Alltheomorashi 364 Posted October 6, 2017 Popular Post Share Posted October 6, 2017 When I get into a groove while working, especially if it’s on something that’s been frustrating me, I tend to hone in on that and that alone. In the past, this has worked in my favor, helping me breakthrough initial barriers and finish work, especially under a time crunch. Today, however, it was my fatal flaw. Let’s get one thing straight. I absolutely hate history; however, as an English major looking for an elective that fit my schedule, the American History class was my best shot. This particular paper we have due tomorrow has been particularly difficult for me to write for no apparent reason other than a bad case of writer’s block. Having failed in all attempts to focus long enough to write the paper, I left my place and went to the campus library, hoping the change in scenery would lead to a necessary change in headspace so I could finally write this damn paper. I found my favorite spot on the second floor near the window and started (attempting to) work again. Finally, after an hour of essentially ramming my head against the wall, I found my stride and figured out how to articulate exactly what I wanted to say. I was so focused on my paper that I nearly jumped a foot in the air when my phone rang. I quickly answered it, only to remember that yes, I was in a library and no, taking phone calls isn’t typically considered acceptable in this particular setting. I rushed out into the hallway to avoid disturbing people anymore than I already had, leaving my belongings and work behind, as the familiar voice of my advisor flowed out of my phone. A few seconds into the phone call I suddenly noticed a tingling in my bladder not previously felt. Another few seconds later, that tingling turned into loud alarms blaring “Please reach a toilet now!” I wracked my brain trying to think of where the nearest bathroom was and could only think of one in another building. I decided that rushing to a further bathroom that I knew the exact location of was a better alternative to trying to run around my surrounding area in search of one, so I moved as swiftly as I could without drawing attention to myself all while trying to rush my advisor off the phone. I thought ending the phone call would help me hold on, but without the distraction it provided I found myself overly focused on just how heavy my bladder felt, mentally running through how much I’d had to drink and how long it had been since my last trip to the bathroom. (The answers were not a lot and a really really long time). As I finally entered the building with the bathroom, I couldn’t help but think how much damage would be done if I lost it. My dark khaki shorts were high waisted and pretty form fitting. I had loved the way they made my ass look in the mirror but now I feared they would be unforgiving in event of a wetting. They may have been more brown than tan but they certainly weren’t dark enough to conceal a wet spot. I quickly shook my head, as if the physical motion would somehow dispel the thought of my bladder giving in, letting all the liquid drain from my body and soak my legs. I resumed my rush to the bathroom and I swear I’d never been more relieved to see the bathroom sign in my life. Ducking into the somewhat secluded hallway leading to the bathrooms, I took this opportunity to finally hold myself as I was positively bursting at this point. I crossed my legs as I pushed the door open, feeling myself slipping, slowly losing the battle as I crossed the threshold. I heard another woman’s voice and, fearing her seeing me in such a state, I quickly ducked into the nearest open stall already feeling my urine begin to travel down my urethra. By the time I had locked the stall, I was leaking somewhat consistently. I had my legs crossed into a pretzel, hand shoved tightly into my crotch, teeth gritted and forehead resting on the wall as I struggled to hold on. Realizing I wouldn’t regain complete control, I hastily began to undo the button on my shorts only to suddenly remember the exact configuration of my bottoms. They weren’t fastened with a button and zipper, but rather with a whole series of buttons. As a result, the brief moment of relief I experienced when I had opened the first one quickly switched to panic when I realized I had three more to go. At this point, my bladder had given up and I was fully wetting myself, despite my best wishes. I could feel my panties rapidly filling as I bent over trying desperately to unfasten the various buttons. The already difficult task was made all the more impossible by the tightness of my shorts. I ended up unfastening all but the last button before I desperately began attempting to yank the shorts past my thighs. At this point, I can feel my butt growing warm as my panties yield and my piss begins running into my bottoms. My shorts catch on my thighs repeatedly before I finally manage to yank them down with my panties. The amount of piss that actually went into the bowl was almost laughable. By some miracle my shoes and socks had been spared, most likely because of my bent position earlier; however, I had made quite the puddle on the bathroom tiles and I was almost scared to look at my shorts and panties. I grabbed toilet paper and wiped myself off as best I could, before grabbing more to attempt to dab my panties and shorts at least somewhat dry. Observing my shorts from this angle, it looked like the dark brown material was surprisingly forgiving, and I had hope that the wet spot would be barely noticeable so I could retreat home and change without facing humiliation. I yanked back up my panties and shorts, cringing slightly at the dampness between my legs and the clamminess of my thighs. I listened for a moment and, having confirmed I was alone in the bathroom, I stepped out of the stall and went to examine myself in the bathroom mirror. At first it looked rather promising, as you could barely tell what had happened from the front. When I checked the back, however, my hopes were dashed. The wet spot in the back was very visible. If anyone’s eyes dropped that direction for any reason there’d be no mistaking that there was a stain and no mistaking what caused it. My jacket was somewhat long but upon shrugging it on I realized it wasn’t long enough. The hem stopped just above the crest of my ass, right where the wet spot happened to end. I groaned. My only saving grace was that the corridors were rather empty at this time. The sleeves of my jacket were far too stiff to try and wrap around my waist, so I simply walked back with my wet shorts exposed, trying to avoid people as best as possible. I moved swiftly back to the library, plopping down into the plastic chair I’d been occupying before my phone call. I had left mid-paragraph and figured, since the chair hid my shame from view anyway, I may as well finish the paragraph off before going to change. As I finished off my work, whether it be reality or the work of paranoia, I became convinced I reeked of pee. I quickly finished typing up the last sentence of my paper before hurriedly shoving everything back into my bag. I loosened the straps of my bag so it would hang lower in hopes of covering the damage, although I doubt it actually did any good. As I stood up, I could only blush as I noticed the wetness left on the seat from my soaked shorts. What is usually a pleasant 20-30 minute walk, suddenly felt like a several hours long nightmare. I spent the whole walk absolutely paranoid that people could see what I’d done and were judging me for it. Once I finally made it home and to the safety of my own place, I went to the bathroom, shucked off my wet clothes and cleaned myself off. With the frequency of these wettings and almost wettings I’m debating getting some kind of protection. What do you guys think? Should I get some kind of protection and if I do what would that even mean? Bravestone, TheGreatNobody, GreenChile and 4 others 7 Quote Link to comment
amberpee 38 Posted October 6, 2017 Share Posted October 6, 2017 Another fantastically written story with exquisite details. Thank you for sharing. It might be a good idea to locate a bathroom in the library--next time your not desperate--, since you seem to use the library on a somewhat consistent basis. I cannot suggest any type of protection, but there are plenty of good people here that will be able to offer suggestions for you (where are you Rachel?). Really hope that everything works out. Quote Link to comment
BlueWetter 500 Posted October 6, 2017 Share Posted October 6, 2017 I would suggest a bladder incontinence pad or maybe a goodnite. Both may be small enough not to be noticable from the outside.. Quote Link to comment
Alltheomorashi 364 Posted October 6, 2017 Author Share Posted October 6, 2017 Thank you on both counts! Yes, next time before studying I’ll scope out a bathroom inside before I sit down and hit the books. 3 hours ago, BlueWetter said: I would suggest a bladder incontinence pad or maybe a goodnite. Both may be small enough not to be noticable from the outside.. Great thanks! I live pretty close to a Walgreens so I’ll head over there this weekend to pick some up. Quote Link to comment
BlueWetter 500 Posted October 6, 2017 Share Posted October 6, 2017 16 minutes ago, Alltheomorashi said: Thank you on both counts! Yes, next time before studying I’ll scope out a bathroom inside before I sit down and hit the books. Great thanks! I live pretty close to a Walgreens so I’ll head over there this weekend to pick some up. Sounds good! Try them out before wearing in public.. Don't want an embarrassing leak. Quote Link to comment
nappypants 1,405 Posted October 7, 2017 Share Posted October 7, 2017 Just wear a proper adult nappy/diaper, then you can safely go in your pants whenever you feel like it Quote Link to comment
WetDave 650 Posted October 7, 2017 Share Posted October 7, 2017 Try wearing black and dark colours. Doing so has saved me from embarrassment many times. Quote Link to comment
WettingFan91 79 Posted October 7, 2017 Share Posted October 7, 2017 On 10/6/2017 at 12:11 AM, Alltheomorashi said: By the time I had locked the stall, I was leaking somewhat consistently. I had my legs crossed into a pretzel, hand shoved tightly into my crotch, teeth gritted and forehead resting on the wall as I struggled to hold on. Realizing I wouldn’t regain complete control, I hastily began to undo the button on my shorts only to suddenly remember the exact configuration of my bottoms. They weren’t fastened with a button and zipper, but rather with a whole series of buttons. As a result, the brief moment of relief I experienced when I had opened the first one quickly switched to panic when I realized I had three more to go. Very exciting sequence, loved the wetting that folllowed after. Thanks for the story ?? Quote Link to comment
PianistPony 114 Posted October 8, 2017 Share Posted October 8, 2017 Hello, i'm sorry to hear about your accident, I have quite a few of them myself, even at the age of 22. I remember a few times during my school where I was lost track of time at the library and not making it to the bathroom in time either. I hope no one noticed you and i'm here if you need anyone to talk too. -Samantha Quote Link to comment
MissSpurt 18 Posted October 8, 2017 Share Posted October 8, 2017 Very well written, and I'm very sorry about your accident. I would suggest a simple adult diaper. Quote Link to comment
wettingman 1,586 Posted October 21, 2017 Share Posted October 21, 2017 Richly detailed stories of desperation like this- the struggle not to wet and the eventual accident always get me excited. Thank you Quote Link to comment
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