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  1. I know I have another interactive going, but I thought I'd start a new one in a different style: shorter entries, shorter time between entries. It's going to be primarily public desperation, whether or not she wets or enjoys Omorashi is up to you! No messing or diapers though, sorry. The main character is female, but I also enjoy male so there may be some male desperation. I'll also be sure to include actual cameos from HP, but Slytherin and Gryffindor might have more if that helps with your decision. If you want her to be in your house, though, go for it! There will still be plenty of cameos, duh. Anyway! Time to make a character! Everything here is optional, I'll fill in gaps if I have to . Name House General Appearance Likes/Dislikes Sexuality Year (not year 7, because the trio is not at Hogwarts) Feel free to add anything else, too.
  2. Soooo I have the day off work: roommates are away, the weather will be nice and I have no other obligations, other than cleaning my apartment. I pledge to document (through film and photo) whoever's suggestion I consider best. What do you think OmoOrg? I'm up for a challenge! Cheers
  3. Welcome everybody! Night of the Omorashi is an Interactive Story-Game with only one goal... to survive! Game/Story Mechanics As we go through the game, there will be many mechanics, but the most important ones are: Health - The lifeblood of our character. Make sure it stays above 0 though, or its game over! Stamina - As we do actions, our stamina will decrease. Be careful if it gets too low though because you will need it if you get into a pinch. Likewise, when our character sleeps or is doing nothing our stamina will increase. Bladder - Shouldn't need much explanation... it is what we are all here for after all ;). Our Maximum Capacity will vary depending on a combination of our Health, Stamina and the situation we find ourselves in... so be careful Hunger/Thirst - Throughout the story, our character will need to eat and drink! Don't worry though, By keeping this stat maintained you will be able to keep your Health, Stamina and Bladder up. In addition certain foods and drinks can provide unique bonuses! Inventory - Every game needs some sort of inventory! Our inventory is based off of slots with all the items we carry taking up a slot. These slots however are not hard limits, we can carry over them but going over will incur hits to our stamina In addition to this, this we also have several other passive mechanics and statistics which don't need to be micro-managed like the above. These will come up from time to time, but I will make sure to mention their rules every time they show up. Actions & Voting Rules As in other Interactive Stories, as we go through the plot, there will be default options to bring you give you some immediate ideas of what can be done, but ultimately everything that our character(s) do is up to you, the players. As the auther/GM I will be giving you guys enough time to debate and select what you want to do and won't begin the following sequence until either enough people have voted, a clear majority has passed, or until a set time limit. Votes will be tallied by a simple democratic majority and if you guys wish, you may even choose multiple things to do. =========================================================================================================================== =========================================================================================================================== Character Creation Like every good game, we start by creating our character. Be careful, Every option here will effect the game in some capacity either through increased/decreased capabilities or different scenarios Choice One: Difficulty Level / Bladder Capacity - Easy (High Bladder Capacity) - Medium (Moderate Bladder Capacity) - Hard (Low Bladder Capacity) Choice Two: Select our Gender - Male - Female (Recommended) Choice Three: Select our Age Range (Effects starting location) - Teen (18) (Recommended) - Adult (24) Choice Four: Select our Focus - Intelligence (Has more options available at their disposal with a higher chance of being able to successfully pull them off) - Physique (Higher Stamina and Health) Choice Five: What do we look like? - Hair Length/Style: (Short/Long) - Natural Hair Colour: (Blonde/Brunette/Red/Auburn/Black) - Eye Colour: (Blue/Brown/Green/ect) - Height: Tall/Short - Bust Size: (Large/Medium/Small) - Clothing Optional: Anything else you may want An example may be if you have a specific name you would like... maybe you want us to have a certain quirk. This choice is completely optional and is all up to you. If nobody selects anything, no worry I have defaults all planned out. - Name - Quirks - Underwear Colour - Favourite Colour - Phobias
  4. [[Authors Note: Hello. Well, I’ve been seeing a lot of these interactive stories and participating in some of them, so I’ve decided to give it a try myself. I’ll see if there is any interest after my first post and, maybe if a few people seem to enjoy it, I’ll continue it. This story will mix combat and character based conversations, with the typical Omo.com twist of adding bladder meters to your party members. When in combat, one’s bladder (and perhaps something else if interest is shown in it) may give out, causing them to wet themselves in battle. The bladder meter will be active at all times, for both genders of character. In addition, with few exceptions, most characters can be romantically/sexually paired up. This story will be based on the Fire Emblem series of games, with original characters. Character classes and appearances will be based on Fire Emblem series, specifically FE: Awakening and FE: Fates. In addition, stats will be loosely based on games. The Strength stat concerns all physical based attacks. Magic concerns all magical attacks. Defense concerns one’s ability to absorb physical damage. Resistance concerns one’s ability to absorb magic attacks. To make combat more simple, the speed and skill stats will not be used. The Luck stat, however, will be used, and will dictate critical attacks and one’s ability to catch themselves if they are about to wet themselves in battles. All party members will have an unique stat, which will be unexplained, but may help them depending on certain situations. Health will not be visible for the fight and will rather be displayed as a status condition. In addition, combat will be considered ‘casual’ by Fire Emblem standards, as party members do not die in combat and are instead knocked out. With this being said, if interest is shown, we may begin]] Three figures sit around a small fire in a clearing in a forest. The sounds of the forest ring out around them. An owl howling in the distance. The wind blowing against the trees. The fire roaring softly. Our protagonist looks up at their two companions and sighs, tired from a long day with a clear twinge in their bladder. [Pick a Protagonist, a supporter, and a mentor from the list below. Each potential character will be marked as either a protagonist, supporter, combination of the two, or a mentor.} Morrigan (Protagonist/Supporter) [the student of magic] Age: 18 Physical Description: A young looking girl with purple hair in curls. Shorter than average height, Five foot two. Covers herself with the basic blue robes of a student of magic. With pale skin and a slim build, she has equally slim breasts and a small bladder. Very modest about where she relieves herself. Background: Naturally gifted in magic and naturally able to use dark magic, Morrigan was unaware of her powers until her 13th birthday, when her normal life with her parents in a small town changed forever when she fell into a mirror. After five years that she barely recalls, her powers have became stable and powerful as she awoke in a forest. If chosen as protagonist, the Coming Home quest will be activated. Class/Starting Stats: Mage, Level 10 Strength: 0 Magic: 7+2(Magic +2) Defense: 2 Resistance: 5 Luck: 5 Cuteness: 10 Skills: Shadowfaire: Allows this unit to use dark tomes, even if not a dark mage. Magic 2+: Gains a natural +2 to magic stat. Starting equipment: Flux: Dark Magic, 60% Accuracy, 5 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Wind: Wind magic, 90% Accuracy, 1 base damage, 0% natural crit chance Ace (Protagonist/Supporter) [the sharpshooter] Age: 18 Physical Description: A young man with short, brown hair. Five foot five in height, tan skin, and an athletic build. Wears the light chainmail coat with his family crest, a gold bow with a white arrow, on his arms. He has a medium sized bladder, reserved about where he relieves himself. Background: Ace was the son of a noble family who were known for the great archers who belonged to the line. As such, Ace was trained in archery from a young age. After joining the military, Ace and his squad were sent on a mission deep into enemy territory. Ace and his squad were separated, with the rest of his squad presumed dead. If selected as protagonist, the starting mission “Mission Report” will be activated. Class/Starting stats: Archer: Level 10 Strength: 6 Magic: 1 Defense: 4 Resistance: 4 Luck:4 Focus: 10 Skills: Headshot: 30% additional chance to crit +20 Hit: Additional +20% to hit Starting Equipment: Iron Bow: A common bow: 70% Accuracy, 4 base damage, 0% natural crit chance. Vera (Protagonist)[the vengeful one] Age: 20 Physical description: A woman with half her face scarred, her long hair dyed a dark shade of pink covers the scarred half of her face. Her skin is deeply tanned, her build athletic, and her breasts firm B cups, she wears a white tank top and long black pants, which she doesn’t mind emptying her bladder into. She has a medium sized bladder, but isn’t reserved about where she empties it. Background: Vera was once a high school student in a foreign land, but after an encounter with a devious magic user, she ‘died’. However, she woke up in a forest, in an age which to her seemed distant, less advanced than what she was used to. If chosen as protagonist, the starting quest Revenga will be activated. Cannot be chosen as a supporter, as Vera follows no one. Class/Starting Stats: Samurai:: Level 10 Strength: 7 Magic: 0 Defense: 5 Resistance: 2 Luck: 3 Angst: 10 Skills: Bloodlust: Boosts all stats temporarily by 1 after successfully felling an enemy. Vantage: 20% increased chance to dodge attacks of any type. Starting Equipment: Iron Katana: A standard katana: 80% accuracy, 4 base damage, 15% natural crit chance. Rose (Protagonist/Supporter)[the loyal friend] Age: 21 Physical appearance: a young woman with long flaming red hair. With tan skin and B cup breasts covered by her suit of leather armor. She has a large bladder, but is somewhat reserved on where she releases it. Background: Vera’s best friend, after discovering that her friend was actually alive somewhere, she hunted down an associate of the man responsible and forced him to send Rose after Vera. Donning a set of plain leather armor and a straight sword to fit to her new surroundings, selecting Rose as a protagonist will activate the starting quest Vera. In addition, if she supports Vera, she will gain a different unique stat. Class/Starting Stats: Mercenary: Level 10 Strength: 8 Magic: 0 Defense: 3 Resistance 3 Luck: 3 Determination: 10 (If not supporting Vera) Persuasion: 10 (If supporting Vera) Skills: Duelist: Deals increased damage when facing a single opponent Patience: 10% increased chance to dodge and hit when enemy attacks first Starting equipment: Iron Straight Sword: A standard straight sword: 85% Accuracy, 3 base damage, 5% natural crit chance. Iron shield: A common shield used throughout the land. Kara (Supporter)[the allied knight] Age: 22 Physical description: A tall ‘women’, six feet tall, with brunette hair that reaches her shoulders. Wrapped in light plate mail that covers her dark skin. She has a large bladder and is willing to empty it anywhere, but only in front of people she trusts with her secret. Background: Kara once trained as a knight and in the way of using a lance. Though, after complications arose when trying to join the military, she joined a mercenary group. After her group was annihilated in battle, she disappeared into the woods until she found the protagonist. Has always been a follower, and therefore cannot be the protagonist. Class/Starting Stats: Knight: Level 10 Strength: 8 Magic: 0 Defense: 7+2 (Defense +2) Resistance: 1 Luck: 2 Defense: 10 Skills: Sworn Shield: 25% chance to defend the protagonist from attacks when nearby. Defense +2: Additional 2 points in Defense) Starting equipment: Spear: A lance that can be easily thrown: 70% accuracy, 3 base damage, 5% natural crit chance. Steel shield: A well made shield meant for a knight: Evans (Protagonist/Supporter)[the rogue ninja] Age: 22 Physical description: A blond haired man of average height and athletic build, clad in plain green robes. Usually keeps to himself when it comes to his private needs, unless he’s drank alcohol recently, a common event, in which case he’s usually open with it. Background: A self-taught ninja, who learned the art from a series of scrolls rather than formal teaching, His main purpose from this was to sell his skill to the highest bidder, though eventually learned of his true calling. Choosing him as the protagonist activates the starting quest Revolution. Class/starting stats: Ninja: Level 10 Strength: 4 Magic: 0 Defense: 3 Resistance: 5 Luck: 7 Cunning: 10 Skills: Acrobat: Has a 40% chance to dodge all attacks. Vanishing Act: Can disappear from enemies for a short time using smoke bombs. Starting equipment: Kunai Knives (x2): A ninja’s knife, good for close and ranged combat: 90% accuracy, 3 base damage, 40% natural crit chance Smoke bombs (x5): A small package which causes an explosion of smoke when thrown to the ground. Sif (Protagonist/Supporter)[the murder doll] Age: 19 Physical description: A small looking woman with short black hair clad in chain and cloth armor. Pale skin, making her resemble a large painted doll when not moving. Has tiny breasts and an even smaller bladder, which she will relieve whenever she pleases. Background: A skilled fighter, Sif’s doll like appearance makes her enemies underestimate her. By the time they realize their mistake, it is too late. Little is known about Sif’s past. If chosen as the protagonist, starting quest The Doll is activated. Class/Starting Stats: Spear Fighter: Level 10 Strength: 6 Magic:0 Defense: 4 Resistance: 2 Luck: 4 Brutality: 10 Skills: Merciless: 40% chance to instantly finish off an enemy when they are wounded. Lethality: 10% chance to instantly finish off an enemy. Starting equipment: Iron Nagitama: An eastern polearm: 70% accuracy, 5 base damage, 15% natural crit chance. Ciel (mentor)[the witch seer] Age: ??? Physical description: A young looking woman with short purple hair and a golden eye patch. Her purple robe and black witch hat cover her body, making it unsure what her body looks like. She also never seems to relieve herself, which means that either she can relieve herself magically or the inside of her robe is usually soaked. Background: Ciel is a witch who has forgotten how long she has known magic or been able to see into the future. All she is certain of is that the protagonist needs her assistance, whether Ciel likes it or not. Class/Starting Stats: Witch, Level 25 Strength: 2 Magic: 9 Defense: 3 Resistance: 7 Luck: 4 Wisdom: 10 Skills: Future Sight: 60% chance to avoid enemy attacks, after seeing them happen in the future. Witchcraft: 5% chance on turning enemies into small animal when attacking with dark magic Starting equipment: Nosferatu: A dark tome: 60% accuracy, 6 base damage, 5% natural crit chance, absorbs half damage dealt as health. Alice (Mentor)[the assassin’s legacy) Age: 31 Physical description: A woman with a long brown hair in a pony tail. Standing five foot ten, usually in tight leather, pressing her B cups close to her body, she is more concerned about who sees her relieve her medium sized bladder rather than where she does it. For example, she will not pee in front of her daughter. In addition, she won’t cheat on her husband, but if pushed to her sexual limit, she imagines her husband would forgive her if it was with another woman. Background: Working as an assassin for many years while her husband raised their daughter, Morrigan. Once her daughter and husband went missing, she retired from assassination and went out into the world to find them, helping whoever she could along her along the way. If mentoring Morrigan, starting quest is changed to Father. Class/Starting Stats: Assassin: Level 5 Strength: 7 Magic: 0 Defense:3 Resistance: 4 Luck: 7 Dexterity: 10 Skills: Heartseeker: All attacks have an additional 30% chance to crit Lethality: Has a 10% chance to instantly kill her enemy. Starting equipment: Estoc: A deadly thrusting sword: 80% accuracy, 7 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Steel bow: A well-made longbow: 85% accuracy, 6 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Z (Mentor)[the grim knight] Age: ??? Physical description: An imposing six foot one figure clad in black plate mail with a featureless black mask. The only piece of skin that can be seen is his impressive manhood in one of the rare moments that he relieves himself. Background: A mysterious man who refuses to say why he is here, but has shown how prowess in combat enough for few to question him or his loyalty. Class/Starting stats: Revenant: Level 5 Strength: 6 Magic: 6 Defense: 5 Resistance: 4 Luck: 2 Dominance: 10 Skills: Soul Crash: When using magic, high chance to stun enemies Soul Crush: Has the ability to make sure that fallen enemies don’t get back up. Starting equipment: Dark axe: A large axe made from a black metal: 50% accuracy, 8 base damage, 20% natural crit chance. Black fireball: a burning orb of darkness hurled at the enemy: 60% accuracy, 6 base damage, 10% natural crit chance. With the options available, please vote for the combination you would like to see. If I see a trend, I’ll continue this story with Chapter One. In addition, if you would like to, please vote from a scale of one to five (one being dry, five being completely soaked) on how much you would like omorashi to play a factor. Also, vote whether or not you’d like to see messing make appearances in the story. With that being said, fingers crossed that this little story of mine turns out well.
  5. I've noticed a lot of threads about people holding it, and then posting what is happening to them as time passes. I've decided to consolidate this into a single thread in order to keep the board from getting cluttered. I will keep this short and sweet. Basically, if you're holding it right now and you want an audience, go ahead and post in this thread. Mention things such as your level of desperation and provide as many details as you can. While I would prefer all live action stuff to go in this thread, that doesn't mean you are obligated to do it. If you would rather, you could always hold it, do what needs to be done, and then post a separate thread about what happened. This is subject to change as questions and problems arise.
  6. This is fiction based on quite a lot of fact. John had to go to a different town to work, He was 19 and getting on well in his job, but had not yet totally overcome problems that had kept him in diapers until he was 7 or 8 and led to a lot of anxiety and sometimes humiliation in his teen years.His folks arranged for him to stay with a distant relative near his work John had met aunt Mary and her husband Jeff a few times and remembered they had a few kids. As John left home his mum whispered "I had a word with Mary and she said she had a mattress protector on your bed, so you don't need to worry". If this was supposed to be reassuring, anyone seeing John turn bright red with shame would have realised it wast the wrong thing to say.. Two hours later John arrived in the new town and got off the train. He had to take a bus and was going to be met at the bus station in the smaller town where his aunt's family lived.Having misread the directions he got on the right bus, but it was going the wrong way.. He got off as soon as he realised, crossed the road and after while got on the right bus. By now he was aware he needed a toilet, but tried to think of other things. The pressure on is small bladder got worse, but he managed to hold his pee until he reached his stop. Getting off the bus with a heavy suitcase was too big an ask for his control mechanism and he felt a spurt of hot pee run into his jockey shorts. Thankfully he regained control and wasn't too worried because it wasn't the first tome and he had (as usual) worn black pants so that any leakages were not too obvious. He was met by his uncle Jeff and a youth of his own age, Jeff's son Eric. They walked for about half a mile and John was very worried as he could hardly hold his pee. If there had been any opportunity he would have gone behind a bush to relieve himself, but they were walking along a busy high street, and all he could do was hold on as best he could. They arrived at the house and immediately John asked if he could use the toilet. Eric took him upstairs to the bathroom. It was the stairs that were John's undoing. By the time he reached the toilet bowl he was already peeing and fumbled to open his fly before his pants were a total disaster. Deciding to make the best of it John did up his pants and went back downstairs where he was introduced to Eric's younger brothers aged 7 and 10. If John wasn't embarrassed enough already, he went bright red when his Aunt said to him,in front of the family "Your mum told me of your bed time problem, its nothing to worry about and Eric will tell you what to do if it happens". Uncle Jeff said "don't look so worried -you won't be the only one in the house springing a leak, I expect your dad told you it runs in the family". Dinner was going to be on the table in about half an hour and Eric took John up to he room they would be sharing. John unpacked his case and looked at the twin beds. Eric told him which was his and as he sat on it he heard the familiar crinkle of the thick plastic sheet covering the mattress. Eric saw that John had noticed and said "Mines the same" as he sat down and grinned. John asked "do you,,,,,," and Eric replied "Yes quite a lot actually.". John then said "Does your mum mind much?". Eric told him that she didn't make a fuss and that the younger boys had accidents in the day sometimes and it was no big deal. While they had been talking John had been unpacking and was putting his underwear away. He decided that Eric could be trusted and said "I.was bursting by the time we got here" Eric said "I thought you didn't make it quite in time, but didn't mention it downstairs- mum doesn't always realise people can be sensitive". John asked "will she mind" and Eric told him not to worry. and said he would show him what to do. They went to the bathroom and Eric showed John a cupboard that had shelves and on the floor a large bucket with a lid. On the shelves sere piles of underwear and bed sheets. Eric said he had been asked by his mum to suggest that John slept in his underwear rather than pyjamas so as to save having too any thing to wash if he pee'd the bed. He also explained that especially at night the "emergency" underwear in the cupboard was used by anyone who needed it. John asked which underpants he should wear and was told it was best to use the emergency ones which were really "trainer" pants made out of absorbent "diaper" material. Eric said, I wear those a lot,especially at night. John replied that he had had similar ones when he was younger and would feel comfortable in them. Eric announced he needed a pee and pushed down his track suit bottoms. John was busy getting out of his soggy Y fronts and for a moment they glanced at each other. Eric saw the very obvious wetness in John's brand new ,fresh on today shorts, John saw the yellowed front of Eric's white briefs which were in the same state as those he had left behind at home. Their eyes met and both grinned. Eric said "I think we will get along just fine" and giving his equipment a quick shake pulled up his jogging bottoms.
  7. This is fiction based on quite a lot of fact. John had to go to a different town to work, He was 19 and getting on well in his job, but had not yet totally overcome problems that had kept him in diapers until he was 7 or 8 and led to a lot of anxiety and sometimes humiliation in his teen years.His folks arranged for him to stay with a distant relative near his work John had met aunt Mary and her husband Jeff a few times and remembered they had a few kids. As John left home his mum whispered "I had a word with Mary and she said she had a mattress protector on your bed, so you don't need to worry". If this was supposed to be reassuring, anyone seeing John turn bright red with shame would have realised it wast the wrong thing to say.. Two hours later John arrived in the new town and got off the train. He had to take a bus and was going to be met at the bus station in the smaller town where his aunt's family lived.Having misread the directions he got on the right bus, but it was going the wrong way.. He got off as soon as he realised, crossed the road and after while got on the right bus. By now he was aware he needed a toilet, but tried to think of other things. The pressure on is small bladder got worse, but he managed to hold his pee until he reached his stop. Getting off the bus with a heavy suitcase was too big an ask for his control mechanism and he felt a spurt of hot pee run into his jockey shorts. Thankfully he regained control and wasn't too worried because it wasn't the first tome and he had (as usual) worn black pants so that any leakages were not too obvious. He was met by his uncle Jeff and a youth of his own age, Jeff's son Eric. They walked for about half a mile and John was very worried as he could hardly hold his pee. If there had been any opportunity he would have gone behind a bush to relieve himself, but they were walking along a busy high street, and all he could do was hold on as best he could. They arrived at the house and immediately John asked if he could use the toilet. Eric took him upstairs to the bathroom. It was the stairs that were John's undoing. By the time he reached the toilet bowl he was already peeing and fumbled to open his fly before his pants were a total disaster. Deciding to make the best of it John did up his pants and went back downstairs where he was introduced to Eric's younger brothers aged 7 and 10. If John wasn't embarrassed enough already, he went bright red when his Aunt said to him,in front of the family "Your mum told me of your bed time problem, its nothing to worry about and Eric will tell you what to do if it happens". Uncle Jeff said "don't look so worried -you won't be the only one in the house springing a leak, I expect your dad told you it runs in the family". Dinner was going to be on the table in about half an hour and Eric took John up to he room they would be sharing. John unpacked his case and looked at the twin beds. Eric told him which was his and as he sat on it he heard the familiar crinkle of the thick plastic sheet covering the mattress. Eric saw that John had noticed and said "Mines the same" as he sat down and grinned. John asked "do you,,,,,," and Eric replied "Yes quite a lot actually.". John then said "Does your mum mind much?". Eric told him that she didn't make a fuss and that the younger boys had accidents in the day sometimes and it was no big deal. While they had been talking John had been unpacking and was putting his underwear away. He decided that Eric could be trusted and said "I.was bursting by the time we got here" Eric said "I thought you didn't make it quite in time, but didn't mention it downstairs- mum doesn't always realise people can be sensitive". John asked "will she mind" and Eric told him not to worry. and said he would show him what to do. They went to the bathroom and Eric showed John a cupboard that had shelves and on the floor a large bucket with a lid. On the shelves sere piles of underwear and bed sheets. Eric said he had been asked by his mum to suggest that John slept in his underwear rather than pyjamas so as to save having too any thing to wash if he pee'd the bed. He also explained that especially at night the "emergency" underwear in the cupboard was used by anyone who needed it. John asked which underpants he should wear and was told it was best to use the emergency ones which were really "trainer" pants made out of absorbent "diaper" material. Eric said, I wear those a lot,especially at night. John replied that he had had similar ones when he was younger and would feel comfortable in them. Eric announced he needed a pee and pushed down his track suit bottoms. John was busy getting out of his soggy Y fronts and for a moment they glanced at each other. Eric saw the very obvious wetness in John's brand new ,fresh on today shorts, John saw the yellowed front of Eric's white briefs which were in the same state as those he had left behind at home. Their eyes met and both grinned. Eric said "I think we will get along just fine" and giving his equipment a quick shake pulled up his jogging bottoms.
  8. Well I don't know how to start this post so here goes. Just drank 3 bottles of water and I'm off duty for the day. My uniform pants are starting to fit really tight and I'm bouncing around a little already... but I locked the bathroom door and am opening another bottle of water. Please comment and give me some encouragement.
  9. Due to a large snowstorm in the area I am working from home today and having a blast with desperation. I was recently on a conference call and I tried my best but was not able to completely hold all my piss. Here is the current state of my jeans. The day is still young and there is plenty of water to drink. I hope to soon slip my snowsuit over these jeans and head outside for some more wetting fun.
  10. I don't usually do this. In fact I have never down this showing my face. But here we go. I just a new case of M4s, and it has been a YEAR since I've worn. I went through a binge and purge cycle, which I'm sure you know all about. But now I'm getting back into it. I'm thinking of posting these on local Phoenix, AZ Fetlife board. I'm kinda nervous about posting them because I don't have the highest self-esteem, and I'm afraid people will just laugh at me, I really want to meet some like-minded diaper friends and maybe start cuddling with a fellow ABDL (male or female - I consider myself straight and prefer women, but with guys, I'm open to diaper play and cuddling as long as it isn't sexual.) Anyway, please check these out and let me know what you think. I would really appreciate your honest opinions. People often tell me I'm cute, but I don't really believe it. I'm 5'5" and 115lbs in case you were wondering. By the way, sorry my mirror is gross!
  11. So yesterday being Valentine's Day and me being single I decided I was going to have some fun. Now I'm not much of a Valentine's Day person but I use holidays as reasons to have extra fun! i didn't really have much planned out except I knew I wanted to wet and I didn't plan how or when. So I put on some tight jeans and my favorite tight black boxer briefs and hung with some friends. I got back around 1140 and was a little desperate. My friend then asked if I wanted to play an online game so I said sure and grabbed a glass of water. These games usually go for 40 minutes with multiple rounds in one match after the first game I was at about a 6/10 so I grabbed another glass. During the second game i became quickly more desperate and was nearing the cross my legs point. By the end of it I was bursting about 8.5/10 and they wanted to play one more. Mind you that's another 40 minutes I'm comiting to play without pause or being able to get up. So our opponents were really tough and I was not doing good at all. I had drank some more water and was at a 9.5 out of ten. I was getting nervous because i was extremely desperate and as I crossed my legs my waist of my jeans cut into my bladder. I could barely focus on the game and I felt layers of muscles in my stomach feel like they were starting to give. Since I wasn't doing well I made a deal that every time I lived I wouldn't have to drink but every time I died I had to have a sip. I did a lot better with the motivation but still does a good amount. In the second half I became frantic it was so bad. Every sip I felt like I was going to piss myself, and my bladder felt like a brick weighdown trying to escape. Waves were wracking my bladder and each time became harder to hold than the last and I was letting little leaks out. I checked the damage and saw a small wetspot on my jeans. It gradually grew as I continued to leak in my underwear when I lost control all of a sudden. I stiffened up and tried to hold but I starting peeing my pants and felt the warmth creep over my crotch area. There was a huge wet patch covering my whole top thigh area. I died and took another sip and yet again started peeing, this time more forcefully and the other side of my pants got wet. The rest of the match I was on and off peeing in 3 second intervals and felt a little humiliated with my friend on the line even though no one could see me. We finally lost and as I was saying goodbye I couldn't hold it strtsd letting it go as I rushed up to the bathroom. I've never peed so hard in my life and there was a loud hiss sound as the warmth crawled down my legs. I was drenched And the enetire front of my pants were soaked all the way up to my waist. I finished myself off and had one of the best orgasms in my life where you feel the intense pleasure as your whole body relaxes. All in all it was a pretty sweet experience.
  12. Hey guys. I posted this earlier in the wrong place by accident, soooo here's the same three screenshots I took from a wetting I did yesterday, after a few hours of holding. I couldn't post the actual video because the file's too big, but this kind of covers the whole thing lol. Sorry about that old dishrag of a pair of underwear, I don't like wetting in my good pairs. Don't know how many of you are into the male wetting thing, but I hope you enjoy! :)
  13. http://attitude.co.uk/henry-cavill-locked-himself-out-of-hotel-room-naked/ It's a scenario I can well imagine being awkward although there isn't many details :)
  14. I was in kindergarten when I heard that a girl in first grade had wet her pants in school, and that instantly started me fantasizing about the same thing happening to me. I fantasized about it every day in first grade until a warm sunny spring day, which I thought would be a good day for it to happen. At bathroom breaks in the morning I drank lots of water and didn't use the facilities. At lunch I drank lots of water both before and after eating. I think I imagined it being like times when I was 3, and it happened unexpectedly. When I was horribly desperate and still holding on, I realized I'd suffer like that for a long time, and I chickened out. But the teacher asked if I could hold on for a while, and I thought I could, and was afraid of saying otherwise anyway. When we stood to sing I stood there in agony and thought of letting go, since I wanted to wet myself, but I was chicken and at any rate I had wanted to lose control. So I thought unfortunately I'd just have to be in agony for a while and then go to the facilities. But it kept getting worse. Finally I reached a point where I thought it would happen if I didn't run for it. The teacher had said that was allowed if necessary. I didn't have the willpower to do that. And part of me was still thinking it would be fun to have an accident. I thought I would feel my loss of control approaching and be able to decide at the last second whether to run for it. While thinking this through I suddenly felt something that's never happened before or since: I wasn't _yet_ wetting but I felt the loss of control and knew it was going to happen in about five seconds. Then I felt the fluid moving through me, then toward then end of my dick, then finally reaching the top, then flowing out onto the side of my leg. I had wanted it to shoot upward, not sideways. Then it was running down my right leg and I feared it would soak the bottom of my sock, as had sometimes happened when I was three. Then it did that and a pool started forming on the floor. Everyone else was still standing there singing. Then my dick stood straight up and the pee shot upward, just as I'd imagined it, and went above my waist and soaked the lower part of my shirt, then down both legs. And soaked the bottom of both feet and formed two puddles on the floor, which kept expanding. I and thought: that's enough. But I had no control at all and couldn't stop it or slow it down. My pants got completely soaked and it kept on flowing. Some of it fell to the floor between my legs instead of running down the inside of my clothes and made an audible sound of water falling onto a puddle, and the girl standing behind me shrieked and shouted out that I was wetting my pants and everyone fell silent. It still kept flowing. I couldn't even slow it down. I kept going until there was none left. After discussing what had happened for a minute, the teacher ordered my to go finish what I'd started in the bathroom. There was nothing to finish. Going out into the hallway was unthinkable. I didn't budge. But she stood her ground. I obeyed. There wasn't anything left to finish. On the way back I kept thinking the cloth diaper and plastic pants she was about to make me wear would have been useful a few minutes earlier. That didn't happen. No one ever mentioned it to me after that. What started me fantasizing about doing this was hearing about a girl's accident. One fantasy I have is that a girl who saw me do this appreciated it in that way and it got her started fantasizing and led her into a wetting fetish. It would have been nice if the kind of females who populate this site had been the ones who saw me.
  15. male

    A rough draft written in a hurry one night. To be revised later. Comments and critiques encouraged! She was a lovely sight to wake up to. She was reclining in a sensual position near the edge of the bed with her head propped on her elbow. The pose accentuated her hips. The thin cover just barely kept her decent. She was smiling at him with her eyelids slightly narrowed in a sultry expression. It looked like she was waiting for him to wake up and see her. "Good morning," he said as he slowly recovered from his deep sleep. "I have something to tell you." He didn't say anything. His expression was blank and sleepy. "Aren't you going to guess?" she asked. She climbed over the bed until their faces were close. Almost kissing. "It's something personal," she whispered. "Sorry, dear. I'm not good at guessing games." He pulled his face away from hers so he could yawn and stretch. "Not this early." "I'm feeling it now!" she announced. She flashed her sweetheart a naughty grin. "Good for you," he said sleepily. "I don't know what that means." "You don't?" she pouted. Remember last night in bed?" He tried, but it was like trying to see through murky water. They stayed late at their friend's wedding reception. His last memory was the ride home. "I'm sorry," he eventually replied. "I had a lot to drink last night." "You were frisky last night. Don't you remember? Especially when we went to bed. You were getting really lively! I told you to cool it 'cause I wasn't feeling it. And you did. You were a good boy. But you said to make sure to tell you the next time I was feeling it. I'm feeling it now." With those words, she pulled him close in an amorous embrace. "I have something personal to tell you," he whispered when their faces were close. "What is it?" asked the smiling, playful woman. "My bladder's about to explode." She giggled and leaped out of bed. "Race you to the bathroom!" He got up and ran after her but he didn't stand a chance. He was striff and groggy and she had a head start. He had second thoughts about mentioning his painful need for relief because he might've piqued his lover's interest. Every now and then she'd decide to treat his bladder as a plaything. Sometimes it was only a brief tease. Other times it was a domination game that lasted for hours. He didn't know how it would play out today. By the time he got to the bathroom door it was only open a crack. The face of his beloved was peeking out with a mischievous smile. "I won!" "Good for you! Seriously, can I get in? I have to go pretty bad." "You went straight to bed without a potty break last night didn't you?" "I must have." "Next time you'll know better!" she sang as she closed the door. "Seriously, can I come in?" She opened it a crack. "Boys and girls aren't allowed in the same bathroom," she teased. She stuck out her tongue at him and closed the door. "Fine! Be silly like that," he said. He could've sat down but his mind was fixed so eagerly in the thought of using the toilet that he stood outside the door. That didn't mean he stood still. He rocked and squirmed with the pain of his bladder which now seemed twice as stretched as before. She kept teasing him even while he was shut out. Instead of simply sitting down she hopped up onto the toilet seat. She dropped into a crouch and shot out a golden jet with as much force as her body could manage. She wanted him to hear. It hissed and splattered and turned the toilet bowl into rumbling rapids. "Eeoommm!" she moaned with exaggerated relief. "That feels so good! Oh yes! That's just what I needed." "Can you hurry up?" she heard from outside the door. The frustration in his voice came through loud and clear. "It's rude to rush a lady," she said as her stream was losing force. "Please, darling. Be considerate of my feelings." "I could finish up in a second and let you in," she said when her stream had stopped. "Thank you." "Or I could not," she added. Her fullness was gone but there was still a bit left in her bladder. She forced a jet out. A brief tinkling filled the air. After a moment she shot off another one. "You have do be about finished by now. Right?" "Don't rush me. I felt a little something in my tummy. I could have a BM coming on!" "No!" he protested. "Be polite. Let me go potty in peace." She finished emptying her bladder. Then she slowly and deliberately reached for the toilet paper and ripped the last two squares off. Just as slowly and just as deliberately she dabbed her womanhood dry. She lowered herself into a sitting position and waited for the next development. She doubted she would really need to do anything more on the toilet but she sat there anyway. She could hear the sounds of her beloved's bare feet as he paced outside the hall. He was really getting uncomfortable. She just sat there and let him get more uncomfortable. She was beginning to get bored when he called to her again. "Can I come in now?" She pulled up her panties and put down the lid but didn't flush. Soon the couple was talking through the open door. "I'm done usi...!" she started to say in a cheerful voice but she noticed something that made her stop. Her lover had just taken his hands off his tighty-whities and nonchalantly put his arms to his sides when she opened the door. "Were you holding your crotch?" she asked with a giggle. He blushed and nervously mumbled something incomprehensible. "It's all right," she teased. "You can stick your hands in your undies and hold your pee-pee shut if you have to. You can even do the potty dance. I understand little boys have trouble holding their wee-wee in." He got more red and she got more giggly. There wasn't a word exchanged for a moment. He obviously wanted her to let him in the bathroom but didn't know how. After some moments of awkwardness he did something unexpected. He stepped up to the ajar door and kissed his sweetheart. "You're so cute!" he said when he'd finished. "You've still got that girlish mischief in you. It's one of the many things that make you so lovable." He was trying to charm her into letting him urinate. She took it in a different direction. "You're lovable too." She kissed him back. This kiss was longer and more passionate. "Do you still want to make love this morning?" "Yes!" he answered without hesitation. "Then I'd better get clean!" she said. "I'll be in the shower." His smile fell into a frown. His eyes lost their gleam and opened wide with horror. "Can I use the toilet while you use the shower?" he asked breathlessly. He knew the answer. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with that," she said as she shut the door once more. A minute later she got a great idea. A naughty idea. She opened the door all the way. "I'm sorry I teased you," she said. "You're not a little boy." Her almost-naked body embraced his. She could feel the tension in his muscles and the big hard bladder in his abdomen. "You're a big boy," she said in a seductive voice. She twisted around his body and lowered her voice until she was whispering in his ear. "And you know what big boys can do?" "What's that?" asked the amorous man. "Hold it," she answered. Before he knew it his special lady was back inside the bathroom and the door was locked. She spent an hour cleaning herself under the shower-head and preening herself in front of the mirror. That mischievous woman didn't know what state her man would be in when she came out of the bathroom again. Maybe he would've used a jar to relieve himself. Or the bathroom at the convenience store down the block. Or maybe he'd be perfectly composed because he wanted to show how good his control was. Maybe he was waiting to force his way to the toilet the second the lock clicked. She opened the door and casually strolled out wearing only a towel. She grinned a diabolical grin when she saw him. A special womanly thrill passed through her body as she took in the sight of her strong masculine lover reduced to a little boy. He still hadn't gotten dressed or left the sight of the bathroom door. He was sitting in a chair in the next room with his legs tightly crossed. He carefully uncrossed his legs and slowly stood up. As soon as he was out of the chair he was clutching the manly bulge in his underwear and his legs were twirling his body back and forth in an impatient squirm. He wasn't even trying to hide his desperation. He looked like he could have an accident at any second. "Please!" he said. It was sort of an immature whine and sort of a desperate cry. "Soon," said the still-smiling woman. "Stand up straight like a man!" He straightened his legs and stood as tall as he could. He took one hand off his groin but hesitated with the other. "Hands on your sides!" she ordered. He obeyed. Her eyes got big. There was a spot on the front of his underwear. The white cotton was dark and yellow right where it bulged in the front. "Uh-oh! Having a little trouble there?" He said nothing. The only thing she got from him was red cheeks. "Hold still." She walked up to him and took him by the arms. "Keep holding," she said as she started to pull him downward. He winced and made a half-hearted try to stop her. "Spread your legs," she said. "Come down to my eye-level." He complied. The wet spot got bigger. Soon a little liquid was making it out of the underwear. His legs splayed wider and his body sank lower until the lovers were face-to-face. Little trickles made their way down his hairy legs. Little droplets dripped on the wooden floor. She looked into his eyes. They looked innocent. Vulnerable. That excited her more. "Are we done here?" he squeaked. "This has gone pretty far. Even for one of your teasing sessions." "I'm done." She held him in place as she kissed him long and hard. He fought it at first but gave into the sweetness. He put so much attention into that kiss he relaxed the hold on his bladder. The trickling and pitter-patting accelerated. When the two sets of loving lips finally parted there was a little puddle on the floor. "I'd like to go now," he said. She still held him tight. He was still in a painful position. "Wouldn't you like to go right here?" He was silent. She pointed to the saturated front of his underwear and then to the tiny pond beneath him. "You already started. Wouldn't you like to finish? Wouldn't you like to let everything go and bask in the sensation of relief? Wouldn't that just be great?" He closed his eyes and nodded. She let go of her sweetheart. He wobbled for a moment and fell backwards. He ended up sitting on his bottom with his hands holding him half-way upright and his half-bent legs jutting forward. The dark spot on his tighty-whities turned a glistening yellow as it became overwhelmed with liquid. It evacuated the waterlogged fabric in two streams that soon fused into a single violent waterfall. It was coming faster and faster and hitting the wood harder and harder. The new pool on the floor soon grew large enough to engulf the first one. She watched her lover's on-purpose accident with unrestrained glee. He threw his head back and groaned with relief. It changed the position of his body. The downward rush of a waterfall became the upward spurt of a geyser. It flowed out at that angle for some time before the dwindling pressure changed its course. When he sat up the eruption turned into an outward flow. He was now in the middle of a gleaming golden lake. His sweetheart had been crouching in front of the bathroom door staring wordlessly at the spectacle the entire time. Now that the flow had ebbed she stood up and walked over to him. She held out her arms and strained to pull her muscular man up to an upright position. Soon they were both standing. He was dripping furiously. "Put your foot up." He obliged and she whipped off her towel and laid it on the puddle. He put it back down on the towel. "Now put the other one up," she said. When he did she unfolded the towel to catch the rest of the wet mess. "Now hold still." With no other warning she pulled his soggy underwear down to his feet. Now they were both completely naked. "I'm feeling it right now," she said with a sultry smile. "And I don't mind a wet bed."
  16. male

    This was a request from Pain, who gave me the prompt for the story, but I thought I’d post it here as well. I did originally write the whole thing as a oneshot, but because it was so long, I thought it would be better to post it in multiple parts. Note: this takes place in the early 1960’s, because I love that era. Keep in mind I wasn’t alive back then, so I may not get everything right. Away we go! * * * The morning sunlight streamed through the skylight window, gently stroking Dylan’s cheek as the boy roused from sleep. Dylan frowned as he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. His bed was too comfortable. His pyjamas were too clean. And most puzzling of all: this wasn’t his room. It was much too nice. The walls were a rich light blue, the floor a gleaming hardwood, and the large room was decorated with exquisite marble furniture. It was only after a few seconds when the fog of sleepiness dissolved away that it all clicked together. That’s right. This was his room. He was going to live here! Infused with energy, eight-year-old Dylan skipped out of bed, admiring his new home. He peered out the skylight, where he could see clouds in the bright blue sky, as well as tree canopies surrounding the window frame. He couldn’t believe he was having the privilege of living here. It was like a palace! He brought his hand to his arm to pinch himself, but then stopped. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. “Dylan! Are you awake, love?” Dylan was snapped out of his daze by the sound of the woman’s voice. He had been so entranced by this beauty of his bedroom that he’d almost forgotten that it was attached to other rooms, which were probably just as, if not more, lovely as this one. Suddenly dying to explore the rest of the house, Dylan burst out of the room, not noticing that he’d brushed right past the woman who was knocking on the door. Dylan could tell right away that this was a mansion. The hallway was wide and had numerous doors on both sides, hosting a variety of mysterious rooms. Dylan thought he’d best find a bathroom before he did any exploring; after all, he hadn’t gone since last night. However, before he could even begin trying all these sets of doors, Dylan felt something tug on his arm, and he turned to see a young woman smiling at him. “Whoa there!” She laughed, letting go of his arm. “Don’t go running off on us now.” She had apple cheeks and curly black hair, which was up in a bun. She was dressed in a black dress with a loose-fitting white apron and headpiece. Dylan stared her, blinking. “Oh, that’s right,” she said. “Your parents didn’t have a chance to introduce me last night. I’m Theresa, the servant housemaid. Anything you need, you just let me know, okay love?” Dylan nodded. She smiled. “Good. Now let’s go downstairs, there’s a big, healthy breakfast waiting in the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Bradwell are down there too, they’ll be very happy to see you. They’ve got a big day planned for today, I think.” She took Dylan’s hand and led the boy towards the grand staircase. They reached the main foyer, which had black and white checkered floor tiles, and a grand piano off to the side by the curtains. “Mrs. Bradwell, she’s a wonderful pianist,” Theresa said, noticing Dylan’s eyes on the large instrument. They walked through the archway towards the kitchen, and Dylan suddenly felt something soft brush against his leg. He looked down and saw what appeared to be a giant white ball of fuzz. It was only when he heard a meow and saw two green eyes looking up at him curiously that he realized what it was. “Hello Goldine,” Theresa said, reaching down to pet the cat. She then turned to Dylan. “Go on, love, give her a stroke, she really likes that.” Hesitantly, Dylan brought his hand down towards Goldine’s pristine white coat and began to stroke it. The cat purred, relishing the warm and gentle feel of Dylan’s fingers against her fur, and nuzzled up to Dylan’s leg. Dylan jumped, not used to this kind of reaction. Theresa chuckled. “Don’t worry love, that just means she likes you. She’s very sweet. You two will be good friends, I think.” After getting over the initial shock, Dylan slowly began to caress the cat again, realizing how nice and therapeutic it felt. Maybe Theresa was right. Maybe they could be good friends. After all, it would be nice to have a silent companion, someone who didn’t insist on talking all the time. To him, words were meaningless. He never used them unless it was an emergency. Over the years he had taught himself to repress his entire vocabulary, and it had been effective, at least with Carolynne. It wasn't a choice he had made; it was simply the way he had to be. “Come along, then,” Theresa said. “I can see she wants some breakfast too. Don’t you, Goldine?” The cat purred. They entered the kitchen, and the first thing Dylan saw was a bountiful bouquet laid out on the table. His eyes widened. He’d never seen so much food. There were Belgian waffles, hard boiled eggs, sizzling sausages and bacon, a tray of warm chocolate chip cookies, a large bowl filled to the top with fresh colourful fruits, and a loaf of white bread. Dylan’s stomach growled. “Mmm, I think somebody’s hungry.” Dylan turned to see another woman, with wavy red hair and soft green eyes, sitting at the table smiling at him. She was dressed in a nightgown and lilac robe, and was sipping a cup of coffee. “Come here, darling, give your mommy a kiss.” Dylan slowly made his way to the table, still eyeing the seemingly endless quantity of food. He went towards the woman’s open arms and sank into her embrace, surprised at the warmth and softness that arose from the contact. She tapped the side of her face, and Dylan planted a shy kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Oh, he’s a darling!” the woman squealed. Theresa smiled. “Where’s your husband, ma’am?” “Out fetching the paper,” she replied, stroking Dylan’s hair. “Now Dylan, I don’t think we had a chance to talk much last night. You were so sleepy when we brought you home. But my name’s Ilana. You can call me that if you’d like, or you can call me Mom, which is my personal preference. You can also call me Mrs. Bradwell, or Ila, or whatever you want! I don’t care. I’m just so happy we finally have a little boy of our own.” She kissed the top of his head. Theresa chuckled. “Come now, I think we should let the young man have something to eat. He must be starving.” “Oh, that’s right!” Ilana said. “Why, look at him, he’s so skinny. No child of mine will be as thin as a rail! We’re going to have to make him nice and plump, like a little chick. Go on, then, my boy. Eat, eat all you want. You’re going to need lots of nourishment for the day we’ve got planned today.” Theresa laid a hand on his back, gently pushing him towards an empty chair. She served him a plate, and Dylan picked up his fork, his mouth watering. He didn’t even know where to start! Everything looked amazing. Finally picking out the reddest strawberry he’d ever seen, he was just about to bring the fruit to his lips, when he suddenly heard heavy footsteps padding into the room. Everybody turned towards the doorway, where a tall, serious-looking man stood, holding a newspaper. “Good morning, Mr. Bradwell,” Theresa said, smiling. Her body was tense. Her smile didn’t look so pleasing and natural this time, Dylan noticed. It almost seemed … forced. “Morning,” the man said stiffly. He suddenly locked eyes with Dylan, and the boy shrank a bit, suddenly feeling shaky. “Ah,” the man said. “So he’s awake. Come here, boy, let your father get a good look at you.” Dylan got up, and Theresa gently put a hand on his back again, guiding him towards the man. There was a sudden silence in the room, and it felt very off-putting. Dylan didn’t like it. “Well then,” the man said, with his deep, commanding voice. “You’re going to be a Bradwell now, Dylan. I hope you realize how important that is.” The man towered over the small boy; Dylan had to crane his head up to see his eyes. “Do you have any questions, or perhaps… concerns?” His voice dropped slightly in volume at the last word. Dylan quickly shook his head. “Good. Welcome to the household, then, Dylan.” The man outstretched his hand, and Dylan shook it. The man’s grip was quite strong, almost snake-like, and Dylan couldn’t even feel his hand anymore, trapped in the colossal mass of muscles and fibers that was the older man’s hand. Finally, the man released Dylan, and looked him over briefly before nodding. “Well, I suppose that will do. Go and have your breakfast. We’ll leave shortly.” Relieved, Dylan sat down again and began to eat. It was delicious. The best food he’d had in years. Everything tasted like it was made in heaven! However, the taste of the syrup-covered waffles soured slightly when he heard the man whispering to his wife. “Why doesn’t the boy talk, Ilana?” “Neil, we’ve been over this. It hasn’t been easy for him, poor thing. No father and an abusive mother, how do you think he’s going to adjust? We’re lucky he’s not a psychopath.” “Still, that’s not normal! Have you ever seen a child behave like that? He doesn’t say a word!” “Neil, you promised. Having not been blessed with a child of our own, this is the next best thing. I think he’s wonderful.” Neil sighed and shook his head. “You think a lot of things, Ilana.” Having noticed Dylan’s focus shift from his breakfast to the conversation between his foster parents, Theresa laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, nervously clearing her throat. “Go on, child, have something to eat. You don’t want your food growing cold.” Dylan picked up his fork and resumed eating, although his mind was still half-focused on the conversation. “Would you like something to drink, love?” Theresa asked, holding a jug of freshly-squeezed orange juice. “Some juice, perhaps?” Dylan suddenly stiffened. The sight of orange juice brought forth an unpleasant reminder. He hadn’t used the bathroom today. His bladder gave a slight twitch, the liquid inside pushing to get out. Dylan mentally kicked himself for not using the bathroom after he’d woken up. Now he was in no position to ask. No matter, he thought. He would simply have to wait until after breakfast, and hopefully he’d get a chance to go then. It was nothing major. Many times, he’d been forced to hold it for hours when Carolynne had locked him in his room. He was used to it. Dylan nodded politely to Theresa, who smiled and poured him the juice. Despite his now distracting urge to urinate, Dylan couldn’t deny that his thirst was more important, so he took a few big gulps, finishing the entire glass in a manner of seconds. He smiled and licked his lips, a bright orange moustache crowning his mouth. “We’ve got a big day planned for today, Dylan,” Ilana said excitedly. Dylan suddenly noticed that Neil had disappeared, and the general atmosphere was indeed calmer again. “We’re going to go downtown. It’ll be so much fun! We live in the uptown residential district, so going down there is always a real treat. You’re going to love it!” “He certainly does look excited,” Theresa remarked. “Look, his eyes lit up!” It was true. Dylan had never been to a big city before. With Carolynne, he had lived in a small, dirty apartment in a poor, rat-infested lot. It was dangerous for him to step outside to go to school, let alone explore the town. “Aww, my little guy,” Ilana gushed. She gave Dylan another kiss. Dylan grimaced. Despite everything, he still had his childlike instincts, and getting bathed in kisses was not his cup of tea. Theresa chuckled. “I think you’re smothering him, dear.” Ilana blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. I’m just so happy. We’ve always wanted a child, you know. All these years, we’ve had only Goldine to keep us company.” “Don’t forget me, ma’am,” Theresa added, looking slightly hurt. “Oh, of course. How could I? And you, Theresa.” Theresa beamed. Neil poked his head in through the door. “Hey, enough yakking in there! Are you going to finish eating that breakfast or not? We haven’t got all day!” He left the room again. Ilana rolled her eyes. “So impatient. I guess we’d better do what he says.” She turned to Dylan, patting his hand. “Finish up, darling, there’ll be plenty more where that came from.” Dylan nodded and returned to his breakfast, now eating twice as fast. Theresa offered him another glass of orange juice, which he politely accepted, despite his thirst being taken care of. He only drank about half of it, not wanting to make his bladder any fuller. After finishing the last morsel of his breakfast, Dylan gave a little burp and daintily wiped himself with a napkin. It was by far the best breakfast he’d had in years. However, while his appetite had certainly been more than satiated, his bulging stomach reminded him that there was still another important manner he had to take care of. His bladder was getting quite impatient now, reminding him constantly that he had to go. And while it hadn’t yet gotten to the point where he was absolutely desperate, it was getting to be a real nuisance, and Dylan was longing to release all that foul liquid inside him. Besides, he felt somewhat embarrassed to be around his potential new family while being in this state. Surely it wasn’t proper for a young upper-class boy to walk around his parents like that! With Carolynne, sure, but that was another story. “Come, Dylan, let’s get you dressed,” Theresa said, taking Dylan’s hand. The boy followed her back upstairs to his bedroom, slightly disappointed that he wasn’t given a chance to go off on his own, since it would have been much easier to sneak off to the bathroom then. He tried not to worry; he would just have to wait a few more minutes until Theresa finished dressing him, then he’d go and use the bathroom. “Now, let’s see here,” Theresa murmured, ruffling through the various expensive clothes that lined the oakwood closet. “Aha!” She pulled out a beige suit, then turned to Dylan again. “Hold still, now.” She stripped off Dylan’s pyjama pants, neatly laying them on his bed, then reached for his shirt. Dylan’s eyes widened. He shook his head quickly as he gripped his shirt, not wanting her to remove an inch of it. “What’s the matter?” Theresa frowned. Dylan bit his lip; he couldn’t let her see what was underneath, it was too shameful and disturbing. But she somehow managed to swat his hands away, and pulled the shirt off against Dylan’s will. She gasped. “Oh, Dylan…” There were scars everywhere, blood red and searing, cutting into his body like razorblades. Tears filled Theresa’s eyes. Dylan looked at the ground. “Ilana told me what your mother did to you,” Theresa said, softly. “Unbelievable. You’re the sweetest and most adorable boy I’ve ever met, how could she possibly treat you like that? Of course, it’s despicable that anyone would do that to a child, but a child as cute and innocent as you!” It was true. Despite being somewhat scrawny, Dylan had always been a beautiful boy. His rosy cheeks, light blonde hair and clear blue eyes had earned him numerous affectionate glances and loving smiles from adults. All except Carolynne, who would always look at him with either scorn or disgust. She’d used to be quite beautiful herself, until she started smoking and drinking and became a wreck. Dylan shook his head. He had to stop thinking about her. She was gone now. This was his new life. Theresa sighed and shook her head, trying to re-compose herself. “Right, then. Let’s get your socks off.” Dylan slipped off his socks, leaving him in just his blue briefs; he was relieved Theresa didn’t ask him to remove those as well. She dressed him in his new outfit, a pair of shorts with a shirt and blazer, then slipped on his socks and shoes—a pair of sleek brown oxfords. Dylan squirmed. Although he certainly felt very elegant in his new attire, the belt on his shorts was pressing painfully on his bladder, and he was becoming very anxious to relieve it. As if Theresa could detect the distress in Dylan’s eyes, she suddenly said, “There we go, all dressed! My, you look quite handsome, Dylan! Let’s go to the bathroom to put on the finishing touches.” Hearing the word bathroom made Dylan twitch with ecstasy. Finally, he would have his relief! He followed Theresa towards the luxurious-looking private bathroom, trying to ignore the nagging pain in his bladder. What did it matter now, he was going to the bathroom anyway! Theresa followed him in and placed him in front of the mirror. She brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and even dabbed some cologne on him. All the while, Dylan couldn’t stop glancing longingly at the toilet that was only a few feet away. He was almost tempted to break his vow of silence and ask Theresa to let him use it, but he decided to be patient. He could hold a little bit longer. Just a little bit. Finally, after gelling Dylan’s hair, Theresa was done. She inspected her work proudly. “Ah, now you are a real gentleman. No need to thank me, it was my pleasure! Well, I suppose that will do for now. I must head back to the kitchen now, Dylan, those dishes aren’t going to clean themselves! Oh, I’ve got a lot of work to do today…” Humming cheerfully to herself, Theresa disappeared into the hallway. Dylan practically tripped over himself in his rush to the toilet. However, just as he began to fiddle with his belt, he suddenly heard voices calling from downstairs. “Dylan, honey, let’s go!” It was Ilana. “Come on, now! We’re going to miss the streetcar!” Neil shouted. Dylan froze. Just as soon as she had gone out, Theresa rushed back in and grabbed Dylan’s arm. Dylan realized he had forgotten to shut the door and mentally kicked himself again. “Come on, we don’t want to keep them waiting,” Theresa said, pulling the boy out of the bathroom and leading him down the stairs. Dylan whimpered. He had been so close. So, so close. Now he didn’t know what to do. The pressure in his bladder was too strong to ignore anymore, but now there was also the pressure coming from his new parents, who were waiting for him downstairs. It was a real dilemma. “Here he is!” Theresa said as they arrived at the front entrance. “Hmm, took you long enough,” Neil grumbled. “I’m sorry,” Theresa apologized. “I was just trying to make him look nice. I guess I went a bit overboard.” “Well, I think he looks charming,” Ilana smiled. They looked quite nice themselves. Ilana wore a floral sundress and pearl necklace, her purse slung around her shoulder, and Neil was dressed in a proper suit, hat, and cane. He checked his watch. “The streetcar is leaving in five minutes. We have to go, now.” Ilana rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right. Say goodbye to Theresa, Dylan.” Dylan, who was already being dragged out the door by Neil, waved goodbye to the friendly housemaid, who smiled and waved back. “Bye Dylan! Have fun!” Goldine had stalked into the room and was now resting beside Theresa’s right leg. She meowed, as if also wishing Dylan goodbye. "I told you we should have taken the car!" Ilana said to Neil as the three of them ran to the tram station to catch the streetcar. Neil was the only one who managed to do this comfortably, since Ilana was wearing heels and Dylan’s bladder was too full for him to run around painlessly. He could feel all the liquid sloshing around inside, and he moaned quietly, putting a hand to his stomach. Even so, he couldn’t help noticing that they lived in a really nice neighbourhood. All the houses were tall and impressive, with perfectly kept yards and clean streets. He supposed this was what all rich neighbourhoods must look like, but nevertheless it was surprising for him, given his upbringing. They finally made it to the station, and Dylan looked longingly at the public washrooms inside the crowded building. He was starting to think he had made a terrible mistake by not using the bathroom before they left. Now he didn’t know what he was going to do. He had no idea how long they were going to be out for, and if he would be able to hold it until they got home. But holding it was his only choice now, so reluctantly Dylan stepped onto the streetcar with Ilana and Neil, hoping things would be all right.
  17. Had been holding a while. On verge of real accident. Picture of underwear aftermath too. IMG_0638.MOV
  18. I'm not into male stuff, but I saw the hilarious drink making challenge today and some of you will love it! The challenge is self-explanatory, dude urinates and makes a 'slushie' or basically icy snack/drink then suffers an adverse reaction to imbibing it, all entirely caught on camera (including the urination with censor bars where needed).
  19. Found another video on tumblr that I haven't seen here before! is the link to the blog. :) tumblr_okylioMWw31s0xkm6.mp4 tumblr_okylioMWw31s0xkm6.mp4
  20. Okay guys, here's my thread :D I know that a lot of people want to see more bulges, myself included, so here's a thread for exactly that. I'll try and upload my own photos once or twice a week, in different outfits and the like :) Also, everyone is welcome, male, female, anyone :) (Even cats, Rini) Rules of this thread; Feel free to post your own bulges; the more the merrier! However, please refrain from uploading photos you've found on the internet. I'm trying to encourage participation from the members on the site, so yeah. Anyway, to start our ball rolling, here's a photo I took a few days ago. Please enjoy my thread! xo Kay
  21. *Name a topic and I will write about it. It can be something as simple as "at the zoo" or you can give boundaries like "accidental wetting at the end" or the "the story starts at 6 am". Rules for me: No messing or diapers. Feel free to do something super random! I promise I won't judge.* Suggestions start now!
  22. male

    This semester is kicking my ass, y'all. I don't know when I'm going to get the chance to write again (or even have the mental space to think up scenarios!), but I managed to get this one out of my mind and into a word document. Hope you're all having a great February! *** Will yelped, and Charlie reached down absent-mindedly to rub his younger brother’s head. The boy gurgled happily, while their mother, Jamie, rifled through the clearance racks. Will leaned into Charlie’s hand, humming. Keeping his brother calm and happy was second nature to Charlie by now. Born when Charlie was 7, Will had been strangled with the umbilical cord during labor, depriving his brain of oxygen and leaving him with severe physical and intellectual disabilities. Now 8 years old, Will was unable to speak or walk on his own and required round-the-clock caregiving. So when Jamie needed to buy new clothes for the boys, the only viable option was bringing both of them with her. Charlie had grown enough that Jamie wanted him there to try things on, and the boys’ dad, Troy, was at work, so he couldn’t stay at home with Will. Charlie didn’t mind, of course. He loved his brother. Things were definitely more challenging with Will’s unpredictable medical and emotional needs, but even as a second grader, Charlie had easily adapted to the role of protective older brother, helping around the house and never seeming to mind when the family’s plans had to revolve around Will’s needs (which they often did). Over the past 8 years, Charlie had developed an uncanny ability to make Will laugh or calm him when he was upset better than anyone, even Jamie. So Charlie had stayed close to his brother’s side, pushing Will’s wheelchair and entertaining the kid while Jamie picked out clothes. Charlie wasn’t exactly picky about what he wore – or really much of anything, preferring to be as unobtrusive as possible – and Jamie had the natural shopping efficiency borne of motherhood, but everything took longer with Will involved. The mall itself was 20 minutes away, and loading Will’s wheelchair into the van was no quick task. Not wanting to have to make multiple trips, Jamie insisted on getting everything in on go. That meant not only new school clothes for Charlie, but also work pants for Troy, yoga pants for herself, and new shoes for Will, which was a delicate process, to say the least. It had already been nearly 3 hours since they’d left the house. Charlie shifted back and forth as Jamie pulled a t-shirt off the rack and held it up to check the price. He’d had to pee for at least the last hour and now, the need was intense enough that he decided he didn’t want to risk waiting until they got home. “Hey, Mom?” “Mmmm?” Jamie held the t-shirt next to Will, sizing it up. “Can I-“ But Charlie was cut off by another screech from Will. “Charlie, honey, can you…” Jamie trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish her sentence. Charlie was already rocking Will’s chair back and forth and humming his brother’s favorite song. “Thanks, sweetie,” Jamie smiled at her older son. “I think we’re almost done. I’m just gonna check out, and then we can head home.” Charlie clenched his abs slightly. He really had to pee, but he decided it would be better to wait until after Jamie paid for the latest clothes to try to ask again. He gathered the bags from their previous purchases and pushed Will behind Jamie, following her to the register. After paying for the clothes, Jamie led her sons back out into the mall. She turned left, to head back toward the car. Knowing that the bathrooms were in the opposite direction, Charlie slowed. “Hey, Mom?” he asked again. Jamie turned. “Yeah, sweetie?” “Can you hang on a sec? I need to-“ But Charlie was cut off again, this time by a choking noise from Will. Jamie and Charlie instantly turned toward the little boy, whose eyes were rolling back in his head. “Charlie!” Jamie’s cry was automatic, the single name containing a call to action that Charlie had heard hundreds of times before. He was already moving, gently taking Will’s hand and staring at his watch to keep the time. Jamie had dropped the shopping bags and was digging through the supply bag she kept on Will’s wheelchair. She pulled out the vial of midazolam and held it ready. Will’s limbs were jerking in a grand mal seizure, his head lolling to the side. Jamie locked the brakes on his wheelchair so he didn’t slide. She crouched down next to Will and looked across the wheelchair tray at Charlie. “Seventy-eight seconds,” Charlie replied without being asked, indicating the current length of Will’s seizure. Jamie nodded and stroked the side of Will’s face. “You’re doing great, baby,” she murmured to her younger son. Charlie kept one eye on his watch. Will’s seizure protocol dictated that the midazolam only be administered if the seizure lasted longer than five minutes. As the second hand crept on, nearing 3 minutes of kept time, Charlie felt an alarming surge from his bladder. He shifted his posture so that his thighs were pressing together. Time worked funny when Will had a seizure. Every second seemed to stretch infinitely, yet the more dangerous threshold of five minutes approached with alarming rapidity. Of course, his long-delayed need to use the bathroom only compounded the matter. The mall wasn’t too crowded, but a few people did walk by, staring. Most just kept moving, but Jamie gave a look of thanks-but-we’ve-got-this to the few that looked like they might stop and ask to help. “Time?” Jamie asked Charlie, steady but urgent. “Almost four minutes,” Charlie answered. “Come on baby, come back,” Jamie encouraged, squeezing Will’s hand. Will’s body jerked severely, rattling the sides of the wheelchair. Charlie stumbled sideways, dropping his hand to steady himself. He winced slightly as he righted himself, checking the time on his watch. “You OK, hon?” Charlie nodded in response, hoping his face wasn’t too red, betraying the wet spot of urine that he’d just leaked into his underwear. “Twenty more seconds,” he reported. Jamie sighed, preparing the vial of medicine. They both knew that if Will’s seizure last longer than 2 and a half minutes, it was likely to last longer than five. A few seconds later, Charlie signaled his mother, who pulled open Will’s lower lip to insert the medicine between the child’s cheek and gums. The medicine worked quickly, and Will’s convulsions slowed. After one final twitch, Jamie called for time again. “Five minutes, 28 seconds,” Charlie replied. “OK. Remember that for when we get home so I can mark it down,” Jamie ordered. She wiped a string of drool from Will’s chin. The younger boy was pale and sweaty. After a few more minutes of sitting to let everyone catch their breath and make sure Will didn’t have an residual attacks, Jamie hauled herself to her feet. “Come on, boys,” she said, picking up her dropped shopping bags. “Let’s get home so I can put Will down for a nap.” Drowsiness was a side effect of the medication, so Will would always sleep after a long seizure. Charlie pushed himself to standing, biting the inside of his lower lip. He had to pee so badly, but there was no way he could leave his mom alone with Will now. They just had to get home. Will whined pitifully, and Charlie cupped the side of his brother’s face affectionately. Will didn’t speak, but it was fairly easy to tell if he was happy or sad, and seizures never ceased to exhaust him. The car seemed unaccountably far away, even taking into account the accessible parking space. Charlie started to wheel his brother to the side of the van, but was stopped by Jamie. “I’m going to change him,” Jamie explained, opening the back hatch. “I don’t want him sitting in it until we get home.” Charlie could’ve cried. He was already reasonably certain he wasn’t going to make it home dry – after his previous leak, he wasn’t even dry now – but having to help change his brother’s diaper almost certainly was going to make his own situation worse. Still, Charlie parked Will’s chair behind the van and leaned down to start unbuckling his brother. Will wasn’t too heavy, but it was always safer to move him with two people, especially when they weren’t at home. Jamie smoothed out a changing pad and pulled a clean diaper from the supply bag. Then she turned and lifted Will from his chair to lay him in the back of the van, with Charlie staying close to guide him. Charlie hadn’t quite hit his full growth spurt yet, so he was still small and skinny, but he’d been helping with his brother for years, and Jamie trusted him. At the moment, however, Charlie didn’t trust himself. He felt on the very edge of losing control and peeing everywhere. As much as he wanted to assist his mother, his attention was naturally taken with keeping from completely disgracing himself. Charlie didn’t exactly have a ton of experience around infants, but he was sure that changing Will’s diaper was a much lengthier process. Jamie was practiced, but Will’s limbs were uncooperative, and even undersized 8-year-olds were harder to move around than babies. Charlie couldn’t help twisting his hips, trusting that Jamie’s focus was entirely on his brother. He felt another leak, but still didn’t risk holding himself. He had to keep his hands free in case Jamie needed him. Jamie slid Will’s sweats back over his hips, and Charlie automatically reached forward to help her transfer the boy back to his chair. Will was still listless and pale, but he smiled slightly when Charlie strapped him into his chair. Charlie managed to smile back, even though the movements and crouching were deadly to his control. After he repositioned Will’s tray, Charlie glanced down. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could see a stain at his crotch. He closed his eyes and re-clenched his sphincter. Jamie was already on the side of the van, maneuvering the mechanical lift. When the platform was safely on the ground, Charlie wheeled Will’s chair forward and locked the wheels in place. He stood close to the chair, hoping that Jamie couldn’t see the possible wetness on his pants. Charlie got busy locking Will’s chair in place in the van. Jamie shut the side door and walked around to the driver’s side, leaving Charlie to finish bucking Will before settling himself into the seat behind Jamie. “Everything set back there?” Jamie called. “Yeah, we’re good,” Charlie lied. He’d buckled Will in perfectly, but as soon as he sat down, he’d shoved his hand between his legs, cutting of the most recent leak. His tight grip was literally the only thing keeping him from wetting himself, though the fabric of his jeans was substantially damp beneath his palm. He was tired. Almost certainly not as tired as Will, of course, but Charlie’s own adrenaline crash left him shaking, but he couldn’t afford to relax. So instead of physical relief, Charlie’s weariness sublimated into consuming embarrassment and self-revulsion. He felt so stupid! How could he have let himself get into this situation? He was supposed to be the one who wasn’t any trouble, who could take care of himself. That was literally his one job as a son, to make sure his parents didn’t have to worry about him. And here he sat, 15 years old and on the verge of having an accident all over the car. Another spurt soaked into Charlie’s pants. He tried not to squirm and draw attention to himself, but his desperation was overtaking his entire body. He felt his control slipping, but refused to give up entirely. The car ride was silent. Jamie hadn’t bothered to turn on the radio, and even Will wasn’t making any humming or gurgling noises. And all the while, Charlie was gripping himself til his hand was numb, but it wasn’t enough to stop the leaking. Soon, a large stain spread across his lap, soaking toward his knees. Charlie shuddered and pressed his legs together with each leak. He knew his pants were a lost cause, but he was doing all he could to keep from making a mess of the car seat. As Jamie steered the car onto their street, Charlie hung his head in anticipation of having his mom find out what he’d done. He fought back tears, briefly wondering how he could have leaked so much, but still have to go so badly. Charlie barely noticed when Jamie pulled into the garage. He felt his lower lip trembling as she parked the car and walked around to open the side door. He didn’t move even when she started fiddling with the lift mechanism. “Hey, honey, can you unlock Will’s chair, please?” Jamie requested. Charlie blinked back tears. “Mom,” he choked, his voice trembling noticeably. Jamie’s head jerked up at the sound of her elder son’s distress. He didn’t make eye contact, but the dome light illuminated the incriminating darkness in his lap. “Oh, Charlie,” she murmured, stunned and pitying the teen. Charlie’s stomach dropped even further. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing his mother. “I-“ he started to apologize, but couldn’t get the words out. “It’s OK, honey,” Jamie assured him. “Just go change.” “But…” Charlie looked in Will’s direction, still unable to say anything else. “I got him, honey,” Jamie said softly. “It’s OK, I promise.” Charlie hesitated, but he still really had to go, so he finally unbuckled his own seatbelt and scrambled out his side door and into the house. There was a bathroom closer to the garage, but Charlie was compelled to the back of the house, to the bathroom by his bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, still clutching between his legs. He turned to the toilet, but he couldn’t move his hand long enough to unzip his pants. Wriggling frantically, Charlie finally sat down on the toilet in defeat, peeing through his pants. The feeling of more hot liquid soaking into his jeans felt awful, and he felt a tear slip down his cheek, but at least he wasn’t making a mess on the floor to be cleaned up. The odd, uneven sound of urine dripping into the toilet only served to deepen his mortification. Finally empty, Charlie stood and peeled of his clinging pants and underwear. Disgusted at the feeling of piss on his legs, he decided to shower before taking his soiled clothes to the washing machine. He showered quickly and could hear Jamie coming out of Will’s room after putting him to bed. Charlie hesitated before leaving the bathroom, not wanting to walk past his mom holding his wet clothes. She knew, of course, but Charlie really didn’t feel like being explicitly reminded of his humiliating failure. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Charlie peeked out into the hallway. It was clear, so he snuck out to the laundry room, threw his pants into the washing machine, and hurried back to his room to change. Sighing, Charlie sat on his bed for a moment, trying to quell the lingering shudders that wracked his body. He wanted to hide forever, but…he had to help get dinner ready. It was something he always did. His mom would be expecting it. The hallway was quiet; Will was asleep, and Charlie couldn’t hear Jamie. Part of him hoped that she was in the office, paying bills or something. Cautiously, he turned into the kitchen. “Hey, honey.” Jamie was sitting at the island bar, a glass of wine in front of her. Charlie teared up almost instantly. “I’m…” he stammered. “I’m sorry.” “Oh, Charlie,” Jamie hopped off the stool and wrapped her elder son in a hug. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” “I-“ Charlie was crying for real now. He hated what he did, he hated himself. He would’ve done anything to take back the events of the afternoon. “I s-shouldn’t h-have…” “Shhh,” Jamie soothed, rubbing his back. “Sweetheart, it’s OK. You just had an accident, that’s all.” Charlie let out a pained sob. He shouldn’t have had an accident. He should’ve been better, he should’ve been able to hold it. Jamie didn’t know what else to say, so she just held her son tightly for a few minutes. Sniffling, Charlie eventually got his breathing under control enough to speak, to explain himself. “I s-shouldn’t have peed my p-pants. I had to go and I wanted to, but Will n-needed me, and then he had a seizure, and I c-couldn’t…” He trailed off again, overcome with shame. Jamie frowned in pity. She guided him over to the bar stools to sit down. “Baby, I wish I could tell you that you don’t have to worry about taking care of your brother or that his needs will never interfere with yours, but we both know that’s not true.” Charlie wiped a tear from his face, keeping his eyes down. “But sweetheart,” Jamie continued, squeezing Charlie’s hand, “I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t know just how much you do for your brother and for this family. I know, and I’m incredibly grateful for it.” Charlie shrugged, half comforted and half embarrassed that he needed comforting. Jamie reached over to hug her son again. “Honey, I can’t promise that you’ll never have to help with Will, even when it’s inconvenient or you want or need to do something else, but baby, I promise, I promise that you can always ask.” Charlie’s lip started to tremble at the unintended implication that he should have known better than to just piss himself without even saying anything. Seeing Charlie’s face crumple, Jamie tried again. “Charlie, please don’t feel bad, honey. This wasn’t your fault. I know you were just trying to help and do what you think I needed. But Charlie,” Jamie gently reached for the teen’s chin and tilted his face toward her. “You’re my son, too. And I want you to be safe and happy, just like your brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me what you need, OK?” Charlie nodded morosely, not quite ready to feel better. But he pasted on a smile for his mom. He didn’t want her to worry.
  23. Hello, I don't think this has been posted here before and I thought someone might enjoy it:
  24. Diaper Lovers, I hadn't thought about this until earlier today -- really not a party person. But if you like wearing diapers to non-diaper parties, check out advertisements: For males: search words include "long coats," "duster coats," "drover coats," and "range coats." For females search words include "long dresses" and "maxi dresses." Looks to me like anyone could attend a semi-formal occasion with a diaper under one of these, and no one would every suspect he or she wore naughty foundations beneath. Maybe put such clothing over a diaper, dine at a nice restaurant and attend a concert wearing diapers all the evening. Does this appear workable to others here? Have any here done this?