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Found 13 results

  1. diokno44x

    Sandbox Wetting

    Been awhile eh? This little memory came flooding back to me (pun not attended), when I was walking from the store a few days ago, and the route I took this time happened to take me pass a local park+playground next to my neighborhood. Even though the sky was overcast, quite a few families were here. Anyway, as I glanced at the sandbox I used to play in, on my way home, my mind flashed back to a wetting incident back during preschool. This was in the spring, and the day was fairly warm, as it usually is in Cali. Anyway, due to the weather, and due to a fair few of my long legged pants were in the wash (twice due to, ah, incidents involving me and underwear), I was garbed in shorts, My current attire at this time was a loose lime green T-shirt, a pair of charcoal grey cargo shorts, and some green and white sneakers. Now, this was one of my diaper/Pull-Upless days, for two reasons. 1. It was Potty Test Day, and 2. I had used my last one, and gotten changed out of it, shortly after arriving in the YMCA lobby bathroom. Anyway, I was playing in the sandbox in the outdoor area of the YMCA. It wasn't as. well, furnished as the playground I would use in, say, that park I was talking about up top, or the playground I would use every recess in kindergarten and first grade at Saint John Vianney, but five year old me didn't mind, it was simple, but fun. Anyway, as I was building whatever came to mind with the sand, I felt a familiar twinge in my bladder, but tried to put it off. Eventually, as time wore on, my need to pee slowly, but surely increased, but I tried to keep from squirming too much. Now, you may wonder why I didn't run off and use the bathroom, well, a few reasons. 1. Like most kids, I was too busy playing. 2. The nearest bathroom was relatively far away, and as I was close to bursting, I didn't think I'd make it. and 3. I was uncomfortable with public bathrooms, as I've said before, at least without my mother being there with me. Plus, someone had gone in only a moment earlier, and I wasn't comfortable with using the bathroom if I knew someone that wasn't a family member was in the vicinity of me. Eventually, the pressure grew too much. Quickly making sure no one, classmate or caretaker could see me, I spread my legs a bit, as I would often do when wetting my diaper and if I was sitting. Slowly, a warm trickle of pee began forming, and began to dampen the sand beneath me. I had to turn my full sit into a bit of a squat, so I didn't get wet sand on my shorts. My pee trickled out, until it came to an end. A decently sized, about te size of my fist now, wet patch was on my shorts. Thankfully, it wasn't too noticeable from the color of my shorts. That done, I moved to a different part of the sandbox to play in
  2. diokno44x

    So Close, Yet So Far 2

    Alright, so this happened back in preschool, all the way back in the school year of 2003. This wasn't at the YMCA, but at one of the preschools I had a trial day at. My mom would take me to local preschools, and have me try it out for a day. This place had a stringent anti-diaper policy, which my mom and I found out when the teacher, who was a brunette, and that's really all I can remember of her, told us, and as they had class bathroom breaks every hour, and would check for accidents before sending each student, one by one, into the bathroom (which I did, and still find odd as the bathroom had multiple stalls. Then again, it could be cause some people, especially kids at that age, may be uncomfortable with "going" when someone else is around). So, knowing this, I feigned having to use the bathroom. I squeezed my little legs together, doing a potty dance, and tugged on my mother's pant leg. "Mommy, I gotta potty." I said. My mother caught on, and took me to the nearest bathroom. There, she helped me remove my diaper. As she did so, she asked me, "Do you think you can go a whole day without your diaper Chris?" this was the first time, if memory serves, I had been diaperless, aside from when I was using the toilet (which more often than not, amounted to just the home toilet or a training potty I had under the bed)l and when I was being bathed. I nodded, a bit hesitant, as while I was potty trained, my body was conditioned to use my diaper normally whenever I was outside the house, or at least in a public bathroom when my mom wasn't around. Anyway, just in case, she stashed my diaper in this Spongebob backpack I had. She kissed and hugged me, and sent me off. Cut to roughly an hour later. A class bathroom break had called, we had lined up, and I REALLY needed to pee. It wasn't that bad, at first, just a quick hold of my crotch to try and stem the oncoming flow, About halfway down the line, there were roughly twenty kids in the trial day, I was having to let out small droplets, and the occasional spurt. By the time I was let in, I was threatening to burst. Not comfortable with using the toilet, knowing I wouldn't be able to make it to the toilet fully in time, I simply sat on toilet, and let go. An intense feeling of relief flooded me, as much as urine began flooding my sweatpants. As I got up, my, thankfully dark blue, now a tinge darker, pants clinging to me. Removing my damp pants, I brought them up to one of those hand dryer things, and used those to quicken the dryness, visual wise, of my pants. I put them back on, washed my hands, and left the bathroom.
  3. diokno44x

    malefemale Putting the P in Pool

    Before I begin: A belated Happy Thanksgiving and a welcome from Black Friday to you all.... Now, let me take you back to my days at the YMCA, which I've recounted quite often. On this occasion, we were having a class swimming lesson. I was, and still am to an extent, not the best swimmer. Prior to this, we were all asked to go into the nearby bathrooms, and change into swim trunks, or swimsuits for the girls. As I changed out of my current attire, which was a pair of blue shorts, a green T-shirt, and my shoes, I came to one obstacle, my diaper. Now, normally, I'd be fine with keeping it on, however, it wasn't a swim diaper. And while I hadn't been diapered and in the water all that often, even at that age I knew copious amounts of liquids+non-swim diaper=mass leakage at best, and falling apart of said diaper at the worst. Feeling a twinge in my bladder, I decided to untape my diaper, and tuck it in with the rest of my clothes. I then slipped the swim trunks on, these were a dark blue in color, probably closer to midnight blue. I placed my clothes and diaper, which I had folded and placed inside my bundled shirt, into a shelf with my name on them, alongside my shoes. Now, we waited in line as each of us did doggy paddles and other basic aquatic maneuvers, three people at a time. It was while I was waiting in line, pretty much at the back, that my need to pee came back full force. I remember holding myself, and shifting a bit, as I tried to keep my urine in. While someone else might have used the bathroom, me being uncomfortable with restrooms outside my home, especially if I say, didn't have my mom with me, I let out a few dribbles here or there as the line shuffled forward, squeezing my legs together to help out. The splashing of the others in the pool didn't help matters. As I neared closer to the line, I had to stop holding myself with my hand, though I was still crossing my legs, and I guessed the teacher, when I was one of the three up, thought it was waterborne fear induced anxiety, as she got to my high level, smiled, and said something like "Hey, its alright, you can do this." something motivational like that. Giving her a smile, I dived in. While I was doggypaddling, all the water around me aggravated my bladder. As I was swimming, my mind thought "Well, I'm already in water." and I released my bladder. Relief and warmth filled me, as surely as my pee filled the water. Thankfully, my pee was relatively clear. I got out, my shorts wet from both pee and pool water. I sat down nearby, toweling off, while I waited for the remaining handful of students to finish up. Once everyone was done, we were once again directed to change back. A smile blossomed on my young face as the security of my diaper once more was wrapped around me. I fixed my clothes, and went on my diapered day.
  4. Well, this one came to mind, and is, now that I think about it, the third time I used a teapot in my preschool as a makeshift toilet. I feel sorry for that teapot, but well, when you gotta go, plus it doesn't have feelings. My morning started off fairly usual. Wake up in bed at around 5 or so. I quietly played some video games, barely caring about the condition of my diaper as part of me was still asleep. After my mom woke up, she gave me my breakfast, which was oatmeal and a bottle of milk. After that, my mom changed me out of my used night diaper, and into a fresh one, before getting me dressed for the day. As it was a bit on the warmer side, today I was dressed in a pair of a shorts and a T-shirt. The shorts had a garter, and could easily be tugged on and off, whether to use the bathroom, or to change my diaper, etc. Well, we arrived a bit early to the preschool, about five or so minutes. With that little extra time, my mom took me to the YMCA lobby's bathroom (the lobby area was pretty damn big, and seemed even bigger to my 5 year old self), to try and go. I still wasn't yet comfortable with the bathrooms at the YMCA, having barely used them for their intended purposes (If I didn't use the toilet, I'd at least pretend to) After a moment of sitting on the toilet, and only a tiny dribble of pee coming out, my mom rediapered me, and asked if I could try and use the bathroom while I was there, to which I said that I would try. After my mom dropped me off, I greeted the teacher, who, as I did not know her name, let's call her Mrs. Winters. She was a woman in, at least, her late twenties. She had two aides, one a bit older, the other around the same age, and began doing some arts and crafts. While I was doodling a picture with some crayons, I felt a familiar pressure building up, well, two pressures. I got up, and went over to a little Playskool house. Once inside, I slid my shorts down, and undid my diaper. In my five year old mind, I guessed this would help me in keeping up with what my mom had asked of me, and because this was the only diaper I had brought with me. Stashing it under one of the chairs, I fixed my shorts, and headed back out. A little while after, I began feeling a tad bit desperate. Even though I was quite potty trained by that point, my muscles were still developing. As I was doing some arts and crafts once more, I began holding my crotch with one hand, the other holding the crayon, while I pressed my butt into the colorful plastic seat, to try and keep both my bladder and bowels in check. I spurted out a bit, warming my hand a tad, as my bladder spasmed a bit. Getting up, and now walking swiftly, but cautiously, trying to avoid unloading into my shorts (At least in view of everyone.), I began looking for either a quiet place to fill my shorts, or a place to go in. I knew I wouldn't make it to the bathroom (Which were on the other end of the room for me, and again, wasn't yet comfortable with non-home bathrooms yet, at least not when my mom or the like wasn't around), and even if I could make it back to the Playskool play house, I don't think I would have been able to hold it in to fully put my diaper on. That is when I saw it. Sitting on a shelf, I grabbed the well worn tea pot, and set it down. Making sure no one was looking, I tugged my shorts down, just enough to go, plopped down, and used it as a makeshift toilet. Satisfied, I closed the lid, and set it aside. That done, I went back to the Playskool playhouse, and rediapered myself. And now, even though its past, a Halloween wetting. Now this occurred in first grade. I was going as Tuxedo Mask, from Sailor Moon. Or rather, a makeshift Tuxedo Mask costume out of what my mom and I could find around the house. Well anyway, this little incident occured around the time of the costume parade. Basically, the classes would make a sort of square in the courtyard, and each class of the eight grades, so about 16 classes in total, would walk around the square for a minute or two, showing off their costumes to the rest of the school. Anyway, as my class was one of the firsts to get let out for this, we had to wait for the other, like, twelve or so classes to get into the circle. It was during this time that I felt a twinge in my bladder, but put it off. As my class was started the walk about, my need to pee rose. Letting go, I miscalculated how much I needed to pee, and my Pull-Up leaked a bit. Not too noticeable, but enough that it trailed down my legs a bit
  5. Oh God how I loathed these days at the YMCA. Alright, so, let me break it down for you. Back when I when I was enrolled in the preschool course of my local YMCA back in 2003, there would be occasional days wherein the teacher would have "Potty Test Days". This was to help younger and or newer students get acclimated to use the bathroom, and to help remind those of us who had been there a bit to use the bathroom when we needed to, and not wait till the cusp of an accident. So, on these days, which were fairly uncommon, at most they'd happen twice a month, and then, at three times a day, which were right after everyone in the class was accounted for in the roll call, right before we headed out to recess, and right before the day ended and our parents picked us up. We would be lined up, check for accidents, then sent in to the bathroom one by one. Which, I get it, privacy and all, but the YMCA I went to, the bathrooms in the "classroom" area had at least four stalls, so why didn't they send us in groups, would have been more efficient that way IMO. Now, you might be wondering to yourself, considering a number of my memories have stated I was, more often than not, diapered full time prior to the summer between 2nd and 3rd grade, how, whenever these little events happened, was I not caught whenever they checked, as surely they would at least hear a muffled crinkling noise. Well, as the teacher would announce when a dreaded PTD the day prior to it, I would be ready for it, so whenever I was dropped off by my mom, I'd head into either the main lobby bathroom, or the preschool bathroom, whichever was closest, and take off my diaper. Or, if I didn't have time to do that, such as me arriving a bit later than I normally did, then I would, if I were in the back of the line, pull part of my pants away so I could access my diaper, or even slide them off if the teacher and her aides were busy with another student, and then shimmy diaper down to around my knees or so, then fix my pants. Well, this particular incident came to pass during one such Potty Test Day in my fourth week there. I had removed my diaper shortly before the first class wide bathroom break, stashing it away inside a plush pile near the bathroom, and after a bit of playing, we got in line for the check and then were sent into the bathroom. I was a few students (there were about 20 or so of us), from the center of the line, when i felt a need to poop. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. I would have simply shifted a bit, pushed my poop out, and be done with it. However, the checks the teacher did varied. It was a 50/50 chance of her either just patting you and then sending you in, or, like how some mothers and babysitters check, pulling the back of the pants out, and I didn't have the assurance a diaper gave in covering up the scent of the mess, so I used all the toilet training I had the time, to hold it in. It wasn't what one would call easy, as, being five, my muscles were still in development, and also there were about seven kids in front me (Luckily a number of students were absent) in line a head of me. As the seconds and minutes ticked by and by belly kept on gurgling up a storm, I realized I'd have to concentrate more and more on holding my poop in. Whereas at the beginning it was just a slight grumble and I could hold it in by simply clamping however. by the time I was nearly at the head of the line, I was pressing my hands to my butt, tooting, bouncing a bit, and basically doing a mini potty dance of sorts, and I could feel my control starting to wane. I managed to stop potty dancing as soon as the kid in front of me was sent in. After what felt like an agonizing minute of the kid leaving then me being checked, I was sent in. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt my control slipping. Quickly grabbing some paper towels, I shoved them into the back of my pants. Realizing there'd be no point in even trying to hold it in now, I simply squatted down, as my poop coiled and splattered in the paper in the jeans I was wearing. A sense of relief filled every fiber of my being, as much as my warm morning poop was filling my pants. I slowly stood up, and carefully removed my pants. Thankfully, the two ply paper towels had acted as a buffer, which I dumped out of my pants into the toilet, so all I had to deal with were a few, small chunks, which I wiped off. Using some water and one of those hand drying things, I cleaned my pants off, and slipped them back on. Once I was able to, I taped my diaper back on. And to think this all came back to me after a bad run in with a chili cheese dog....
  6. diokno44x

    malefemale Wettering the Flowers

    So this little incident occurred when i was in preschool, so around age five or so. This was in the spring time, I think it was around early to mid May. It was a bit warmer out, so rather than my usual get-up of a white T-shirt, dark blue sweatpants, and matching sweater, I was garbed in a lime green T-shirt with some swirls on it in a kind of Triskelion-esque pattern, a pair of checkered shorts, and my shoes. In a bit of early child adventurousness (I blame Tommy Pickles), and perhaps a bit of curiosity, my five year old mind wondered "Can I go today without my diaper.", and so, after being dropped off, I went into the bathroom. Shimmying my shorts down (I would only start to deal with clasp pants in kindergarten, these, like the sweatpants, only had a garter), my somewhat chubby fingers manuevered around the tapes, and untaped my diaper. Grabbing it and folding it in half, I stowed it away, if memory serves, in the crevice between the little trash can, and the wall. Fixing my shorts, I left the bathroom. It was a bit after Arts and Crafts, a few hours of snacks and juice boxes later, that I felt a familiar twinge in my younger bladder. Pressing a hand to my crotch, I used all the potty training I had (And I had been potty trained. I don't know what age though), and managed to clamp down on my need to pee. Now, our preschool had a fairly small garden in the back that the teachers would often, weather permitting, allow some of students to help out in, things like watering the plants or doing some minor hoeing to make way for seeds, etc. Well, the next portion of the day, the teacher and her assistants picked out a handful of students, me being one of them. As I exited the classroom with one of the TA's and the three other students, my need to pee slowly, but surely, began to grow. It didn't help that I was assigned to watering duty. Crossing my legs a bit, I looked over my shoulder. The aide was helping one of my classmates with hoeing, and the other two were busy with their own tasks. Shifting a bit closer to the plants, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to slide the front of my shorts down in time to save them from getting even a quarter's sized stain, I let go. Relief and warmth filled me as the front of my shorts darkened, and sprayed onto the earth below, mixing with the water from the spray can. A bit dripped down my legs as I finished up, and kept on watering till the can was empty.
  7. diokno44x

    Preschool Accident

    Well, considering the trend going on, I thought I´d post a few of my accidents outside of a thread anyone can post their´s in. This was when I was about five or so. Maybe closer towards turning age six. This was sometime in 2003 or 2004. I was attending the local YMCA. This was one of my most memorable accidents. I went to the local YMCA for preschool, or maybe it was daycare. Maybe it was both, moving on. I was wearing a light blue shirt, dark blue sweatpants, and some shoes. Now, here's the thing, gonna lay a little backstory about me back then. You see, I wasn't technically potty trained. True, I knew how to use the toilet, and how to tell when I had to go, but using diapers and beings changed seemed to help me bond more with my mom. I wasn't nervous about using diapers, and was never caught, not even by the staff. I would fill them, and no one would notice. On that day, I had a pretty substantial breakfast, including a bottle of milk or two. On that day, we were studying the Chinese Zodiac. We were called up to pick the animal we were born under, cut it out, and get it pasted onto two Popsicle sticks. I, at the time, thought I had been born under the dragon, because dragons are cool, and I liked them. What my five year old mind didn't know, which I would find out a few years after, when I was eight or nine, was that, being born in early February, I was actually a tiger, but that's beside the point. I cut out my paper dragon, and joined my classmates in the line. I only knew a few of them by name, but we didn't keep in touch. I was near the back of the line. It was a moment later that breakfast came to haunt me. I felt a sharp tingling sensation in my bladder, and my bowels felt quite full. I gently rubbed my stomach, rubbing my legs together. I normally wouldn't worry about using my diaper, but with the teacher so close, and several other kids behind me, I feared they would sniff me out. I didn't know whether or not some of my classmates were in diapers, or Pull-Ups, I never noticed if they were. Normally, I would just let go into my diaper, or find a place to relax, but I didn't want to lose my spot in line, or tell the teacher where I had been. I could already feel a few dribbles spurt into my padding, and something shifting in my gut. I knew I wouldn't hold it in much longer. I "accidentally" dropped my paper tiger. My dark blue sweatpants hid my diaper pretty well. I bent down to pick it up, and began to push. I smiled as I felt a stream of urine soak my diaper, warming it up. At the same time, I blasted out a fart, muffled by my diaper and pants, and began to fill the back with a squishy mush.As this was going on, even though it barely lasted a minute, to five year old me it felt like hours. As I pooped, I kept thinking "Please don't notice my poo poo." I stood up, got my paper dragon glued, and went on my stinky way. I was later change in the car, or get changed, rather.
  8. So, this happened a little over a decade ago. I was about five or so. I went to the local YMCA for preschool during this, after trying out a few others. I had run out of diapers prior to arriving this day, so I went commando under my pants. Before arriving, I had had a bottle of milk during breakfast, one during the car ride, and later on, prior to this incident, a box of juice one of the attendants had passed out to me during snack time. About four minutes before this incident, I felt an odd pressure building up. At first, I didn't make much of it, but later realized what it was, I had to pee. Ignoring, like a fair few kids would do, and because I wasn't yet comfortable with using the bathrooms, I didn't ask to go. A few minutes later, the teacher had us line up in front of the bathroom. I was near the back. By this point in time, my need was swiftly growing. While the line moved up, I suddenly felt a warm feeling. Looking down, I noticed a growing wet spot on the crotch of my sweatpants, which traveled downwards. Thankfully enough, my pants were dark enough. I just let nature run its course, not really bothering to stop it. By the time I entered the bathroom, my pants had dried, and hopefully so did the carpet.
  9. diokno44x

    Preschool Wetting

    So, this happened when I was about five. To give some context, I was potty trained around the normal age range of 2 to 3, however, I liked wearing diapers, so my mom let me, so long as I occasionally use the toilet or some sort of receptacle. I went to the YMCA for my preschool. It was pretty fun. Now, this occurred during my first week there. I wasn't really comfortable with the bathrooms, and rarely used them anyway, until a week later. I had run out of diapers shortly before I arrived at the YMCA that day, and I was wearing a white t-shirt, sneakers, and a pair of dark blue sweatpants, what I usually wore. Fast forward a tiny bit after my arrival, and I was doing some basic arts and crafts, coloring and whatnot. Not long after, I felt my morning bottle, the bottle o drank in the car, and the juice box coming back to haunt me. Forgetting I was commando under my sweatpants at the time, I spread my legs a bit, and began to let go. However, I realized doing it out here would probably attract too much attention. Shutting off the stream, with only a tiny patch on my crotch, I quickly told my teacher "I'm gonna go to the potty." And dashed off. Once I was safely in the bathroom, I went into a stall and began peeing through my sweatpants
  10. Alright, I just remembered a memory from my preschool days. I went to the YMCA, and while I was potty trained, I did still prefer diapers. My five year old mind didn't register what my mother and the teacher were talking about, but since she sometimes asked, if I looked like I had to, "go potty" or "go pee pee/poopie", then she must not have known I was diapered, mostly beneath sweat pants or jeans. Though occasionally, such as in this memory, I went without a diaper. This was mostly us running out, and with my mom needing to head to a part time job she did, as well as pick up a new pack, I often went commando under my pants. I had eaten a fairly big breakfast, the only thing I can recall was that, I believe it was oatmeal. I had also downed two bottles of milk. One for breakfast, the other in the car ride over. We lived relatively close to the YMCA, so it wasn't too long a drive. I was dropped off, said "Hi" to the teacher, and entered the daycare area. There were tables with chairs, mostly for eating during snack breaks, or coloring. There was a toy kitchen area, which I recounted during a close encounter with an accident in an earlier story on another thread. I plopped down in front of the bookshelf, and began reading one of the Young Readers beginner chapter novels they had. While reading, I felt a very familiar twinge in my bladder. I had quite good control for a kid my age. I focused on my book, trying to ignore the...instinct I guess, to just relax my hold. Flooding my pants wouldn't do too well, or at least, not in such an open environment. Normally, if I wasn't diapered, I would either reluctantly use the toilet in the nearby bathroom, or find a quite place, and just pee through my pants. I must have begun fidgeting at some point, because I recall the teacher coming over and asking "Chris, do you have to go potty?" I shook my head no, and she left me alone. I felt a small spurt of pee dampen my pants, which were already dark. I stood up slowly, trying to hold back the floor. I shuffled about, looking for a place to go. I knew the bathroom was out of the option, since I had seen about three kids enter it, which was the maximum number of stalls. I didn't want to risk one of them coming out, and seeing me pee in the sink or something. My eyes eventually came upon the tea pot from another memory. Or perhaps it was a new one. I scooted it behind one of the bookcases, where the teacher and her two aids were. Alright, one was there, but she was far from where I was. Hastily yanking my sweat pants down, I plopped on the makeshift potty, and let go. The sound of liquid hitting plastic filled my ears. I must of had to poop, and didn't notice, since I felt a couple logs slide out. Not wanting to increase the chances of getting caught, I emptied the contents into a nearby garbage can. What little kids can do to prevent an accident is amazing, and I was quite cunning for a five year old.
  11. Well, I remembered this one incident, back in preschool. I was five back then. I had been going to the YMCA for preschool for a month or two at this point. This was back in 2003, if memory serves. I was still diapered back then. I was potty trained, and yet still didn´t want to give them up. My mom let me stay in them. I did use the toilet every so often though, or a garbage can if I was desperate enough. This was in my third month there. I had been dropped off by my mom a few minutes early. My breakfast had consisted of some oatmeal, and a bottle of milk. I had a second bottle on the ride over. I had run out of diapers, so I was currently going commando under my dark blue jeans. I also had on a red T-shirt, and some white and green sneakers. I had no backpack with me, since my changing supplies were usually in there, and since I had no spares, there would be no point. As far as I can recall, neither the main teacher, nor her two aides, knew I was padded. I had gone into the regular room I went to, where my classmates were all ready playing. I went over to a toy kitchen, and began ¨cooking¨. A minute or two after I had begun, I realized I had to pee, quite badly, might I add. Not wanting to use the toilet, and besides the fact, someone had already gone in, I spread my legs, and let go. It started out as a few dribbles, then I felt a stream of pee flow out of my pants, and onto the floor below. Luckily, my pants were already dark, and dried not long after. An hour or two later, my mom arrived with my bag, my spares inside. I changed into one as soon as I could slip into the bathroom.
  12. So this occurred about fourteen years ago, when I was about five. I was still diapered back then, even thought I had been potty trained for about two years at that point, give or take. I did occasionally use the bathroom, but only after I had gotten used to that place. Now this occurred within my first week at my preschool at the YMCA. I had run out of diapers so I went commando under my sweatpants. After an hour of playtime, I felt a growing pressure in my bladder and bowels. My two bottles of milk, my breakfast, and my snack time food and juice seemed to want out of me. I had a rough idea of where the bathrooms were, but was still uncomfortable with using them. I shuffled away from where I was playing, and looked for a quiet spot to fill my pants. My pants were a dark blue color, and the carpeted floor a dark green. I eventually hunkered down behind a bookcase, and just let go. A small mound of poo swiftly entered the back of my pants, while a stream of pee flowed to the crotch of my pants, and down my legs. After I was sure my pants were dry enough, I made my way into the bathroom, and dumped the poop into the toilet.
  13. diokno44x

    malefemale The Preschool Potty Rebel

    This little incident occured in, as the title suggests, preschool. I was about five, and attending preschool at the YMCA. This was my first month there, and as I had used up my last diaper shortly after arriving, and had gotten changed by my mom, I was out of diapers till the end of the day. I was dressed in my usual attire of sneakers, I don't recall the brand, dark blue sweatpants, a T-Shirt, and a dark blue sweatshirt. I would eschew this in warmer months. It was during story time, one of my favorite times of the day, that I began to feel my breakfast, which I think was oatmeal, and the bottle of milk, start to kick in, exacting a pressure on my bladder and bowels. Normally. I would have been fine with just going then and there, but without the smell encasement of a diaper, I was kind of worried. Lucky for me, my teacher called up a bathroom break. One by one we were sent into the correct gendered bathroom. As I entered, and stared at the toilet, a sense of unease came over me. You see, aside from liking them, the reason I wore diapers up till the summer-ish between 2nd and 3rd grade (Though I did need them at night for a month or two after), was A. I was uncomfortable with public restrooms outside my home environment, and let's face it, public bathrooms aren't always the cleanest, and B. A slight fear of the flushing noise. However, that was quelled by a tiny mischievous side of me. I remember trying to calm my unease around public bathrooms, and in a weird way, rebel against that particular toilet, I simply plopped onto it, and began grunting and releasing. My bladder went first, soaked through my dark pants and into the toilet below. Meanwhile, my poop slithered out into the back of my pants. Wiping up, I dumped the poop out of my sweatpants and into the toilet below. Hiking my pants up, I washed my hands. I was still a bit freaked out by the flushing noise so I didn't flush (And let's face it, there are some toilets with insanely loud flushes), and left the bathroom. Throughout the rest of the day I either peed in intervals into my pants, thankful of their dark color, or, if it was poop, improvised. Like for instance, making sure no one could see me, I would go behind a book case, slide my pants down, do my dooty on the floor, pull up my pants, and go on my way. That was a fun day