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I'm glad I was able to find all the documents for this. This is for the first chapter of the Guild Apprentice, an interactive I ran for ended recently. This version is a rewrite of the original interactive with some parts touched up because the early chapters didn't really age well. To the people who read the original interactive I hope you enjoy this, and I hope anybody new will enjoy this. Here is a link to GA: Part 2 which is currently ongoing: https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/51233-the-guild-apprentice-part-2/?page=2 This will be getting updated every few days. Part I You are roused from a peaceful sleep by the sound of squeaking wheels and trotting horses. You awaken in your carriage with your face nestled in a silk cushion. “Uuu…” You sit up, waiting for the mugginess of a rude awakening to fade. “I must’ve nodded off before we’d left town.” You think, rubbing your eyes. It’s not surprising, you’d barely slept a wink last night, the excitement of today, as well as a somewhat lumpy tavern mattress had kept you awake for most of the night. The last thing you remember is hoisting your rucksack aboard the carriage and the loud rumble of the town gate. You must’ve nodded off before you were even out the gate. Inching yourself toward the carriage window, you peer out to get a look at your surroundings. The sun is high, peeking over the tall oak trees along the trail. It must be late morning by now; you’ve slept the entire journey. As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you look around your carriage; it’s a basic oak compartment. Easy on the eyes and even easier on your purse. A small space with two sets of seats dressed up in red cloth, a small cast iron lantern bolted to the ceiling, and a large curtain the runs the length of the whole compartment. Beneath your seat is a small nook to store your belongings, but for the journey you felt comfortable keeping your rucksack by your side. In your weary-eyed state, you had forgotten to close the curtains before nodding off. Sunlight shimmers in through the windows, basking the carriage in a warm welcoming glow. You rub the sleep from your eyes and lean over your seat to take a glance through the carriage window. It’s a beautiful summer day in the Midlands without a cloud in the sky, birds are chirping and a light breeze is blowing through the forest, rustling the leaves. You huff, regretting that you didn’t walk the trail now. It was the perfect day for it. You lean over, reaching for your rucksack when you spy something twinkling in the corner of your eye. Looking down, you see it’s a small ornate hand mirror tucked under the seat. You bend down and pick it up. “Strange, I don’t remember packing this.” You mumble to yourself as you raise the hand mirror to your face. How on earth did it get in your carriage? Perhaps a noble was to use this carriage and had forgotten it? There was no chance of that, no noble would be riding in such a shoddy carriage, even the thought makes you laugh. Regardless, you decide now is a good time to check yourself over. You want to look your best after all. Gazing into the mirror, you quickly check yourself over, sweeping your hair, wiping the drool from your mouth, the usual fare for when you’d faceplant a pillow and fall asleep. Your name is Shibo Kenshiko, an aspiring mage of House Kenshiko, a magi family who hold high rank among the noble families of Orientia. Being a girl of plain appearance, the noble roots of your family did not shine through too well. Nothing in particular stood out about your looks, though you liked to think you were cuter than most girls. The recent weeks in the sun had given your skin a healthy tan, your eyes were curved and as light as the blue sky and you seldom smiled. You had long green coloured hair that would normally reach down to your shoulders, but you were fond of keeping it contained in a long ponytail. Your outfit too lacked any air of nobility, though it did not stand out much among the people of the cities. It was quite fitting with your appearance; a simple white blouse that was far too big for you. Sadly, it was all the tailor had in stock when you needed some garments and you couldn’t afford to be too picky. It stretched down to your knees and was nearly long enough to be a dress. Along with your blouse, you wore a pair of green baggy shorts, and a pair of black tights along with a pair of leather boots that could certainly use a shine. “I look fine.” You comment to yourself, smiling. You run a hand over your green hair and hold the mirror out to get a better look at your figure. Your clothes concealed your curves well, giving you an almost blocky figure. That was for the best. You were modest in your womanly assets; you breasts were fair and the same could be said for your backside; like a firm, well-rounded peach. Your hips had the honor of being your least modest feature; they were slightly wider than average and often it made you feel a tad… pear shaped, but you thought little of it. Finally finished, and giving yourself a soft smile, you sit the mirror down by your side. As you do that, you notice, sticking out of your satchel, a piece of rolled up paper. That was your letter of acceptance to Fort Victoria, the capital fort of Eseriths Fighting Guild. You pull the parchment from your satchel and unroll it. On the parchment is the sigil of the Eserith Fighters Guild; two longswords crossed in front of a silver kite shield. Running across the bottom of the sigil is a banner reading the words “Always Willing. Always Ready. The famous motto. The parchment also bears your name: Shibo Kenshiko and a signature: R. Rodrin, the mentor of the site that had gotten you your Apprenticeship. Holding that letter close to you, you sit back in your seat and close your eyes. You fantasize about your new life with a Guild. “I’m going to be a Guildhand.” You whisper the words, letting them hang on your tongue. Just speaking them makes you grin with joy as you open your eyes and once again admire the letter in your hands. Those words filled you with glee now just as much as they had when you first spoke them. As you are sat there, letting dreams fill your head, you hear the squeaking wheels grow quiet. The horses whinny, their hooves trampling the mud and falling quiet too. The carriage grinds to a halt. That was odd, you weren’t expecting any stops until Guilden, and you certainly weren’t there yet. Quickly folding up the letter and stuffing it in your satchel, you go to see what the commotion is about. On your way past, you decide to take the hand mirror with you, but when you reach down to pick it up… you find it’s gone. “Strange…” You hoist your satchel over your shoulder and leave the carriage. The door of the carriage swings open and you are greeted with the warm sun on your brow and a warm breeze. You can hear the rushing water of a nearby creek. “Aye, calm yourselves!” The carriageman, an old balding man with a thick beard and heavy sleepless eyes, yells to his horses. His voice causes a robin to flee from the branch of a nearby oak. You step up beside one of the horses, comforting the nearest one with a gentle pat on the nose. There is a narrow river running through the forest. It’s not too deep, a few twigs and stones stick out above the waters surface. No, the real concern that is causing the horses such dismay is a tree which has tumbled down, taking the wooden bridge over the river down with it. “Oh, Miss Kenshiko.” The carriageman notices you beside the horse. He takes a wooden pipe from his pocket and sucks on it. “I’m afraid the carriage can’t go any further.” He says with a frown, the pipe hanging from his lips. You share his frown, but only for a moment. Then, you feel a great joy in being able to enjoy this beautiful day on foot. “I don’t mind.” You smile at the carriageman. “It’s too nice a day to be cooped up in a carriage.” You grasp the strap of your satchel with both hands and look ahead. “How much further is it to Guilden?” The carriageman takes a puff from his pipe, lets the smoke hang in his mouth, and exhales. “It should only be a half hour venture on foot, I reckon.” He stands up and points over the collapsed bridge. “Just follow the trail and you’ll come out on the hill overlookin’ the lake.” “Thank you.” You reach into your pocket and throw the carriageman his payment for ferrying you so far. “I wish you a good day, sir.” With your boots to the dirt, you prepare for the final quarter of your travel. You hop across a few stones by the bridge, leap across the river and follow the road deeper into the forest. It’s beautiful, almost tranquil. The sun shines through the trees, critters scamper around your feet, chirping and chattering before vanishing into the bushes. A soft summer wind blows over you, rustling your hair. You feel relaxed as you walk briskly through the tranquil stretch of forest. Roughly five minutes later, as you are walking along, surrounding yourself with the sights and sounds of the Riverren forest, you suddenly hear footsteps running toward you; stressful boots thumping against the dirt, closing in on you. “Hey! Wait up!” A voice calls out from behind, urging for your attention. It’s a young girl travelling alone who beckons for your attention. She looks far too innocent to be a thief or a brigand. She is quite short, almost half a head shorter than you, her eyes gaze widely like a child and her auburn hair looks like it was cut by a drunk with a blunt knife; it was short and only got longer and messier the nearer it got to her ears. But it’s her “unique” attire that catches your eyes. She’s wearing a long mage robe with the sleeves cut off near her elbows, and a messy white shirt that looked more like an artists canopy, splattered and stained with all matters of colours and patterns. A belt full of vials, all filled with unknown concoctions of various colours, as well as a leather bandolier of potions are wrapped over her robes, and the most eye-catching of her apparel - a large wooden barrel, almost twice her size is hoisted on her back like a satchel, held in place with two leather straps that she’s grasping. The barrel hisses and a burst of steam erupts from the top. You hear it gurgling like a hungry beast from within. The young girl, despite hoisting that gargantuan barrel, does not struggle to catch up with you. She stops when she gets by your side and catches her breath. Up close, you see just how short she truly is - her eyes just meet your breasts. That’s somewhat of an impressive feat, since you were not too tall yourself. The girl huffs and puffs, her red cheeks inflate and deflate, her chest heaves and she pants, desperate to swallow all the air she can. Finally, she manages to blurt out some words. “Y-y-you… you’re h-heading for Guilden… right?” She struggles to speak between bouts of heavy panting. Her ragged breathing and flat heaving chest make you think lewdly. You blush, and avert your gaze. “Aha! You are! I knew you were!” She gives you a toothy grin. “I see that letter in your backpack.” You didn’t feel the need to give a response now the girl knew. Instead, you nod. “Maybe you should put the barrel down for a moment?” You say. “Ha!” The girl grins, her teeth showing through her smile. “Good idea!” She lets go of the straps and the barrel collapses behind her, kicking up dry dirt. “Ahhh…” She bends down, leaps up and stands up straight, stretching out her arms as high as she can. “That’s better!” She throws a hand out in your direction. “My name is Muaki!” She introduces herself, offering you her hand, which you accept reluctantly. “You say the first part like a cow!” She demonstrates with a moo, completely forgetting she had just pronounced her name while introducing herself. “So it’s Mooo-aki!” She grins. “I’m an alchemist from Waverton! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Though reluctant, you still feel obliged to introduce yourself, though Muaki’s ecstatic nature makes you feel especially shy. Probably all that cheeriness. You were never that outgoing, especially around energetic people. “My name is Shibo.” You start with a nervous quiver. “Shibo Kenshiko.” “Kenshiko?” Muaki tilts her head like a confused puppy at the sound of your name. After a moment to herself, she snaps her fingers her eyes begin to glimmer. “Ah! You’re from Orientia!” She goes quiet again, muttering under her breath and giggling. “Sorry, I was just running your name through my head! It’s really fun to say! Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. You should give it a try!” “There’s no need for that.” You say playfully. “I hear it enough almost everyday.” “I bet you do!” Muaki does not catch on to the subtle snarkiness in your voice. “Shibo Kenshiko. Shbo. Kenshiko. It’s so fun to say!” She tenses up, scrunches her face, and clenches her fists with overwhelming glee that leaves her feeling giddy. After repeating your name a few more times, she finally gets bored of saying it. “Sorry, I’m just really excited about getting to Guilden. Do you mind if we walk together?” “I… sure.” You say, resisting the urge to sigh. So much for enjoying the forest peacefully. But you’d feel guilty turning her down, and it was only a short walk to Guilden. “Ha! Great! I love walking with company!” She bends down and hoists the barrel back onto her back. It gurgles. “Let’s get going!” She points onward and starts walking, hunched over with the weight of the barrel on her back. You look at down, frowning at the sight of your scuffed boots. “I have to pee…” You mumble, hoping Muaki doesn’t hear you. That’s all that is on your mind. It had been lingering for a while but only now was it creeping up on you. Maybe it was the heat. You’d hoped to hold it in until you reached Guilden, or if the need got too demanding, you were not averse to wetting a patch of dry dirt behind a tree. But that option went out the window thanks to your newfound traveling companion. The stretch of forest seemed never ending and the tea you had downed before falling asleep was getting well acquainted with your bladder… perhaps a bit too well acquainted. “A half hour walk my fanny…” “Shibo! Is something the matter?” Muaki looks back, noticing her walking buddy is now absent.. Pushing back the urges in your bladder, you look to Muaki and shake your head. “It’s nothing.” You would not be resorting to a childish potty dance just yet. For now, you just had to endure it. You rush on to catch up with Muaki and together with your new friend walk along the trail.

Nice Ebony Wetting, Personal Friend Of Mine. received_1732765513454997.mp4

Sometimes, when women urinate, I’ve noticed that sometimes they make a hissing sound from the force of the pee gushing out, and it just arouses me so badly~ 💙 What are your opinions on hearing a girl having a piss-hiss?

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c134024c2b00

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5cd2215f0ede3

Would anybody ever consider drawing hentai of Masyanya for me? If so, post it here or P.M. it to me. Anyhow, even though she’s a bit creepy to look at... I enjoy Masyanya a awful lot, and I’d really like to see more Lewd art of her.

Okay, it's just one this time, but I will post on this thread whenever I make a new one :). I drank 2 cups of coffee and 2 pint glasses of water before this. I wear my cute rainbow socks and short black skirt. I try to hold it but I end up soaking my pad so much that my panties get wet too. Partial nudity I guess, you can see my bush at the end. Apparently pad wettings are rare, so I wanted to make one :)... Rainbow socks wetting pad and panties.wmv

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5ca8ba303c14c

a thing i made in source filmmaker tracer needs to pee but the bathroom is occupied after making sure the coast seems clear, tracer relieves herself in a dumpster, accidentally letting out a fart during the release tracerhastop.mp4

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c8e754cefd1e The sound you might hear in the middle is my pet cat opening the door. (She’s super smart :p)

View File JAV - MIAE-001 - School Girl Accident Leads to Bullying and Sex Title says it all, a couple of vignettes of a school girl desperate to pee, having an accident, and then having sex to prevent witnesses from telling. Cute panties, cute accident scenarios, typical sex. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 03/17/2019 Category Public wetting Clothing  

View File JAV - Upskirt Fingering Wetting in Public Sexy voyeuristic upskirts where the subject is fingered until she wets her panties. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 03/17/2019 Category Public wetting Clothing  

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a6a04d04c158

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c68d6db86ff5 This video has a very good shot of a peeing trans pussy, as I’d like to be near him and maybe hear a piss hiss. :3

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph59e0312688e35

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve shared an experience, and also, I wanted to share something pretty special, as I noticed I was getting very close to my 8000th post! This is quite a milestone and well, I hope you will all celebrate with me, by sharing more sexy wetting content and if you are interested, buying a pair of my dirty panties! I’m going to do a couple of posts and a video dump to celebrate, so here is my experience. I’ve had a couple of very hard months at work; a bunch of volunteers left and I’ve been scrambling to fill their roles. As such, I’ve been pretty busy and haven’t had much time for fun kinky stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had some sexy times with the hubby, and certainly watched some porn and masturbated with toys and all that, but I haven’t had a chance to do elaborate or public. Well, the other day I finally had some time off, and decided to go shopping at MetroTown. This is a big mall complex not too far from our place. I also decided to have a little bit of desperation fun while I was doing it, or rather, I kind of decided to have some desperation fun mid-way through running errands. Here’s what happened. It’s been getting chillier here, so I’ve started wearing trousers a lot more. But this day, it was bright and sunny out, which offered the perfect, and perhaps the last, opportunity to wear a nice skirt (without leggings). After lounging around the flat for a while and doing some house work, I decided to head out and deal with the growing list of small errands. I pulled on a cute dark grey pleated skirt,, the white cotton panties I’d been wearing under my PJs all morning. I buttoned up a lavender blouse, threw on a cardigan, and picked up a larger backpack to accommodate my shopping. I pulled my wallet out of my purse, grabbed a couple of items that were piled up by the door, threw in a couple of cloth shopping bags, and wandered off to the Skytrain to hop down to MetroTown. It was about 11 am by the time I arrived at the mall (it’s huge by the way), and I headed off to the washroom, as I’d forgotten to go before leaving my flat. I used the one nearest the Skytrain, which I always find the yuckiest, but it was close, and I kind of had to go. Hovering over the toilet, I noticed that my panties were already a little dirty/sticky from the trip over and the mornings activities. I love how white cotton shows every little stain. I then headed up to the second level to return a sports bra to the sporting goods store. My sister had bought it for me and well, she wasn’t aware that my breasts have grown since going on birth control (a long time ago), and she still apparently bought me a bra using my size from like more than a decade ago. I wasn’t impressed with their sports bras, and so I wandered around the mall, visiting a couple of shops until I found something really comfy and supportive from Lululemon. This took more than an hour, and so rather than getting into some serious shopping, I headed off to Blenz coffee on the main floor. I grabbed a big matcha late, and sat down, drinking the whole thing and watching people bustling by. Sometimes it’s fun to just sit and watch the world go by, and it certainly is when doing so is a luxury. During this time, my mind wandered, and I had a few naughty thoughts. Completely filled up on green tea, I headed out once more. I probably should have planned out my trip a little better, as I ended up wandering all over the mall, grabbing items off my list and doing a little browsing. Half an hour after leaving the coffee shop, I could feel myself filling up. I could have easily ducked into one of the many washrooms around the mall, but I was starting to feel a little naughty. I was at about a 6 on the desperation scale, the point where I would normally always head straight to the washroom, but decided to have a little bit of public desperation fun. It sort of flowed on from the things I had been contemplating at the coffee shop. I didn’t have a concrete plan, but I did feel like getting up to some naughty mischief. Maybe just some desperation perhaps? I continued browsing through some shops and felt myself getting increasingly desperate. I headed into Chapters and looked through some of the new arrivals and non-fictions sections. By the time I was checking out the always poorly populated philosophy section, I was at a 7. I played up my desperation, allowing myself to display my need to pee in subtle, mildly exhibitionistic ways. A little foot jiggle here, tightly crossed legs when I paused to look at a book, that sort of thing. To the keen observer, I would have likely appeared to be an antsy book browser. The problem is of course that browsing for books is certainly the kind of thing that you can just stop doing and use the washroom, so I decided to get back onto my pre-schedule list of errands. I headed over to T&T, the huge Asian food supermarket, and began filling a basket with items off my list. Having an almost-full basket of things is a great reason not to use the toilet. I worked my way methodically through the store, my desperation mounting to a solid 8 by the time I reached the tea section. I was playing up my desperation beyond an 8 though, for effect, and because of the little thrill of excitement that I got from knowing that other people around me in the shop could see that I had to pee. My actions were less subtle at this point, given my mounting real desperation. I was not at the point of holding myself, but I would twist my legs together whenever I stopped to look for something, and this was often followed by dancing on the spot. I spotted the sidelong glances of other patrons around me when I jiggle about. My basket was mostly full and I only had a couple more items to purchase by the time I made it to the noodle isle. I was still at a solid 8 on the desperation scale, but acting like I was a 9.5. I put down my basket, crossed my legs, and did slip my hand firmly between my thighs as I pondered the noodle selection. There are so many options and the packaging is always confusing (and it’s typically not in English, so you really have to look at the ingredients if you are looking for something specific. I found a couple that I was looking for, and put them, one-handed, into my basket, all the while holding myself firmly. A younger Asian man came around the corner as I was depositing the final pack of noodles into my basket, curtsey-style, so as not to put too much pressure on my bladder, or flash my panties at anyone. As soon as I saw him I whipped my hand out from between my legs, though I could tell from his look that he had noticed. I quickly retrieved my basket and hurried off, flushing a little and too embarrassed to look back to see if he was watching me. I still had a couple of items on the list, but my feigned extreme desperation was kind of getting to my head (and bladder), and I was at that ‘find a bathroom now!’ stage of desperation. I went to get the final item on my list – dumpling wrappers in case you care – before heading to the checkout. There was of course a line, though not a very long one and I wiggled and crossed my legs with increasingly real desperation (about an 8.5) as I waited for the two people ahead of me to check out. After the first person wrapped up, which seemed like it took far too long, I was able to unload my basket on to the little conveyor belt. This done, I could hold the empty basket in one hand in front of my crotch, to cover up the fact that my second hand had snaked its way between my thighs and was once again pressing the thick fabric of my skirt into my vagina. The additional pressure didn’t seem to help too much, and I was still very rapidly wiggling my thighs and legs. While I tried not to make eye contact with the people around me, I was acutely aware of their looks. My heart rate increased and I had those sexy and fluttery little butterfly feelings that I love and hate so much about embarrassing public situations. The person in front of me was a middle-aged woman, and she had a full shopping cart. I had noticed her giving me a sympathetic look when she began unloading her cart a little while ago. I think out of solidarity with me and my obvious desperate plight, she hurried along her interaction. The checkout person was a teen or university student, and she also gave me a sympathetic look. This made me blush even more and look away, concentrating on carefully arranging my items on the conveyor belt to maximize how fast I could load my backpack. I did not notice the two other people who had lined up behind me, only that they were there, boxing me in, preventing my dashing off and simply abandoning my groceries. As the woman ahead of me fumbled in her purse for her credit card, I switched from holding myself (which was really not as discreet as I had thought), to using both hands to prep my backpack and doing a little pee pee dance. I was so caught up with my own predicament – no longer feigned – that I didn’t notice the man behind me asking for a little grocery divider, and instead, the checkout girl had to give him one. I noticed too late and in classic Canadian style apologized, mumbling something like, ‘ah sorry.’ He said ‘no worries’ and went about pretending to ignore the fact that I was wiggling about in front of him in the checkout line, desperate to pee. The woman ahead of me finally completed her transaction and headed on her way, with one last sympathetic look over her shoulder at me. I reached the checkout girl. I had already removed my wallet from my backpack to speed up the interaction. “Hello, how is your day going?” I asked in a meek kind of voice. “Not bad, thanks.” She replied curtly, and began rapidly scanning my items. I prayed that nothing would need a price check or any such complication. “How about yours?” She responded. “Oh not so bad…” I replied vaguely. “Did you find everything you needed?” She inquired. I nodded, not wanting to have to concentrate on a conversation, and my mounting desperation. I let her get on with her job, not wanting to slow her down for any reason. “These ones are one sale if you wanted a second one half off.” She observed at one point, holding up a package of noodles. I must have not noticed when I was picking them out, or forgotten to pick up a second pack, which was understandable, given my predicament. “Oh, that’s ok.” I added quickly. I began packing the scanned items into my backpack as quickly as possible. She scanned the final items, and at this point, I transitioned from almost comical pee pee dance, to crossed legs. It had been over an hour since I downed the very large green tea and I had reached a real 9 on the desperation scale. I hadn’t quite planned this out. Usually when I plan to get up to some desperation, pee, or diaper fun in public, I plan things out, but today was more spontaneous, and I was reaching a point of real and serious desperation. The kind of point where you are in real risk of a very public accident. I don’t have the kind of bladder which allows me to let out little leaks to relieve the pressure. I have been practicing, and can sometimes let out a little if I really concentrate and also if I’m absolutely desperate. These little leaks do sometimes happen without my control, but are very often followed by a rather longer release of pee. I really didn’t want that to here in the narrow checkout isle of the T&T Supermarket in front of a group of strangers. The thought of it made my heart race, and my pulse quicken, but also terrified me. Maybe I did want to have a little accident? I mused a little, about the possibility of relaxing, just a little bit, to let out a drop into my panties. I immediately decided against it, as I didn’t want to make a mess and involve the people around me. I clenched down with my PC muscles, removed the hand which was once again pressed between my legs (I had not even been conscious of having done so), and packed the last few items into my bag. “Debit please.” I said, anticipating her question, and she punched a bunch of buttons on the till. She indicated that I could use the machine and I punched in my pin. “Would you like a receipt?” She inquired. “Yes please.” I muttered, replacing my debit card into my wallet and stuffing it into my mostly full backpack. The machine seemed to take forever to print. She tore receipt from the machine and handed it to me. “Just outside the doors in the parking lot, turn left, and then take another left.” She said, cryptically. I hastily put my backpack on, while still doing a pee pee dance, with as much discretion as I could muster. “Huh?” I inquired, not sure what she was talking about, though it should have been obvious. “If you need a washroom, they are just around the corner from the exit.” She clarified. I immediately felt my face flush with warmth. “Oh.” I replied, dumbly. “Thank you.” I had clearly been quite obvious. The fact that a stranger had pointed me in the direction of the washrooms without my having to ask was acutely embarrassing, though I had of course been asking for this kind of treatment. Still lacking decorum, I decided to make a dash for the toilets. Now I can usually make it to the washroom with a bladder at a ‘comfortable’ 9, I have in the past. The trick is to be close to the washroom and to not run or jostle too much. I knew where the washroom was and I could probably make it at a good walking speed. However, still play acting just a little, I rushed out of the exit. The parking lot outside of the exit was busy, with shoppers milling about, cars driving past, and people randomly standing about checking their phones. I zigged and zagged between them at a brisk pace, but still not a jog. I found the main hallway and took a left and there was the sign and hallway leading to the washrooms. It was then when my slightly foggy, desperation confused, brain made a naughty decision; Rather than continuing my brisk pace and hurrying into the washroom, I decided to make a sprint for it. I gripped the straps of my backpack with both hands and took off at a good pace down the hallway towards the washrooms. This was of course a bad idea, if I was hoping to keep my panties dry. While I’m not very good at intentionally letting out little leaks when I’m desperate (and instead tend to just lose control as I mentioned), I am particularly known for leaking when working out. The increased pressure from my running footfalls jostled my bladder, and I could feel a little leak with each running step as I approached the ladies room. Coming around the corner of the entrance of the washroom, I almost collided with a middle-aged woman, and I was forced to slow my pace. Bearing down hard on my PC muscles, to stop the leaking. I hoped that I could find a free stall. Fortunately, Metrotown has well-provisioned washrooms, so that when I entered the relatively crowded washroom, I was quickly able to locate an empty stall. Down at the end, it was sitting with its door ajar. Now, safely inside the washroom, I slowed my pace, weary of slipping on the wet floor, or bumping into one of the many women dotted along the long line of sinks to my side. No longer running, I quickly let go of my backpack strap with my right hand, and, reaching up under my skirt so as not to press is fabric into my damp panties, I held myself tightly. I was largely oblivious to the fact that I was holding myself in a very undignified fashion, and in such a way as to reveal a flash of white cotton to the other women in the washroom. My face burned with warmth as a hastily walked past various women at the sink. Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of them turn to stare at me as she caught my reflection in the mirror. Finally, heart pounding, I reached the empty stall, hand still pressed firmly between my very public, and very wet panties. I pushed the door close, and fumbled with the lock with my left hand. I felt a jet of warmth strike the hand between my legs. I gave up on the lock, removed my wet hand, and used it to yank down my panties, all the while stepping back and spreading my legs. My wet panties were stretched between my thighs as I sort of squatted over the toilet (my backpack and discomfort with sitting on unwiped public toilets preventing me from sitting down). My panties were barely at my thighs when my body released, splashing furiously into the toilet with a loud hiss. As the pressure subsided, I angled my legs more, to prevent splashing and stop the little dribble I felt running down one leg. I peed for a good minute, and possibly a little longer. This is the maximum duration of a Rachel bladder, and I was awash with a wave of relief once I reached the dribbling conclusion of my pee. It took several wadded up balls of toilet paper to dry my sex, legs, and the toilet seat. My panties were another matter. They were rather wet, and I used even more toilet paper to dab them. All the while I had been peeing, I was paranoid that someone would burst in on me, and see my drenched panties spread between my thighs. I was lucky, I suppose, having chosen a stall further from the entrance. As soon as I had stopped peeing, I latched to door, to give me added privacy as I dried myself off. I was careful to inspect my skirt, which had avoided getting wet, which was great, given the embarrassing and revealing steps I’d taken to keep it that way. There may have been a couple of little damp spots on the inside, but the fabric of this particular skirt is pretty thick. Now, as most of you will know by now, I have long carried a spare pair of panties in my purse. This is a habit that comes from long experience with my bladder, its foibles, and also my sometimes intentional wet fun times. While I dried myself off, I came to the realization that I did not have my purse, but rather, I had removed my wallet from my purse before leaving home, and had instead brought a backpack. While the backpack is a large one, capable of holding all of my groceries, it is not as well provisioned as my purse – it lacks a spare pair of panties, pads, makeup and the usually stuff that accumulates in ones purse. I thought about my options. I had largely completed my important errands (I only had to pick up some stamps), and so I could head directly home in my very wet panties, enjoying the cold wetness of them against my skin, and possibly leaving a little wet patch on the seat of the Skytrain. But it was a long walk home, and I still wasn’t quite done with other optional errands (for example, popping over to the library and doing some more window shopping). I wasn’t quite ready to go home, but I was not up for wandering about the mall and area in rather wet panties. I could of course remove my panties and go ‘comando’ but this was not a very good idea. While I’m known for my mild exhibitionism, and get very excited at the prospect of playing up my desperation for a couple of strangers, or flashing my panties at a washroom full of other women (or some of my other adventures), wearing a relatively short skirt without panties is a little too much for me. I would have to navigate the very steep, upskirt inducing, stairs at the Skytrain station, as well as escalators and open areas in Metrotown, where people beneath me could spy my shaved girl parts. I decided that I had been a bad girl, and as such, I would have to wear my wet panties a little longer, but that I would need some other stopgap to get me home. I wadded up a little toilet paper, making a small pad, and pressed this between my legs before hiking up my wet panties once more. The paper would keep my skin dry for a little while, and also reminded me of previous accidents when I was younger, and some of the steps I’d taken after these. My heart was still pounding when I flushed and headed out of the stall to wash my hands. I didn’t recognize any of the women at the sinks from when I had dashed in, not that I would have likely been able to. I dried my hands and headed out, acutely aware of the dampness of the edges of the gusset of my panties, touching my inner thighs, despite the wad of toilet paper. I had a couple of options, and mulled them over in my head. I could go and buy some new panties, I always love new panties, and the packs of cotton girl’s panties that I wear are not that expensive. I was certainly not going to buy something fancy from La Senza or La Vie En Rose, girls who wet their panties are clearly not ready for big girl lingerie. Given my cheap taste for cute cotton little girls panties, I headed all the way across the mall to Walmart. Rather than going straight for the girls isle, I opted to wander about a little. As I have often done, I found myself wandering down the diaper isle, ogling the packages. I’m sure any diaper lovers out there have done the same. Like a moth to the flame, I hovered about the isle, looking for new arrivals, and seeing what I could find. I stared at the packaging of the Goodnites (no change there) still my favorite go to diaper (so cute, so nostalgic), and then worked my way along to the Pull-ups. Now I’ve not worn Pull-ups for many years, and I’m almost certain they don’t fit all that well. I do, after all, wear the L/XL sized Goodnites, and despite these fitting well, I have my doubts about going down to the 4t-5t sized Pull-ups. But right then and there, I decided to try. So I mulled over my options, looking at the feel and learn, night time, and other options available. I finally, after some serious mulling over, decided to pick an adorable pair of regular girls Pull-ups with learning designs, of the largest size I could find. I was excited at the prospect, and even if they didn’t fit all that well, I could still enjoy the stickers that they promised to have inside. I carried these to the checkout as my single item, and paid. I’m at the age where I could have legitimately been buying Pull-ups for my kid, and as I’ve bought Goodnites on many occasions in person, I didn’t get that excited rush that sometimes accompanies buying incontinence products in public. No one knew that I was buying these pull-ups because I’d had an accident, but I knew, and this gave me a naughty little secret which did get my heart pounding just a little bit harder. I got a bag for my item, and headed out, making my way straight for the washrooms. They were easy to find and I didn’t need any help. This time, I headed to the family washroom, and found it open. Feeling a little sneaky, being bereft of a family, I smuggled my way inside, and locked the door. The first thing that I did was open the pack of Pull-ups and give it a big smell, appreciating the new diaper scent. I had pulled out one with a lady doctor character on them. I appreciated them from various angles, taking in the ‘learning designs’ and colours. I also felt them and they felt considerably thinner than Goodnites, which I suppose makes sense, given that these are supposed to be training pants, and not designed to take a full night time bladder’s worth. I did worry that they would leak if I released a very full bladder into them, my Goodnites do this when I wear them (usually when I’m laying down). I pulled down my panties and removed the toilet paper, which was damp. I then pulled down the changing table and finally remembered to take a couple of photos for your perverts. I set up a little still life with wet panties and shameful pull-ups. I then patted myself dry, again, with some toilet paper, as I had become a little damp in the intervening shopping time – both from my panties, and from my natural juices due to all the excitement. I pre-stretched the Pull-ups, a technique I’ve used on smaller pull-ups before, and then slowly shimmied them up my hips. They fit surprisingly well, but were still tight. I gave my legs a couple of practice steps to test out whether or not the sides would hold, and they seemed to do their job. I supposed that they would hold, as long as I didn’t like do any squat thrusts, or similar moves. I did worry for a second that if they didn’t fit, they could tear and fall down while I was wearing them! Or one side would tear, and I would face the awkward situation of a diaper hanging half-attached, under a rather short skirt. I then pondered my options once more. I could pull my panties over the Pull-up, keeping it in place, like a pad. This would work, but also I’d still get the wet clammy feeling of wet panty gusset against my legs. The whole point of the Pull-ups was to wear something dry (and also protective, after all, I’d had am embarrassing bathroom accident in my big girl panties, I told myself, excited by the inner dialogue). The other option was just to risk it, and avoid hip-spreading activities, and hope for the best. I opted for this choice, as putting wet panties over top of a dry clean diaper is just not something a good girl does. I balled up my wet panties so that the dry bits covered the wet and stuffed them into my backpack. There was insufficient room in my backpack for the opened diapers, so I pulled out a cloth bag and put the pack in this. I then headed out into the world. I then went for a rather longer walk all the way to the public library, which is on the other side of the mall and through a lovely little park. There I dropped off a book and picked up a couple of holds I had, stuffing these into the bag with the pull-ups. I spent some time browsing the shelves. It had been a good while since I had peed and while I did this, I felt the urge to pee growing. I was also careful to hold the back of my skirt when walking up the stairs at the library, nervous about flashing my Pull-ups at a library denizen. I was at a very comfortable 4 or 5 when I finally left the library (with a couple additional books and a documentary) and headed back to the mall. I had some time to kill and was keen crack into one of my new books, so I located a cool bench in the park, arranged myself so that I was not sitting on my skirt, and pulled out one of the holds that I have been dying to read. I ploughed through a couple of chapters before I registered that I needed to pee again, properly this time. A good solid 6. Not wanting to get up and abandon my book, and also, still suffused with naughty thoughts, I closed my eyes, and released. I could feel warmth suffuse my girl parts and the diaper filling up. The peed flowed differently inside the Pull-up than it does in a Goodnite. I find Goodnites a little more thirsty, so the pee doesn’t run as much, but rather gets absorbed. In a Pull-up, the pee sort of ran all over getting my bum wet quickly. I bore down after a good 30 seconds (as soon as I was able), worried about leaks. I listened for the tell tale patter of droplets hitting the cement beneath me, indicating that the diaper had leaked, but I heard nothing. While there were no passersby, I reached my hand between my legs and felt for wetness. The Pull-up felt squishy and warm but I didn’t feel any leaks. I read more of my book, all the while enjoying the warm squishy feeling of the wet diaper between my legs. After a couple more chapters, I was starting to get chilly and decided to get up and head back to the mall to get changed before heading home. I hoisted my heavy backpack, picked up my bag, and headed back to the mall. The wet diaper under my skirt felt heavy and rubbed against my thighs subtly. I navigated my way into the mall and found the nearest washroom. Once again, I surreptitiously made my way into the family washroom and barred the door. Because I had in no way emptied my bladder earlier, I wiped off the toilet seat, pulled down my Pull-ups, and peed. I tore the sides of the diaper pretty badly yanking them down, and I tore them off completely while I was peeing. I inspected the gathers and cute designs on the Pull-ups and noticed that I had made the ‘learning designs’ thoroughly disappear. It looked like I needed some more time to learn. After wiping myself, and snapping some pics of the wet Pull-up for all you perverts, I rummaged in my bag and found another diaper. This one I tore badly trying to pre-stretch it, so I stuffed it back in the bag (even torn diapers can be fun, but at home), and pre-stretched another. I carefully shimmied this one up, checked myself in the mirror, washed my hands, and then headed off into the mall once more. I was all excited at having changed myself in a public washroom, and rethinking the whole adventure on my head as I walked to the SkyTrain. I was feeling very naughty by the time I arrived, and as I was on the ground floor, I was less than careful with holding the back of my skirt as I made my way up the steep stairs to the platform. Did I flash a tight pair of Pull-ups to a pervy stranger beneath me? Possibly. But even the prospect of doing this quickened my pulse. I sat on the SkyTrain most ladylike, thank you very much, my adventures with subtle exhibitionism only go so far, and I texted my hubby to see if he was home, he was, and I let him know that he should be ready for a very horny Rachel when I got home. I was throbbing by the time I reached my stop (which isn’t many stops), and I hurried home. My husband didn’t say anything when I got in the door, pushed him into the bedroom and removed my clothes, revealing a brand of diaper that we don’t normally have in the house. It didn’t stay on long however, and I got myself good and satisfied. Well, I hope you enjoyed my adventure, I will share some more soon of course. If you appreciate my work, do please consider buying a pair of my panties or just getting me something off my wishlist, the more fun things I have to wear and play with, the more stories I can share! http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties Here’s to the next 8000…. Rachel

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c6c519946699

View File Assorted Wetting Videos Some recent finds with wetting mostly. Contains nudity and girls making out. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 02/17/2019 Category Female videos Clothing  

View File Assorted Pissing Videos Here are a handful of peeing videos I came across recently, new to me, and I also have no idea how the one couple has sex while peeing.... ***Sex and nudity *** Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 02/17/2019 Category Peeing