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Unplanned Desperation


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I accidentally ended up doing a hold. I originally was planning on doing one, to begin with. I was left home alone, so I began with an empty bladder and started out by drinking two 24 oz bottles of water.  I wanted to wear my diaper and leak every so often.  It was going fine for a short while. I sat and watched TV and relaxed, and wet myself every now and then. It was easier than I thought, to just pee a little at a time. I guess because I had already kept my muscles working overtime from my four desperation holds from the day before. When I very first got into this and I  wanted to pee a little each time the feeling came, but nothing would come out no matter how much I relaxed my muscles. This time I really enjoyed it because it was working out better. When my bladder was empty the first time I was going to sit there in my wet diaper, feeling the warm squishy feeling as I waited for my bladder to fill up again. Except it didn't happen that way because my husband came back home instead of going to work.  OK,  I thought.  I already peed, I should be good to (not) go.  I got dressed in panties and blue jeans and hung out like normal. I was still near the bathroom and forgot about the water I drank earlier, thinking it already ended up in my diaper.  My tummy felt fine, I was dry and relaxed.  Then my husband calls and wants me to meet him by the bus stop.  Still no worries.  I kinda had to pee,  but I was always used to being able to hold for a long time without any urges to do the potty dance or the crotch grabbing.  The only thing I didn't like was that it was cold outside and I had to walk nearly 5 blocks to get to him.  I'm not sure what exactly triggered it, but the desperation that I had completely forgotten about came on so strongly as soon as I got outside.  Maybe the cold, maybe gravity made it all rush to my bladder, maybe just the steady swaying motion of walking quickly.  I don't really know,  but I had to pee really bad.  It was like a 3 out of 5 if 5 was the every day normal "gotta go soon" when I just walked out the door.  But then that scale went out the window really fast because now I felt things differently.  Now the urge was more like 9 out of 10. I was wishing so bad that I could just walk and let a stream go as I walked the way I did the previous night. (That's a separate fun story) That thought made the tingles feel even sharper, the spasms stronger.  It felt like when you put your tongue onto an almost dead 9 volt battery. Not painful the way a fresh one hurts, but still cringe inducing.  It was getting colder, my whole body was tensed up,  my bladder was tensed up, I was squeezing my pee in as tightly as I could.  And it didn't help matters any that I had to power walk to the bus stop because cold weather is not good for a slow little stroll.  The pounding footfalls were jarring my bladder and making a shock like sensation with each step.  Finally I get to him, and he decides to Walk Slow. It wasn't that far to Taco Bell where we were going to eat, but walking slowly was just as agonizing. I make little moaning sounds when it's cold out because I hate winter weather, so my little moans that go with desperation holds weren't anything he would question. It was better when we were inside. It was warmer and I could relax, and sit down, which puts pressure there so I don't have to worry about wetting for a bit.  It was even more difficult to hold it in as we walked back the 5 blocks. Drinking soda with my dinner definitely played a factor as well.  It was a 9.5 now, I was walking with an arched back, stepping softly, trying not to jiggle too much.  Still it was difficult but barely manageable... Until we got to the uneven, rutted, craggy grass field. It sounded like a great idea,  a shortcut back home...  Not.  The lumpy, holey ground only made it even harder to keep myself from having an accident.  I had to concentrate on walking softly, which I couldn't do, concentrate on still holding in my desperately full bladder, which I barely could do,  and I had to try not to fall.  Plus, worrying about losing control of my bladder in front of my husband, who isn't too thrilled with my fetish makes it fun, but this time not so much, seeing as I had less access to a place to relieve myself, and was very chilly.  This hold felt amazing to do, felt different than when I first started experimenting with the desperation and the holding, because now the urgency was greater.  I could tell that it was more difficult to hold, that I was closer than ever to losing it and peeing all over myself, that one day I would be just like those who do this a lot, and really really have an accident despite how hard they squeeze their muscles. I was so close to a 10 in the elevator that I crossed my legs tightly. I stand like that sometimes anyway, loosely on a normal day, so he didn't notice. Keeping it secret from my husband is part of the fun for me.  Resisting the urge to do the potty dance and lean over holding myself was so hard. By the time we got back I was so very close to bursting, I'm not quite sure how I made it. But I did make it... Barely.  

 

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The very end of my hold ended with me trying so hard to hold it in and trying just as hard not to let any facial expressions give my situation away. We strolled ever so slowly down the hallway, the door unlocked just so calmly. And I was wishing so badly that I could reach down and press my hands between my legs. As soon as I got inside, I headed to the bathroom, and resisted the urge to slam the door. My belt was one of those that is made like a seat belt, so one press and it was loose, which is convenient, (unless the point is to make things more difficult). Once my belt was undone, my already too loose jeans got yanked down, along with my already damp panties. I made it to the toilet, just as the Near The Toilet Dribbles started leaking.  It was such a relief that I forgot to count how many seconds it was. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

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