semi-absorbency of the wings helped a little. But I definitely had no confidence in the pads at all. One of the errors inherent in the test I’m doing is that I’m typically standing in the same position, the classic standing position which tends to maximize the effectiveness of pads. Things that make pads less effective include sitting down, or not standing perfectly upright (like bending over, landing a jump). Also it should be mentioned that these pads are freshly put in my panties. On a warm day, or over the course of a day, sweat from the body (and other girl fluids) make their way into a pad. Not only this, but pads can bunch and scrunch as you move about. A pad wedgie makes a little ^ which undermines a pads effectiveness, basically channeling pee off the pad and into your clothes. Anyhow just thought I’d mention the possible errors from the otherwise highly ‘scientific’ test. Back to the pad at hand, as you can see, my panties stayed dry, but the pad did not inspire confidence. I decided I had just enough patience for one more test. Or rather, that my bladder would tolerate one more test, before it became too full and uncooperative. It’s not used to this kind of activity. So next up I grabbed an Always Extra-Thin ‘Slender’ period pad. I’m not sure why they need the complicated titles with these things. I bet there’s a marketing person out there who is trying to come up with the next of absorbency after ultra, maximum, super… Anyhow, these are the typical kind of pad I’d wear if I was on my period and wanted a pad with wings. They are short, straightforward, and generally get the job done when it comes to menstruation. They’ve got a light blue design on them and the surface is part that perforated plasticky feel, without it being too plasticky. They fit in my panties properly. You will notice some of the other pads are way too big for my panties, and tend to widen the gusset. This is super annoying, as the wider pad tends to fold upwards more ^ which is both annoying in general, but also, as I’ve said, reduces the pads effectiveness. The reason why a lot of pads will be wide for my panties in general, and these panties specifically, is that they are girls panties. I wear a lot of cotton panties for girls, I just love the look and feel, what can I do. But as you can see, the wings are pretty big, and clearly able to accommodate much larger panties, they are almost overlapping on my undies. So I put the pad in, and immediately went to the kitchen to trigger my next sneeze. I did forget to mention that I cleaned out my nose after each test, as having little bits of burny cinnamon in your nose is not fun. Anyhow, predictably I had another leak, of about the same size as the others (perhaps a little bigger, as I could feel my bladder being unhappy with me putting it under so much strain). Once again the wings were this pad’s downfall. This time the right side helped run the pee right into my inner thigh and create a visible wet spot on my tights (nothing serious but a spot none the less, everything shows on light gray sweats). The entire wing was wet (as you can possibly see here). And despite otherwise doing its job, the pad felt clearly wet and yucky. You know those advertisements where they put a piece of paper on a just-wet pad and lift it off to show how dry the pad leaves you feeling? Well this pad would have failed the test. My lady parts were rather wet, inside and out, and if I had to wear this pad for any amount of time after a leak (say the time it would take to make it to the loo to change, or even longer), I would have been seriously uncomfortable. I have the same verdict on the previous pad as well by the way. As you can see, I got my panties a tiny bit wet taking the pad off and taking pictures. And again, the annoying thing with the wings is that while they protect your panties, they seem to imperil your clothing. So the overall verdict is pretty much as you could predict, period pads should be used for their intended purpose, and aren’t really up to the task of containing pee. I should say that the first pad seemed to have been designed to accommodate both, as it worked pretty well. Perhaps somewhere there is an airplane supply company that made the case to airlines that the free pads available in the washrooms should be multi-purpose. I do still have a couple of other airline pads from other flights, so I’ll test this out in the future. I hope you enjoyed my test and expect more soon. Don’t forget that all of my panties could be yours! Get in touch if you’d like to buy a pair of my dirty panties! http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties Rach My other pad tests:

So I just litterally started drawing again as of yesterday. Here is what i have drawn.

So I don't know if anyone else had to do this as a child, but for a number of months, my mother was convinced that the pullups I was wearing to bed to keep my bed dry were preventing me from learning to not wet the bed. Rather than go without protection, and thereby imperiling my bedding, she 'encouraged' me to wear panties underneath my Goodnites, so that I would feel them when they got wet, and wake up, thereby learning to wake up in the middle of the night to pee, rather than wet my bed. This didn't work, and this practice was abandoned after a couple of months, and many pairs of wet panties. It turned out that the panties still cause the Goodnites to leak, because they reduce the effectiveness of the gathers. In a fit of nostalgia, I recreated the days of old, and I wore panties under my Goodnites, resulting in a predictable puddle. I just made this video available through my website, so please get in touch if you are interested in a copy! http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties/wetting-videos

Well, it certainly has been awhile since I've posted anything here. Was bored and decided to whip this one up; did it a few months ago, but finally got around to proofreading and posting it. Most of my time has been spent writing commissions, almost all of which have been of a furry omorashi nature--but I felt it was time to do something free and more individualized. If you're interested in things like that, check the links on my profile to see where I have posted them, though some of them may be invisible without relevant accounts! Also, the name associated with this "loosely true story" has been changed. Enjoy! Tea at the Breakfast Place My favorite thing about taking Sara out to the 24 hour breakfast place was her choice in drinks--the sweet tea. She would burn through at least two full glasses, and sometimes start on a third, before we left. It usually only led into some leg bouncing and light fidgeting, but that was preferable to the times where we stayed extra late and she chose the public bathroom over waiting. The ride home was only twenty minutes, something of a sweet spot by my standards, but two to three glasses of tea was also a lot of liquid, so I could only expect so much. She told me she had been avoiding public bathrooms for as long as she could remember, which led me to believe she had grown fairly comfortable with having a somewhat full bladder. That on its own had made small, desperate scenarios pretty common, but they'd gotten even more common after she'd learned about my interests. However, despite an increase in frequency, she wasn't willing to hold it much longer, at least in public, which meant the situations I really looked forward to--the ones where she nearly had an accident--were only slightly more common. Honestly, what I wanted to see more than anything else was for her not to make it, but according to her, she had never pissed herself bad enough for it to make it to her pants. She'd never had “an accident”--by her standards-- as a teen or adult, with the exception of a few things she had done for me in private, on request. I had hope it would happen eventually, but I usually just tried to be content with what I was getting, which was probably more than the average omorashi aficionado. On this particular night, however, she started on her third glass of tea fairly early on, taking slow sips of it after essentially inhaling the last two glasses. This was always an unfortunate sight for me, because it was often a harbinger of an incoming bathroom visit, and since we were both getting particularly invested in our conversation, I knew there was little chance we would be leaving early—we never did on nights like these. For the time being, I was content with having such a stimulating back and forth, and didn't want to let my greed muck things up; but when I called for the check, I was pleasantly surprised when she did not excuse herself. As I paid and we stood from the table, I kept waiting for some familiar words and a bittersweet trot toward the restrooms, but it never came. I thought I could see some internal questioning going on as she collected her box of leftovers, and even thought her legs were a bit closer together than normal, but it may have just been my overly stimulated imagination. When we headed back to the car, I didn't think much would come of the event, but I was excited nonetheless for what could possibly be a little more squirming than normal, or something equally unremarkable. I had learned to set my expectations low for this kinda thing, since I could never really tell how things would go for sure, and this always gave me some kind of satisfaction with the turn out. This time, however, when we got in the car, she twisted around and placed the box of leftovers in the backseat, and upon returning to a normal sitting position, I saw her squirm the slightest bit while putting a hand on her upper thigh. “Damn, I probably should have gone to the bathroom...” She muttered something to that effect and looked at me with what looked like a mixture of faux-worry and playful-pleading. This sort of comment was unusual for her, as she normally endured silently. At which point she realized her bladder was actually quite full, I was not sure, but it seemed twisting around had made the fact clear. I looked over at her for a moment but didn't reply. Had it been anybody else, I'd have offered to wait while they went back in, but since I was with Sara, and she knew about my fetish, I just put it in reverse and reveled in the fact I could do something like this and have there be no hard feelings. She could have asked me to stop if she had wanted to, but she probably didn't think such a thing would be needed. Her confidence in being able to hold a lot of piss for exceptionally long periods of time was not misplaced. I feel this would be a good point in the story to stop and give a run down of her looks. She was a light-skinned Hispanic with short black hair and a very cute face that seemed to straddle a strange line between “boyish charm” and “model hot.” I can't remember the exact shirt, but it was nothing fancy, some kind of t-shirt that fit relatively loosely on her, casual for sure. She was wearing a pair of fairly new looking jeans that were tight around the thighs and hips, but paradoxically a bit loose at the waist, making slight shows of her underwear easy if she was not careful when she bent over. I wasn't sure of her exact cup size, but I would wager somewhere between a and b. Small, but it fit her well and looked very natural, both under clothing and in the nude. To supplement for the lack of weight on top, she had a somewhat bottom-heavy look. Her hips were wide compared to her fairly small build, and her thighs went along with them perfectly--one size above normal, one size below “too big.” Her butt wasn't huge, but as it goes with large thighs and hips, it wasn't small either. I would argue it was possibly the most aesthetically pleasing part of her body, though that was heavily in relation to how perfectly it fit on her. Her pear-like figure was resemblant of classical Greek sculpture, where the women were usually a psychologically pleasing place between small and large—I was truly thankful to be with somebody so attractive. Pulling out of the parking lot and on to the road required us to drive over a bump, one that always had to be hit with a certain amount of speed in order to avoid the oncoming traffic. I hit it and the car shook violently. Once I was driving safely in a lane, I glanced over at her and found both of her hands on her thighs, her legs closed tightly. Her body again invoked thoughts of a Greek sculpture, and it made me regret the lack of desperate poses in their art. Within just a couple minutes of driving, one of her legs started to bounce rapidly. She was sitting straight up, rather stiffly. A few moments later she spoke: “Wow, I really gotta piss.” I remember she said that exactly, because of how unusual it was. For starters, she didn't normally say “piss,” and on top of that, most of her commentary, if any, happened a bit later into the drive, usually when we were getting closer to home. “That bad, huh?” “Yeah.” The earlier comments hadn't seemed too stressed, but this one had the definite markings of worry in her tone. I swallowed in anticipation and went silent. It wasn't long until both of her legs were starting to bounce up and down, at first in a steady, consistent pattern, but after a bit, in uneven, shifting motions that seemed to stop and restart suddenly, as if without any calculation on her part. In the corner of my eyes I saw her lean forward a bit, and when I glanced over, I caught the movement of her throat as she swallowed and the casual placement of her hand between her legs. I knew she had noticed my glance, but she didn't look over at me. She did, however, speak a moment later: “Oh my god. “ Her tone was shaky, somewhere between worry and awe. I had only heard her like this a few times, and that was usually when she was steps away from a toilet; those events were normally the rare treats that had ended in a change of panties. Looking at her then, I wondered if I would be treated to one of those events, or if possibly something more would occur. Around the time we reached the ten minute mark, she crossed her legs, keeping her hand wedged tightly between them as she did it. One of her legs was alternating between stillness and bouncing, changing every few minutes, while the other was pinned firmly to the ground. She was letting out small moans and frequent words of complaint, which was very unusual for her, and she did this at least once every minute. About seventeen minutes into the ride she spoke up again: “Oh my God, please hurry.” Her eyes widened. Her back was stiff and her entire body jiggled with the sharp vibrations of her leg. She hadn't switch positions since assuming it, and was no doubt afraid to try anything different. It was around this point that I realized her desperation had been going up and down. At points, her leg would stop and she would relax, just a bit, enough for me to notice, and then after a few minutes, it would escalate again, and she would start jiggling and complaining up a storm. On top of that, this pendulum effect seemed to be moving increasingly quick with each passing interval. When we made it twenty one minutes into the trip—I should add the twenty minute estimate was when I sped, but due to truly 'extraneous' circumstances, I had disavowed my crude, speeding ways and assumed the role as a law-abiding citizen—she spoke up again: “I'm about to piss myself.” She said it calmer than she had uttered the other things, almost as if she was getting used to the unbearable pressure. “It's so bad.... Please hurry.” The second part was slightly more urgent. Looking down at the speedometer I sped up about one mile per hour—technically obliging her request. A few moments later, I saw her body begin to quiver and I noticed her face grow strained. She started bouncing, and then stopped and stiffened up after a few moments. She then started bouncing again and repeated the process about four times before she got stiffer and started to lean forward, keeping her hand viced between her crossed legs, presumably pressing as tightly as she could against her groin. The noise that then came from her throat had to have technically been a grunt, but it sounded somewhere between a moan and a squeak. After a few moments, I noticed her body relax just a smidgen and she started bouncing her foot again. I placed my hand on her thigh and rubbed it in a slow, soothing pattern. “You alright?” “...I leaked.” “... How bad?” “I can feel it.” I swallowed, the intense feeling of arousal making it hard to think. “How bad...? Like, on the your pants bad?” “No. I don't think so, but my underwear is pretty wet.” After that, we went silent again. In a way, I had already gotten what I wanted, but we still had a couple minutes before we would make it home, and even though it seemed like her urge had been relieved a bit, I still had hope this could be the accident I'd been waiting so long for. The rest of ride went by without much of a hitch, though it is worth noting within thirty seconds of our conversation her leg started bouncing again. When we pulled on to our street I saw her spine straighten out as she undid her seat belt. She muttered “oh my God...” under her breath, leaned in, and swallowed, keeping her legs crossed and her hand pincered the entire time. The moment we pulled into the parking lot, the overhead light of the car turned on, indicating she had cracked open the door. I saw her staring downward, toward the bottom of the car door, as I pulled in and brought us to a stop. She swallowed and with one swift motion uncrossed her legs and practically leaped out onto the asphalt. Before I got out, I saw her grimace through the passenger window from the sudden shift in gravity. With no regard for whether or not she was seen, she kept her hand pressed firmly into her groin. I quickly took my keys and headed off after her. She lead the way with a quick swagger, swinging her wide butt back and forth with each step. Her thighs stayed together, rubbing against each other as she masterfully maneuvered through the hallways--with impressive speed, I might add. I followed close behind, knowing that if I didn't, she would more than happily leave in the elevator without me. When we got to the elevator, we had to wait for it to come down to us, and there wasn't a moment where she stood still. At first it was just intense, obvious squirming, one foot to the other, hip swinging at the very least, all while she was grabbing herself, but after a few moments, she started pacing, as if the act of standing still would break her. When the elevator arrived, we both got on and I was treated to the same thing: intense squirming and soon pacing in circles, like she was running from the urge in a Benny Hill skit. I thought about keeping the door open to mess with her, but I felt like things had gotten a bit too intense for me to play that game. That one might make her legitimately mad. “Fuck... I'm leaking...” She said it with quick, short breaths. I could only imagine the state of her underwear, and I wondered if urine was beginning to dribble through. In the back of my mind, it occurred to me that while situations like this involving her were incredibly rare, they were not entirely unprecedented, but an actual accident up to then had been. I felt my heart beating heavily and loudly in my chest. There was a chance, but still no guarantee... When the elevator stopped, she shot off like a rocket, thighs remaining together as her butt and thighs swung back and forth through the hallway. She was already reaching into the tight pockets of her jeans to remove the apartment key. When we reached the apartment door, she reached forward and initially missed the locked, missing it a few more time with follow up stabs. In her frazzled state, she wouldn't be able to do it while squirming. She bit down on her lower lip and came to a stop. I saw her face tighten as she delicately maneuvered the key into the lock, and in the instant she turned the knob, her eyes widened. “Shit, shit, shit...!” The expletives said it all. She ran into the apartment and down the hallway toward the bathroom. I waited in the living room for about seven minutes before I heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. It ran for only two to three minutes and then it turned off. The results were pretty obvious, and I struggled with not pleasing myself right there on the couch, however I waited with bated breath for the degree of her accident and the damage she had inflicted on her jeans. When the door opened, there was a moment's hesitation, and then a pantless form, clutching something in its hands, darted off into our bedroom and swung the door closed before I could get a good image of what had happened. I sat for a moment and wondered how to salvage the situation. I stood up before it was too late and rushed to the bedroom. I knocked and asked if I could come in. “Umh... yeah.” She hesitated for a moment, no doubt choosing to answer in the affirmative entirely because of my fetish. When I walked in, the first thing I saw was her butt aimed at me, as she was bent down in front of our dresser procuring a change of clothes. She still had her panties on, bikini-style, cotton, a tasteful shade of white, a yellow-tinted dark spot starting about an inch above her butt cheek and extending all the way down her crotch. There were intermittent patches of varying sizes extending up her butt, all the way up to the hem of the panties, presumably from being unable to stop her stream even for the moment it would take to remove the underwear. Sitting askew on her floor were the jeans, their piled shape amorphous, but dark spots visible in the mess. “So, uh... Looks like things didn't go too well.” I said something dopey to that effect. “Yeah,” she turned around and smiled at me. It was a strange smile, very calm, possibly one of relief, not just in having gotten to pee, but in knowing her accident, a normally embarrassing and difficult experience, had brought me great pleasure. “I lost it when I was trying to unlock the door.” “... What happened?” Still standing in her panties, her change of clothes in hand, she explained. Through a small series of verbal back and forths, I essentially gathered that when she reached the door, standing still had done her in, and she had started to wet herself as she was opening the door. When she was running, she temporarily managed to regain a little control, but each step had caused a small to large leak, and the moment she entered the bathroom and came to a relative stop to the close the door, she was essentially, full-on peeing her pants. As she regarded it, she got her pants off “with light speed” so the damage could have been a lot worse, but there was no denying by the dark spots on her jeans it had been bad. I was disappointed she had already removed the jeans, and attempted to get her to put them back on to model them for me, but she was grossed out by the idea. I felt bad insisting, but the event was a rare one, and it didn't take long before she caved. She slipped on the jeans and I examined the wet spot. The spot wasn't as bad as I was expecting, but was still extremely noticeable. There wasn't anything visible from the front when she had her legs closed, but once she opened them, one could see the saturation that had run down the sides and back of her thighs. When she turned around, I found a much more noticeable trail of wetness, encroaching a few inches up to her butt cheeks, but most of it centering around her groin, growing out about two and a half inches in width, and then crawling down her legs, making a solid patch of wetness just past the half way point to her knees. After that she removed the jeans and panties and showered again, and the stuff beyond that is better left unstated. Hopefully you all enjoyed this occasion as much as I did!

So while I was feeling a little unwell earlier in the week, I'm feeling much better, and I've been a busy (and naughty girl). First of all I've been making all sorts of custom videos and a couple just general videos, and I've made a page on my website for my videos and custom videos. I didn't want to make things too commercial here, so all I'll do is share a couple of picture from my most recent video adventure, and a link to my site. http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties/wetting-videos So in this video I tested out Always Discreet's for their effectiveness in bedwetting. I'm trying to get bedwetting videos of every single diaper I own (and I've got actually a decent sized box of a lot of diapers I've worn in the past, and pads too). So this was next up after I've done Molicare and Goodnites (the new ones, I'm still awaiting the right time to do the vintage ones). Anyhow, as you can see, the Always Discreet are only discreet when worn by a lady under her cloths standing up, and a lady who doesn't completely soak them ;) This little girl thought she could wear them to bed to help keep the bed dry in the face of her bedwetting problem and she was wrong. I am particularly proud of getting the puddle just right, in past videos I've struggled to get it to show up vividly on camera, but some cleverness on my part (and lots of experimentation), I think made for an excellent video :) If you are interested in a copy please let me know! (Message or email, rachelkirwan@gmx.com). Hugs Rach

Hello. I know it been quite a while since my last post but here's a little story from something that happened today. (Also want to discuss something at the end and I also need advice) (also I'm wearing male panties and lycra tights the ones that cover your feet as well) So today I decided to try one of those nerd quiz things and it didn't go so smoothly. First off I have extremely strong bladder musels so it takes forever for me to get desperate, also theirs another bigger problem I have but I'll discuss this in this story. So I had 2L of water and after about 10hours and many more cups of water I started to get desperate. I was planning on holding it till I finally burst but it would of taking it forever, so I decided to do one of those nerd quiz and well it didn't go down to well. As I started the test I didn't feel nothing and even tho I was getting desperate but this is were it went really wrong. One of the question was "let out squirt for 1second and stop. What happend" and I tried to but even though I relaxed and tried to let it out I stopped when it reached the end of my penis. It really hurt so I had to start pushing it out. I gave up at the end and forcefully peed my self. I don't know what the problem is? Is it because I'm wearing breifs not boxers? also not bragging as I'm not that type of guy but I do have a really large penis and because I wear breifs it kinda gets tucked between my legs so I don't know if that's why it's happing? Also dose anyone have and suggestions on how to relax your bladder more? Also in general what do women prefer on men boxers or briefs? Always been a briefs man

Welp, here it is. I've been waiting a lot of years to write this, but it is finally time. This is a compendium of nearly all the experiences I have had relayed to me by others, primarily female, though there are some male accounts at the end. Somehow, this isn't all of them. Some were lost during a drug-inspired mass deletion, but a lot of it I still managed to dig up. Some are on an ancient hard drive and have been corrupted over years of storage. Some are based entirely on my memory, and I am sure a few have been forgotten or will be left out. However, let me make it clear: every single one of these is true. Some of the relayed ones may be exaggerated, there is also the slight possibility they were outright lies, but I will honestly inform you when I suspect something of being inauthentic. There is no pandering to fantasies or anything like that here. There is no need. Many of them were told to me by people I was close to, or in relationships with, and therefore, I have a better idea of whether or not they were true. All names have been changed, this includes mine. I am not using my normal handle for this, out of respect for the people I was with. There is the slim possibility they could stumble upon this and find something of their likeness reflected here, though this risk is almost entirely eliminated if my original handle is not used. I want to make absolutely sure I have taken every measure to make sure their identities are safe. I will do my best to relay these in the order they happened, though I can't make promises it will be in the exact order, as my archiving of these events was generally a quick copy and paste and then a quick name that was usually pretty generic. Nothing under the age 17 will be told in detail – not that the list is huge. Also, as a note, I do not recommend skipping any of the accounts within a single person's experiences. A lot of them, especially early ones, contain important details in other accounts, though they should never contain overlap with other people, so the people can be read it any order. Let's go ahead and get this started: THIS IS ONLY THE FIRST PERSON AMONG SEVERAL. MORE CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED IN THE FUTURE. ALEXIS BIO: She was my first “girlfriend.” Met her on a popular forum for something tv related, though I stopped frequenting it after meeting her. It was long distance, though she didn't live terribly far. At the time, I was maybe 15, she was 17, and turned 18 while we were together. In retrospect, it wasn't a real relationship, and it wasn't real love, but it was fun and I don't regret the times we had. PHYSICAL TRAITS: I believe she said she was 5'7. She had long hair, brown, possibly more of a dirty blonde. She had large breasts, D size if I remember correctly, and she had a nice body, nice hips, thighs. She wasn't fat, and while I personally would not call her chubby, a person into skinnier girls potentially would, but regardless, she was well-proportioned. NOTES: These are all on an ancient hard drive, and a lot I don't want to dig up and deal with, so I will be relaying the better experiences by memory. ACCOUNT #1: The first account I will keep quick. This one she didn't talk about much, as she said it was quite embarrassing. It was the only time she ever wet herself in public, and it happened when she was in the first grade. Standard story, don't recall too many details. She had to go, asked, was told no, and ended up wetting herself on a chair in the middle of class. It's gets better, this is just a formality. ACCOUNT #2: There were many times where she held it for me, and would do it until it got too bad and she would have to go. Generally, in the private chat, she would play it up, act like she really had to go, and while I am sure she exaggerated sometimes, I doubt she did it super often and I believe she was really holding it for me. One of the first things I got her to do beyond simply holding it was to go in the tub and wet herself before a shower. The first time, I got her to agree while she was already holding it, and the original plan had been to get her to do it through her panties, but she took them off last minute, much to my disappointment. She did, however, do it, and down her legs as well. She described it as warm, and said she enjoyed it because I enjoyed it. It took several months of chatting to get to this point. ACCOUNT #3: After having had a taste, I definitely craved more. Getting her to hold it a bit wasn't a huge issue, but the wetting was generally harder. As a compromise, I would sometimes ask her to go a bit, so there wasn't a huge mess and there was no immediate need for laundry or a big risk of getting caught by her parents. On one of these occasions, she did it in a pair of sky blue shorts she tended to wear quite often – also, as a side note, she almost never wore panties unless she was on her period, so assume she is going commando unless I say otherwise. She said she was about an 8 on the scale of 1-10, but this was before there was an omorashi.org or an actual popular scale, and to her, 8 was bad, 9 was very bad, and despite my protesting, 10 was extremely bad, and an accident occurred somewhere higher up. So bear that in mind. Anyway, she went a bit sitting in front of her computer, and typed 'ok..rbbr ' instead of 'brb' in her hurry afterward. After about 4 minutes she returned. I asked her how much came out and she said “maybe about..more than a couple drops.” When asked how it affected her desperation, she said it “made it ante up” and that it made things worse, though she had no trouble making it to the toilet. ACCOUNT #4: One of my favorite accounts of all time. It happened before she met me, and was rather special. This is one of the only stories that involves her in panties, and probably the only one that involves her in just panties and a shirt, as most were experienced in the sky blue shorts, or tight, black running shorts, or jeans. She said she was watching tv with her mom, and she got up to get something to drink. She said she had needed to go, but didn't remember how bad. Anyway, she ignored it. On the way back from the kitchen, she sneezed and immediately felt something warm between her legs. When she looked down, some had dribbled down onto the floor and a bit was going down her leg. She said she hadn't expected this at all and her mom had quite the laugh. She quickly went and changed. ACCOUNT #5: Many of my favorite accounts, and you will see many of them throughout this, have been candid instances of desperation, some of them being close-calls -- the closer the better. This is one instance of a “moment,” as I dubbed them, that happened to Alexis. She was walking back to her car with her friends after a movie when she noticed she had to go, but I assume it was no cause for alarm, since she decided not to (this one was before she met me, and was therefore completely candid), though she did say it was somewhat bad. When she got home, she was very late, and her mom was angry with her. She said she had to sit down on the couch and endure her mother screaming at her, and the entire time she had to desperately go. When she got to go, she described it as a “never-ending fountain.” I asked her how long she thought she could have waited had she needed to, and she told me a minute, followed by “...seriously.” Imho this was probably a slight exaggeration, and she probably could have waited a bit longer, though it is worth noting this is the first time she had ever hinted to me about possibly losing control in such a short span of time, so I think it is reasonable to assume she was extremely desperate, and by this point she had held it for me several times. After asking what would have happened had her mom continued on for longer, she told she would have gotten up in the middle of her yelling and made a run for it, and probably would have only endured "30 seconds" more before doing so. ACCOUNT #6: Another one of my favorites. This one also happened before she met me, but was relayed to me immediately after ACCOUNT #5, where I first asked “Have you ever been to the point where you lost control, but you were close enough to the toilet to make it? “ I then specified: “I mean you actually lost control of your bladder before you were on the toilet.” She told me she thought so and needed to remember. What she told me after that was a story where she was watching the movie titanic. She said she was crying, and had not noticed she needed to go until fairly late into it. When the movie ended, she made a dash, but said “lmao it went before I got myself to the toilet.” I asked if she had gone completely, and she replied in the negative and said it had only started. She said she had probably been wearing a shirt (no bra, as usual) and those silk shorts. ACCOUNT #7: She said her friends had tricked her into watching a screamer once, and when the thing jumped out and screamed, she peed a little. This was not a visible amount, and was probably only a few drops. ACCOUNT #8: She went to see a movie with her mom and toward the end her mom was having some type of “attack” and she had to drive her home while needing to pee 'BADLY' as she worded it. After that, she had to tend to her and get her something to eat, before she finally ran for the toilet and “made it just in time.” ACCOUNT #9: This one was on Valentine's day. She used to drive to a park and go running everyday, and beforehand she would always drink of a ton of water, partially to stay hydrated, partially to have a story to tell me when she got back. On this day in particular, I am guessing she drank a bit more, and she said she “leaked “ while running, though I suspect she may have deliberately let go, or at least started the process. She said she lost control for a bit, which I believe, though she claimed to have gone about 1/8th of a full bladder, which I suspect was an exaggeration. Of note, she was on her period -- toward the end of it -- and therefore did this in a pad, thus the reason she was willing to do it in the first place. When she got back she said she had to redo her dad's parking, and then park her car in the correct place, and then she had to take the garbage out, all while the urge was bad. She admitted to putting it off intentionally for me. ACCOUNT #10: Apparently this happened the next day lol. Not sure how I managed to make this happen, but I'm not complaining. Anyway, I managed to get her to stand in the bathroom and pee in her panties a bit (she had them on for her period but it had already ended, so no pad) and then immediately sit down on the toilet and finish. She did this and said she had trouble getting it started at first but managed to get a little to come out. She stopped it and sat down on the toilet and finished going through the panties, and said the only weird part was that there was some “sloshing around” when she was done. She then quickly got into the shower. This was in black shorts. ACCOUNT #11: She went jogging in some black shorts and had to go pretty bad by the time it was time to head out. She said she “remembered me” and decided to let a little go while she was sitting in the car before driving home. She wasn't wearing any underwear and figured if anyone asked she could pass it off as sweat. She said it left a golf ball sized wet spot near her butt. ACCOUNT #12: She was at school and was going to donate to the blood drive. She said had needed to go for awhile but was ignoring it. On the way to the drive the urge “blew through the roof” and she rushed to the bathroom, but all the stalls were occupied. She said that it came down to a matter of seconds and said she “almost pissed her damn pants.” When asked about dancing, she replied with “shifting my feet, tapping my feet on the floor, going in circles, shaking my leg, holding them together/criss crossing them. “ She said she was in short shorts. ACCOUNT #13: Later that same day, she went home from school and took a nap. When she woke up she said the urge was pretty bad and both bathrooms were occupied by parents. She said she tried to hold it for a bit but eventually said fuck it and “bust in” on one of them taking a shower and went. She said she could have waited longer had she needed to. ACCOUNT #14: Before I get to the grand finale, I feel I should mention this one. I have no record of it, and I am not entirely sure when it happened, though I am quite sure it was much earlier than a good bit of these. She was wearing boxers for this one, and was voluntarily holding it in. She held it a bit longer than normal, and judging by her text, seemed quite desperate. When I finally let her go, she said she started to pee herself on the way to the bathroom, and stopped in the tiled kitchen, where she promptly peed all over herself and on the floor. I have mixed feelings on the truth of this one, and while I do believe she peed herself, I've always been skeptical as to whether or not the accidental release aspect was true. I've personally decided that the most likely possibility is she did lose control to some extent, but had I not been a catalyst to the event, she wouldn't have stopped in the kitchen and would have continued to the bathroom, though, I could be wrong about this, because she explained to me the house was carpeted everywhere else. ACCOUNT #15: And here is the grand finale. There are probably a few I am not remembering or have not recorded, but for the most part, these are the bulk of her more exciting desperate moments, as well as the best ones I will not forget anytime soon. This last story is one my favorite all time stories, and I am to this day surprised it turned out how it did. It happened late in our relationship and was one of the last fetish things she did for me. She swore this one was not planned at all as well. She went jogging as usual and said she drank quite a lot, mentioning an energy drink, a glass of water, and another glass of water mixed with a nutrient supplement. Apparently, she said she was in a rush, though followed that up by saying she was late to return the car to her mother, but I will add it may have been in reference to being desperate as well, and possibly a double entendre. When she got home, she said she “burst through the front door” and to her “dismay” she found both bathrooms occupied. She stood outside one and decided to sit down, claiming it “covers up” better. While sitting, she said she “just couldn't hold it” and “was sweaty already,” so she peed about half a bladder's worth. I believe that amount to be exaggerated, as she said none leaked onto the floor, however she claimed her entire butt was soaked, so it had to have been a good bit. When asked if this was voluntary, she said it was a mix of involuntary and intentional, and that anything she let out would have come out on its own five seconds later anyway. She said when the bathroom became available she lost control as she ran in, but managed to keep it a secret. Anyway, that is my first “girlfriend” and some early experiences with her.

Tonight I decided to hold until I couldn't anymore. Holding "all the way" is something I've only done a couple of times. Normally during any holds I do, I get very desperate and end up "purposefully" letting it go. But anyway, this was my first wetting in "normal" clothing since moving a bit over a month ago. I've wet in a diaper a couple times since moving, but tonight I had to mop the floor. In the middle of writing a lengthy paper for an online class I'm taking for a second degree (because my first one hasn't helped too much), I noticed I had to pee. It wasn't yet particularly pressing, so I decided to hold for a bit. Nearing the end of the paper however, my need to pee was starting to become more and more severe. I decided I was going to finish up the paper and "reward" myself by not visiting the toilet. I impulsively decided I was just going to hold until I wet myself. I wasn't dressed in anything particularly special. A white t-shirt and jeans. But I felt, for whatever reason, that my jeans were a good choice to wet in today. So I didn't change into anything that I had previously planned to wet in. For a while I just walked around my cluttered apartment (I'm still not nearly unpacked) as my desperation built until I decided the kitchen area would be the best place to make my last stand. So I brought my bedroom mirror into my small kitchen area so that I could watch myself shake and squirm a bit. I needed some sort of entertainment if I was to just be standing in an empty room waiting to lose control, and what better source of entertainment than watching my own stimulating suffering? I stood in place for what felt like an eternity. Constantly feeling like I had very little time until I burst. What was more of a pressing matter however, was I also felt as thought I needed to also do number two (I didn't mess myself). I often find that being desperate to pee also makes me feel like I need to do my other business as well. I wasn't planning on that cleanup today but I wasn't going to move until I wet. Once again, I thankfully didn't need to do the more difficult cleanup today. I just stood there and watched myself in the mirror. I was quivering. I couldn't hold still. I didn't want to move. After standing in place for maybe about an hour after setting up camp, I leaked a little bit. Just a spurt at first. And a few minutes later there was another one. I managed to hold out for a bit after the second spurt, but within ten minutes or so it was coming out. A slow trickle at first, but despite my best efforts the dam broke and I soaked, mostly the inseam and back of my jeans. I couldn't stop it until I was drenched. I stood there for a minute, in a large puddle of my own urine. My socks drenched as well. Despite deliberately putting myself into exactly this situation, several conflicting emotions rushed over me. I reacted by immediately just grabbing my mop and beginning to mop the floor. At the end of it all, I'm a bit happier and have a bit more laundry to do, so I think it worked out well!

Last week I was on the look out for something and because I live in a small market town with not many shops the chances were I wouldn't find it there. I usually go shopping in the next town over and went and had a look there but couldn't find what I was looking for there either. There is another town nearby which I don't usually go to as the other one is nearer but every so often we go over there. I decided to go and see if I could find the thing I was looking for there. I got up and had breakfast with Matty and initially I was going to drive over but I decided to get the train instead. Matty was going to give me a lift to the train station but when I told him where I was going he said he was heading over that way and gave me a lift. He dropped me off and asked if I wanted picking up but I said I would get the train home and set about on my quest. I had some other things to get so I made my way up through town and got some things and decided to grab some lunch. I went into a cafe and ordered some food and got a cup of coffee. I ate my lunch and ordered another coffee and a piece of cake and sat reading the paper for a while whilst drinking my coffee. I finished and paid my bill and set off heading back towards the bottom end of town. I had a few places in mind where I could possibly find what I was looking for. I spent the next couple of hours wandering around the shops getting a few items and eventually I finally found what I was looking for. I headed towards the train station but then realised that if I got the train I would have to get someone to pick me up when I got off at our town or get the bus up to our little village after getting off. I decided to just get the bus that goes that way and headed towards the bus station. As I was walking along I came to the bus stop and figured it made more sense to get the bus here than to go all the way to the bus station. I looked at the timetable and saw it was due in 15 minutes and sat down on the bench. I sat there for a few minutes and then walked up the street a little to the newsagents and bought myself a bottle of Fanta and a magazine. I went back to the bus stop and sat waiting. As I was sat there I noticed the slight need to pee as the coffee filtered into my bladder but it was only the feeling of needing to go and I just ignored it. Finally the bus came and I got on, paid and went and sat on the back seat. It was a small bus that goes around the scenic route and it would take roughly half an hour to get to our town then 5 minutes to get up the hill to our village. Being a small shuttle bus it was quiet and besides me there were only 4 other people on the bus. At the next stop some more people got on. I started reading my magazine and occasionally looked out the window to see where we were. After 10 minutes we pulled up outside the hospital and most of the people got off leaving me and an old guy sat towards the front. We came out of the hospital and joined the main road which is always bad for traffic as it leads down to the bypass. We hit the block of traffic and crawled along for 10 minutes until we got past the traffic lights and turned off the bypass onto the bottom road. In that 10 minutes I noticed my bladder filling pretty quick and I was now starting to feel a little desperate to pee. The coffee was filling up my bladder and I had finished the bottle of Fanta I had bought so that was now heading there too. At least now we were past the worst bit for traffic. We continued on and got the next village where a few people got on. We hit a bit of traffic coming out but cleared it relatively quickly and headed on to the next village. When we got there we were a bit ahead of time so we sat at the bus stop for a few minutes. The fact we were sat still and not moving seemed to make me need to pee worse. By the time we set off again I was getting really desperate and starting to squirm a little on the back seat. The bus started to climb the hill which once it reached the top our town was in the valley below. We reached the top no problem but on the way down on the main road into the town centre we were hitting traffic light after traffic light. My bladder had suddenly had a rapid fill moment and I was squirming and wiggling in my seat. By the time we got into the town centre and pulled into the bus station I was busting for a wee. I thought about getting off and going to pee but the bus station doesn't have any toilets. If it did I would have being able to nip off and pee and get back on but the nearest public toilets were at the other side of town and if I got off the next bus wouldn't be for another half hour. I sat there squirming and bouncing in my seat as the pressure built on my pee hole. I urged the time to hurry up so the bus would set off again. A few minutes later the bus started up and we pulled out of the bus station. We got in traffic waiting for the roundabout and with each move forward my bladder kept on filling. As we went round the roundabout and headed out of town a wave of desperation hit me as my bladder filled up completely and I reached bursting point. I felt like I was going to flood my knickers right there and then and bounced like crazy. My pee hole was quivering like mad as she tried to stay closed. We got out of the town centre and got onto the road out of town. We hit the traffic heading out on the main road towards the motorway and I sat squirming like crazy as my pee hole threatened to open. Suddenly a wave of desperation washed over me and my pee hole relaxed for a moment letting a trickle of pee escape into my knickers. I gasped and pressed my hand against my pee hole to try keep her shut. The trickles kept happening and my knickers started getting really damp. We turned onto the road that heads up to my village and started climbing the hill. The trickles kept getting bigger and suddenly turned into leaks. We got into our village and I stood up to go wait at the front of the bus. As I stood up a huge leak shot into my knickers and I had to cross my legs tight to keep my pee hole from opening. I moved down the bus and stood behind the driver. I stood bobbing and dancing trying not to wet myself and urging the bus to hurry up. We went around the outer road of the village and my stop was before it turned through the centre of the village and back down into town. I pushed the bell and stood next to the door leaking into my knickers uncontrollably. I could feel it starting to run down my inner thigh and squeezed my legs together to stop it running down under my skirt. The bus pulled up at the stop and when the doors opened I thanked the driver and got off. As the bus pulled away and went out of sight I grabbed myself up my skirt and danced for a moment trying to regain control. I had to walk along the dirt road to my house but I needed to stop the leaks happening if I had any hope of making it home without having an accident. I walked into the bus stop (one of those stone hut kind of ones) and sat on the bench. Sitting down put pressure on my bladder and spurt shot out of my pee hole. I grabbed myself and squirmed like crazy until the wave of desperation had passed. As soon as I took my hand away another spurt escaped and shot through my knickers. It ran down my leg and I knew there was no way I could get home now. I quickly looked out of the bus stop and saw people walking their dogs and people going in and out of the shop. I sat back down and pulled my skirt up around my waist. I lifted my legs onto the bench and spread them open. I started spurting uncontrollably and I desperately tried to hold them back. The desperation flooding through me felt incredible and the feeling that at any moment my pee hole would burst open and I would start peeing with no hope of stopping it was turning me on like crazy. The spurts kept getting bigger and my pussy was throbbing with delight. I couldn't take it and rubbed my clit through my knickers. A wave of pleasure shot through me causing me to spurt more pee and moan out. I couldn't hold it back anymore, my bladder started emptying slowly. The only thing stopping it from gushing out full force was my muscles squeezing attempting to stop it. It felt so amazing to let it out so slowly and it soaked my knickers and began trickling all over the floor. I continued rubbing my clit and the feeling of that plus the slow relief of emptying my bladder was sending waves of pleasure through my body. A dog appeared in the doorway and I stopped suddenly. The owner followed and my pee was still splashing on the floor. If he glanced round at the noise he would see me there peeing myself and pleasuring my pussy. My heart beat super fast and I held my breath as he walked past. After he passed I was insanely horny, being so close to getting caught was such a rush and I couldn't hold my bladder anymore. I relaxed my muscles and the pee came gushing out into my knickers and all over the seat and floor. The huge feeling of relief coupled with the rubbing of my throbbing clit send me crashing into orgasm. I trembled with pleasure as I filled my knickers with pee and cum. Eventually my bladder finished emptying and I just sat there moaning and panting. It was the best peegasm I had ever had and my whole body was tingling with pleasure. I looked down and my knickers were soaked. They used to white but now they had gone completely see through. I sat there for a few minutes enjoying the feeling and the feeling that at any moment someone could walk past and see me like that. Eventually I stood up and put my skirt back down and quickly headed along the road to home. When I got in Matty was stood in the kitchen and he knew just by looking at me that I had done something. I giggled and lifted my skirt up and showed him my soaked knickers. He came over and felt them and asked what I had done. I told him what had happened whilst slowly teasing him. When I finished he gave me a spanking for being such a naughty girl and I went off to shower and get changed. I should go shopping more often I think p.s. For those who aren't sure what I mean by stone bus hut...this is the kind of thing I meant -->

So this is a problem I used to have a while ago. Up until the point I was ten or so, I wet the bed. Naturally I wore pull ups. The thing I noticed was that the pee always leaked out of the pull up and went into my bed. Of course the pull up absorbed most of the pee, but still a good amount of it leaked onto my bed. It always dried, and there wasn't a hell of a lot of it so I just let it dry and only changed the sheets once a week like everyone else in my family. I found this quite strange how I, a ten year old kid at the time could overflow an adult diaper designed for people with fully developed bladders. I hypothesise that it was the angle I slept in or maybe it was just a really crappy brand. Has anyone else ever faced a similar experience with over flowing diapers?

Well this is my second full story that i would post in this forum, i'm posting it here since it does have a lot of wetting involved, and if you saw my writing style, the prefix is female because i would focus on my partner rather than on myself, since it's quite boring on my part because i'm not really into holding unless necessary, but making others hold, desperate and leak is fair game. And since all of the people i have had a diaper (related) date with are female, expect all my stories to have this sort of tag =============================================================================================== Another introductory note is that while this was my 3rd diaper date( over all ) with the 6th girl i convinced to try diapers with, this is the story about the first diaper date with her (and checking from my own memory, we've had about half a dozen experiences together wearing diapers and using them a lot. This was also the first(actually second but there's another story related to the first) girl i knew that willingly wore diapers on her own for convenience and for the feeling of peeing anywhere she wanted without any the wiser (though she wouldn't admit any fetish related) . She toned it down recently since she had a public leaking experience with her diaper being overused and her friends seeing the very large wet spot when she stood up so now she wants to lay low and only wear them when we date, and the next scheduled date is hopefully next week. The actual first girl (#1, from my first story) who wanted to wear diapers on her own got traumatized when she asked another one of her friends to try it with her, i think she got publicly embarrassed though thankfully she didn't drag my name along. I'll code name her #6 since she was the 6th i convinced to try this on a setting like this ============================================================================================ It was around april 2011, we just finished our last year in high school. I forgot what we were texting each other about but it must have been some nostalgic feelings about highschool and some nervous feelings related to college, we were enrolled at two different schools, the top two locally so we had some worries about how we would fit in and survive college life. We also brought up the story of our classmate caught peeing in the shower which is actually something i posted on the site sometime ago and she admitted that she too pees in the shower because she either doesn't feel to go to the toilet and wait in line in cases like these or she 'loses' control and does it anyway. Using this , i slowly diverted the topic towards setting up a date as well as two dares which i knew would lead to a great experience. We decided to have pizza then watch a movie as we do my dares (as she'll give them the next time around), the first one i gave was we both drink 500 ml of soda or iced tea and then equal amounts of water relative to each other, which eventually led to roughly 2 liters. She seemed a bit worried but then proceeded to agreeing to the next dare that i gave, after a sufficiently good buildup which was... wearing diapers. She was hesitant at first but decided to try it since i bought them already. We had two pieces of diapers each We met that week right before lunch and wore it at the mall, she was worried that it didn't fit well under her shorts, which weren't loose, and her being quite petite and slim as it was, it made quite a bulge which i made her dismiss as insignificant since really, no one would stare at her crotch too long. So we walked into the grocery part of the mall and bought our drinks, she felt quite sick after drinking up her iced tea which was when she told me she realized that she had some sort of ulcer which didn't take iced tea well so i told her to drink water to make her feel better. We sat on a bench in the mall while waiting for her to recover, planning our next location as we talked. She drank about 500 ml of water and started feeling better so she told me that we can walk again, as we stood up and walked a few feet towards the mall map, she walked with a little hunch and a little slowly then she told me that she's suddenly peeing, and said that it was relieving. Based on her telling when she started and ended, it was about 10 seconds. She told me it was such a relied and we decided to walk to the escalator after she peed. ===To be continued==== (just a little busy with work for the next few hours but i can't wait to post this idea before my memories fade again) please comment and ask freely, i do not have pictures but i do remember this day quite well, and i can access my chat archives to see other details i may have missed that were discussed between me and her

This is a fantasy I started a while ago - and I posted it in that time to other website. I think I can continue with this story, if there would be people, who would like to read it - so please, if you like the idea, write it down in the comments section. I would be happy to continue :) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am sitting in a restaurant. There are two empty bottles in front of me on my table. They were full of water and Sprite some minutes ago. I sit there alone and I feel my bladder, as it strongly tells my brain, that all that liquid I had drank earlier asks to go even further. The pressure starts to be very strong. In normal situation I would be nervous, probably sweating, and worried to death, that I might wet myself like a total loser in a public place. But I don't do any of these thing. I know exactly, what I'm doing. Of course I am not alone here. There are two people behind the bar, waiter and waitress. They just mind their own business, talk to each other. Maybe I should give them a long stare, so they notice me and come to ask, if I want another drink. But no, it's too late for this. Now it's time for me to focus on someone else. There are four other people in the restaurant. Two older ladies chatting over their coffees, maybe I could be interested, but not this time. In other corner of the room, there sits a young guy with nice shirt, he types on his laptop the whole time, but he blinks my direction from time to time. I think he likes me, a little at least. But he's not my choice either. Last person here is a young woman. She has black hair to her shoulders and quite pale skin. She's dressed very nicely and makes me a little jealous about that. She has dark blue jeans and as I could see when she came to the restaurant, they are quite fitting. On the top, she wears nice cream jacket. Nice jacket. But there is my bladder and it pulls me back into the reality. I feel I can't hold on any longer, so it's time. I gather all my internal strenght and I focus on my bladder and it's content. In the same moment, I also focus on the same body part of this beautifully dressed young woman over the room. It starts slowly and I can't help but to think to myself that I'm becoming really good at this. And I can feel it now, the pressure in my bladder starts to weaken with every breath. I stare with my eyes locked to this girl, feelin' the pressure to leave my own body. But she suddenly moves her left leg and presses her tights together, she also shifts a little on the chair. As I watch her closely, I can see her eyes become wider. She doesn't know what's happening. Seconds earlier, she didn't need to go at all, but now her bladder is totally full and screams for release. She quickly closes the book in her hand and drops it on the table, than raises her head and desperately looks around the room for a toilet sign. She quickly runs her left hand to her crotch and presses it strongly, but a moment later, she takes it away. There are too many people for that sort of act. As she stands up, the look on her face is priceless. I'm gonna piss my pants, that's all she can think about right now. I really enjoy this scenery and I think she noticed me watching her, so she turned totally red. Or was it because she felt a warm, hot pool creating in her panties? She takes long steps to the toilet, my god she's nervous. I feel my own privates getting very wet, but pee has nothing to do with it. There is no stain on her jeans, it indicates she has quite good bladder capacity and control. And she vanishes from sight. I really hate my small and weak bladder now. If I could get it stronger and raise it's capacity, I could have given her even more and she would be unable to bear that. Don't get me wrong, I love nice desperation. But when it doesn't end up with wetting, it's just a cake without any frosting. A minute later she comes back and you can read the amout of relief from her face. Maybe she made it, or maybe she has damp panties sticking to her pussy lips right now. I will never know. And how about you, do you wanna know, how I did what I did?

Hi guys, I think I have a very strong bladder. Indeed I can hold a considerable amount of water and when I hold it takes a lot for me to start leaking. And usually I don't completely lose control and let the entire amount go but I just leak a lot. So I was wondering: do you know any methods to increase leaking/loss of control? The only that comes in my mind is caffeine, which simply increases pee production. I obviously don't wanna take medicines for this unless they're very light ones like aspirine. I usually get well hydrated by drinking much and going to the bathroom many times before starting to hold.

Hey everyone, I was looking around and couldnt seem to find a thread about this topic. Lealing diapers are a somewhat trigger of mine, does anyone have any pictures/ videos? Hopefully we can have a big thread for those who like this subject.