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Found 20 results

  1. Mary Bromfield is your average teen girl, sexy, smart and loves teen films. Mary is also not normal she is the alter ego for Mary Marvel, who is Shazam/Billy Batson’s adopted twin sister. She is 18 and is about to finish school when she got her powers, she was in bed still it was 7:50 and naked. Her alarm went off within two minutes later, she shifted her ass to move herself to get closer to her bedside counter. She turned her iPhone alarm off but felt she had to pee quite desperately. She immediately grabbed her crotch to hold back her floodgates, it was Saturday and everyone was still asleep. What could she do if she said the name she’ll probably wake everyone up, it was either humiliation or waking everyone up. Mary knew she wouldn’t make it to the toilet because she felt like she could explode at any second. She had the biggest bulge ever as she stared at herself nude, she felt a tinkle of pee release from her body and onto her bed. She was scared, if she allowed herself to have an accident in bed like a little girl, Billy might make fun of her forever and exposing it to her friends. She said the name under her breath “Shazam!” She changed into her Shazam form, her bulge wasn’t big and she didn’t need to go. She wanted to do this hold her pee in as Mary Marvel and then later make it to the toilet and change back and release her desperation. She went back to sleep, she slept peacefully and didn’t have dreams about her releasing her distressing urge. It was 9:00 when she got up now it was time. By that time her adult desperation had gone up but not as urgent as her teen desperation, she raced to the bathroom and once arriving at the door was locked someone was inside. She knocked on the door, “Mary is that you?” “Billy please hurry up I need to go!” She said quietly, “Don’t worry I won’t be too long in here.” Said Billy. Mary was getting so desperate she grabbed her crotch in adult form now both her forms were in big trouble, if she stayed in her teen form she would already have wet the bed. “Billy please hurry. I’m bursting so badly to go! Please I have to pee!” “Hold on Mary.” Billy realised that Mary was in her Shazam form and said to her “Mary why are you in your Shazam form?” “Billy I had to go already at 7:50. I was lazy and I wanted to hold it in for a bit longer. Just please hurry I think I’m about to go any second.” Billy finished and was awestruck when seeing his foster sister naked. He got a bit aroused and Mary could see it please by the time Billy was staring at her she was grabbing hold of her crotch, she walked in and shut the door. She raced towards the toilet as she could feel her leaking, small leaks expanding into big ones. She plonked her sexy thick ass on the toilet and in relief said the name “Shazam!” And when she said the word she turned back into her teenage self and thoroughly started peeing in relief and Marry couldn’t help it but moan softly as it was so damn warm. Her floodgates started to close she enjoyed her holding and then cleaned her wet pussy and then flushed the toilet. When she was finished all of that , she made her way back to her room to get dressed for the day. To Be Continued...
  2. A Change of Heart and Pants Persona 5 fanfiction by MasterXploder With thanks to Nikeryda and Sake for editing (Note: Contains minor story spoilers, and some mature themes. Reader discretion advised) “This is your fault!” A busy city street. A crowd of shadows gathering around her. “Why don’t you say something?” N-No, I didn’t… A car dented at the front. A body lying in the middle of the road. Red along the pavement. “You killed her!” “She did this because of you!” The shadows surrounded her, fingers pointed and voices growing louder. She fell to her knees and shut her eyes. I didn’t mean to… “You deserve to die!” “When will you wake up?” I… deserve… “Wake up!” To… d-d… “Futaba, wake up!” “H-Huh!?” Futaba opened her eyes. The street, the shadows, the body, all of it had disappeared. Instead, she saw the ceiling of her room, and the face of Sojiro Sakura, her guardian, holding her shoulders. “W-what’s going on?” she muttered. “Take it easy,” said Sojiro, “It was just a bad dream. It’s over now.” “A dream?” Memories of that horrible nightmare returned to her at once, with all the twisted feelings they created. If only it was just a nightmare, she thought to herself. “Are you alright, Futaba?” asked Sojiro, “You were yelling in your sleep. I could hear you even in my room.” It had happened again, another vivid hallucination, this time in her sleep. Futaba could not find the words to speak, and only shook her head. Sojiro took a moment to sigh and lifted Futaba up to a sitting position. “Come on, let’s get you out of bed. You probably don’t want to keep lying in… that.” “In… what?” Futaba sat in confusion for a second, but then gasped. She became aware of a sharp smell and a cold, wet feeling against her crotch, butt, legs, and lower back, much too large to just be from sweat. A glance to her legs confirmed her fears. She had tossed the covers off her bed during her nightmare, revealing a large, dark patch on her futon. Her black sleep shorts had a noticeable shine at the crotch with the light on them, and a slight glisten could be seen on her inner thighs. “Oh… oh no,” whimpered Futaba, her eyes becoming shiny with tears. “I’m so s-sorry, Sojiro.” “Hey, hey, don’t worry about it.” Sojiro put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just glad that nightmare is over. Now, why don’t you go run yourself a bath while I clean up this mess?” She wanted to sit there and cradle herself like the worthless kid she was, but Sojiro would never allow that. “O-okay,” she replied, letting him help her onto her feet. Grabbing a fresh set of nightwear, Futaba made the slow walk of shame from her room to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she barely paid attention as she started the bath and removed her wet clothes. While the tub filled, she sat on the toilet and let the tears fall onto her lap, the running water drowning out her sobs. Sojiro was wrong; this nightmare would never be over for her. Tonight had shown that she was not safe from an attack even in her sleep. Wetting the bed for the first time since she was a toddler only cemented it for her. This was her punishment, and she would suffer for her sins until the day she died like she so deserved. Things couldn’t be any better today. This was the feeling Futaba Sakura had all morning as she walked up the stairs to her room, humming a tune from a retro video game. It had been so long since she felt this way, she had forgotten what it was like to be optimistic about the future. It was like she was almost floating on air with how weightless she felt. Then again, her summer outfit, a sleeveless tank top with a Tetris reference and gray cargo pants, might have helped with that, too. Of course, this didn’t come about on its own. She had the Phantom Thieves of Hearts to thank for her new outlook on life. They had gone through the ordeal of stealing the treasure within her Palace in the Metaverse, causing the change of heart that made her into the witty and determined girl she used to be. No longer did she think of this house as her tomb, the place she was destined to die in. Now, it was her base of operations where she could do some good for the world. But first, she had a debt to repay. Reaching the door to her room, she pushed it open and turned around, putting her hands behind her back. “So, be honest. Is this the first time you’ve ever been invited to a girl’s room?” She looked with a playful smile at Ren Amamiya, leader of the Phantom Thieves, and his cat companion Morgana. At her remark, Ren’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he glanced towards the corner. Futaba giggled. “Well, it’s not like I’m one to talk. I barely left my room for who knows how long until this morning. I guess you could say you guys were my get-out-of-self-induced-jail card.” “Er, glad to hear that,” said Ren, turning back to her. “I hate that we’re asking you for a favor so soon, but we’re really counting on you to come through for us now.” “Right, the Medjed thing,” replied Futaba, “If that’s all you’re asking me to do, I gotta say, I feel like I walked away with all the good loot at the end of a team quest.” Turning back, Futaba stepped into her room, a shut-in nerd’s paradise if ever there was one. Newspapers and hard books littering the floor, anime character figurines in pristine condition, a high-end computer with several monitors, and a starry curtain blocking out the sunlight created an atmosphere very different from the rest of the house. Futaba took a seat in her gaming chair and began tapping at her keyboard. “It’s my turn to help out,” she declared. “Hmph, ‘Medjed.’ How do we cook them?” “Um, I’ll leave that up to you,” said Ren, “Just try not to go overboard.” “Roger that.” “Hey, Futaba?” came a voice from behind her, “We don’t have much time left. Are you sure you could do this?” Futaba turned around and balked at what she saw. “Th-The kitty talked!?” “I’ll explain it later. Metaverse stuff,” said Ren. “R-Right.” Futaba looked back at her monitor. “Eh, I guess it doesn’t matter. Let’s get cracking!” Thus began Futaba’s latest hacking crusade. Her target: Medjed, the anonymous internet vigilantes-turned-cyberterrorists that were threatening to expose all of Japan’s private information if the Phantom Thieves did not unmask themselves. She knew better, though; it was most likely some random wannabe hacker using the name to achieve their own goal. Whoever they were, Futaba was certain she could code circles around them. The computer world was where she excelled; she was not about to let some script kiddie show her up. Morgana paced back and forth on Futaba’s bed, looking annoyed all the while. He glanced towards Futaba, who was leaning into her many monitors, her fingers dancing across the keyboard while the rest of her body seemed motionless in comparison. “You’re just tapping away over there,” he said, “Are you sure this will work?” “Mm-hmm… Mmm… Hmm…” “Hey, Futaba!” “Heh heh heh…” Morgana blinked a couple times. “I don’t think she can hear me. Talk about intense concentration.” He glanced around the room, the floors in particular, where much of the hardwood could not be seen underneath all the newspapers, books, and garbage bags. “This place is so messy, I’m surprised she can focus at all. Futaba, you should really clean your room a bit.” “Huh…” “She’s not listening…” Morgana sighed. “Oh well, just waiting around is boring. Let’s clean this place up.” Ren nodded in response, and the two went to work tidying up the room for her. With her guests not focused on her, Futaba breathed a sigh of relief. As focused as she was, she had still picked up on the part where they wouldn’t be paying attention to her. Now, she could bite her lip and cross her legs a little more without feeling so self-conscious. In the time since she had started her counterattack on Medjed, Futaba remembered a few things. First, proper computer hacking could take a while. Second, coffee was a natural diuretic. Most importantly, the last time she had used the bathroom was before she fell asleep from exhaustion after awakening to her persona. She didn’t need smarts to know what all that added up to, not when she could feel it pulsing from her groin. “Mmm…” she groaned from another of her bladder’s many protests. This sort of nuisance was nothing new to her. For as much time as she spent on the computer, she had occasionally wrestled with her bladder trying to pull her away from whatever she was focused on at the time. At one point, she had attempted to use a bottle as an emergency toilet during a particularly lengthy MMO raid. The resulting mess on the floor and chair discouraged her from trying that again. Not that she was about to do that with others in her room, or let them know of her problem in the first place. They had gone through all sorts of trouble to give her another chance at life, and now they only asked for her help with this one problem in return. What would it look like if she stopped in the middle of her task to retreat for a potty break? Embarrassing for one, it was tough enough to let Sojiro know she was heading for the bathroom. Even without that, thinking of running to the toilet brought back visions of her past self, the scared girl that would wet the bed and cry in helplessness. She was not that girl anymore. Futaba had been given an extra life, and she would not take a break until the job was done. “Mmmm… Come on…” An orange glow from the setting sun peeked in around the corners of the curtains. Not that Futaba needed another marker for how much more time had passed. The growing pain in her groin was doing a good job of that by itself. It seemed for every keystroke made, another drop of urine fell into her bladder, only reminding her of how much more work still needed to be done. She was glad to have glanced behind her when things got really quiet and found both Ren and Morgana had dozed off on her futon. That meant she didn’t have to hide her need to pee any longer. As such, she had formed a pattern of bouncing in her seat, squeezing and twisting her legs together, rocking back and forth, and anything else she could think of to keep her gray cargo pants and 50,000 yen gaming chair dry and stain-free. But even with all her holding techniques, Futaba’s confidence wavered with each passing minute. Could she really get this all done and still reach the bathroom in time? She certainly couldn’t take a break now, not when Medjed’s supposed cleanse could start at any time. Even so, the idea still proved very tempting. All she had to do was sneak past her sleeping friends, shuffle into the bathroom, sit on the toilet and- “Eep!” Just the mental image of letting go was enough to make her bladder jump the gun. Before she could stop it, a spurt of pee shot through her defenses and hit her underwear, creating a wet feeling down there that made her break into a sweat. Futaba hunched forward and shot a hand from the keyboard to right between her legs. She had no choice but to divert all her focus from stopping a massive information leak to stopping a massive waste leak. Whimpering through her teeth with one eye shut, Futaba wondered if this was her limit. She could not remember the last time she had to go this badly, even including her attempted bottle pee. Her bladder was at the fullest it had ever been, but there was still so much left to do. Was her quest truly doomed to fail here? No, she couldn’t give up now, not after the Phantom Thieves went through so much trouble to save her. She was free from the cycle of despair and self-loathing that had plagued her for so long; to give in now would be like dropping to her previous form after obtaining a sleek, new evolution. “I won’t… lose!” She declared as she lifted the hand from her groin and placed it back on the keyboard. “Come on, Futaba, it’s comeback time!” Furrowing her brow and squeezing her legs harder than ever, Futaba started her last desperate push to finish her challenge. Despite the pressure hitting her just as hard, she entered into a level of concentration unlike ever before, as if guided by some supernatural force. Every keystroke, every mouse click, every last line of code was made with twice the speed and scrutiny. Even in her zen-like hacking, she was still well aware of how close she was to bursting. The waves of pain continued as always, as did her many motions and moans to keep from soaking everything below her. No matter how much it hurt, she refused to stop. The Phantom Thieves had passed the baton to her, and she’d be damned if she let them down now. This determination kept her going right to the very end. With a heavy, tired push of the “Enter” key, Futaba set in motion the program that would take down Medjed’s server, only to bring it back up with the Phantom Thieves’ calling card plastered front and center. That wasn’t all; the names of almost everyone associated with Medjed, including the one behind the threats to Japan, would be revealed for the whole world to see. The program was still in the middle of progress, but Futaba knew she had won. Leaning back and stretching her arms out, she let out a triumphant cry of “I’m doooone!” “W-what’s up? Something happened?” said a groggy Morgana as he stood straight up from his sudden awakening. “It’s finished,” Futaba replied. “Finished? What is?” Futaba made to turn around and look right at the two, but something else caught her eye first, namely how visible her room’s floor was now. “Ah, it’s so clean! Why?” “We cleaned it,” responded Morgana in an annoyed manner, “Anyway, is it true? Did you really take care of Medjed?” Futaba looked around her room, her eyes wide in astonishment. “I handled them, and someone else handled my room! I don’t understand, but this is g-aahh!?” Futaba’s entire body froze up. Another spurt leaked out, this one going through her underwear and onto her pants. She hunched over and shoved her hands into her legs at once. “Futaba!” shouted Ren, standing up and running to her side. “Whoa! What’s wrong?” said Morgana, doing the same. “Ah… hahhh…” Forming a proper response was out of her abilities at the moment, especially with her face contorted as it was. She could not move a single muscle, no matter how badly she wanted to. “Morgana, does this have to do with her Palace and Shadow?” asked Ren. “I-I don’t know! That whole infiltration was unorthodox. Who knows what effects it might have had on her?” Futaba wanted to tell them her problem was more embarrassing than that almost as much as she wanted to get on the toilet right now. Unfortunately, she knew that neither of those things could happen now. A single motion would break her hold completely, not that it wasn’t about to do so anyway. Only a couple more seconds passed before it did just that. Futaba squeaked again right as her accident began, starting with a light dribble that would not stop no matter how hard she squeezed. It soaked through her panties and went to work creating a wet patch at the crotch of her pants. This wetness spread downwards to her butt, forming a pool that gave both cheeks a good bath. “F-Futaba?” asked Ren. Morgana sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “Wait, is this…” “Oooooohhhhhh!” In that moment, Futaba realized that trying to hold it back any further was pointless. This battle was lost, so she may as well get it over with. As such, she closed her eyes, and let her pee come out in full force. The effect was immediate. A faint hissing sound started up, making Morgana’s ear twitch. The golden pool at her bottom grew outwards, becoming visible to everyone in the room. It spread to the edge of her seat, where it spilled off the chair and onto the carpet in a series of piddling drops. A bit of urine continued down her legs as well, leaving wet trails along the back of her pants and damp spots on her socks. At first, Futaba’s mind remained devoid of thought, like a hard drive spinning without loading anything. All she could focus on was all the senses of her accident, the smell and touch growing stronger by the second. Towards the end, however,the harsh truth of what happened set in. A complete failure to hold her pee like a normal person, getting it all on her chair, with people important to her there to witness everything; she had officially hit the worst-case scenario. Her face as red as Ann’s thief outfit, Futaba opened her eyes and let out one last groan as her bladder finished emptying in the worst possible way. “I don’t think this has anything to do with her Palace or Shadow,” commented Morgana. “I see that now.” Ren put a hand behind his head and did his best to only look at Futaba’s head. “Are you okay?” I am the least okay that I could be possibly be right now! is what she wanted to say. The feeling of lukewarm urine all over her lower body and the smell of ammonia brought back memories of the night she had wet the bed. All the crushing emotions from then rose up, and she could feel her eyes watering and clouding her vision. A sound from her computer pulled her attention away. She looked at the monitor and found a new pop-up box front and center, the word “successful” sticking out like a rare drop from a felled enemy, and remembered what was truly important here. Against all odds, Futaba had prevailed in taking down her target. Sure, it had still been a messy end for her, but it didn’t matter. For a moment, her accident seemed so inconsequential when she had just saved all of Japan from an economic crisis. Her frown slowly closed and lifted into a small smile. “Gotcha.” “Futaba? You’re really starting to worry us,” said Morgana. “Hmm?” Futaba remembered the other two present. “Did you guys say something?” “We’ve been saying something for awhile.” “We’re just worried, that’s all,” said a red-faced Ren, “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” “Oh, um, y-yeah, sure! Why wouldn’t I be fine right now?” Futaba stammered. “Futaba...” Morgana muttered with a worried look. Futaba looked away and sighed. “Okay, so peeing my pants was not part of Operation Medjed Meltdown. Definitely not the greatest moment of my hacking career.” “I’m sorry about this,” said Ren. “We didn’t mean for you to push yourself so hard for us.” “I mean, we were pressed for time today,” admitted Morgana. “I guess neither of us realized how long hacking really takes.” “This wasn’t your fault,” said Futaba, shaking her head. “I got so excited about helping you guys out and doing some good for the world, and I ended up making a noob mistake. If my mom were here right now, she’d be trying to help me and reprimand me at the same time.” Both Ren and Morgana glanced away, unable to think of any way to respond to the delicate subject. “But, you wanna what the weirdest thing about all this is?” continued Futaba, “I’m… not really that upset about this.” “Y-You’re not?” asked Ren. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s super-embarrassing, and if you say a word of this to anyone, I’ll have to tell Sojiro that you were being mean to me.” “Er, y-you don’t have to worry about that,” Ren quickly responded. Even Morgana formed a bead of sweat at the threat of an angry Sojiro. “But like I said, this isn’t upsetting me as much as I thought. If this had happened just a few days ago, I would’ve wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and pray that I would just die already.” She once more thought of the night she wet the bed. Even when steeped in her pee, it seemed so long ago now, like a memory from a previous life. It was enough to make her smile a little. “But this? This doesn’t hurt nearly as bad. It almost feels like… victory.” “Victory?” asked Ren. Futaba’s smile dropped away as she caught another whiff of her waste. “Aaaand victory feels really gross now.” “I’m surprised you’ve been sitting in it all this time, to be honest,” said Morgana, twitching his nose again. “You should get cleaned up. Ren and I can handle the mess for you in here. It’s the least we can do.” “That’s not a bad idea,” said Futaba, “But, I think I have a better plan right now.” Not waiting for a response, Futaba grabbed the pillow at her seat, patted it dry of any pee, and set it on the desk. She then flopped her head on it, and was lightly snoring within seconds. After everything she had been through today, a good, long nap was just too tempting to pass up. Knowing that there would be no nightmares to plague her anymore made it all the better. “W-wow, she really fell asleep just like that?” Both Morgana and Ren stood in dumbfounded silence for a while before they could speak again. “She didn’t even do anything about her accident, either,” the cat continued. “Should we help her out somehow?” asked Ren. “I don’t know what we could do. It doesn’t look like she’s waking up anytime soon, and she definitely wouldn’t be happy if we tried to move her or change her clothes.” Morgana paused to sigh. “And I thought Yusuke was pretty strange.” “You mean stranger than a talking cat?” “I am not a cat!” snapped Morgana, shooting Ren a fierce look before returning to Futaba. “Still, this girl is quite a handful. She’s gonna need you guys’ help if she wants to be a Phantom Thief.” “You may be right,” said Ren as he looked over Futaba. The poor girl had been through so much, and yet there was no mistaking the smile on her face as she snoozed without a care in the world. “But something tells me she’ll fit right in with us.” (A/N: This isn't the first story I've written about a gamer girl about to burst while at her computer, though the ending is quite a bit different, to say the least.)
  3. LondonGirl

    The Long Ride Home

    I've known about my wetting fetish since I was 12, I found out about it when this particular wetting occurred. First a little back story to, you know, set the scene so to speak. This accident happened during the summer of 2003, I was a slim build at this time and had tanned skin from a holiday I had earlier at the start of the summer. I have blue eyes and had my hair dyed dark red, I wore just a normal light blue pair of knickers on with a plain white bra. Over them I wore what could be best described as just a really long shirt (Short-sleeved went down to knees) which had light blue and white stripes with a grey rose design on the chest. I wore just a plain pair of white shoes without socks. The accident happened during a shopping trip with my friend. We'd been at a local shopping centre all day, during this time I'd drank around 3 normal bottles of coke and hadn't gone to the toilet for about 3 hours. My friend had left early because she was getting a lift home and so I had to get the bus on my own. In a slightly stupid move I went into a shop to browse when instead I should have paid, which was already by this point, an urgently needed visit to the toilet and then gone to wait for my bus. I eventually realized I was about to miss my bus 2 minutes before it was due to arrive. Instantly I sped walk to the bus stop, after only around ten seconds of this I could feel my bladder aching, I knew I needed a wee badly and decided to use the toilets next to the stop and considering this was a UK bus I was hoping it would stay true to it's reputation and come 5 minutes late. Just my luck. As soon as I got to the stop I could see it coming down the road. I stood there debating for a few seconds, all the while my bladder aching, but I knew if I took the time for a wee I'd miss my bus and have to wait another hour (With no money left, I had a day saver so I already had the bus covered) for the next. I reluctantly got on and made a bee line for the back and sat in the left hand corner of the bus. Being able to sit down and rest provided me with a little relief but my aching bladder and made me tightly press my now shaking legs together, I became generally worried at this point as the situation really hit me, I knew had a very real chance of having an accident at this point. After around 10 minutes on the bus (The journey would take 25) my situation had worsened deeply. I had both my hands in between my legs trying to just provide some sense of relief. My legs were trembling and still tightly together. My bladder was aching and I could feel the pressure of the wee, I could feel it trying to push itself out. Luckily I was at the back or the entire bus would be able to see me on verge of wetting myself. My mind was racing trying to figure out a way for my to wee, I was contemplating literally any solution. I was thinking of just squatting at weeing onto the floor but given the floor it would be very audible and the bus had 5 people on it besides me so no where near enough noise to hide it. I thought about just getting off now and going in any place with a bit of privacy but it was out of the question. Firstly I was too scared someone would see me and secondly it would leave me in an area I barely knew. That's when it happened, I felt myself leak and the warm wee hit my thighs. I knew it was going to happen and then quickly changed my position, I took my shoes off to avoid filling them with my wee and lifted my over-shirt and under-shit above my waist (I was very lucky no one was near the back otherwise I'd be pretty much flashing them) and just relaxed my bladder's muscles. I could feel the wee just pour out of me, it soaked my underwear within seconds and began to drench the seat. I felt my bladder slowly emptying, it felt amazing just being able to let it all out. It began to drip down my legs after flooding my thighs. I wee'd for around a minute when it slowly turned into a dribble and then small spurts. I felt so relaxed at letting go, then out of nowhere a small spasm of excitement hit me, it felt....amazing! I took little notice of the pleasure it gave me at the time. When I finished I looked at the aftermath. My legs were completely soaked and my underwear had tightened and was too soaked. The seat had a huge wet patch with a few dribbles running down onto the floor. I then pulled my shirts back down making sure not to put them over my rear yet to avoid wetting them. My stop quickly arrived I hurried off before anyone could notice the still soaked seat. I shivered as the cold air met my wet bum and quickly hurried home to clean myself back up. That night I couldn't stop thinking about my accident it just excited me so much, I then remembered my childhood noticing I also took notice of anyone declaring an urge to wee and realized the topic in general just excited me.
  4. First of all, I'd like to say that as much as I enjoy omorashi, I think this was a very sad situation and I wish I had intervened. I thought a story like this might happen after I saw a dad ignore the pleas of his tired 4-year-old (or something like that) son in order to keep playing Pokémon Go last week, but I never expected me to witness it myself and especially not so soon or to someone older than 5 years old. The girl who had an accident was still underage though, and while there's nothing sexual about this story, consider yourselves warned. --- So I was out alone tonight playing the game myself and went to an area well known to be a great location for catching Pokémon (there were 4 lures active within less than 20 seconds of each other at the time and they were constantly being replenished, which is probably why the mother didn't want to leave). There were a bunch of players but one of the closest to me was a young mother, I guess around 35 years old, with her 2 daughters. I estimate the older girl to be around 12-14 and her younger sister to be around 7-8. The mother was busy playing the game on her phone (and by the looks of her power bank had been doing so for quite some time) while the two children were playing together (not Pokémon)some metres away. I wasn't really paying attention at this point so I'm not sure how long this went on for, but at one point the older girl went up to her mother and said she needed to go to the toilet extremely urgently. You could hear the desperation in her tone. The mother told her that they'll be going home soon. The girl went back to playing with her sister. We were standing close to a restaurant/cafeteria and I'm not sure why the girl did not use their bathroom at this point. It's the kind of place with tables outside in the open air and I'm certain nobody would have questioned whether they are customers and simply assumed the girl's family was eating outside (I did this a lot when I was a child, both when we really were customers and when we weren't). I suppose she was just too shy to go inside a restaurant on her own. Now paying more attention, I noticed the girl crossing her legs occasionally as she played and she was doing a subtle pee pee dance. After about 15-20 minutes, she went up to her mother again and, this time putting a hand on her crotch for added effect, pleaded with her to go home. The mother snapped at her and told her they won't stay much longer. I don't think she realised how much time had passed since she asked or how desperate the girl really was. I noticed the girl started crossing her legs more frequently after this but she didn't hold herself again (like I said, probably shy) until around 10 minutes later when she told her mother she was going to have an accident while holding herself with both hands and bouncing up and down. She was not crying but she sounded very close to tears. The mother got visibly frustrated at this point, raised her voice and told her not to make a scene and to set an example to her little sister. I should have intervened at this moment as it was evident that this was horrible parenting, but I didn't. After the mother got angry the younger daughter stayed next to her watching her play Pokémon Go and getting excited about all the new Pokémon she was catching (from what I overheard I think the mother was a fairly new player). The other girl showed no interest, either because she thinks the game is stupid or because she was too desperate to care. A few minutes later, as I was busy looking at my own phone trying to catch a Dratini, I heard a loud wail coming from the girl as she half-shouted that she was peeing her pants and started crying loudly. I obviously looked up and saw her with her legs crossed (but not holding herself), looking down and staring at the crotch of her dark pink (and darkening) shorts. The bottom of her shirt (I think lime though the lighting wasn't too good) also got slightly wet. I must admit I was surprised by the accident which is probably why I didn't say anything to the mother before it happened. I live in a small place where a toilet is never too far away and my omorashi memories are almost limited to my own memories. I have a few memories of schoolmates but I was always sitting too far to see the accident actually happen. This is the first time I actually saw one. The girl was visibly very upset and couldn't stop crying, drawing everyone's attention to her. I can't imagine how embarrassed the poor thing was. As I said, this is a popular location with Pokémon Go players and was full of players at the time, not to mention how she must have felt to have an accident in front of a sister 5-7 years younger than her. The younger girl laughed at the situation while the mother started shouting things like "You should be ashamed of yourself peeing your pants at your age" and "Even (sister's name) can hold it" (roughly translated). At least she did have the decency to take the girl home then, though she left the app on so I suppose she was still playing on the way.
  5. Sapphire3619

    malefemale Shopping Trip

    OK, this turned out quite a bit longer than I expected! There's a lot of dialogue post-wetting, just to warn you. Writing distracts me, and I guess I needed more distraction than I thought this week :) Enjoy! ************* “Thanks for dinner, Ma,” Kenny said, leaning down to kiss his mother’s forehead as he carried his dishes to the sink. Keegan, his 16-year-old brother, rolled his eyes. At 18, Kenny was loved by everybody. Peers, parents, teachers - no one could escape the charm of Kenneth Andrews. “Yeah, thanks,” Keegan muttered, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “You’re welcome, boys,” Jessalyn stood up from the table and stretched, her pink scrubs wrinkling at the shoulders. “Who are you covering for tonight?” Kenny asked genially. “Beth’s daughter is sick, so I’m taking her shift,” Jessalyn explained, picking up her own plate from the table. “Night shifts are never as bad when you’re doing them as a favor!” The shadows outside the window were lengthening in the late May evening. Jessalyn started to run the tap in the sink. “Hey, I was thinking,” she began as she rinsed off the plates. “While I’m gone, why don’t you two go to the mall and get Keegan a new shirt for graduation? His gray slacks will be fine, but finishing high school deserves at least one new wardrobe piece, don’t you think?” She winked at Keegan, who cringed. “But Ma, I was gonna go to Ross’s tonight!” Kenny protested. “You can go to Ross’s after,” Jessalyn replied calmly. “The mall is only open until 8 during the week, anyway. Besides, Key can’t drive, and, as much as I love him,” she leaned over to kiss her younger son on the cheek. “He has terrible taste in clothes. You, on the other hand,” she repeated the kiss with her older boy. “Have great style!” Kenny sighed, already knowing that he was going to obey. “Fine,” he relented, grabbing his keys from the counter. “Let’s go, Key. Get this done quickly so I can meet up with the guys.” “But…” Keegan started to protest. Not only did the whole idea of shopping sound absolutely abhorrent, he had to pee. He always went to the bathroom after dinner. “No buts, baby,” Jessalyn chided gently, still washing the dinner dishes. “I want you to look nice. Now go. The mall’s twenty minutes away, and it’s already past 6:30.” “I…” “Keegan!” his mom looked at him pointedly. “Go, please!” Furrowing his brow, Keegan turned to follow Kenny. Fine. He’d just hold it for awhile. He knew Kenny wanted to make this trip quick, too. **** Climbing into Kenny’s rusty old Jeep, the brothers barely acknowledged one another. They usually didn’t, despite being in the same grade at school. Though Kenny was 18 months older, Keegan had quickly emerged as a genius. He only lasted 2 months in kindergarten before his teacher determined he’d be much better off skipping a grade. After meetings with a counselor and long talks with both of the boys, it was decided that yes, Keegan should skip the rest of kindergarten and join his brother in the 1st grade. With a summer birthday, Keegan had already been among the youngest in his kindergarten class. In his brother’s grade, he was an practically a baby. However, he was truly brilliant and kept up with all the advanced work teachers could come up with. While Kenny never minded Keegan skipping a grade, everyone acknowledged that the younger brother probably shouldn’t skip again, putting him in classes above Kenny. Kenny did fine in school, earning A’s and B’s, but excelled athletically and socially. He never minded having a genius brother, because he had plenty of his own accolades. Once they reached the local high school, Kenny and Keegan’s paths virtually never crossed, despite the fact that they lived together. They weren’t in any of the same clubs or classes. Now, with graduation just a few weeks away, Kenny had plans to go to the state university. Keegan, naturally, had been accepted to MIT. With their vastly different hobbies and habits, Kenny and Keegan didn’t spend much time together. Now, in the car on the way to the mall, they had nothing to talk about. Keegan stayed silent for another reason, though. His mind was focused on his filling bladder. Running a quick mental calculation, he decided he must’ve drunk too much at dinner. Facing not only shopping, but another 20-minute ride back home, it was unlikely that he’d be able to hold it the whole time. He’d just have to use the restroom at the mall. **** Kenny swerved into a parking space with stereotypical teenage recklessness. Keegan wheezed as the seat belt pushed against his bladder. While Kenny was already jumping out of the car, Keegan had to take a moment to clench his muscles, bringing his need back under control. Maybe he’d have to find a bathroom sooner than he thought… “Let’s make this quick, Key,” Kenny called, strolling confidently toward the mall doors. Keegan struggled to keep while keeping his muscles tight. To Keegan’s dismay, Kenny veered to the right, heading straight for the department store doors instead of the general mall entrance. “Can’t we go in the other doors?” Keegan asked, a bit lamely. Kenny huffed in condescension. “This is the biggest store in the mall. If we’re going to get this done quickly, it’ll get done here. Why waste time walking through the rest of the mall?” Keegan was moderately concerned with the fact that they would no longer be walking past the mall bathrooms, but he had to admit that finishing this chore quickly was in his best interest. “We’ll start here,” Kenny narrated, striding to the wall of neatly-folded shirts in the men’s section. “What size are you?” “Uh…” Keegan muttered, panting a bit from catching up. “A small?” Kenny turned to his brother with an exaggerated look of disdain. “No, geek, your shirt size. Neck, sleeve, chest, waist?” “Uh…” Kenny rolled his eyes. “For a genius, you sure are stupid.” He gave Keegan an appraising once-over, then turned to the wall of shirts. “OK, we’ll try some of these.” Piling shirts into Keegan’s unsuspecting arms, Kenny then headed to the dressing room. Keegan stumbled along behind him. “Here,” Keegan pushed open the door to the last room in the hall. “Try on the white ones first so we can figure out what size you need.” Once the door shut, Keegan dropped the shirts and grabbed his crotch. He’d drastically underestimated his growing need and had to hold himself for a few seconds before feeling comfortable enough to let go. He’d just have to try on the shirts quickly and hope that Kenny saw one he liked. He pulled off his ratty t-shirt and slipped on the white button-down on top of the pile. Fastening the last button, he opened the door to show Kenny. “Hm...yeah,” Kenny nodded. “That’s the right size. Take it off and give it to me so I can go find some better colors.” Keegan glared for a moment, displeased at being bossed around, but unbuttoned the shirt and handed it to his brother. Kenny took the shirt and turned to go. “Stay here!” he called. “But…” Keegan started. Turning theatrically on his heel, Kenny glowered at Keegan. “I’ll be quick. I don’t want to waste any time chasing after you among a pile of video-game t-shirts.” Before Keegan could argue, Kenny had already turned and walked out of the hallway. Scowling, he retreated back into the dressing room, crossing his legs to ease the pressure on his bladder. Kenny was really only gone for less than 10 minutes, but it felt like longer to Keegan and his pent-up urine. His distress only increased when he saw the number of shirts Kenny had brought back. “You want me to try on all of those?” he asked incredulously. “I’ve never seen you in anything but black, white, and gray,” (That’s an exaggeration, though Keegan) “So I don’t know what colors look best. We have to try a few different ones.” Staring daggers, Keegan snatched the pile of shirts from his brother and slammed the dressing room door. A wave of pressure hit his bladder, and he bent forward slightly, clutching at his groin. He purposely slowed his breathing. Five shirts, he counted. He’d have to try on five shirts. Keeping his pelvic muscles tight, Keegan threw on the first shirt, only buttoning a few of the buttons before opening the door. Luckily, Kenny only needed one look before deciding that, apparently, this was not a good color. Back behind the closed door, Keegan crossed his legs again as he pulled on a blue shirt, not even bothering with the buttons this time. Seeing his brother, Kenny raised his eyebrows. “Mmm...that’s close. The blue looks good, classy. Maybe another shade…” He turned and walked out, presumably to find said “other shade” of shirt. Keegan once again backed into the dressing room and pulled off the latest shirt. A hot, awful leak escaped, dampening his underwear. He held his crotch with both hands this time, unsure of how much longer he’d last. Please, Kenny, he thought. Hurry up. Hearing his brother’s confident steps in the hallway five minutes later, Keegan tensed every muscle in his body to find some semblance of control before standing and opening the door. Kenny held out a midnight-blue shirt. Keegan wrinkled his nose. “Why is it shiny?” “Just take it,” Kenny grumbled. “It’ll look good, I swear.” Inhaling deeply, Keegan grabbed the shirt and closed the door. He twisted his legs together as he felt another spurt on the verge of leaking. Hastily, he thrust his arms into the shirt and opened the door. “Yeah-what?” Kenny’s face flicked from approving to scandalized. “Button it, you hobo, let me see how it fits!” Fingers shaking slightly, Keegan rapidly buttoned the shirt, trying not to let his desperation show. He felt a few drops of urine soak into his underwear as he tried to stand still for his brother’s inspection. Kenny was nodding. “Yeah, that’s almost right.” “Al-almost?” Keegan stuttered. “I think I know just the thing,” Kenny was saying. “Stay here. Leave that shirt on.” “Kenny, please, can I-” Keegan started to beg. If he hurried now, he could make it to the bathroom in time. Kenny whirled around, exasperated. “Look, kid, I know you hate shopping, but Mom wants you to look nice for graduation. Is that too much to ask?” Keegan bit the inside of his cheek. Pretty much the only thing the boys had in common was a willingness to do anything for their hardworking, single mother. “I thought so,” Kenny said, somewhat haughtily. Keegan let out a soft whine as he slipped back into the dressing room. He bent nearly in half as a thin stream of pee came out, trickling ticklishly down his leg. Keegan shoved his hands between his legs, squeezing with all his might and praying that the wetness didn’t show on his jeans. Kenny returned in another five minutes, walking quickly. Keegan barely had time to stand up straight before Kenny opened the door and handed him a sharp, gray vest. “Put this on,” he ordered. Keegan shut the door in his brother’s face. Keeping one hand buried in his crotch, he fumbled with the buttons on the vest. Awkwardly threading one hand into the arm hole, he then switched hands quickly and pulled on the vest while keeping a hold on his dick. Kenny banged on the door. “Hurry up!” With reasonable dexterity, considering the situation, Keegan one-handedly fastened the vest buttons. He then twisted his legs together and squeezed his grip extra hard before straightening up and opening the door to face his brother. Kenny’s eyes lit up. “Yep, that’s it. Mom’ll be thrilled. Perfect. Take those off. I’ll take them to the register while you get dressed.” Without responding, Keegan shut the door forcefully. The few seconds of not actively holding himself had cost him the biggest leak yet. Looking down, he saw the edges of a wet patch between his legs. He quickly grabbed at his crotch again and held tightly with one hand while the other undid the buttons on the vest and shirt. He shook one arm out, then switched hands to remove the other. His arm got stuck, and he frantically released his grip to pull at the shirt sleeve, resulting in another spurt. Sweating, Keegan shuffled behind the door so Kenny wouldn’t see his desperate state. He clutched the vest and shirt in his left hand (wrinkles be damned) while holding himself with his right. Jimmying the slide lock out of its slot, he pulled open the door and snaked his arm around it, holding out the clothes for Kenny. As soon as Kenny took the scrunched clothes from his hand, Keegan pushed the door shut, slid the lock into place, and shoved his left hand into his crotch to join his right. He twisted his legs together, squeezing his muscles with all his might, desperately trying to regain control. He couldn’t move. His bladder was more than full, and only the exact current combination of clenching and grasping was keeping urine from spilling everywhere. If he moved a single muscle, he would lose it completely. Unable to stop himself, Keegan started to cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he frantically tried to think of a way out. Logically, there was no way he’d make it to a bathroom; he wouldn’t make it past the first step. Maybe… In thoughts almost too fast to process, Keegan glanced around the dressing room. If he peed in a corner, he could pull the cushion over it, and perhaps, with a little rubbing, the wet patch on his jeans would dry up a bit… Knowing it was his only option, Keegan quickly moved one hand to try to undo his zipper. And that was it. That one movement was too much, and Keegan started to pee uncontrollably. Urine gushed out past his clutched hand and streamed down his jeans. As the leg of his pants quickly saturated, a stream of pee started dripping off the cuff, hitting the carpeted floor with a soft patter. At that sound, Keegan sobbed in earnest, crumpling in shame. He wet forcefully for what felt like ages. Liquid flowed soaked straight through his drenched underwear and flowed down his leg in hot streams. His accident pooled on the thin carpet, slowly spreading out in all directions. After peeing for nearly a minute, Keegan was finally empty. His jeans were sodden and heavy, his faced streaked with tears. He moaned softly, starting to panic. What was he going to do? He was so wet. There was no way he could walk back to the car like this; everyone would know! Hugging his arms against his torso, Keegan started to rock back and forth. He prided himself on solving academic problems, but no textbook ever gave him the scenario of a 16-year-old boy peeing his pants in a department store dressing room. Keegan stayed like that for several minutes, his thoughts increasingly incoherent, the mental equivalent of babbling. Finally, his reverie was broken by a knock on the door. “Key!” Kenny’s voice was sharp. “What the hell, man? How long does it take to put a shirt on?” Keegan whined faintly. “Come on, I bought the shirt, let’s go,” Kenny continued, knocking again. He paused, leaning his ear against the door. He heard faint shuffling sounds. “Key!” he snapped. “Let’s go!” Keegan blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes. “I can’t,” he murmured. “What?” Kenny responded, leaning toward the door again. “I can’t hear you. Come on, get out of there!” “I can’t,” Keegan repeated, his desperation increasing. He couldn’t leave. People would see. He couldn’t go out there. “What, did someone leave a bra in there, and you’re jacking off to the girl on the tag?” Kenny snickered at his own joke. “Seriously, Key, let’s go.” He pushed at the locked door and grunted in annoyance. “Please…” Keegan whimpered. He felt lost, childlike. He had to make Kenny understand. Frantically, Keegan looked around the empty dressing room one last time, hopelessly searching for something, anything he could use to cover himself. “Keegan Jefferson Andrews!” Kenny barked from outside the door. “Unlock this door and get your ass out here! What’s wrong with you?” Breathing rapidly, Keegan reached for the slide lock and pulled it aside. “God, it’s about damn time,” Kenny huffed upon hearing the door open. He’d already turned to walk away. Keegan stood in the doorway, unable to move any further. He inhaled shakily, knowing he had to get Kenny’s attention. In a voice barely above a whisper, he hesitantly spoke to his brother’s back. “I wet my pants.” Kenny froze. Keegan curled his shoulders inward, bracing for his brother’s inevitable scorn. Slowly, Kenny turned around, unwilling to believe what he just heard. Keegan did what? No way. There’s no way his brilliant little brother would have… Facing his brother fully, Kenny’s eyes widen as he haltingly taking in the sight of Keegan’s drenched jeans and red eyes. Clenching his fists, Keegan tried to stay calm, but his lower lip began to tremble traitorously. “I...I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I couldn’t hold it.” Scared and nearly overwhelmed with shame, he looked up at his silent older brother. “P-please don’t make me go out there like this.” He felt terribly young, and fresh tears welled up in his eyes. He’d lost all control, and, against all odds of success, he was desperate for his big brother’s help. Kenny didn’t say a word, but Keegan saw the muscles in his jaw clench. For one terrifyingly long moment, Kenny just stared at his wet, vulnerable little brother, his face pale, but unreadable. “Stay here.” Kenny’s voice rumbled as he turned away sharply, walking out of the fitting rooms. He looked furious. Still hunched forward, Keegan took a step back into the comparative safety of the dressing room. His eyes were drawn down to the giant wet spot on the floor, and his breath hitched, the reality of the situation hitting him like a tidal wave. He had an accident. A big one. In public. In a mall, where there were (quick mental calculation of the local population that would be at the mall this close to closing time) at least 300 other people, including workers. And his brother. His big, popular, athletic brother, who didn’t want to be here in the first place, and now had to deal with a pissy-pants 16-year-old. Keegan sniffled pitifully. To calm himself down, he ran through the likely contingencies of his current situation. Kenny is so mad and disgusted that he leaves me entirely. The store employees prepare for closing. I’ll be found in 20-40 minutes (assuming more than a rudimentary glace in the changing rooms). If I’m lucky, I’ll be found by a kindly, older woman who will take pity on me. Perhaps, in this situation, I can feign illness… Kenny is mad, but scornful. He physically drags me out of the store and out to the car, exposing the evidence of my accident to anyone who sees us. If he’s in a particularly social mood, he might make an extra effort to call attention to the situation if any of his peers are in the mall. In this event, it’s likely my only recourse is to gather any mental fortitude I can and weather the humiliation. He kept this formal monologue going, comforting himself by planning for what he thought would happen. Back on the store floor, Kenny’s heart pounded. Seeing his brother in wet jeans felt like a punch to the gut. His genius little brother, who never met a question he couldn’t answer, had peed his pants. Barely paying attention, Kenny reached a shelf full of identically-folded pairs of sweatpants. Scanning the rows, he grabbed a black pair in Keegan’s size and strode up to the counter to pay, still mired in his own thoughts. With the perfect clarity that only hindsight can offer, Kenny remembered Key’s hesitation to go shopping in the first place and the many attempted interjections each time Kenny had given him a new shirt to try on. Kenny hung his head as he grabbed the bag with the sweatpants from the cashier, muttering his thanks. Key had had to pee the whole time, and Kenny had just bulldozed over him, not even paying attention. It wasn’t that he hated the last shirt and vest; he’d just been bursting by that point. Instead of listening and paying attention, instead of caring at all about his brother, he’d just kept ordering him around. He couldn’t ever remember seeing Keegan look as broken and fearful as he had, standing in front of him in wet jeans, practically begging him not to let anyone see. Face flushed with guilt, Kenny ran a hand through his hair as he re-entered the fitting room hallway. “Key?” he called quietly, softly knocking on the last door. Resignedly, Keegan opened the door just enough to look out, still unsure of what Kenny was going to do. “Put these on,” Kenny ordered, handing Keegan the bag. “You can put your wet things in the bag.” Keegan’s only response was to shut the door, but he could be heard opening the bag and pulling out the dry pants. Sighing, Kenny leaned back against the wall. He felt terrible, but he barely knew how to talk to his multisyllabic brother under the best of circumstances, much less when he’d just all but forced him into wetting his pants. Moments later, Keegan emerged from the dressing room, tightly grasping the shopping bag that now contained his pee-saturated jeans and underwear. Kenny opened his mouth, but, unable to decide on anything to say, just nodded and turned to leave. Keegan followed, cringing as the soft material of the new sweatpants pulled at the tacky, drying pee on his legs. Neither brother said anything as they quickly strode through the emptying mall and out to the Jeep. Keegan opened the passenger-side door, and Kenny tossed the bag with the vest and shirt - the purpose of this whole debacle - in after him. The two teens stayed completely silent on the way home, each lost in their own thoughts. Keegan squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, feeling the disgusting stickiness on his skin. Seeing his brother shift, Kenny glanced over nervously, worried that Keegan had to go again. He glanced at the speedometer and sped up a bit. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the driveway. Kenny pushed the garage door opener, glancing as Keegan as if he expected him to sprint desperately in the house. Instead, Keegan was steeling himself to say something important. He carefully picked up the two shopping bags, unhooked his seat belt, and climbed down. Holding the door open, he slowly turned around to face his brother. “Thank you for getting the sweatpants,” he began, his voice shaking only slightly. He drew in another breath and straightened his shoulders, trying to reclaim any scrap of dignity that he could. “While I understand the inherent humor in the situation,” he continued, falling back into the formal argument style in which he was so comfortable, “if you were not to share the tale of tonight’s events with anyone else, I would greatly appreciate it.” Keegan raised his chin defiantly, but clenched his hands tightly around the bags to keep them from shaking. “Of course,” he went on, maintaining the same formal, mock-bored tone. “I understand that I have no control over what you do or do not say to your friends. They would, undoubtedly, find the story of your nerd of a brother acting like an infant most amusing. I am simply asking for your consideration.” His voice broke, almost imperceptibly, on the last word, and he lowered his head and turned away. With a curt nod, Keegan slammed the door shut and ran into the house. In the silence of the empty kitchen, his eyes filled with tears. He heard the Jeep pull out of the driveway and could only hope that his speech had been enough to keep Kenny from telling Ross and the guys about his accident. A whimper escaped Keegan’s throat. He wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist and trudged down the hall to take a shower. **** After washing himself thoroughly, Keegan gathered his smelly pants and underwear, as well as the sweatpants, and threw them in the washing machine. Sighing in disgust, he traipsed out to the living room to try and lose himself in some television. Rounding the corner, he stopped abruptly. Kenny was sitting on the couch. “Hey, Key,” Kenny said hesitantly. Keegan tensed. “Why aren’t you at Ross’s?” “I never went.” Keegan couldn’t look at his brother. “I heard you leave,” he said with a slight tone of accusation. “I just ran down to the shop on the corner,” Kenny explained. “You...you were in the shower when I got back.” Kenny looked almost as uncomfortable as Keegan felt. Exhausted, Keegan snapped. “What do you want, Ken?” Exhaling, as though relieved to have a chance to get to the point, Kenny rose from the couch. “Key, I couldn’t just leave with you thinking that I was going to laugh at you and what happened!” Keegan narrowed his eyes. “Oh, yeah, like it’s out of the realm of possibility that you and your friends would laugh at me.” “Key…” Kenny breathed, aghast. “I...I would never tell my friends about this!” Keegan grunted his disbelief. “Seriously!” Kenny yelped. “I...wow. I can’t believe you think I would do that.” “Laugh at me?” Keegan muttered scornfully. “Find humor in something I did unintentionally?” He swiped angrily at his eyes. He hated crying in front of his brother. “Key…” Kenny implored again. “I know I tease you…” Kenny felt worse and worse. “I would never think that something that made my brother cry is funny.” Keegan could think of several examples from early childhood to disprove that statement, but he held back, recognizing the genuine hurt in his brother’s tone. Instead, he decided to mentioned Kenny’s initial reaction. “I know how angry you were when I told you.” “Of course I was angry!” Kenny cried out. “I hate myself for doing that to you! What kind of shitty brother - what kind of shitty person bullies a guy into peeing himself?” Keegan winced at the phrase, but was captivated by Kenny’s emotion. “Key, I didn’t...I never wanted to do that to you. I was - I am mad, but only at myself.” Kenny sighed and flopped back down on the couch. “I know this was my fault, Key. I...God, I was completely ignoring you. And you tried to tell me.” Keegan bit his lip to keep it from shaking. “You just wanted to get out of there,” he accused. Kenny raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t want to be there either, Key,” he replied gently. “Yeah, well, of course not,” Keegan snarked. “Why would I want to spend time with someone who clearly doesn’t want to be around me?” To Keegan’s annoyance, Kenny grinned ruefully. “It’s so funny hearing you say that,” he said. “Because I always tell Mom how you want nothing to do with me.” “Don’t...I…” Keegan sputtered, too angry to reply logically. “Is that what you think? That this is all OK because we have no mutual desire to spend time together??” Chagrined, Kenny hung his head. “No,” he murmured. “Of course not. I was just…” “I was humiliated!” Keegan exclaimed. “Standing in that damn dressing room, soaked in my own urine, and you kept banging on the door, ‘Let’s go, let’s go, I don’t have time for this!’” Keegan paused for a breath, his face scarlet with ire and residual shame. “You’re right,” Kenny held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. He sighed and looked up at his younger brother. “Key, I swear, I came back to say how sorry I am. Look, I even picked up those weird Japanese gummies that you like.” He pointed to the plastic grocery bag sitting at the corner of the couch. Keegan glanced skeptically at the bag, but was more focused on Kenny’s words. “You...wanted to apologize?” Kenny nodded earnestly. “I know I make fun of you and we have nothing in common, but Key, I swear...seeing you like that…” His shoulders slumped. “It killed me, man. And it was my fault. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kid. I promise, I won’t ever let anything like that happen again.” Keegan’s lower lip jutted out unconsciously. “You can’t just buy me candy like I’m a child and expect everything to be OK.” “I know,” Kenny nodded. “I just saw the gummies at the store. I went in to buy snacks. I thought we could watch a movie...I didn’t want to just leave you all by yourself.” Keegan was torn. On one hand, he was too mad at Kenny to want to give him any satisfaction. On the other hand, he was emotionally exhausted. To be honest, he didn’t want to be by himself. He wanted someone to show him that everything was going to be all right. Cautiously, he looked at Kenny. “You promise you won’t tell your friends?” he whispered, his eyes wide and vulnerable behind his glasses. “I won’t tell anyone, Key,” Kenny exhorted. “Not even Mom.” “OK.” Keeping his head down, Keegan crept around his brother and sat in the other corner of the couch. Taking this as a good sign, Kenny gently held out the bag with the gummies. Keegan took it wordlessly, curling his legs up onto the cushion. “So which would you rather?” Kenny stood up and opened the DVD cupboard. “You wanna teach me the physics of the car stunts in Fast and the Furious, or point out the scientific inaccuracies in Star Wars?” “Actually,” mumbled Keegan, his mouth already full of candy. “Star Wars isn’t too bad, for being made in the 70s…”
  6. Back when I went to school, one of my best friends was a girl, named Mary. Mary was not very tall, maybe just under 1.60. She had dark brown, long hair, brown eyes, and a cute and petite body. She used to play soccer, and was well trained, with a flat belly, cute round butt and rather big breasts. This story took place when she was 16 years old. She was wearing tight black jeans, and a white sweater, and she kept her hair in a pony tail. We had a test in school, and as usual, the students were not allowed to go to the bathroom during the test. It was a warm day, and several of the students had drunk a lot earlier on the day. This led to several slight pee-needing students, but the most desperate, was Mary. I sat ca. one meter to the left, and a little behind of her, something that made it easy for me to observe her during the test. The test lasted for one hour, and half an hour into the test, I saw her crossing her legs, and putting her left hand between her legs. She kept writing with her right hand. I finished the test early (I was somewhat of a geek), and spent the time watching as her desperation grew. Ten minutes later, she raised her hand, and the teacher walked to her. "May I use the bathroom?" Mary whispered. "No, I'm sorry", the teacher said, and turned around and walked away. I was glad to sit so close, making me able to hear their conversation. Mary looked at me, and gave me a worried look, carefully biting her lower lip. I gave her a compassionate smile, and she kept writing on her test. She kept tapping her feet, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and constantly keeping one of her hands between her legs. Another ten minutes later, only ten minutes before the test was finished, Mary raised her hand again. The teacher came to her, and she asked: "May I please use the bathroom, I really need to go". The teacher once again turned down her request, and said that it was only ten minutes left. She had to wait until the test was finished. It looked like she couldn't concentrate on anything other than keeping the pee inside her bladder. She stopped writing, and kept both her hands firmly into her crotch, tapping her feet and crossing her legs. Surprisingly, she was able to keep control until the test was finished, and when the teacher said that we were free to go, she quickly rushed to the bathroom, which, lucky for her, was not occupied. Later, when I talked to Mary, she confessed that she had been absolutely on the verge of peeing her pants. At one point, she didn't think she was going to make it. She also confessed that while she rushed towards the bathroom, she leaked a little into her panties, making her panties fairly wet. But this wasn't visible on her pants.
  7. amandalu862

    female A change of underwear

    It all was because of the damn bus.... Usually the bus which I take from school back to my neighbourhood would arrive on time. But for some reason or the other, it was late. Not your late by a few minutes late. Like more than n hour late. And that wouldn't have been a worried had my bladder not given the signal that it need to empty itself. "D..amn,," I said. Usually I don't swear, not even using mild words like the D word but this was one exception. "Did I hear you swear?" My partner and one of the close friends, Jemimah asked. We ere both of the same age but definitely did not look so. Jemmimah was a tall girl, tall at the age of 13, with feminine curves and growing breasts. Many judged her cup size to be nearly B and guessed that she would have a voluptuous size by her mid-teens. I on the other hand was a short, scrawny 13-year old with a flat chest. Many people commented that I could pass as a ten or even right year old, which made me embarrassed. "Yeah, I uh need to pee," I replied. "Well, surely you can hold. We'll be at my house shortly," she replied. I was heaing over to Jem's place to work on our English project. Mum also wanted me to stay there to until she could pick me up--for some strange reason, my mother didn't trust me to be home alone, even if I was already a teen. I didn't reply to Jem and crossed and uncrossed my legs, hoping that I could really hold it. It was probably the vast amounts of Coca-colaa I had across snack and lunch time. Oh darn it, where's the freakin' bus? The rickety old bus arrived as I dashed up immediately, almost forgetting to flash my ID until the driver reminded me. The ride went smooth until a red light halted the vehicle. My bladder again gave a signal and I squeezed my nylon-clad legs together again. "Oh gosh, Lauren, you're not a kid. Hold it," Jem commented. I didn't reply again as I squeezed my legs tighter, hoping that I could really hold myself till we got to her place. Darn it, move bus, move! Finally, we reached our stop and I scooted out of the bus. Jem's house was at the top of a hill which meant another eight to ten minutes of walking. I started to pick up my pace and then after a few house, stopped. "What's wrong?" "I don't think I can hold it,.." Jem shook her head. "Bloody hell, you're not a baby! Come on, another few more houses and we're there!" I moved again then pass another side road I bent and felt a warm dampness between my legs. "Oh my gosh, are you peeing?!" "I...I..." I turned bright red as pee continued to soak my underwear and travel down my tights. "Come on, we've got to get to my house." She yanked my arm and half dragged me up the hill, A few minutes later, we were inside her bungalow. Just as I kicked off my flat heeled shoes I felt the dampness between my legs again and stopped. "Quick! Up to my room!" She again dragged me up the stairs, but not before pee another trickled down my legs and onto the floor! "Bloody hell Lauren!" She screamed. "I'm so sorry..." "The bathroom is over there and use the spare towel. I'll clean up." Nodding and giving her a "I'm sorry" looking, I did so. I just couldn't believe it, me a thirteen year old wetting myself! And in another person's home! After a grateful shower, I dried off and head into her bedroom. "Jem, I'm so so sorry. That was so stupid of me and I'm so ashamed." "Well, I guess it can happen," she said, crossing over to give me a hug, I started to feel a bit better. "You skirt, knickers and tights are in my washing machine. Should be ready after an hour or so. Here's the rest of your uniform," she pointed. Nodding, I buttoned my blouse (I told you I had no boobs yet) and donned the blazer. Turning to my friend, I remarked, "Uh, can I borrow underwear and shorts or something?" Jem began to cross over to her drawers then stopped. "Uh, I don't think that's possible." "Why not?" "Well, look at me and look at yourself." I then realised what she meant. We were so different in height a build. There was no way I could fit into her undies, let alone any of her clothes. "But...I can't just stay around semi-naked!" "Well, you're lucky I'm a girl as well. Still..." she paused then continued. "I've got an idea. Be right back." Five minutes later, she was back with some sort of package under her right arm and carrying a rather large bag with her left hand. Settling the bag down, she remarked, "I'm sure these are your size." It was then I saw the picture on package. "Are those diapers?" "If you want to use the American term yeah they are nappies. You know my mum's a nurse and my father's a doctor? My cousin is a special needs person and often visits us. She needs to wear these." "Wait, wait, are you suggesting I wear a nappy?!" "Well, as you said, you don't want to stay semi-naked right? And I don't think you and I want another accidental wetting." I started to back away. "No...no way I'm gonna put them on." "Lauren Bebbington, you will or you walk back home with nothing on you!" I wasn't really the type of person to defend myself in arguments. "Ok, but this stay between us. No one knows ok?" "Yeah, now," she tossed the package over to me. "Get them on. I don't want to see your crotch anymore." I extracted one of the nappies out of the open package and unwrapped it. It looked alot like a baby's nappy, except much larger and somehow, it did look like my underwear, except cut open. "Uh..." "You don't know how to put it on?" "Well no, it's not a pull on knickers..." "Get up from the bed," she said, with a commanding tone. I did so and reaching into the bag, she extracted and unfolded a sort of mat and laid it on her bed. It look exactly like a changing mat, except bigger. "Wait, are you going to nappy me?!" I couldn't believe this was happening to me. "Hurry up and lie own on it. We've got to finish the project for Mrs Granger." I did so, turning red in the face again. I heard her rumaged through the bag and then extract out something. From my horizontal position, I saw her squeeze something on her hands and then ow!! "Yikes!" I felt the cold sting around my groin and private part. "This is called Destin. It's cream to prevent any rash from the urine. Espeially given your accident just now." But I just bathed I thought. "No powder?" I murmured from my position. "Not that my mother taught me," she continued, and I felt another cold sting. "Roll over," she commanded again. I felt the nappy positioned around my crotch. Next the sound of adhesive was heard as the dreaded device was secured around me. "All done." I got up and felt like I was transported into another dimension. Moving around slowly, I realised how thick the nappy really was and I was waddling more than walking, Plus there was that sound. "Do you hear that?" "Most nappies crinkle," she commented, gathering up the stuff. "It feels really weird." "Well Lauren, you were the one who wet yourself like a child. Plus as you said, you dont want to stay around naked. Now, let's get on with the project." We did so as I sat with a thick bum. Time flew by and we easily completed most of the project. Then, i felt my bladder signal again. "Urm, can we pause? Need to use the loo," I said. "Don't you realise what you have on?" "Huh?...wait you want me to pee in the nappy?" "Well, that's what they are for. But wait, let's still go to the toilet. Just in case, it leaks through onto the floor." I did so and then my bladder couldn't hold any longer. I couldn't believe it as the nappy swelled, catching my yellow urine. I was certainly turning red. "Well that's a huge piss. Don't think you should sit around in that," Jem said. "You mean to get changed?" "Of course. " "I think my clothes should be ready," I countered. Let me out of this. "No, into a nappy. Your clothes need to dry off." Oh shit. Back into her room, I was place flat down on the large changing mat and the soggy nappy removed. "Ow, ow, ow," I said, as she wiped my privates and even bum with wipes. Then another sting with the Dermatological cream and within minutes, I was in a fresh nappy. "I'll put your clothes in the dryer and then we'll finish up." While she was gone, I looked down at the babyish underwear. Despite the crinkling, I slowly realised I wasn't really waddling around as I walked. Perhaps it was a good safety after all, but I couldn't imagine myself wearing nappies in public just to prevent accidents. That wetting just now was an exception, I told myself. But wearing this, well, it feels kinda cool. Jem returned and we quickly finished off our work. "Well, we've still got time to kill, your mum's not coming until five." "When will my clothes be ready?" "Another oh hour or less. But frankly you do fit into that nappy perfectly. And look cute." "I'm not a baby...." i didn't want to tell her what I thought of it truthfully. "Well, 13 year olds dont wet themselves in public." I turned red again. "Seriously, you should go to a doctor to get checked out." "Then my mother will have to know..." "Yeah well. What do you want to do? Watch TV? Snack?" "Snack," I replied, realising I haven't eaten since lunch. Soon we were both snacking on tortilla chips and dips, cookies and soft drinks. As I drained my cup of soda, she let out a giggle. "What?" "I bet you'll need to pee again." "I won't." I never told her how much soda I drank before the darn bus ride though. "Bet so." "So not." Well, she was right in the end and nature did call once again. And yes, the nappy was quite full. "Man, maybe you really ought to see a doctor," she comment as she untapped the nappy and stung me again with the wipes and cream. Maybe, I thought. I stayed and did pee a bit in the third nappy before she brought my clothes up. As I pulled up my own clean knickers, I again felt I was transported back to a new dimension. Just as I adjusted my uniform, the doorbell rang and it was my mother. "How was your day?" she asked. "Oh, just the usual," I replied, waving goodbye to Jemimah. Maybe I'll come back again, I thought. For the nappies. The End.
  8. bazinga

    malefemale Family Over Friends

    I’m back with a fic that I am actually quite proud of! It’s long and very plot heavy - I love angst, so be prepared for a lot of that. Trigger warning for cursing, fights, recreational drug use (teenagers), underage drinking, brief descriptions of violence, past child abuse, and the like. I know it sounds really angsty and heavy now, but I promise you that my stories usually get worse before they get better! Just remember that they do get better. Trust me. I’ll stop rambling now. Enjoy! x ✧✧✧ “911, what’s your emergency?” “...” “...Hello?” “...” “We’re sending an officer to your location right now. Please stay on the line.” Despite what the 911 operator says, sixteen year old Elliot shakes his head and hangs up. He can hear faint screams and sirens from the distance, so he does what he does best. He runs. // SIX HOURS EARLIER Sent to: Ollie ollie can u buy more of my medicine? I only have enough for this week Sent to: Elliot Of course, squirt. What time are you gonna be home? Sent to: Ollie idk probably around 4:30 some seniors said they wanted to see me Sent to: Elliot Seniors? El, is everything okay? Sent to: Ollie yeah haha don’t worry about it Sixteen-year old Elliot Anderson slips his phone in his pocket, ignoring the constant buzzing as his older brother continues to text him incessantly. He walks down the hall towards the cafeteria, whistling quietly to calm his nerves. Classes finished about an hour ago, but one of the older, popular seniors had bumped into him in the bathroom, saying that they needed to talk after classes. The senior, Seth, had smiled at him and reassured him that it was nothing serious, and that he should come to the cafeteria when his last period was over. Elliot nodded and scurried away as fast as possible, biting his nails as his brain made up different possibilities to why a senior would want to see him, out of all people. Shrugging his nerves off and actually feeling a little bit excited, Elliot waited for the bell to ring and now found himself walking to meet Seth again. As soon as he steps into the cafeteria, he sees Seth grin. “Hey, over here!” Seth calls out, waving him over. Elliot smiles shyly and tightens his grip on his bag, silently quickening his step. “Hi,” Elliot mumbles. “Um, you said that you wanted to see me?” “Yeah. So I’m gonna get straight to the point – I’m hosting a party later tonight, and I want you to come.” Elliot blinks. Me? He thinks, wondering why Seth would invite him out of all people. “Um…” “I know, I’m sorry if I sound creepy,” the older boy chuckles. “It’s just that most of us seniors just got accepted into colleges, and we wanna make the most out of the last few weeks we have together,” “But I’m not a senior,” Elliot pouts, feeling a little bit confused. “Why am I invited?” “Cause you’re cool, man,” Seth laughs, playfully hitting his shoulder. Elliot winces. “And, you aren’t the only sophomore invited. You won’t be out of place or anything, I’ll be with you the whole time. I can even introduce you to a couple hot chicks from the school downtown.” Elliot blushes and looks down, hiding his smile. He actually felt flattered that he was being invited out for once. “Can you give me the address? I’ll ask my brother later.” “Sure, man. Hope to see you there!” Seth smiles, grabbing Elliot’s phone and writing down his address on the notes application. Elliot thanks him and then leaves, picking up his pace and running home as soon as he is out of the campus. He gets home five minutes later, basically collapsing on the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m home!” He calls out. Elliot’s older brother, Oliver, comes downstairs and sighs when he sees how exhausted and sweaty his little brother is. “Did you run home again?” He asks rhetorically, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah,” Elliot breathes out. “But hey! I got invited to a party!” “A party?” Oliver frowns, peeking out of the kitchen. He eventually comes out and hands Elliot a glass of water. “Yeah,” Elliot shrugs, sitting down and taking a sip. “Some guy named Seth invited me.” “Do you know him? Elliot, this sounds a bit sketchy…” “We have algebra together,” Elliot explains. “He sits behind me.” “But do you actually know him?” Oliver repeats, giving Elliot a stern look. “I don’t want you to be there alone.” “Ollie, I’ll be fine,” Elliot groans dramatically. “Besides, I’m not the only sophomore going. Plus, didn’t you say you wanted me to make new friends?” “I know I did, but I’m just not sure if a party is the best place to make long lasting friendships.” “Ollie,” Elliot whines, sounding very much like a child. “Please, I actually really wanna go.” “Since when were you into parties, huh?” Oliver chuckles. “You’re mean,” Elliot sticks his tongue out, leaning on his older brother. “Look, you can even pick me up at 11 or something. I just wanna check it out.” “Okay, I will,” Oliver decides, his mood becoming more serious. “Have you taken your medicine today?” Elliot blushes and nods slowly. “But I just ran out. I told you-” “Are you sure you feel up to socializing with a bunch of older people?” “Yes, I’m gonna be fine,” Elliot sighs, feeling irritable. “I’m 16, Ollie. I can take care of myself.” “I know you can. I just worry.” “You worry too much,” he mumbles. “Just let me do my own thing, and I’ll be fine.” // “Hey guys, the little one made it!” Elliot smiles nervously, looking around the house. The music is blaring from the speakers and suddenly he wants to run back outside and chase after Oliver’s car. Shaking the thought out of his head, he smiles tightly. “Um, h-hi,” “Hey little dude,” an older girl, clearly intoxicated, grins at him and leans closer, bringing her lips to his ears. “You’re the one who can hook us up, right?” Elliot’s smile drops almost as quickly as it came. Hook them up? With what? “Sandra, shut up,” Seth chuckles, pulling her away from Elliot and wrapping his own arm around him before dropping his voice to a low whisper. “But yeah, this is our man. I’ve seen him pop pills several time in the school bathrooms.” Elliot’s face pales. Seth had seen him taking his medicine? And he thought they were drugs? “Seth, I don’t think you—” Seth’s grip on Elliot’s shoulder tightens painfully, making the young teenager whimper in surprise. The older kids surrounding him are suddenly looking at him with such judgmental eyes and he feels his heartbeat rise. “Seth,” he whispers, looking up at the taller boy. “That hurts.” Seth forces a fake smile in his direction before he lets go and leaves. “Sorry, kid. Stay here. I’ll go grab you a drink.” “I’ll go with you,” an older boy says, following after Seth. The atmosphere has clearly changed. Elliot shyly looks up at the group of teenagers around him and quickly looks back down. Sandra leans closer to him again and he flinches away. “So, kid, what type of pills were Seth talking about?” Elliot gulps. “Oh, um… I don’t think it’s the type you usually-” “Not the type?” Another guy speaks up, looking at Elliot in an extremely intimidating manner. “What type are they, then? Do you just not wanna share ‘em with us?” “N-no, that’s not it at all,” Elliot says nervously, wringing his hands together. “I’m uh, actually diagnosed with—” “What’s going on?” Seth appears, handing Elliot a drink. Everyone shrugs and goes back to what they’re doing, except for the guy who was just threatening him. Elliot is thankful for the distraction, so he quickly takes a big gulp of whatever drink was given him and chokes it down. It tastes horrible. It burns his throat. “Finish that,” Sandra speaks up as they start walking away, giving him a wink. “Come find us when you’re ready to share your loot.” Elliot looks up at Seth, confused. “Are you going with them?” He asks, eyes wide. “Yeah,” Seth replies, turning around. “Wanna come?” Elliot gulps and his eyes follow the path that the older seniors are following. It’s dark and it smells like alcohol. He looks down and shakes his head, feeling hurt that Seth just broke his promise. “Suit yourself,” Seth shrugs, and Elliot watches as they all disappear into the darkness of the hallway. // Everything is spinning. Elliot’s been tipsy before, sure, during late night Christmas dinners with Oliver, but he’s never felt this...fuzzy. He can’t hear the conversations of the people around him, he can’t walk in a straight line, he can’t understand the lyrics of the music playing, and most importantly, he can’t find the bathroom. It’s been around two and a half hours since Seth’s group left him alone with a drink, and his bladder has been slowly filling up since then. The fact that he’s nervous doesn’t help his need to use the toilet. It makes everything worse. He’s been trying to find a bathroom for the past half hour, but the alcohol in his system makes it nearly impossible. Now, he feels close to wetting himself right there. He grips the front of his jeans and looks around for Seth, taking a deep breath as he walks down the sketchy looking hallway. He finds Seth and his friends talking by the corner of the room, and he walks towards them unsteadily. “Seth,” he slurs, grabbing the older boy’s arm. Seth pushes him away automatically. “What do you want, kid?” “I needa go to the bathroom,” he hiccups, his words slurred together. Instead of the older guys leading him there, they all start laughing at him. Elliot looks up and watches them through confused eyes. He squirms uncomfortably. What’s so funny? “James, check out the kid! He’s so messed up!” Sandra yells, dragging one of her friends with her. Elliot takes a tentative step back. “I needa go,” he repeats, his voice pleading now. “Can, can you tell me where it is, please?” “Give us your pills first, and maybe we’ll bring you there.” The guy named James speaks up, his eyes dark. “We invited you here so you could share, kid. Don’t keep all the fun to yourself.” “I don’ have any pills,” Elliot tries to explain again, but he finds it extremely difficult to form coherent sentences. “No pills. Ran out. Didn’t bring ‘em. I have to pee.” “Liar,” he snarls, pushing Elliot backwards. Hard. He loses his balance, letting go of Seth’s arm and landing on his bottom. Seth narrows his eyes, but Elliot is just confused... These are older teenagers, right? Shouldn’t they be taking care of him the same way Oliver does? “Look at him,” James sneers, kicking his Elliot’s side. “No offense, Seth, but you brought my hopes up. This kid is fucking lame.” Sandra laughs and agrees, pushing Elliot back down once he tries to stand up again. “He’s a lightweight, though. This is entertaining.” Elliot whimpers and curls up as the pain radiates through his upper body. His head is spinning and bladder is throbbing again, making him feel the beginning of a panic attack starting. As quickly as he can, he crawls away from the group and sprints to another room. He can’t breathe at all. His head is spinning and he wants— no, he needs his older brother. He needs Oliver. With shaky hands, Elliot pulls his phone out and presses the first number on speed dial. He sinks to the ground, his free hand gripping his chest, as he prays for Oliver to pick up. He doesn’t. Elliot starts to cry by the third time Oliver ignores his call. His throat is closing up and his entire body is trembling with the force of the sobs he keeps trying (and failing) to hold back. He hasn’t had an anxiety episode this bad in months, and the only person who can calm him down is Oliver, but… Oh no, Oliver’s gonna be so upset that he couldn’t hold it together. Oliver hasn’t answered his calls, either. Oliver’s gonna hate him and leave him the same way Dad and Mom did. He really can’t breathe now, and he’s growing more terrified by the second. Oh god, what if he’s dying? He feels exactly like he felt four years ago, the year he and Oliver were taken away from his parents - the year his life had become a steady series of anxiety attacks. Every time he closes his eyes he sees his mom’s disappointed face and hears his dad’s angry yells. With a choked whimper, Elliot rubs his eyes and tries to breathe. He dials the only number that he knows will help him — he calls 911. PRESENT TIME Elliot bolts away from the house the moment he hears an ambulance. He’s still stuck in the same flashback - the smell of alcohol, the screams and sirens, and the feeling of being helpless is way too familiar. He runs and runs and runs until his legs collapse, and he curls up on the corner of the street, his legs, chest, and bladder burning. He rolls over to throw up, crying as he does so. There are people chasing him. It’s over. “Stop right there!” Elliot chokes and backs up when he hears that, his bladder releasing for a brief moment. His crotch is suddenly warm and wet, but he manages to stem the flow as two large figures come up to him. “Young man, stand up,” the low voice says. “Dad, m s-sorry,” Elliot slurs, hiding his face. “D-didn’t mean to -” “Dad? Young man, what are you talking about?” “S-sorry sir, I j-just - I c-can’t breathe -” “Okay, calm down, son. Let’s focus on breathing. Can you tell me your name?” The man says quietly. Elliot rubs his eyes and nods quickly. “El-Elliot.” “Okay Elliot, listen to my voice. I want you to take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds...” Elliot tries to listen to the voice, but his heart is beating too fast and he’s too far gone. He looks up helplessly at the man, tries to understand what he’s saying, but becomes way too overwhelmed. Soon enough, Elliot slumps forward and passes out while the sounds of the sirens come closer. // Elliot wakes up in the backseat of a police car. He jerks up and hits his head, whimpering loudly as he feels the pressure in his bladder. It’s more than uncomfortable now. It physically hurts, and he can feel how bloated his stomach is. He’s dizzy and tired and nauseous and he feels like he’s about to pass out again just as the car is parked. “Come out, kid,” The policeman says gently. “Call me Officer Miller.” Officer Miller leads Elliot to a room and makes him sit down. Seth and his friends enter beside him and Elliot can feel the tension and intimidation radiating off them. “Stay here,” Officer Miller says, leaving Elliot alone with a bunch of angry high school seniors. “I was supposed to play a basketball game tomorrow, you snitch,” Seth growls after he is sure they are left alone, his eyes flashing. “Now I can’t because my parents are gonna kill me thanks to you — I brought you here to have some fun, and you ruined everything for everyone. Everyone hates you now, Elliot. You’re nothing but a stupid loser—" Elliot covers his ears. Seth’s words drown out and become a muffled ringing. He can’t process anything anymore - the lights are too bright, Seth is talking is too loud, and everything is just wrong. He quietly pulls his olive green beanie down to cover his eyes, biting his lower lip so hard to the point where it actually begins to draw blood. His hands are shaking. So are his legs. And his shoulders. His entire body, actually. And he really, really, needs the toilet now. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, rocking back and forth while a couple of policemen eventually everybody away to different rooms. He starts to count backwards from one-hundred, to get his breaths to even out, but it’s extremely difficult to do so when everything feels like it’s his fault. He unconsciously crosses his legs and curls up, hiding his face from view as his bladder continues to throb painfully. “Elliot, kid? Can you follow me, please?” Elliot stands up on shaky legs, looking up at the same policeman smiling at him and barely registering the fact that his bladder has nearly reached its breaking point. He bites his thumbnail and follows the officer down the hall, his breaths hitching as he passes by his peers, who are all staring at him like he murdered someone. He clenches his eyes shut again and tries to swallow the vomit slowly rising up his throat. He can hear everybody around him murmur angrily, and he wraps the blanket around him tighter. “My curfew was an hour ago. My mom’s gonna kill me.” “Is he the kid who snitched? What a killjoy.” His head is still fuzzy, but he can understand the meaning of those words now. It hurts, but it’s true. He deserves it. Elliot is brought down the hall and into another room full of officers. He freezes and backs up against Officer Miller, who pushes him forward and into a chair gently. Elliot barely notices the small trail of urine that has begun running down his left leg in a slow and steady stream. Luckily for him, however, it stops the moment he sits down. Once again, Elliot can hear a bunch of voices speaking at the same time, and he shifts uncomfortably. This time, however, the voices aren’t angry. They sound...concerned? “Officer Ramirez, give me a quick summary, please.” “Okay. Well, the owner of the house that the party happened in is an nineteen year old male named Seth Hernandez. All the young adolescents who were caught under the influence are in the waiting room right now. Their families are being notified of the current events as of the moment.” “And the boy who called the police?” “Sixteen year old Elliot Anderson. He was under the influence of something as well, actually, but we suspect that somebody laced his drink without his consent.” “Was there anything else?” “No. When we found him, he was two blocks away from where the party was, actually.” “Two blocks away? Why?” “From what we understood, he ran away once dispatch arrived at the location. He was nearing a panic attack, and Officer Miller was the only one who was able to calm him down.” Elliot tries to block out the rest of the words. He doesn’t want to hear how pathetic he sounds one more time, so once again, he pulls his beanie down and covers his ears. Everything hurts. There are tears dripping down his cheeks slowly, his heartbeat is erratic, and he’s never needed the bathroom as bad as he does now. “Elliot?” A young police officer speaks, resting her hands on his shoulders. “You can open your eyes, you know.” Elliot whimpers and shakes his head. He’s in so much trouble - he’s trying to prepare himself for the beatings to come. Not only does he feel his anxiety rising, making him nauseous, he also feels his bladder throb urgently, signaling that he needs to find a toilet now - he turns his head up a bit to ask the officers if he can be excused, but they’re all so tall and scary, so he ends up throwing up all over his shoes, and on the shoes of the officer in front of him. “Ngh,” Elliot groans before his stomach lurches, and he throws up once more. He starts hyperventilating again, his hands shaking intensely. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll clean it up, please don’t be angry with me, I’m—” “It’s alright,” Officer Ramirez says, rubbing Elliot’s back as another officer hands places a basin on his lap. “Honey, you have a lot of chemicals in your body. You need to get it out of your system.” Elliot nods and spits into the basin, his hands shaking. “Is there anybody you can call?” She asks him once he is finished being sick. “Parents, maybe?” Elliot stiffens and shakes his head. “N-no parents. I live with my older brother.” “How old is he?” “Twenty se-seven,” he hiccups, wiping his eyes. “I wanna go home -” “Please give us his number,” she interrupts him, handing him a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’ll notify him of your situation right now so he can pick you up and you can go home.” Elliot does as he is told and resumes hiding behind his beanie while rocking back and forth. Oliver is going to be so mad, he thinks. Then he's gonna send me away forever. // Twenty minutes later, Oliver is at the police station, frantically trying to find the officers that called him. "Are you Oliver Anderson?" Oliver whips around and nods quickly. "Yes," he says, out of breath. "I got a call about my brother Elliot. Where is he? Is he okay? I need to see him and-" "Sir, please calm down. Your brother is safe, but he has been panicking since we found him," Officer Ramirez explains, and Oliver feels his blood run cold. "We need you to stay calm so that he begins to feel safe. Okay?" "Okay," Oliver nods, taking a deep breath and following her into a room near the back of the hall. When he steps into the room, the first thing he sees is Elliot curled up on a chair, covering his ears. "Elliot, honey," Officer Ramirez says, and Elliot's eyes snap up. "Your brother is here." Elliot loses control slowly at first, then all at once — his bladder decides to give up the moment he sees his older brother. The warm, wet liquid soaks the front of his pants and snakes around to the back of his knees. He doesn’t even try to stop it. He feels sickening relief as his bottom gets drenched with urine, but the relief doesn’t last long. Heat begins to pool in his lap and soon he feels tears fill his eyes. The stream lasts for what feels like hours, dripping on the carpeted office floor in soft trickles, and by the time Elliot has finished going, even the bottom of his shirt is soaked. Nobody says anything for a couple seconds. Elliot’s entire face is burning and then suddenly, without any warning, he bursts into tears. Chaos in the room ensues. Elliot feels Oliver come closer to him and rub his back as he cries while the other officers are hustling around. “El, are you done?” He whispers, and Elliot nods shakily, his shoulders trembling as he sobs brokenly into his hands. Oliver quietly bends down to tie his jacket around his waist and takes his hand. He mouths a quick “sorry” to the officers, and prompts Elliot to step out of the huge puddle of urine. Despite the tears, Elliot complies, his sneakers splashing the warm puddle around, leaving wet footprints around the carpet. “Shh, El, breathe deeply now,” Oliver whispers, keeping his hand on Elliot’s back and continuing to try and calm him down. Elliot has never felt this distraught before, so he clings to his older brother as he sobs and hiccups, gripping the back of Oliver’s shirt like a lifeline. “I’m so sorry,” Oliver mumbles to Officer Ramirez and Officer Miller. “He, he has anxiety. Clinically. This doesn’t normally happen, actually — thank you for taking care of him so well, though.” “No need to explain, young man,” Officer Ramirez smiles at him and hands him her card. “If ever you need anything, please know that you have friends right here in the station.” It all becomes a blur after that. Elliot feels hands pick him up and he continues to cry pathetically into Oliver’s neck. The officers lead them out and promise they’ll sort everything out the next day and Oliver brings them to the car. He tucks his little brother in the backseat, trying his best to avoid any more complications, kisses his forehead, and drives them home. // “We’re home, El.” Elliot opens his eyes and blearily looks around. Oliver unlocks his door and helps him stand, rubbing his back the whole time. He quietly unlocks the door to their house and ushers Elliot inside. “I th-thought they liked me.” Oliver feels his heart break as he hears his little brother speak coherently for the first time since he picked him up. “Elliot, kiddo…” “They were using me,” he continues shakily, looking up. There are tears dripping down his nose. “When I got there, they said they wanted me to hook them up with drugs. They were talking about my anxiety meds. They—they kept pushing me. And it felt like—” “El, you don’t have to continue—” “—it felt like Dad,” Elliot’s voice breaks, and he buries his face in his hands. “It felt like Dad, and everything was too loud, and I think they put something in my drink and they were laughing at me and, and I couldn’t think straight,” Oliver takes two giant steps forward and tugs his little brother close. Fuck Elliot’s soaked pants, all he cares about now is making sure his little brother feels safe again. He picks him up and sits down on the couch with him on his lap, rubbing his back. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “It’s okay, Elliot. Dad’s not here anymore. No one’s gonna hurt you.” “I didn’t mean to call the police!” The young teenager sobs into his brother’s chest. “Everything was just too loud, and I couldn’t breathe anymore! You weren’t answering your phone, and, and my head was fuzzy, and my tummy was hurting, and they wouldn’t show me the bathroom but I had to pee so baaaad!” He wails and falls apart, his hands gripping Oliver’s shirt. “I know,” Oliver whispers, closing his eyes and kissing his brother’s forehead. “I know, Elliot. I know. I’m so sorry I wasn’t answering your phone calls, kiddo." “I thought you a-abandoned me,” he moans, clinging onto Oliver tightly as more tears drip down his cheek. “I was a-all alone.” “I know, shh, I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Oliver sooths, cradling him in his arms. “I promise you we’ll never have to deal with anything like that again.” “Promise?” Elliot sniffles, clutching Oliver’s shirt tightly. “I promise, El. You’re safe.” Elliot falls asleep in Oliver’s arms after ten minutes. Once his breathing is even and it seems like he has stopped crying, Oliver stands up, hoists him on his hip, and brings him to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm, soapy water. He gives his sleeping little brother a quick bath, making sure to wash his legs extra carefully. Oliver gets Elliot dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie in record time, then tucks him in in his own bed. He sighs in relief when Elliot doesn’t wake up. This is something he knows how to do - he knows how to take care of his little brother like the back of his hand. Exhaling harshly, he changes into fresh clothes as well, making sure to keep all the wet, dirty clothes in the laundry room to be washed tomorrow. His head hurts and he is so, so angry at himself for not being there when Elliot needed him most, but he pushes those thoughts away in favor of gently running his hand through Elliot’s hair. A few minutes later, Elliot’s eyes flutter and he opens them halfway. “Ollie?” He mumbles, stirring around. “Go back to sleep El,” Oliver whispers, kissing his hair. “Don’ leave me,” he whispers, clinging to him tightly. Oliver smiles sadly and pulls him onto his lap, rubbing his back. “I won’t leave you,” he promises, trying to soothe him completely. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay, El? Not while I’m around.” Elliot looks confused for a bit, sort of like he doesn’t remember what happened that night, but he seems to accept that answer and falls asleep with his head against his big brother’s chest. Oliver looks down at him and sighs. How could anybody want to bully his little brother? Elliot was an amazing kid, and despite his anxiety, he was the kindest and most genuine person Oliver knew. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. He is no longer upset with himself, but now he is upset with everyone who let the situation worsen. If anybody messes with his little brother again, there will be hell to pay. The End (?) ✧✧✧ Aaaand there we go! Nearly 5,000 words of pure angst. I really enjoy reading your comments - please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. I listen to every piece of criticism. Also, I know that I explained Elliot’s situation with his parents very briefly, and I am thinking of continuing the story by adding one more chapter that explains what happened to them. I’ll only do this if you guys are interested in reading more, though, so please let me know! :) I have a couple more ideas that I’m trying to finish so that I can contribute more male omorashi to this website. Haha! Once again, thank you very much for reading. I hope you liked it. X
  9. I found a post in one of the threads i was looking through that had 5 or 6 links(i think) to a torrents site. The files were named teenage wetting. can someone please repost that here? would also love to see some good real wetting videos as well, thanks!
  10. LondonGirl

    My First Voluntary Wetting

    It took me a good while since my first wetting (Topic's The Long Ride Home if your interested) to ever attempt a deliberate wetting. I'd been pondering my original accident for a good few weeks now and I knew in the end I'd gotten a rush of pleasure from it. I was pondering just wetting myself in my bathroom given how it was easy to clean up but the fact my one of my parents was home all the time so I was just too scared and nervous to try it. I just didn't like the idea of one my parents walking in on their 12 year old daughter weeing her knickers... My appearance at this time was little different to the way I looked in my first topic. I now had blonde hair and had it tied up in a ponytail and my hair hung down on the right side of my face, trust me it sounds more dodgy than it was. I was wearing my school uniform which was a black blazer with a white shirt, black skirt, tights and shoes. My underwear was just a plain white bra and some white knickers with pink trim (Don't ask how I remember what underwear I had on I just remember small details like that) Anyway an opportunity soon presented itself. It was a rainy day and I was walking home from school, when I arrived home and attempted to get inside and noticed my door was locked. I remembered my mum had a doctor's appointment and was going to be home around 10 minutes after I usually got home. My house had a small entrance way before the door which I used to lay down in as it provided me cover from the rain, it wasn't ideal as it was only small so the floor was still fairly wet but I just wanted a sit down. My bladder was sending off a strong signal causing me to cross my legs, up until now I was still under the impression my mum was still home and was planning a trip to loo as soon as I got home. I'd hadn't used the toilets at my school as I just found them uncomfortable, mainly because I still getting used the whole "hovering" thing... I knew I could easily last 10 minutes so just leaned back against the wall and waited until a though shot through my mind. The floor was wet, I was already soaked from the rain and I needed a wee. I realized I had a genuine chance to wet myself and no one would know. My black skirt and tights would hide any wetness and the already wet floor would cover up any evidence of my wee. I knew I was able to wet myself if I relaxed my bladder but my fear was still there. I was still nervous about doing it. I mean my only experience previously was a few times as a child and once on a bus because I just generally couldn't hold it. By this point I had about 5 minutes until my mum was due home, I just couldn't pass this up I put my bag to the side and open my legs a bit while keeping my knees together. I just relaxed and tried to wee but it wouldn't come. I could feel my wee literally just inside me, I could even feel the warmth but the nerves were still there. I stayed like this for a while until...that first little dribble came out. I felt my knickers go warm and a sudden rush of pleasure go through me, it was stronger than last time and even caused me to whimper a little. Then it just poured out, I could feel it warm my crotch and thighs, I felt the relief in my bladder. I placed my hands on my crotch as soon as I finished and just felt the warmth for a few seconds. My mum arrived home a few minutes later and let me in without the slightest suspicion of my little wetting, plus she didn't see my soaked underwear given how she encouraged me to do my own laundry. It's a good thing she arrived a few minutes later actually, although the warm crotch was nice a first, standing in the rain on a cold day with a soaking wet crotch turns bad quickly. It took me ages to get warm again...
  11. megablackieboy

    Diaperdays

    Hello guys! This is my first story here on this site, so I'm going to write a little introduction about myself first =) I'm an 18-year old boy, I live in Paris and i've been wetting my pants on purpose since I was 13, only at home, when my parents weren't there . And they were quite absent, so I had a lot of opportunities to experience with my fetish in the bathroom. In september 2012, I moved to Paris to study, this of course including living by myself. A few days ago, I turned 18, and my bank account became totally my responsbility so my parents had no further sight on my spendings. This was for me such a relief, because it meant that I could buy diapers without having to go to the supermarket or the pharmacy. And that's what I did, a few days back, my 4 diapers arrived. And this is the beginning of my experiment. Soo the first day (it was friday), when my diapers were getting delivered I had a lot to do, and my diapers were going to be delivered not at my home but at a local store in my neighbourhood. I received a text and immediately went to get them. I came back home to drop them but I couldn't test them yet as I had to work, until 10pm. It's unnecessary to tell you that I did not go to the bathroom during work, getting more and more excited at the idea I would finally wet some diapers soon. So I got home that evening, I took my time, by taking a long shower first, and dry myself thoroughly, after that I lit up a joint to relax. Then I went into bed (at home I spent a lot of time in my bed working, practicing and studying because my appartment is like really small) and took a diaper out of my closet, a Molicare size small, and slowly put it on, enjoying every second out of it. Then, I watched a movie, still having to pee and, a bit at a time, letting my pee flow out of my bladder directly into my diaper. It's quite a huge turn on for me to pee in my pants/diaper when i'm stoned. It makes it lies 10 times more better. Just before going to sleep, I put on another diaper and made sure to drink a lot of water before sleeping. But I was like super excited, so I couldn't fall asleep and the desperation grew, until it reached the point where I was just too tired and I just wanted to sleep, so let go everything into my diaper, even leaking a bit into my bed. Normally I change myself right after peeing and never sleep in it, but this time it just felt right and i fell asleep in my wet diaper. Next morning, I got up early to work all day, from 10AM to 9PM. After that, we went out with some friends and partied all night, i got home at 5AM the next day, and went right to bed, clothing myself with only a diaper. (This was saturday) So today, sunday, I woke up at 2PM (yes, I know that's late, but sunday's the only day where I can really relax and sleep out) and got a little naughty. My diaper wasn't wet, and I didn't want to throw him away yet, because it felt so comfortable. So I just took it off, went to the toilet and put it back on. Then, I went to buy christmas gifts, with my diaper underneath my clothes. I was wearing a jeans who's rather tight, but no too tight either and a big checked shirt (red, white and yellow, quite sexy and manful shirt). I was really excited and drank a lot before going shopping. I went into different stores, peeing a litte bit each time in my diaper, it felt sooooo goooood. finally, after a couple of hours, my diaper was getting really full and I decided to go home. I didn't want to leak, but I tested my limits, by peeing a bit more in the subway and walking home, it was amazing. I got home a few hours ago and changed my diaper (which was like almost 24h I had it on) and now i'm sitting in my diaper, not having to pee yet, but really happy of my weekend and hoping you enjoyed my story. You can send me private messages, i'll read and respond, i want to get to know some people :D
  12. A special story for neptune729, presenting my first Azumanga Daioh fic. NOTE: The following story takes place after the end of episode 14. If you haven't seen the episode, don't worry too much. It doesn't spoil a lot. But do watch the show if you haven't already.
  13. Valandrea

    The mansard room

    Hello everyone, here's a one shot story (that might be continued, depending on your interest in it, my motivation, and mostly time...) that I hope you will like ! A story between a teacher and a student, again (yes, it is my passion !). Let me know if you want this to continue (I have a following part in mind but I'm not sure it's needed). Enjoy ! The mansard room As she looked around her office one last time to check that everything was back in order, Miss Rivers congratulated herself for making this small room such a warmfull place to discuss and study. Added to the ordinary teacher’s desk and chair, there was a large and colourfull carpet, a confortable sofa, two old and patched armchairs and a pile of cushions around a small low table ; on the walls there were two large bookshelves – filled to the brim – and a multitude of pictures, photographs and poems were sticked all around the room. There was a small closet and an only little window. The place was quite dark because of the masard ceiling and the lack of windows but Miss Rivers added a few coloured lamps to make the room welcoming and warm. Unlike her colleagues who prefered to use their personal office as a private place to grade their students’ papers and prepare their lectures qietly, the young teacher chose to share this room with her students so that they could continue to study in a more relaxed atmosphere. She was an english teacher and was teaching a CGSE’s students this year. Her office was mostly dedicated to them because of their important final exam. But this place was also always open for students who needed to talk. She was not a nurse, and made that very clear to her students at the beginning of the year, but she experienced herself some dark moments when she was in school and she never found someone who talk to back then. The funny thing is that she absolutely hated school when she was a student. But she actually discovered the desire to teach when she was experimenting difficulties as a student. Miss Rivers always told herself that if she was not okay with a situation then she would have to try to change it. That’s how she became a teacher, that and her love for literature. Books saved her life and she was absolutely certain that they could save a lot of lost students like she was. As she locked her office’s door, she thought about how she was considered around the school. She arrived two years ago in Harvis school in Porthsmouth and from the very beginning she shooked things up around the place. She was quite unconventional but if it bothered her colleagues at first she was soon respected by her pairs for her resluts with the students. She had an original way to teach, mostly based on discussions, debates and role plays, but she was a very hard worker and everybody could see it. Her students generally loved her because she was very dedicated to them. She didn’t only deeply wanted them to success in school (and tried her best to make them be better everyday) she also wanted, enven deeplier, them to be happy in their life. Her success came from three attributes : to be always optimistic, demanding and strict. As she drove back to her house, she thought about the day. Everything went well, her students worked intensely and she was respecting her schedule : the study of The King Lear was almost finished and they soon would start the reading of Jane Eyre. But she noticed something a bit unusual that day. Victor, one of her CGSE’s students, was working at her office after class with a few students and, as she was grading papers, she noticed that he still looked very lost. He was a transferred student who moved in Porthsmouth two months after the beginning of school, a few weeks earlier. Miss Rivers never had a chance to have a long talk with him and didn’t feel it was necessary until today. He was a serious student and had generally good grades. Until now she thought it was absolutely normal to feel a bit lost in this new town and new school. But students of the class welcomed him very well and he seemed to have made some friends already. However, today he looked distraught. She wanted to talk to him about it tonight but she had to leave the office with some students to sign a paper in the headmaster’s office and when she came back, he was already gone. The weird thing was that Victor seemed to have been waiting for her, letting his friends go back to their home while he was still sitting on the sofa. Miss Rivers was a bit worried. He apparently wanted to talk to her about something and finally decided to run away from her… She felt a pinch of guilt in her stomach. She felt that she had neglected the boy, stressing him about the months he had lost and that he had to catch up rather than seriously asking him how he was feeling. As she arrived home, she promised herself to have a private chat with Victor after class the day after. She woke up very early the morning after. As usual, she forgot some papers she promised herself she would grade for today’s class. She was used to go to school a few hours in advance, she loved to look at the sun rise up from her little window’s office. When she arrived at school, she enjoyed the silence floating along the empty corridors and regain happily the third and last floor of the building, where her small office was situated. She looked for her keys into her handbag and opened the door. As she turned on the yellow lamp on her desk, she startled as she noticed a large form on the sofa, hidden under a blanket (a blanket she kept in the closet for cold evenings). She tried to calm her heartbeats while stepping slowly to the sofa and almost stratled again as she recognized her student Victor’s hair and forehead. Neither the sound of the door opening nor the light on seemed to have waken him up. She frowned and stopped her instinctive hand from wakening the boy. How did he ended up here ? How could she had not noticed her presence after locking up last night ? Why didn’t he say he was still in the room ? Did he tell his parents he wasn’t going home ? She could not stop the flow of questions. This was the first time something like this ever happened to her. What should she do ? Realizing that his family could be sickly worried by now, she stopped thinking and decided to act quickly. With deep precaution, she kneeled next to the sofa and put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. « Victor ? » she asked softly. « Victor ? You have to wake up. » The boy frowned but didn’t open his eyes. She shook gently his shoulder and repeated her request. The young boy opened his eyes and Miss Rivers could notice a glow of panick in his gaze as he looked at her. He quickly closed his eyes firmly and moaned with distress. « Victor, look at me. What are you doing here ? » she asked with incomprehension. Victor didn’t answer. It seemed to Miss Rivers that he simply couldn’t talk. And before she could insist, she saw her student hide his face behind his hands. He was bursting into tears, violent sobs shaking him up. « It’s all right, Victor. I’m not mad at you. Calm down, dear. » she said, trying to make the kid stop crying. She was completely unarmed facing this15 years’ old boy crying like a little child. She faced a lot of tears since she started teaching but she never exeperienced this kind of cry. It was far from the usual break up sorrow or the usual fight between friends’ tears. No, this one was deep and juvenile. And she didn’t know how to deal with this. « Victor, you have to calm down, everything is fine. I promise. » she insisted. But it didn’t work. The boy was still crying, his face red and wet from the tears. As she was going to give up and stand up to call his parents, he grabbed the hand she had layed down on his shoulder. She suddenly understood that, for the first time in her life, words would not be enough to help or save her student. « Come here, my dear. I’m not going anywhere. » she said as she sat on the sofa and opened her arms. The boy let himself completely go into his teacher’s arms, but as soon as Miss Rivers hands touched his back, Victor fell back onto the sofa, hidding his face in his hands. It took a second to Miss Rivers to understand the sudden change in the boy’s attitude. She looked at her fingers with incomprehension as she noticed they were wet. The boy had peed himself. As he went to school this morning, Victor had decided he would not go back to his house, never. His dad had made the decision to come to Porthsmouth, Victor didn’t say anything, agreeing to do anything that could make his dad normal again. Despite the difficulty to leave his friends, his school and his house, he was willing to help his family to become a normal one. He was working hard at school to catch up from his late arrival, he was making new friends and was always smiling at home even when there was absolutely no reason to. As usual, he was okay to be the pillar of the family. But now, his dad went too far… He found his father in the basement drinking whiskey again, last night. He promised Victor he would stop. The teen was not okay to be the only one doing effort. He felt like his dad was giving up on him, again. So Victor made up his mind as he went to school this morning. He would drop off school to work and become independent. He had no need for an alcoholic father and made very clear these past six years that he was absolutely able to take care of his own. To make sure that nobody would have a clue about his plans of leaving school and his house, he acted normal all day. He worked seriously, ate at the cafeteria for lunch and even laughed with some friends. But he made a mistake by letting his friends convince him to come and work at Miss Rivers office after school… Miss Rivers was the only teacher he ever really liked. She was the only one who gave him the impression that she really looked at him, not only as a student but as a person. He never had been to Miss Rivers office and knew it was his last chance to experience the warm little office that evening. When he entered the room he felt a huge sensation of warmth in his stomach. The place was so welcoming, colourfull and soft. He suddenly felt his determination to leave the school melt. He followed his comrades and sat down at the sofa after greeting Miss Rivers, already installed at her desk. The group of young people was studying quietly while the teacher was grading papers. Victor was finding very difficult to play his role of normal student. He couldn’t concentrate, his mind was filled with doubts. His friends didn’t realize his distress, he didn’t have to worry. But as he rose his head from his blank piece of paper he realized that Miss Rivers was looking directly at him. Her gaze was full of worry and compassion. After an interminable gaze, she finally smiled at him with an incredible softness. Victor could not repress his cheeks to blush a little as he lowered his head. He had the horrible impression that she found out what he was planning to do… It seemed that nothing could be hidden from Miss Rivers, as if she was able to feel people’s emotions. As time went by, Victor realized that he couldn’t go back to his house to look at his dad getting drunk. He just couldn’t. He would have to find a place to stay. Anywhere but with this shameless alcoholic, he said to himself. He didn’t think about Miss Rivers’ office until the last minute. At 6 o’clock, when his friends were closing their backpacks to go home, it hit him. Why wouldn’t he stay here ? He could wait in the closet for Miss Rivers to go home and get out of the office early in the morning. No one would ever know he was here ! He closed his backpack as well but stayed in the office, telling his friends he wanting to talk to Miss Rivers in private. His friends didn’t insist and went out, accompanied by Miss Rivers who had to do administrative stuff. Victor thought it was a perfect timing and a a unique chance. He waited to hear the voices of his friends and teacher disappear in the stairs before taking his bag and coat to go hide in the closet. It was a very small one and even with his flexible body, Victor had to fold himself. He could feel his heart beat fast. What if Miss Rivers opens the closet ? What if she decides to sleep here ? He asked himself. He couldn’t bare the humiliation of Miss Rivers finding him in here nor would he survive a night in this akward and painful position. He retained his breath and tried not to make a noise as he heard Miss Rivers coming back. He could hear her preparing her satchel and putting the room back in order. After a second of silence he heard the office door closing. But then he heard a noise he didn’t expect, the sound of a key turning into a keyhole. He never expected the office could be locked. Miss Rivers repeated everyday that his office was always open… How could he have been so naive ? Of course it could be locked, it was just a figure of speech ! He bit his lips as he realized in what mess he was. He couldn’t get out. And Miss Rivers would see him in the morning. How could he have been so damn stupid ? After a moment of self flogging, he decided to get out of his painful hiding place and went back to the room. Looking around he thought that if it was his last time in this school at least it was the best place he would have been sleeping in for years. He decided to do his homework and tried not to think about his growing anger. He finished a bottle of water that was in his bag and tried to convince himself that water was filling the stomach as much as a plate of pasta. When he finished his homework it was 7 o’clock. He went through the bookshelves and tried to find a book to think about something else but his rumbling stomach, Moby Dick. He got a blanket out of the closet, lied down on the sofa and started to read. The book seemed to be fascinating because Victor didn’t even feel his bladder hurting until a rather desperate point. After 72 pages, he realized that he was moving his legs nervously. He stopped reading and felt a hard pinch in his bladder. He really had to pee and didn’t even realize it. Or maybe he just ignored it because he knew there was no way out. He looked at his watch, 8.33. His best solution was to try to fall asleep, that way he wouldn’t feel the pain and could wait until the morning after. He installed himself confortably in the sofa and went back to his reading. When he felt his eyelids fall, he turned off the light, put a hand around his crotch and let himself go through the night. Victor was a very mature kid for his age, he knew it. He had to face so many traumas and difficulties since his mom died six years ago that he was almost an adult now. But when he woke up in sweat, his hands desperately grabbing his crotch, his heart beating fast, he didn’t feel adult at all. On the contrary, he felt like a very little child. A rapid glance at his watch made him realize that it was only 1 o’clock. The room around him was dark and filled with silence. He sat back on the sofa and turned on the light beside him. « Fuck ! » he said, desperate. He felt a small patch of pee on his briefs as he woke up. He couldn’t admit that he had peed his pants during his sleep. And that apparently he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. After a moment of fidgeting on the sofa, he decided to walk around the room. He had hope that movement would calm down his urgent need. But as soon as he got up on his feet he felt a few drops coming down his penis and wetting his briefs. He moaned and squeezed his penis tighter. He sat back on the sofa, feeling incapable to put a foot in front of the other. He was keeping his legs crossed and both his hands were clutching his penis. Victor was still hoping that he could wait for Miss Rivers returns. He was absolutely incapable of picturing him having an accident in his pants, it was morifying. But he could feel his legs shaking and tears coming up in his eyes. He was feeling so weak right now. « Aaah ! » Victor cried as he felt a long spurt coming out of his penis and wetting his bum. He could feel his briefs completely soaked and his trousers getting wet. « Oh no ! The sofa ! I wet the sofa ! » he murmured, horrified. He let go of one hand to touch the sofa and check the mess he had done but as soon as he got off his penis he felt a succession of spurts coming out. Pssss. Pssss. Pssssss. He could hear the hissing noise of his pee wetting his bum and his upper thighs. He was soaked and so was the sofa. But apparently his bladder wasn’t done yet. He tried to regain control and grabbed his penis with violence, his legs moving furiously. He suddenly realized that he had an empty bottle of water in his bag ! If only he could stop himself from peeing in his pants and empty his bladder in the bottle, Miss Rivers would see just a little accident. At that moment, it appeared to Victor that it would be less morifying to have peed himself a little than completely. As if it would show that he was not a complete little kid but only half one... The only problem was that in order to get his bag, he would have to let go of his crotch again… Would he managed to do it without wetting himself completely ? He asked himself with worry. He tried to detached one hand of his crotch, finger by finger. When he arrived at the middle finger, Victor felt a long spurt telling him he could not win the war against his bladder. His trousers were now wet on half his thighs. Letting go a tear of rage he realized that he had to get his legs back into the sofa if he didn’t want to wet the carpet too… By doing so he was saying an absolute goodbye to his empty bottle and by that an absolute goodbye to his pride. It was so humiliating to prepare himself to pee in the bed. But he had to face it, he couldn’t do anything more. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let go of his crotch. He couldn’t bare the idea of peeing himself volontarily. He kept his legs crossed and his hands tightened as he felt spurts multiplying, longer and longer. After every spurt, Victor squizzed stronger his penis but in vain. He could not hold it any longer. He was peeing himself as a little child. After a few minutes of fight against his need, a final long and continued spurt of pee went down his penis, his bum, his legs, his feet. During the last minute of peeing, Victor cried silently, trembling in shame. The battle against his desperation lasted 15 minutes. 15 minutes of torture. The result was a wet teenager and a wet sofa. Victor couldn’t believe what just happened. The morning before, he was proudly saying that he was absolutely capable of being independent and there he was, crying and trembling in his own pee. He had peed himself ! He could not believe that he acted as a little boy. He acted as if he was 9 again. He acted as if his mother would come and tell him « it’s all right »… After a long time of crying, he finally fell asleep, forgetting where he was and what he would have to confront in the morning. His night battle had left him so tired that he didn’t hear his teacher coming into the room at 6.30 this morning nor was he disturbed by the light on. It was only when he heard Miss Rivers’ soft voice calling his name that he realized where he was and what happened. As soon as he met Miss Rivers gaze, he closed his eyes in shame and apprehension. It hit him, he had peed himself last night. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He couldn’t bare the shame in front of his favourite teacher. He felt his tears coming out, sobs hurting his throat. It was the first time he felt so weak since his mum had passed away. But when he felt Miss Rivers getting away from him, he got so afraid that she would never came back that he couldn’t refrain himself from grabbing his hand. Where was his independence, for god’s sake ? He asked himself while firmly taking his teacher’s hand. Not only his pants were a mess, his head too. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was doing the opposite of what he wanted to. He wished to be an adult but acted like a child… He felt himself fall desperately into his teacher’s arms. But as soon as he felt his teacher’s hands around him, he remebered his noticeable accident. Feeling absolutely mortified, he fell back into the sofa, hiding himself with his hands. She would know now. She would know that her 15 years’old student had peed himself on her lovely sofa. After a few seconds of silence, Victor felt arms grabbing him. Miss Rivers had grabbed him and was hugging him softly, repeating the same wonderful sentence. « It’s all right, dear. It’s over. » They stayed in the soft silence only interrupted by Miss Rivers’ voice, repeating the same sentence over and over until Victor’s tears dry completely. (To be continued or not – if I have the time and motivation...)
  14. pumpkinhead

    female The Halloween Party

    Just one last Halloween story!!! Since the greatest of holidays is over and everything... I haven't written any story in years (Twoish?) So please go easy, but all criticisms are well appreciated! Also I didn't really bother to give it a thorough editing, so i'm sure there are some typos and syntax errors and whatnot.... sorry! Hope you guys enjoy anyway! Happy Halloweeeeeen!!! The Halloween Party.pdf THE HALLOWEEN PARTY ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The petite freshman girl stared at the cute barista, tracing lines around his face and hair with her mind. "What can I get you?" He repeated a second time. "Oh. Sorry." The young girl blushed. "2 large Pumpkin Spice Lattes please." "What's your name?" "Rosie," She replied. "That's a nice name," he said and wrote it across the cup he had in his hand. "I like your costume." "Thanks," She said. She turned in a full circle letting him see the outfit. Yellow antennae poking out of her wavy brown hair, yellow and black striped top, and a black frilly skirt over a pair of white leggings. "I'm a bumble bee." "I can see that," he grinned. "It's nice to see not all girls go slutty on Halloween. That some pretty girls can still be cute." Just then a blonde girl put her arms around the bumble bee. She wore perfectly fitted red riding hood dress complete with matching hood. "Not all girls can pull off slutty like I can." She winked at the barista. "Well my name is Adrian," the boy said. "You girls go to school around here?" "Yeah we go to Overlook High right down the street," the blonde said. "I'm Bridget." "Nice to meet you guys. I'm a junior over at Mayfair High. You guys got plans for Halloween tonight?" he asked while finishing their drink preparation. "Not really, Going to a costume contest. Then probably just staying in." Rosie said. "Some buddies of mine are having a party late. It's near here in some old house. Supposed to be a lot of fun, you guys should stop by." "Maybe we will," Bridget smiled. "Cool." Adrian put the finished drinks on the counter, and wrote an address on a piece of reciept paper. "Party starts at 8. hope to see you guys there." The two girl took their drinks and walked out of the cofeeshop quietly giggling to each other. The sun was slowly sinking into the horizon. "He wants me," Bridget said. "I saw him first anyway," Rosie retorted. "So we gonna go hit up that party then?" "Yeah we should." Rosie took a long sip of the drink. "What else were we going to do anyway, watch Hocus Pocus and eat candy corn? We did that last year." "Yup." Rosie checked the time on her cell phone. Five-thirty. The two girls drank the warm pumpkin flavored drinks on the six blocks it took to reach the comic book store down the street. The store was hosting an annual holiday party and costume contest. When they reached the storefront a man dressed as Doctor Who was standing out front. "Rosie! There you are." "Hi Dad." "You girls gonna enter the contest?" "No way Mr. Williams," Bridget said. "Besides, that might be unfair since you own the shop and all." "Come on inside. I ordered a bunch of pizzas. And there's punch. Wait til you see the Tardis photobooth I rented!" Bridget nudged her friend in the ribs. "Your dad's a dork," she whispered. "Mm hmm." Rosie smiled. The next two hours went by as Rosie and Bridget watched the kids and teens engaging in Halloween festivities. The costume contest, bobbing for apples, and even the Monster Mash. Bridget was drinking a cup of Halloween punch when Rosie checked her cell phone. "It's past seven-thirty," She said. "Maybe we should get going and find the place." "Yeah OK, Bridget replied. "Just let me go take a piss first. I drank way too much today." "Me too." the two girls went to the bathroom, relieved themselves and fixed their hair and makeup in the mirror. "So what do you think Rosie?" "About what?" "Our first High School Halloween party. Could be good." Rosie shrugged. "Maybe." She applied some lip gloss and the two of them headed out into the night. The streets were dark and filled with children flitting to and fro, bags and buckets rattling with candy and treats. The address on the receipt paper was a good twenty block walk from the comic book store and it was starting to get cold out. Bridget felt the breeze against her bare legs as Rosie rubbed her hands together to keep warm. They turned down a lane with no streetlamps and noticed no children around. "I've never been to this street before," Rosie said. "Its really quiet over here." "Yeah, it's spooooky isn't it." The blonde girl grinned and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. She looked up and saw a large white house at the end of the lane. It looked older than the other houses with chipping paint and pillars near the front door. None of the windows seemed to have lights on. "You sure this is it?" Rosie asked. "Looks like." Bridget checked the address on the receipt and matched it to the dilapitated numbers on the house. "7781. This is definitely it. It doesn't look like anyone is home though." "Maybe we're early." "It's past eight though. He said eight." "Let's knock on the door anyway. Maybe someone is there setting up. I kind of have to use the bathroom again." Rosie walked up to the door. There was a rusted lion's head knocker across the center of it. "What are you waiting for?" Bridget asked. "This place is creepy. Who has a party in a place like this?" "It's a Halloween party stupid. It's kind of the whole point." Rosie shifted slowly from one foot to the other. She felt all the liquids slowly filling up her small bladder, only made worse by the cold night breeze. "OK, here goes nothing." She took the knocker and knocked three times heavy against the old solid door. She waited about a minute and knocked twice more. "Um, I guess nobody is home Rosie. That guy must have given us a bunk address. What an ass." "This sucks. It's over a half hour back to my place. It's cold, and I have to pee." The two girls turned towards the street to walk away. BANG! Rosie jumped forward in fright. "What the hell was that?" Bridget yelped and turned around quickly. Her eyes darted back and forth as the the large door opened slightly. "Who's there?" she called out. No answer. She took Rosie's hand and walked her up to the door. "Should we go in?" "What? Are you kidding me? I'm not going in there!" "Come on. It's probably just someone messing with us. I bet this is the right place. Just part of the party fun! Besides, don't you need the bathroom? There's one inside obviously." Rosie shivered and pressed her hands between her legs. "Alright let's do it." The girls pushed on the door and it slowly opened up with a loud creak revealing a dark foyer. The seemed to be a glistening marble and the walls were covered in old paintings. "Hello?" Rosie called out meekly into the darkness. She held tight on to Bridget's hand and the two girls stepped into the house. BAM! They jumped forward as the front door slammed shut behind them. "What the crap!" Bridget yelled. A light flickered on above them; A crystal chandelier that began swinging with a clanking sound. Rosie began banging and pulling on the front door but it didn't budge. "What do we do?" "I have no idea." She walked forward to a carpeted staircase at the end of the foyer. "Where are you going Bridgie??" "Up. There has to be someone around here. Just playing games is all. It is Halloween." Rosie's skin suddenly felt clammy and cold. She hurriedly walked to catch up to her friend. They slowly walked up the stairs to find two long hallways in either direction. Bridget took Rosie's hand and pulled her down one of them. There were sconces attached to the walls, glowing softly with candlelight. Bridget pushed open every door they came across, revealing ornate bedrooms filled with victorian decor. Rosie's stomach was feeling unsettled the further into the house they ventured. She could feel the liquid pushing against the walls of her bladder and she instinctively pressed one of her hands into her girlhood . " Do you think one of these doors is a bathroom?" "Probably. These rooms look so old I bet there's a chamberpot or something if there isn't." "Not funny dude. I really have to go." She bounced up and down on her feet. "Yeah I kinda do too. Let's find one." They turned down several long hallways opening all of the doors, Rosie's urge growing stronger by the minute. Finally one door opened up into a beautiful marble room with a sink and an old fashioned bathtub in the corner. "There's no toilet," Bridget said." "What I am suppsed to do?" "Uhhh. I guess you could go in the bathtub. Or the sink." "Seriously? How does this big house not have a toilet!" she whimpered. "Just use the tub Rosie. It's better than nothing." "I don't know." "Well if you won't, I will anyway." Bridget walked into the bathtub room. "See you in a minute." "Wait I don't wanna be out here all alone!" "It'll be quick. I promise." Bridget shut the door. "OK". Rosie hopped up and down outside, the prospect of being able to go to the bathroom causing her need to grow tremendously. She waited for a couple minutes and knocked on the door. "Bridgie?? What's taking so long?" she pressed her ear to the door and listened. Nothing. She rattled the doorknob and the door opened seemingly by itself. "Bridgie?" Her eyes widened in fright and she felt her arms go numb and tingly. The room was empty. Her friend was nowhere to be seen. She backed up into the wall behind her and felt her breathing turn fast and shallow. She felt a sharp pang in her bladder and her stomach tied itself in knots. A loud screech caught her off guard and she turned to see something small fluttering above her. "Oh Crap!" She shouted and took off running towards the door at the end of the hallway. She opened the door and shut herself in. If she kept breathing so fast she would surely hyperventilate. Screeeeeeech! She felt a trickle of warmth release into her cotton panties. She quickly pressed her hand deep and clenched the flow. She could hear the sound through the door. "It's a just a bird or a bat stuck in the house," she said aloud still breathing heavy. She felt the wetness in underwear and squirmed uncomfortably. She looked around and seemed to be in a storage room of some sort. There were old paintings stacked against each other, statues covered in sheets, and a suit of rusty armor that looked to be from the middle ages. Bridget awoke with a start. "What the?" She looked around and seemed to be sitting in a plush chair in the middle of a library. Her heart beat fast against her ribcage. The last thing she remembered was closing the bathroom door and walking towards the bathtub. Her mind was woozy and felt a throbbing against the back of her head. She reached her hand up to touch it and felt a sick gooeyness. Blood. The lights of the library danced around as she tried to regain her composure. She put a hand down onto the seat and felt more warm wetness. More blood? Was she covered in blood? She ran her hand across her thighs and noticed the fluid wasn't blood at all. She was soaking in her own urine. She looked down to see her dress pulled up. Her white panties were saturated with pee and turned a light yellow color. She could smell it now, lingering in her nose. She must have accidentaly peed while she was out cold. She stood up and stumbled over the to door of the library. She opened it and fell through to the ground into another room. "Bridget!!" Rosie yelled. She ran over and picked her friend from the ground. "Rosie?" "I'm here. What happened to you?" "I think somebody hit me. I don't remember." She held on tight to her friend. "Rosie?" "Yeah?" "I peed on myself." "It's OK It's OK." Rosie supported her friend and carried her back through the door into the library. She set her down in an armchair that wasn't covered in piss. "What the hell is going on in this house? We have to get out of here!" "Duh," Bridget replied, her head still swimming. Rosie fidgeted uncontrollably, jumping up and down in place. "What's wrong with you?" "I have to go to the bathroom really bad. If we don't get out of here right now I swear I'm gonna pee my pants too." She bit her lip. "Let's see if I can stand up straight." She felt a little wobbly but managed to get upright. "OK." The girl's began to walk to the door. Rosie walked quicker as bladder screamed for release. "Slow down Rosie, I'm getting dizzy." "Sorry. I just have to go so bad." She squirmed as she walked and felt cold sweat forming on her face. She lef her injured friend through the storage and almost into the hallway when she remembered the screeching sound. Her muscles tensed and she gingerly opened the door, peeking out with a sense of fear. The noisy culprit had vanished. Her bladder was too full and she waddled down the long hallway like a little girl who wasn't quite potty trained. When they reached the staircase she felt her urethra give slightly, and a small spurt find it's way out into her already damp underwear. She quickly stopped the pee but felt it reach inside of her thigh, finding her sheer white tights. It wouldn't be long now before her muscles would fail her completely. Bridget held onto her as she lowered themselves slowly down the stairs. She didn't like the feeling of cold wet fabric chafing against sensitive areas of skin. Rosie felt as though she really would burst all over. "Bridgie, I can't hold it. I don't know what to do. I'm gonna pee I'm gonna pee." She was shaking all over. "We're almost there," The blonde said quietly. They reached the bottom of the staircase and walked halfway down the marble floored foyer when a flash of light erupted around the room. Rosie grabbed herself hard as a torrent of liquid rushed from inside her. It ran it's way down both of her legs as she tried hard to plug the flow. She looked up and her heart pounded. There in front of them stood the barista, Adrian, a long cape swirling behind him as he walked toward the girls. "Welcome to my home!" He growled with a cackle. It was all too much for Rosie who could no longer subdue to the river of urine that flooded her panties and soaked through her white tights in long streaks. She let go of her friend and closed her eyes. Her pee escaped violently and splattered across the hard marble floor, filling her thin canvas shoes and forming a large pool beneach her. Adrian floated over to the bewildered girls, a menacing smile on his face. Rosie fell to her knees, further soaking herself in the puddle of warm urine on the ground. "Do you like my house?" He asked. "I've had this old place for generations now." Bridget looked up and in a daze, thought she saw a sharp pair of fangs reaching out of the boy's mouth, and felt a new stream of warmth running down her legs. The boy laughed as all of the lights in the house turned to darkness.
  15. p0ptartcat

    female Georgia's wet morning

    Georgia flicked her long blonde hair back as she strolled into the school gates, proudly showing off her new designer handbag to passerby's. Georgia was a 14 year old girl with beautiful beach blonde hair. She had brown eyes and an amazing smile, which exposed her perfectly formed teeth. She ruffled her collar and pulled up her skirt as she walked into the Social Area to find her friends. "Georgia!" her friend Shannon called to her. "Over here." Georgia put her bag down by her locker and skipped over to Shannon. Suddenly, Dylan and his mates charged into the Social Area, mud covered across their already dirty clothes. Dylan had blonde hair, similar to Georgia's and had green/blue eyes. "You should've seen us Shannon," Dylan said with a tone of humour. "I'm sure I should've," Shannon replied, her voice littered with sarcasm. "C'mon lads!" Dylan and his gang charged back out the door and outside. Georgia looked through a window and saw them belly-flopping off grass banks, rolling in the filth that the recent rain had caused. "They're idiots," Georgia exclaimed. "I know, but it's kinda cute watching them." "What? How can you think that's cute? I don't understand some people." Georgia's voice trailed off as the bell rang, signalling all the students to grab their stuff and go to their form registration, where after that, they spent the remaining half hour socialising. After form registration, Georgia and the rest of her form group exited their form room and headed to their first lesson: Maths. Georgia was nearly at the door to the Maths room when she felt a small twitch in her bladder. She was quick to shake it off and entered the classroom. "I want you to do the exercises on page 36 to 39. You should know what to do. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask." The class opened their textbooks to the pages that the teacher had ordered them to. "Fractions. I hate fractions," Georgia whispered to Shannon. "Damn right. I'm pretty sure you speak for the whole class when you say that." Georgia felt another twitch in her bladder, but ignored it. The thought of hard work managed to help her forget it. However, half-way through the lesson, Georgia felt more urine filling up in her bladder. She wasn't really desperate, so she decided she would go on the way to her next lesson. But ten minutes later, her bladder started to fill up even more. Georgia still decided that it was best to hold on. There was only twenty minutes left. Suddenly, Dylan let out a massive belch, causing the class to erupt in immature laughter, and a small dribble of urine to leak into Georgia's black panties. She quickly squeezed her crotch, trying hard not to let any urine escape, but no more came out. It just must've been the element of surprise that made her dribble a little bit. "No homework tonight class," the Math teacher announced to the class, causing the class to be sweeped in relief. Georgia quickly packed up her books into her designer bag and ran out the classroom, dashing to the direction of the girls bathroom, only to be swept away by a swarm of seniors exiting a classroom. "Shoot!" Georgia cursed under her breath. She then felt a warm sensation down in her panties. Realising that the knock must've caused her to pee a little bit, Georgia grabbed her crotch and attempted to run to the toilets. "What are you doing?" Georgia's science teacher said. "You need to be in class now. Go!" The teacher pushed her in the direction of the science lab. Georgia swore at the teacher under her breath and walked to the lab in a strange movement. Georgia crossed her legs tightly, trying to hold back what felt like a flood. More urine spurted into her panties and then leaked down her leg. She then quickly threw her hand down her skirt and squeezed her panties as tightly as possible. She started to feel liquids around her panties. It didn't feel like she was peeing, so it must've been sweat from all the desperation. "Ok, if I just position myself correctly, I might be able to get up and ask the teacher if I can use the loo." Georgia was just about to stand up when a voice whispered "can you help me on question 5?" It was Shannon. "Erm, I'm stuck on that one too. I was just gonna go and ask the teacher now." Georgia stood up, only for more pee to fire out of her urethra. She waddled over to the teacher's desk and asked in a hushed voice, "please can I use the loo?" "No," the teacher replied, "this is revision for an important test. You can't miss any of it!" "Fine," Georgia skulked back to her seat, not wondering if she could hold for much longer. "Did she say anything?" Shannon asked. "No, stupid cow, said we have to look it up in the textbook," Georgia lied. "Crap." Georgia had forgotten about her desperation until a long spurt of pee dribbled into her panties. She jammed her hand into her crotch in an attempt to get out of class dry. She made sure no-one was watching her as she used her spare hand to try and do her work, but she couldn't concentrate on her work, only on her bladder. The sound of the bell was like heaven to Georgia. She leaped off her chair, only to notice a small puddle on her chair. "Crap, I hope no-one notices that." She sprinted out of the door and dashed through the hallways, hand in crotch. "Yes, almost there!" Georgia's heart skipped a beat when she saw the long line outside the toilets. "Aah, what am I going to do? I can't wet myself. The school is massive, the next toilet will be at the other end of the school. I've only got one option." Georgia darted outside, pee running down her legs. She ran onto the field and ducked behind a bush. Her bladder was aching so much now, she had to let it out. She let go of her crotch and quickly tried to pull her skirt down, but it was too late. Her pee started leaking out in spurts first, then in multiple dribbles, before finally forming a stream. It soaked her panties completely and started leaking down her skirt. The pee then started filling up in her black cotton panties and then leaking out onto the muddy field. Her skirt soon became an ocean of urine. Georgia was now in tears. How was she going to hide her wetness? Her question was the answered when it started to rain, soaking Georgia completely in a mix of both rain and urine. She then felt relaxed and started peeing again, causing the rain puddle underneath her to become diluted in yellow. She then quickly ran inside, trying to avoid getting even more wet than she already was.
  16. I can't really post it here even though it's on Youtube because it's not listed. It's a movie or tv show (I think it's British because they all wear school uniforms but I can be wrong) It's about a teenager who has an overactive bladder but nobody at school knows about it at first. He asks to go to the bathroom in class but is denied and his teacher even blocks the door so he is forced to wet himself in front of the whole class. After that, he's bullied by his classmates(mostly girls) and there is a lot of drama. There is also another male character who is a huge jerk and thinks he's doing it on purpose or something. The boy does get help from his female teachers and there is a lot of drama.
  17. Valandrea

    The Exam

    Hello everyone ! This is my first one shot story. I finished to write my fic "Someone who cares" yesterday and I decided to write some one shot stories (this way I'm sure to finish them on time !). This one focuses on the bed wetting and pee accident of a 14 years old teenager. He wets himself in front of his examiner. You would have understand it, I love teacher-student stories ! Let me know if you liked this one ! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Exam Evan Mac Cormac was a 14 year old brilliant student from a small village called The Three Flowers in the beautiful countryside of the Somerset. His teachers, followed by his parents, convinced him to enter the famous Stone Bridge high school in London to get a chance to enter a good university after graduation. Evan was happy to have a chance to leave his little village. He liked his family and his teachers but he never knew how to make friends at school. Everybody was intimidated by his capacities and intelligence and they didn’t want to get too close to him. Maybe because they were afraid that intelligence could be contagious, bitterly thought Evan. The truth was that Evan was considered as a freak in his village. Every young man around him was destined to be a farmer, like their father. But Evan was not suit for this way of life. His happiness was in his books and his writings, that was all. Even his entire family, his mum and dad and his six brothers and sisters, looked at him as he was a freak. Of course they were all very proud of his bright brain but they never understood him. They never mocked him neither they tried to stop him from studying but they somewhat always avoided his presence. Therefore, when Mrs. Jones offered him to take an entrance examination at the Bridge Stone school in London, everybody felt relieved. He wouldn’t be in their way of life and they would stop looking at him as if he came from another planet. The day before the exam went like ever other day of the week : they all ate soup at the diner table and he went reading beside the fire place before going to bed while his mother was doing the dishes, his dad was saying good night to his cows and his brothers and sisters were playing some game. He was not unhappy at all, he was used to this repartition of roles. But for a second he hoped his parents would say something special on this special night. He yelled an overall goodnight before climbing the stairs to his room. He was lucky, he had a room of his own. His brothers and sisters were sharing three rooms to let him have his quiet space. He knew he was lucky, somehow. He went to bed feeling stressed about the day after. He looked at his books one last time and turned the light off early to have a good night sleep. Unfortunately, he was agitated all night. He had no idea what the school looked like. Or even London. What if he got lost and couldn’t pass the exam ? What if he took the wrong train and ended up in Scotland ? What if his alarm clock stopped working during the night and he didn’t wake up in time tomorrow morning ? On these haunting ‘what if’ he finally fell asleep. His night was filled with nightmares and he woke up the next morning feeling dizzy and sweaty. Or at least he thought it was sweat. He took a worried look at his sheets and realized he had wet the bed. His t-shirt and pants were soaked. How had pee himself… He had an accident ? How could he have wet the bed like a baby ? He was 14 years old for god sake ! Evan was panicking. The large puddle of pee in his bed was showing him that he was not an adult yet. He somehow wished that someone would come and reassure him as he felt some tears forming in his eyes. He had an accident and he was all alone. He panicked for a second that people would mock him if they saw what happened, but he remembered that he was alone in his room and that nobody would have the idea to come to wake up this morning. Maybe it was finally a good thing that his family didn’t really care about him. He got up quickly and got off his wet pyjamas and took off the wet sheets from his bed. He took his dirty laundry with him under the shower and washed them as he cleaned himself. After putting on his best clothes – a pair of beige pants, a white shirt and a dark blue cardigan sweater – he got out of the bathroom. He spread his laundry on his cupboard and on his window so it would be dry when he would be back from London at the end of the day. He tried to forget his shameful accident and to think only about the exam coming up. He got out of the room and found a plate of bread and jam on the table. His mother must have prepared his breakfast before going to bed the night before. She remembered, finally. Evan ate only one slice of bread, he was not hungry. On the other hand, he drunk two glasses of orange juice to wake him up. He gave himself his final look before going to the train station : his blue eyes looked a bit tired and his face’s fine lines underlined his vulnerable look. He noticed that he should have cut his curly brown hair and tried to make some order in it with his fingers. Hopefully he would wake up in the train and his face would loose this childish look, he thought. He thought that his pee accident was marked all on his face. He looked like an ashamed kid. He silently closed the door behind him and walked toward the train station. It was a thirty minutes walk through the countryside. Evan liked this road in the early morning; the sun was getting up but everything around him seemed to be still asleep. There was only one platform and one train waiting in the small train station. Evan entered in the train and took a seat by the window. He checked one last time that he got his London maps with the direction’s instructions given by Mrs Jones. After a few minutes, the train started. The trip was one hour and a half long and during all this time he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened last night. He was completely disoriented by his pee accident. He had never been a normal child: he grew up quickly and became independent very young. He stopped peeing himself (day and night) at the age of 2 years old and had never experienced this kind of accident before. Therefore he couldn’t stop wondering how it could have happened just before his examination. He was so used to grow up and to be more and more independent that he couldn’t bare this experience of regression. He could feel some tears coming up in his eyes at this thoughts and tried to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t behave like a child. He took one of his book and forced himself to read and tried to focus on his examination. When he arrived in King’s Cross station, he couldn’t believe the mess around him. Masses of people hurrying, screaming, laughing. He suddenly felt his head spin. He was not used to that kind of traffic and he had the feeling that the crowd was going to crush him as soon as he would get out of the train. Ignoring his heart beating faster and faster, Evan got out of the train and tried to find the train station exit. He couldn’t let himself intimidated, he had to be at his exam on time. He finally found the stairs leading to the streets. He pressed his bag against him and almost run to escape the wave of people surrounding him. When he finally got out of the station, he breathed heavily. He had to calm down before facing the examiner. He looked at his map and followed the instructions. He didn’t look up from his map, feeling on the urge to have a panic attack. He was surrounded by streets he had never seen and people in London looked so different from the countryside population that it made him feel completely losr. He thought that he would have love to have an adult which, for once, would have led him to his destination. But his father and mother would have reacted the same way as he did right now. The Three Flowers was a lovely village but it was far more different than London. He tried to vanished these childish thoughts and remembered that he was almost an adult in his family; he had to act like it. After what seemed an eternity to Evan, he finally arrived to the school. He faced the building with complete admiration. The school took place in an old Victorian manor. The teen could noticed so many details on the walls. It sure felt very different from his home school. He was finally pulled out from his fascination by a man who looked very strict. He must have been around 35 or 40 years. His dark hair seemed long for a man – under the ears -, it was cut very strictly and it made his green eyes darker than they originally were. He was dressed in dark colours and had a dark brown satchel. He seemed very tall to Evan, who was quite small for his age, and the man thin body underlined that impression of height. “Are you Mr. Evan Mc Cormac ?” the man asked politely. “Yes, sir. I come for the entrance examination.” Evan responded, feeling a pinch in his bladder due to his growing stress. “I am Pr. Guilbert. I will be your examiner today and I will also supervise your preparation. Please, follow me.” added the teacher strictly. Evan followed the man through the corridors, feeling his stress getting higher and higher. This teacher didn’t look nice at all and the teen was suddenly sure to fail. It was easy to feel important in a small village where education was not the priority, but in a school like this one, Evan felt like he was nothing. Finally, Pr. Guilbert opened a door and let Evan entered first. In the room was only one huge desk at the front and a ridiculously small one in the middle. As he entered he could feel his palm getting sweaty and his bladder pinching furiously. “Take your seat, Evan.” invited the teacher by pointing the small desk. “I will explain to you the examination’s instructions”. He gave the boy a bunch of blank paper and a pen. “You won’t have access to your bag during the exam, please give it to me”. He ordered strictly. As he took the boy’s bag, he could see his multiple London maps and couldn’t prevent a smile, which he hid from the student. “You have to listen very carefully the instructions because I won’t repeat them. The examination is separated in two parts: one is dedicated to writing, the other one is an oral discussion. You have one hour and thirty minutes to prepare the first one and thirty minutes for the interview. Is that clear ?” the man asked. “Yes, professor.” replied Evan. “For the writing part, you will have to submit an organized essay responding to the following question : Is there a better place to learn than school ? Beware, in this essay we don’t want you to defend what you think your examiner wants to read but what you really think about the subject. Is that clear ?” he asked. “Y… Yes, sir.” answered Evan, stressed by the man’s strict tone. “Concerning the second part of the exam, I will ask you questions and examine your capacity to formulate a clear and pertinent response as well as your capacity to extend the question. Now, do you have any question ?” he finally asked. “Yes… Is it allowed to get out of the room for a break ?” Evan asked worried about his more and more frequent pinches in his bladder. “Mr. Mc Cormac, no you can’t go out of the room for a break.” said the teacher, insisting with irony on the last term. “I sincerely hope that two and a half hours of work will not be too much to endure.” he finally added, sincerely ironic now. “No. That’s not what I meant, sir...” tried Evan, but the teacher had already turn back. As Mr. Guilbert sat behind the huge desk, he looked at his watch. After a few seconds he said, “You may begin”. Evan decided not to think, even for a second, about his bladder. He started to write frantically on his paper to figure out a structure for his essay. After half an hour he had found all the essay’s structure and arguments and all he had to do was to develop them. When he switched papers to write his development, he realized that he was constantly moving his legs. He hadn’t realized until now that his legs were testifying his need to pee. Even if his mind had been able to switch of the pee signal, his body was still focused on his bladder. He decided to ignore it and started to write his essay. But at the end of the introduction, he felt his bladder pinch so hard that he had to stop writing. He crossed his legs, furiously trying to make his bladder stop annoying him. He took his pen back in his hand and wrote his first argument. When he finished this first argument, he was quite proud of himself. He had great examples about learning in nature. But then he realized that his left hand was intensely grabbing his crotch. Hopefully, the desk was not showing his legs to the teacher. He could feel his bladder crying for relief. But he knew he couldn’t ask for the loo. He had to endure this horrible pain until the end of the exam. He tightened his hand to his crotch and started his second argument. He managed to finish it without any accident but he had to take a break in his writing to put his second hand on his crotch. He had to pee so bad that he wasn’t sure now that he would get out of the room with his briefs dry. After a few seconds moving back and forth on his chair, he noticed the teacher’s eyes fixed on him. His raised left eyebrow convinced Evan to get back to his writing. With regret he removed his right hand from his crotch and started writing his final argument. But he had to stop in the middle of it to tighten his penis. He had felt some pee dribbled through his penis. He could feel that his briefs were a bit wet in the front. He tried to stop the pee but he could still feel some drops coming out. After what seemed an eternity, his bladder seemed to regain a little bit of control. He finished his last argument and went on to the conclusion. He focused on that very important part of the essay : he had to convince his reader that his development was coherent. He smiled as he put down his pen, maybe he didn’t completely fail finally. But, if he didn’t failed his essay, he actually failed his bladder. Before he could realize it, he felt a spurt coming out of his penis. Now his briefs were soaked. He looked down his pants and was relieved that it didn’t show. But he blamed himself for wearing beige… What a stupid idea. He put back his second hand behind his legs and tried to prevent any spurts of pee for coming down. His bladder was seriously aching and he could feel his hands trembling. He knew he was on the urge to have an accident on his chair, in front of Pr. Guilbert. He suddenly had a great idea: take of his cardigan and tie it around his hips. That way, even if the pee would show a patch, the cardigan would hide it, Evan thought. But as soon as he let go of his crotch to take of his cardigan he felt another spurt coming out and wetting his briefs. He could feel this one was bigger than the first one. When he looked down at his pants he was horrified to notice an evident small patch of pee in the front of his pants. He quickly tied his cardigan and made sure that the leaves would hide the wet spot. He put back his hands between his crotch and prayed for his bladder to be patient. He could feel his face reddening with shame and effort. He wanted to cry so hard right now, he wanted someone to take him to the loo and tell him it was all right. But he was in a classroom with a dreadful teacher who wouldn’t even notice that he was suffering. After this moment of despair, he tried to reason himself. He was a 14 years old teenager, he would not pee his pants ! He remembered last night’s accident and suddenly felt like a very little kid. How could he wet his pants again ? Before he could tell himself more, the teacher called him at his desk. He knew that getting up of his chair without wetting wouldn’t be easy… Indeed, as soon as he got up he felt a small spurt of pee wetting his briefs. He couldn’t hold his crotch now that he was facing the teacher. Tortured, Evan walked to the front of the room. Every step was a nightmare: he could feel spurts coming out. He could almost hear the hissing sound echoing in the silenced room. He couldn’t looked down to see if his pants were showing, but he could definitely feel the front of them getting wetter and wetter. But the teacher’s face showed nothing. He sat in front of the man with relief. He handed his paper and immediately put his hands back to his crotch. He glanced at his pants and noticed with fear that there was a large patch of pee on the front. Fortunately, the cardigan seemed to have hid it from the teacher’s gaze. Evan convinced himself that he would to regain control after he would be sitting, but he was clearly absolutely desperate now. He couldn’t help but fidgeting on his chair. Despite the teacher despising glance at him, he had no choice but to bounce evidently. The teacher asked a first question. It was not a too complicated one for Evan. But his answer was confused. He couldn’t speak properly in his state. He kept trembling and his mouth was completely dry. Before he could finish his last sentence, he felt a huge spurt wetting his bum. Oh no ! His bum was getting wet. He could not hide his accident from his examiner anymore. He had to pee so bad… He bit his lips in pure despair and finished his sentence with pain. He could see his teacher writing down some remarks on a sheet of paper. Before the man begin to formulate his second question, Evan felt a succession of spurts coming out, wetting his bum and the beginning of his legs. “Oh no… No… I’m gonna… I’m… Pee...” he murmured to himself. He could hear the hissing sound of his pee coming out. He furiously hold his penis to stop the flow. He felt his face reddening and tears filling up his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to hide this awful accident to anyone now. He was peeing in his pants. “What did you say ?” asked the teacher, clearly worried now as he saw the kid’s blurred eyes. “I’m… sorry, sir.” said Evan, feeling the warmth of another long spurt. The boy was now clearly crying, not able to keep his tears from falling down his red cheeks. “Don’t cry, Evan. You’re doing just fine, you don’t need to worry.” said the man, very softly now. Mr. Guilbert didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know why the teenager suddenly fell apart. He seemed to have written a good essay and his first answer was good. Was he too harsh on him earlier ? “Do you want to take a break, Evan ?” he asked gently. “No… It’s...” Another long spurt stopped him in his sentence. The pee hadn’t hit the floor yet but he could feel he was completely soaked. “Aaah… It’s too late, sir.” continued the boy, in a sob. “What do you mean it’s too late ? You were doing good so far. What do you need, my boy ?” the man asked, now clearly moved by the boy in front of him. “I need to pee…” answered Evan, feeling completely mortified. “Oh. You can go to the bathroom then. We’ll continue our interview after, all right ?” the man said, surprised but relieved by the triviality of the kid’s need. “I don’t think I can stand up, sir. I can’t hold it...” said the teen. The flow had stopped for now but he knew it would not last. “All right, boy. It’s all right, I’ll help you.” the man said with a smile. He got up quickly and went to the boy’s chair. As he gently hold his arm to help the boy stand up, he saw the huge patch of pee on the front of his pants. “Oh ! You… You already wet your pants, Evan ?” he cried with surprise. “I’m so sorry, sir… I didn’t want to… I couldn’t hold any longer. I tried, I swear !” the boy screamed between his tears. “Okay, boy. It’s all right. I didn’t mean to scold you, I’m sure you did your best to hold it.” the man said gently. “Now, let’s try to hold it a little bit more, all right ?” he asked. Evan nodded. “I’ll hold you, don’t worry. Keep your hands tightened, my boy.” the man continued. Mr. Guilbert placed an arm around the boy’s shoulder and put his hand under Evan’s arm to lift him up. The teacher didn’t realize until now that the teen looked so childlike. He was very small for his age and the man could easily lift him up. They stepped out of the room and took a corridor. They were walking slowly, trying not to hasten the poor boy’s bladder. “No… Oh I can’t. I can’t hold it, sir. Pee… I’m gonna pee.” said the boy frantically. Evan froze and tried to squish his penis to hold his pee but it was too late. They both could hear the hissing sound followed by the sound of pee hitting the floor. “I’m so… I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to.” said Evan, panicking. As he talked, the teacher could still see the stream of pee running through the boy’s pants and hear the hissing noise. He was in shock. He surely didn’t expect that when he woke up this morning. He of course had seen some students’ accidents in the past but not like that. He used to put a firm distance between him and his students. Today, there was no distance at all. The panicked boy’s eyes brought Mr. Guilbert back to reality. He faced the boy and crouched down to confront Evan’s eyes. “Darling, look at me. It’s all right. I know you didn’t want to. I’m sure you tried your best. It’s an accident, dear. Do you understand ?” he said, surprised by his own softness. The boy nodded timidly. “I’m taking you to the infirmary were you will clean up and change your clothes and then we’ll finish our interview, okay ?” he asked, holding the boy’s arm. “I have to clean up the mess, sir.” said Evan. “I will call someone, don’t worry.” he tried to reassure. Mr. Guilbert took place next to the boy again and guided him through the corridors with a hand on his back. After a quick clean up and change of clothes, they took their place back in the classroom. Despite his horrible accident, Evan got in the school. He had weekly meetings with his new English teacher Mr. Guilbert every week. The End
  18. This is the story about how I became aware of my sexuality. I was thirteen years and one month old. We (my parents and I) had moved from Annecy, France, to Paris and then to Stockholm, Sweden, because of my father's work. After two years in Stockholm my father was called back to Paris. At that point of time my parents were seeking a divorce. My mother decided to stay in Stockholm. Both she and I had been firmly established there and got new friends. And she didn't think it would be good for me to change milieu again. I'd learnt very fast to speak Swedish fluently (though with a French accent). Besides that, my mother's aunt, grandma's sister, lived in Stockholm and both she and I loved her very much. Well, I'd just had my first menstruation. No big deal, my mother had told me about it, that I soon was going to get it and that it was nothing to be afraid of. It certainly didn't bring any sudden visible changes on my body. I was really disappointed that my menstruation didn't start a transformation of me into a more woman-like person! It didn't seem fair that most of my female class mates had breasts and I hadn't... Well, at least mine were very small...Most of them had pussy hair and some were shaving their pussies, while I looked like a baby anyhow! I was still tiny, smallest of my class, with a boyish body. I asked my mother if I couldn't have a bra. She took me in her arms and said gently: "I'm so happy that you still are my little, wonderful girl that doesn't yet need a bra!" And then she kissed me and for the moment I didn't feel a yearning for a bra any longer. But after my first menstruation I began to feel certain sensations in the lower part of my body. They appeared after I've gone to bed at night. It kind of tingled... Like I had to pee. I went to the toilet and tried to pee although I had done that just before I'd gone to bed. No result. Not a drop. So I went back to bed and tried to sleep. But I couldn't. I felt so restless! And I still felt like I had to pee. I tossed about in my bed. I rubbed my thighs against each other. But that only seemed to make the tingling more intense. So intense that I started to be afraid of losing control and wet my bed! I put a hand on my pussy to try to prevent that from happening. It was funny! It felt kind of nice but to my horror it tingled even stronger so I rushed to the toilet once again! This time I managed to pee a little and then I went to bed. At this point I was pretty tired and fell asleep. It went on like that night after night. But with the difference that I began to enjoy the tingle in my pussy! I learned that I could intense the feeling by rubbing my thighs against each other but when I'd done that for a while it always felt that if I continued I would pee myself, why I stopped... Instead I went up and peed and that seemed to ease the tingle enough so that I could sleep. Then one night it really felt like I was going to pee when I was rubbing my thighs and in panic I put my hand on my pussy! Oh, it was all wet! Maybe I did pee a little... But it didn't feel like pee... It was more kind of slippery! And then it was my pussy... Usually it was very tight but now it was wide-opened and kind of swollen! And a weird thing was that I wasn't able to lie still. My hips were moving restlessly! I jumped out of my bed and stepped in front of the large mirror I have in my room. Eww! My sleeping-panties had a big wet spot on their crotch! So, I must have peed a little, I thought. I pulled down my panties. My pussy looked so strange! As I already felt, it was swollen and wide-open and it glistened from moist! It was so wet that some drops fell down to the floor! Although the sensation I felt from my pussy was really wonderful, so strong and yet so sweet and tender, I was terrified! What was happening? Had I caught some sort of dangerous disease? I went to the toilet and sat there, trembling, for almost half an hour. My fear made me cry but finally I felt a relief when I succeeded to pee. As my panties already were wet, I didn't bother to pull them down before I peed, which felt really nice.I went to bed after I've put on clean panties and fell into a restless sleep. The day after I spent hours at my computer trying to find answers of what was happening to me. When I was finished I felt relieved! The result of my research was that obviously nothing was wrong with me. Quite the opposite! What I'd experienced was something very normal for a girl of my age! When certain things started to happen with her body... Instead of being on the verge of peeing myself, I'd got aroused and been on the verge of having my first orgasm ever! And the slippery fluids from my pussy were also something quite natural! With my new knowledge I began to plan how and when I should bring about my first orgasm. But the story about that has to wait, because right now the hour is very late and I must go to bed. But one thing was for sure; my plans for how to get my first orgasm were going to include desperation and wetting myself! I'd got a few tips from browsing the web!
  19. Charlie Kirby

    female Orgasmic Desperation

    Thank you for all the popular feedback on my content. Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but today I found time to write up a story I've wanted to share for a long time. This is the story of the first ever orgasm I experienced as a teenager, while I was still attending school. It was accompanied by a rather dramatic wetting, which I'm sure you'd like to hear about. x It was getting towards the end of my summer break. The weather was still lovely, and the days were long. Over the past week, my father had been re-decorating the house, and while he and my mom worked on the other rooms, I'd been making my own improvements to my room. My bedroom was large for a teenager. It was a square room, joining directly with the dinning area, and with a small short corridor leading into my ensuite, another surprisingly large room. In that little corridor, there were two doors, one on either side. On the left was my closet, a long, dark and dingy room lit by four small spotlights. Opposite that was a much smaller cupboard containing the heater controls for the pool. My mom had given me a budget to 'do up' my room, and I'd used it to upgrade my TV, repaint the walls and amongst other things, replace my duvet, pillows and sheets. I'd dumped my old bedding in the closet. That Friday, I woke up with that cheeky little urge to do something naughty. But with my parents home all day, I knew it wouldn't be easy. Never the less, I decided to go for a day of desperation. I thought I knew how to handle it by now, and I figured that if I just drank as much as I could all day, in the evening I could dress in some old clothes, lock myself in my room and lay in the bath. So I got up, neglected the chance for a morning pee, went for breakfast and let the fun begin with half a pint of orange juice. By 3.00 that afternoon I was already busting to go. I was in my room watching TV, and as I lay on my bed I could feel my heart beat thumping in my bladder. It was so good, so naughty, but made at the same time so nervous. My mind began to wonder from the TV show, I found myself fantasising about what could happen. There was a rocking horse in the corner of my room, and I'd had an amazing experience on it once before. I looked at it, remembering with fondness. With a smile on my face, I rolled over. As I did, I felt my undies shifting a little and realised how damp they were getting. Was it arousal, or was I leaking a little? The thought sent shivers through me. I imagined just letting go, but it wasn't anywhere near evening yet so I had to hold it. Four hours later, we were sat eating dinner. The urge was unbearable now, but I still held on. I sat very upright, not daring to move too quickly. Every time I raised my fork to my mouth, I felt a strain hitting my abdomen. It was starting to feel incredible, making my crotch tingle. But I continued on, hiding how excited I was. Towards the end of the meal I was so confident that I raised my glass to my mouth and gulped down a few mouthfuls. I then proclaimed how tired I was feeling and gently stood up, moving smoothly into my room. I quietly closed the door a leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief. I was really feeling it now. Smiling, I pushed the catch over and took a few nervous steps toward my mirror. I looked in it, and saw my whole body looking back. Gradually I peeled the clothes away to reveal a great bulging bladder resting on my naked, teenage body. I was feeling really horny now, my breasts were firm and my nipples hard. I held them, slowly caressing. One hand drifted down, pressing very gently on my bladder, creating a pleasurable strain. I clenched hard to keep it in, but a small trickle escaped. It wasn't a burst, more a calm stream of a few drops, which ran down the inside of bare legs. I wasn't quite ready yet. The old clothes I planned to wear were in a draw under my TV, and I wanted to push it just a fraction further. Stepping back from my mirror, I very calmly laid down on my bed. I was nervous, but daren't shake. As I lay back, the gravity was relieved from my bladder and I allowed my thoughts to drift away. About ten minutes later I suddenly felt a wave of pain, quickly followed by a wave of pleasure. Startled, I realised this was it. Moving gently but swiftly, I sat up. All of a sudden gravity hit me. Another wave of desperation came on. I knew I couldn't hold much longer. With my legs over the side of the bed, I pressed one hand into my nude groin. A trickle was leaking out, dripping into my hand. I pressed it harder, praying the burst would hold back. Gradually I stood up, and the puddle in my hand leaked through, dripping onto the carpet. There was another great wave. My hands was shaking. All of a sudden the ensuite seemed miles away. I'd made a terrible mistake, but it just made me feel more excited. I began taking timid steps toward the small corridor, scrapping the idea of putting on the old clothes. I'd only just got to the short corridor when my body gave an overwhelming urge. I let out a gasp as I clenched even harder. I crossed my legs and thrust both hands into my crotch. The bare skin felt warm against my hand. Then again another great urge. I fought to hold back, but it was too strong. I jet escaped, hitting the palm of my hand and spraying over my legs. Taking quick, shallow breaths I stepped forward. The spray from the jet trickled down my legs, onto my feet and down onto the carpet below. I managed three steps. My mind was racing, my cheeks hot. As I struggled to hold it in, my breaths grew quicker and quicker. I felt another wave coming over me. I grit my teeth hard, but it was no good. Another short burst hit my hand. Letting out a small worried moan, I bit my lip. The ensuite was still miles away. I crossed my legs hard and thought quick. I could just make it if I ran, but it wasn't looking good. A trickle continued to escape and run over my knees. I thought I was out of options, then I remembered the old bedding! It was just inside the closet, and the door was in arms reach! Without a moment to lose, I lifted one hand and scrabbled to turn the knob. My hand was soaking with pee. It kept slipping on the handle. But then, it clicked open! I was in! I sprung forward, uncrossing my wet legs. But as I did, it came again. A hot jet shot out, directly onto the carpet. I tried to hold it back but it wouldn't stop! Stark naked, and in full flow I ran into the dark closet. As I moved, it splashed over my legs. I leapt for the old duvet, falling forward onto it. A warm wet patch grew under me, and as it did I started bundling the duvet toward my crotch. The cold fabric rubbed into me. It felt amazing! The fabric grew heavy with warm liquid. I continued to push it and began clenching my thighs to rub it more and more. Fast and faster. My breathing was still quick, almost uncontrollable. I was fighting to keep myself from loudly gasping. All the time, the warm jet was being forced into the fabric. The damp patch grew under me, and the sounds of the crisp fabric rubbing under me was replaced with a naughty wet squelching. Eventually with dampness reached curves of my breasts, which were also rubbing into the duvet. My nerves had been replaced my pure excitement. My whole body seemed to shake, forcing the wet duvet to almost vibrate against me. The flow of pee had ended, but I continued to rub myself over the duvet, clenching it hard with my thighs, then letting go, then clenching. Every time I did, drips of pee were squeezed out over my legs. I found myself being taken over by the pleasure. My breathing was fast but deep, and all of a sudden pure joy forced out a loud moan. I was surprised, but could't stop myself from letting out another. And another. Every heart beat bought another wave of pleasure. Each one more and more powerful. Each one forcing me to moan and gasp for air. I rolled over, my bottom pressing into the duvet and being met with a puddle of cooling pee. I reached down and touch myself, just once, and got another urge to pee. So I let go, and a short burst shot out, hitting the duvet with one final beat. Eventually my breathing calmed. I was buzzing with wonder for what had just happened. I felt exhausted, aching in the groin. Below me lay a completely soaked duvet. I looked up into the ceiling, bemused. My friends had spoken about 'orgasms' before. But I didn't really know what one was. Until now…
  20. I was 13 and had sisters 11, 9 and 8. My mother took us on a day long shopping trip to the big city an hour's drive away. We went to several different stores but we did not go to the one store I wanted. When I protested that I wanted to go to that store I was told in no uncertain terms to be quiet. My mother took us back to the parking garage where there were restrooms. I had the perfect way to show I was pissed off. I told my mother I was thirsty; she said there was the water fountain. My mother took my three sisters into the women's room leaving me to go to the men's room. I stayed out drinking as much water as I could from the water fountain, then went into the men's room and washed my hands. When my mother brought my sisters out they each anted a drink, and I drank more. I was aware of my bladder; if not for my plan I would have have used the restroom. I thought I might make it home before I peed in my pants, even with all the water I drank. We started the drive back and my bladder filled but I was nowhere near desperate. We had been on the road for about 45 minutes when we passed the last place to stop before home. I waited another five minutes then told my mother I had to wee wee. She said we were almost home and I should just wait. Five minutes later I was certain I would make it home except that I was also certain I was not going to make it home. I wasn't holding at all. When we were five minutes from home I pushed and felt warmth at my crotch and saw a wet patch. There was no hiding that I peed in my pants I said to my mother I wee wee'd. She said hold on we were almost home. Although my mother missed it my 9 year old sister did not. She said only babies wee wee in their pants. I said no Mother, I wee wee'd; I have wet pants. As I said that I pushed again and the warmth spread to my butt and the back of my legs as the wet patch at my crotch grew much larger. My mother looked over at my pants and her face turned bright red and she started breathing heavily. We pulled into the driveway and as soon as I got out I pushed again and as I emptied my bladder warmth spread down my legs. My 9 year old sister started a chant T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants na na na na. I helped bring in the stuff my mother bought, walking with spread legs like I remembered doing when I had accidents when I was just out of diapers. Then she told me to go to my room and wait for her. She came with wet washcloths and towels and took off my wet pants and undies and wiped and dried me. She got out clean undies and pants and had me lay down on my bed. Her face was bright red and she seemed excited as she put on my undies then pants. She was saying things like I hadn't wee wee'd in my pants in the car since I was 4; I should know better, I ws to old to do things like that, on and on. I said I couldn't help it. Even as she was saying those things I felt great caring and affection from her; it seemed she was pretending she was changing my diaper. When I went out to the living room my 9 year old sister started the chant T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants, T…wee wee'd in his pants again. My mother told her to stop; it wasn't nice.