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  1. I was wondering if anyone had seen the full version of this video. I felt like I have but I can't find it anywhere and it's got all sorts of awesome stuff in it: http://e6ma.com/movie/364754
  2. I had this old 'union suit' that doesn't fit well, but is wonderful to wet; the way the pee flows easily to your back is invigorating! I highly recommend procuring one at the earliest convenience, especially if your Winter is cold! Happy Wetting Bed.mp4
  3. If you you were, or knew, a teen bedwetter how did parents react? I wet 11 to 14. With a couple exceptions, these were real accidents. (Then was dry at night age 15 - 18 - my last multi-year dry period). My mother was horrified. No way would she just accept and let me wear diapers. I had a really embarrassing flood at a sleep over. How did you deal with sleep overs? Since I've read more, remembering doesn't bother me. But at the time I wanted to crawl into a cave and never come out. Thank you.
  4. Well I've finally found time to do it, I made a bedwetting video from the Vintage Goodnites I recently came across. For backstory, I was recently back at my parents place, and was rummaging through old boxes of my stuff (my old room is pretty intact), and I found an amazing treasure inside an old backpack. I had almost forgotten about this backpack, but I must have had it packed for a sleepover or a teenage me must have stashed some diapers in it for another reason. What was inside was a couple of pairs of panties, and an old T-shirt, and two pairs of Goodnites pullups, the all white ones from the late 90s! There were also some other pullups in there, but I'll tell you about those another time. I was so excited to find these because they are my ultimate favorite diaper of all times. These are the pullups I wore growing up and in which I first discovered my fetish and well they are the diaper to which I compare all other diapers. So as many of you will know, I've been making the odd custom video for people (and having a tonne of fun doing it), and also selling my panties and general wetting videos as well. Thank you to those in the community who have bought some of my stuff recently :) it makes me feel really good to know that people enjoy my stuff. Right, so I finally got around to making a sexy bedwetting video and wanted to share the preview and tease shots for you all here. If you are interested in a copy (with the full 30 picture photo set), please do email me (rachelkirwan@gmx.com), and check out my website for more cool sexy stuff: http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties/wetting-videos And finally, shots from the video! And the full preview! Enjoy! Rach
  5. Version

    1,012 downloads

    No subs on this one, so if somebody wanted to translate, it would be really helpful, but a very nice video!

    Free

  6. Version 1.0.0

    2,537 downloads

    A collection of Bedwetting videos. These are pretty big files but great bedwettings. They are collected from a couple of other JAVs, but all cute. Some where the actor is sleeping in a bed, and others where they are in a chair and napping. Enjoy Rach

    Free

  7. Version 2.0

    6,593 downloads

    Clips I found, bought and converted.

    Free

  8. View File Rachel's Holiday Gift 10: Hot Male Bedwetting! So finally something for those of us who love bedwetting and men! Classic bedwetting in white briefs! Enjoy! Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 12/29/2016 Category Underwear Wetting  
  9. View File Adult Baby Girls - Wetset I tried to upload this a couple of weeks ago but did something wrong, so if it appears twice I apologize. It was taken from a VHS tape so the quality isn't perfect. The upskirt sequences at the end are IMHO worth watching although, surprisingly, the girl doesn't wet her panties. I used to know the girls' names but I've forgotten them, can anyone help? WARNING - There is nudity, particularly when the girls change their panties and diapers. Submitter PeepeePeelover Submitted 04/03/2016 Category Female Diaper Play & Wetting  
  10. This topic is where I will post earlier stories about my early involuntary nighttime wettings. In late 2011 I woke up twice while wetting. The first time happened about November 9, 2011.I had decided, for the first time in several nights, not to wear a diaper to bed. I wore just white cotton briefs and an undershirt under my PJs. I woke up sometime during the night. I was lying on my back and immediately sensed that I was wetting. It was an put-of-body experience: my urine seemed to be moving through a tube horizontally right-to-left a foot above my crotch! Pilots have reported out-of-body experiences when their brains are deprived of oxygen during high g-force maneuvers. They feel as if they are looking down at themselves in the cockpit from a position above the aircraft's tail. In my case I was looking at my penis, I suppose, suspended in mid-air. Very strange. Like some others who have reported wetting the bed as adults, I stopped the flow immediately and felt my crotch to determine how much damage I had done. A small area on my pajamas, maybe 3 inches in diameter, was damp but not soaking. Fortunately my briefs had soaked up most of the urine. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, pulled down my PJs bottoms and briefs, and peed. The smell of the asparagus in my urine was strong. I took off my PJs bottoms and briefs, washed out the briefs in my sink, and hung them up to dry on the shower door. Wearing just my PJs, I went back to bed. The second time was on December 13, 2011, when I woke up actually wetting the bed. This was the first time in 45 years that I had wet the bed while asleep. A 4-inch spot, so not awful. As I woke up, I realized that I was wetting. It went on for a few seconds before I realized I should stop wetting. I wasn't aroused. The sensation was not particularly pleasurable; it was just there. My wetting didn't frighten me. In fact, I was just trying to decide whether I should relax and finish peeing in bed, or get up and go to the toilet. I got up and finished peeing in the toilet. I compromised by taking off my PJ bottoms but leaving my briefs on and peeing through them. After I finished peeing, I took my briefs off and rinsed them out in the sink, then put my slightly wet PJ bottoms back on and went back to bed. I didn't feel embarrassed, just a little worried about whether I had regressed into frequent bedwetting. It would be very embarrassing to wet the bed while visiting family or friends. I wondered which would be more fun, to wake up while wetting and just finish going in bed, or to sleep through the wetting and wake up in a wet bed. Either way sounded awesome, and a potentially dangerous event for a former teen and young adult bedwetter. I thought I'd hate to lose nighttime control again, but I might also love it. I had been wearing and wetting diapers a lot recently, both at night and during the day. Until I left for a visit with family a few days later, I avoided wearing diapers and wetting my clothes. It was fun, but I wanted to be back in control of my pee. My hope afterwards was that I would just stay relaxed and let my pee flow unconstrained. The sense of complete relaxation was wonderful!
  11. female

    Forewarning before you start reading if this sort of thing reaaaaally matters to you, I did not wet my actual bed in my sleep. You see, I just recently got a new bed, and the day before we had hauled my old mattress out onto the step before anybody went to work. Essentially, I've only "wet" the bed three times in my life and one of them barely counts because I woke up and rolled off of it, in a story you can easily find here. Its not something I as a person I can easily hide due to circumstance, and I've never really been interested but this day in particular presented an extremely unique opportunity so I figured I'd try it out. That being, I pulled the mattress back inside the house and almost roleplayed a bedwetting by laying the old mattress on my kitchen floor. We'll start this story with a general start of my day. Woke up, brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, drank a back to back combo of a tangerine/blueberry smoothie, a glass of orange juice, and a cup of tea. Such is actually a surprisingly common Kozmo breakfast! Everyone was going about their morning routines, getting ready for work, brand new morning yadda ya. I am an unemployed student who was on break up until tomorrow actually, so I wasn't going anywhere. I just wanted to be up to have the house to myself. It was at this point dad suggested dragging the old mattress outside so he could take it to the dump in a few days. I helped him do so and the second I helped him get it out onto the back patio I realized two things. One, I was fucking freezing because I just walked outside in the Canadian winter and my slender legs were pantsless; I had gone to bed just wearing a big shirt and underwear, a staple household combo for women everywhere (My Friday the 13th shirt :3). Two, everything I stated in the first paragraph plowed through my mind like a freight train and I was already planning deviousness. Nobody batted an eye as they rushed through their routine, even though my mother must have come into the kitchen as I was drinking MORE tea or MORE orange juice or a tall glass of water on any given occasion. About an hour later mom left and I gave her a small wave from the counter, where I was sipping at a mug of coffee, probably my fifth or sixth drink of the morning. Now anyone will tell you this is the path to bloating and rapid desperation you're unprepared for, but the idea was that shortly after everyone left I would be sound asleep.~ The second my dad followed suit out the door I was dashing up the stairs, my feet pounding the floor as loudly as my heart as I burst into my room and looked at my clothes. Should I do it like this? Should I wear actual pajamas? I eventually decided on actual pajamas, to make the experience just a bit more genuine. A matching purple pair I like that I knew I could throw right in the wash, purple patterned with teddy bears and snowflakes. The shirt was a button up, with a cute bow on the collar! They were very soft, very fluffy and warm. In addition I grabbed three things that are a must for a sleep for me in my actual bed. One, my Daryl Dixon pillow (IF DARYL DIES WE RIOT), two, a soft brown blanket I have that would soon also be in the wash, and three, my great big torso sized stuffed dog, Cassie. Now that I had all these things I gathered them in the kitchen. I was starting to feel the twinge of the many, many liquids filling my bladder, and I shuddered a bit, rubbing my legs together and being deliberately as cute as possible with it, because immersion. My time was running out; While this wasn't my first bladder rodeo and I knew I'd be able to hold it in utter agony for a few hours like your standard alliance schoolgirl, I needed to be comfortable enough to gently fall asleep. Now that I was prepared, I feel its time for the OBLIGATORY DESCRIPTION PHASE: In addition to the pajama combination, you know the drill. Put me in the middle of the 5-6 foot range, literally somewhere in the middle, and know that I'm like 100 pounds of unhealthy and tiny. Ridiculously pale, accented by the snow this time of year, with long dark hair. It was red but its fading and getting darker D: Potential re-dye soon? Haven't done blue in awhile. My standard for most of the time has been black or really dark brunette. I never thought to mention that I have tattoo's, but I will not say what. If one knew where my tattoo's were and where and you know me IRL, it is a complete dead giveaway, completely unmistakable. Just know I have tattoos on my back, collar/chest area, wrists, and foot. I am inked. None of them overly big, I just have a few :P In addition I was wearing a pink bra-panty combo. Nothing frilly, nothing special. Anyway, it was around then that I went out onto the step in the cold again, and with great effort, pulled the mattress back inside and dropped it right on the kitchen floor. The dogs were very confused and promptly investigated, but did not seem to find it suspicious when I promptly laid down on it, and tossed my blanket over myself. I shifted a bit more, it wasn't at the NEED TO GO stage but it was filling. I responded by cuddling Cassie close, curling up on my side, and closing my eyes. I used some cognitive therapy I learned once to fall asleep super fast, in combo with the fact that I hadn't been awake long and was still groggy. I woke up two hours later, on my mattress laying on my side cuddling the stuffed dog. I was damp, but I had to pee so fucking badly I had literally been trembling in my sleep, and still was. I must have leaked, in fact I'd imagine it was likely what woke me up. I unlatched an arm from Cassie and reached under the blanket to feel myself, and found my crotch and left thigh were warm and wet. I kept my hand there, I had to or I would have lost control that very second. I laid there with my hand buried in myself, my face buried into the stuffed dog, whimpering and mewling, my legs rubbing and criss crossing around my hand. I treated it like a child might treat it, even though I'm not an ageplay person. Dunno why, it just felt cuter! I'm not allowed to get up in the middle of the night or mommy will get mad, type thing. So I tried to hold it! Even through the next leak that had me moaning into my stuffed dog. And the next big spurt that soaked my hand and had me feeling warmth running down my butt and slightly pooling underneath me in the mattress. It all felt so warm. I actually started to sweat because I felt hot, not in a sexual way just a combined heat of my pj's spurting pee, all under a blanket. I kept squirming and mewling and trying to hold, hugging the stuffed dog while trembling as if she could make it all alright, but every few shifts I could feel pee just shoot into my panties and my hand would grow wetter, as would my legs and the area beneath me. Something in the feeling of literally feeling a drop slip from between my fingers and run down the back of my hand, making contact with my sleeve made my bite onto the dogs ribbon collar and groan, just pleading for the feeling to subside as I felt a small trickle burst forth from me. The trickle was continuous. And slowly got bigger. I could NOT stop this leak and the second I realized this I started begging and crying to nobody in particular, that I couldn't hold it anymore and that I was peeing my bed. Something in me broke and in a swift motion I flopped onto my back and buried both hands between my legs, shoving the blanket between them and all, yelling into my empty house, "NO NO NO NO NO!!!" The dam completely shattered. Pee rushed out of me like you wouldn't believe, something in the motion strained my achingly full bladder and I completely lost control, urine spraying through my underwear into my soft cuddly pajamas, immediately drenching my blanket and the hands holding them where they were. I cried and thrashed and I and everything in contact with me save for the dog became sopping wet. The blanket was beyond saving, the bottom of my pajama pants were saturated to the point of squishyness. The mattress started to absorb all the warm pee and it pooled and pooled and pooled. I arched, still peeing my pants as I felt it pool to my lower back and even above. My sleeves got wet. I could feel it everywhere, all while I was still desperately trying to regain control to no avail, soaking my old mattress right to the last drop. After it ended and the relief had washed over me I could drop the act and I just laid there and enjoyed it until everything got cold, at which point I got up and took the mattress back outside. Still in my wet pajamas, which was a terrible idea. Cold. Cold cold cold. COLD. I got back inside and cleaned the mess that was the lake residing where the mattress had been laying, threw everything in the laundry, took a shower, and just kind of sat around in a fresh pair of bra and panties (The heat was on ^^ We have a fireplace) and watched Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV.
  12. So while I was feeling a little unwell earlier in the week, I'm feeling much better, and I've been a busy (and naughty girl). First of all I've been making all sorts of custom videos and a couple just general videos, and I've made a page on my website for my videos and custom videos. I didn't want to make things too commercial here, so all I'll do is share a couple of picture from my most recent video adventure, and a link to my site. http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties/wetting-videos So in this video I tested out Always Discreet's for their effectiveness in bedwetting. I'm trying to get bedwetting videos of every single diaper I own (and I've got actually a decent sized box of a lot of diapers I've worn in the past, and pads too). So this was next up after I've done Molicare and Goodnites (the new ones, I'm still awaiting the right time to do the vintage ones). Anyhow, as you can see, the Always Discreet are only discreet when worn by a lady under her cloths standing up, and a lady who doesn't completely soak them ;) This little girl thought she could wear them to bed to help keep the bed dry in the face of her bedwetting problem and she was wrong. I am particularly proud of getting the puddle just right, in past videos I've struggled to get it to show up vividly on camera, but some cleverness on my part (and lots of experimentation), I think made for an excellent video :) If you are interested in a copy please let me know! (Message or email, rachelkirwan@gmx.com). Hugs Rach
  13. Hello everyone, I hope you had great holidays! So in addition to the usual holiday hubbub, I got some good quality alone time with my hubby in our new apartment. We made some naughty diaper wetting videos together, and he is almost fully trained as my camera man. I wanted to share some stills and previews of some of the videos we made. As many of you will know, I started selling my used panties this year, and very recently made a couple of custom panty and diaper wetting videos for kinky customers. I wanted to make a couple of general videos, because not everyone wants something custom, but is just craving some sexy diaper-wetting content :) So please let me know if you are interested in any of these videos, or if you would like me to make you something special just for you. Drop me a message or send me an email. This first video is me in a big poofy comfy Molicare, all ready for nap time: Then me napping, and it was a good thing I wore protection! This video is 4:23 long, and features me napping, and then flooding my Molicare, and then napping some more :) Molicare are amazing, they can hold more than two Rachel-bladders! And after I woke up, Daddy snapped a picture of me in my soaked diaper, right before changing me into a fresh pair of panties! So as some of you might know, I absolutely love the new Goodnites, they are really good, and I've been doing my best to try to get them to leak. So far I've only had teeny tiny little leaks on the sheets. The kind that would be dry by the time you wake up, so Daddy doesn't know. I also love the new patterns! This one is much shorter, about 2 minutes long, but features yours truly in one of the new (Amazing) Goodnites, all sleepy and cuddled out, wetting the bed. I can't wait to make more, it's so much fun! And I'm really going to try to get the Goodnites to leak. ;)
  14. Male

    So far in 2016 I've woken up wetting four times: January 30: The night before, I wore my usual diaper and booster pad to bed. Sometime during the night I woke up to the most marvelous sensation of hot pee pouring out of me and bathing my crotch. I was barely awake enough to register what was happening, and I didn't interfere with it at all. I don't think that I even realized I was wearing a diaper. I just felt the heat and the wetness for a moment and went back to sleep. Looks like I'm regressing to wetting in my sleep more often -- that was the fourth time in the past five months. Luckily I was well diapered! I kept my diaper on and wet it some more. It got very bulky between my legs. I enjoyed just holding my crotch with both hands to feel how big my protection combo had become. The last time I wet it, I was lying on my side. Big mistake -- the diaper leaked into my pajamas and then onto the washable waterproof pad that I use to protect my bed. Oh, well, no real harm done. All the wet things were soon washed and dried. March 25: For the first time since January I woke up wetting. This time I was not wearing a diaper, so my briefs and pajamas got wet. Not very wet, since I reflexively stopped the flow. I kinda wish I'd stayed relaxed and continued to wet. Doing so would have been safe, since as usual I was sleeping on my waterproof pad. March 29: The night before, I was undiapered. I woke up and thought I was wearing protection, so I started to pee. I quickly realized my mistake, but not before wetting my shorts and pajama bottoms. I got up and went to finish in the toilet. I began to remove my wet PJs but decided instead to leave them on and finish wetting them while sitting on the toilet. I enjoyed once again the feeling of hot pee bathing my most sensitive areas. April 5: I went to sleep undiapered the night before. I woke up wetting again in the night and, sadly, reflexively stopped peeing. My briefs and pajama bottoms were wet but not my pad. I wish I could experience relaxed wetting again, whether I'm wearing a diaper or not -- as long as I'm sleeping in my own bed, not visiting family or friends! Taking into account the two nights in a row that I wet the bed in early December, I've now wet in my sleep six times in the past four months, which is a rate of 18 times a year. Just considering recent wettings, 3 in 12 days, I see the rate is 90 per year. Whether I wet 18 or 90 times this year, it will be far more than I have wet in earlier years. Thanks, BPH!
  15. Fam's Race Against Time!! Illustrated by Born-to-die http://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=1920354 Written by me! GigaQ Disclaimer: All persons depicted in this comic are over the age of 18. The main character of the story undergoes a curse causing a change of appearance but does not change her actual age. All nudity shown in this comic is strictly artistic in nature. No sexual act depicting a minor is in this shown in this comic! Contains: Age Regression, Omorashi, Nudity, Diapers and a cute little bedwetting! to purchase this comic send a Paypal payment (goods and services) of $11.99 to ( Galyathore@gmail.com) and add YOUR email to the purchase and i'll email you the file ASAP! file includes: 7 page comic with uncensored cover page. +6 bonus images of the main character in various ages and regression pictures.
  16. Want to skip to the juicy part? I don’t blame you if you don’t fancy listening to my moral dilemmas- things start to happen just after the first *. This is my account of multiple wettings, every one is preceded by a set of asterisks. Enjoy! It’s been a very long time since I wrote anything on this forum. My life’s been very busy of late and quite honestly I’ve felt fulfilled to a point where I haven’t needed to turn to this site for help or acceptance. But fuelled by a crazy experience this weekend, I turn to you with the question I’ve been asking myself. It seems like forever ago that I moved to the UK. It was when I was first here that, for a short week, I got to know a girl who made me question a lot about myself. I told her things I’d never spoken face to face with anybody about. I felt so comfortable doing so because I knew we would not know each other past that week, and what ever judgments she formed would be insignificant once we parted ways. In the context of friendship, I talked to her about my fetish and she shared some of her own sexual experiments. Despite taking it to the next level and not just talking about these things, we said our goodbyes at the end of the week and hadn’t spoken since. I’ve always been wary of what happened between us. The one big thing that she taught me was the uneasy realisation that against the social norm, boys weren’t really on my sexual radar. This isn’t the sort of realisation that happens overnight. For as much time as possible I’ve set it in the back of my mind and tried not to think of it. I hate the thought of having to come out to people, the idea that some of my longest known friends might think down on me. And so my way of avoiding it was to force myself to develop a false asexuality. Any experience I’ve had since seeing Hannah has been alone, in my room, in the woods, under that lovely tree on the bridal path. Alone. And I was happy that way. No pressure. No ‘coming out’. No judgements. About six weeks ago I received an email from Hannah. It was the first contact we’ve had since meeting just under a year and a half ago. We were bot 18 at the time. Talking to her again online wasn’t quite enough, so we met up for lunch. Over the following weeks, despite the long journeys, we’ve met to spend time together as friends. She’s a very bright girl; self assured and respectably ignorant to the pressures society places on young women. It’s never easy for one to explain why a friendship works, all I can say is that despite not knowing each other for very long at all, she is my very best friend. I never want to change our friendship. I worry how selfish this may be, but right now I just can’t hack the hassle of telling my family I have a girlfriend. Nor do I want the extra pressure a relationship bring our true friendship to a close. My biggest question, which I hope you can answer, is will it ever work if we’re ‘friends with benefits’. Can that even exist between two girls? Is that something you’ve ever experienced? This is all sparked by the very surreal experiences of last weekend. Hannah’s parents (who she lives with in London) were going away to celebrate their anniversary. Alongside their home in the capital they also own a small place in the South of France, and so that Hannah didn’t feel left out whilst they were away, her parents had given her the keys to their holiday home. I was thrilled when Hannah invited me on a long weekend away with her. We flew out and arrived around midday on Friday. The weather was warmer than home, but it was a little overcast and drizzly. Despite this we took a long walk through the beautiful countryside, and settled in to the villa after having a meal in a local restaurant. It was all very exciting, the villa had three bedrooms: the master with it’s en-suit, a smaller room with a single bed, and a third room we never went in. I agreed that it would be nice to sleep in the double with Hannah, and so late Friday evening we settled down together. We’ve shared each other’s beds a few times recently, it’s fully excepted and not at all awkward between us. We were friends on a sleep-over. But there was one elephant in the room. The first time we’d met we’d shared a life changing sexual bedwetting experience. This was something neither of us had mentioned since getting back in touch. Now, away in a foreign country on what could have been perceived as a ‘romantic’ weekend, the elephant in the room was growing bigger. Just after slipping on some short pyjamas, I got up and began to head for the washroom. I hadn’t peed since being on the plane. “Charlie,” came Hannah’s voice from behind me. I turned to face her, my hand on the door handle. “I… um…” despite faltering, her speech was still very confident. “Come and sit down for a minute,” she gestured to the bed. I did as I was told. “I wanted to say on earlier, I still think about what happened in the hotel. It stays with me- what we did,” she looked into her lap and smiled, a little glint of pride in her eye. “When I got home I googled it,” my heart leapt into my mouth as she continued. Was she about to say she’d found this forum? Had she read what I’d written about her? I felt my cheeks flaring up. “I found a Yahoo Answers page…” My heart slowed again, but I was still anxious. Part of me had been desperate for this conversation to happen. “…it was a girl asking a question in which she wrote a story about a very naughty thing she’d done,” I listened intensely as she continued, a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye. “She’d said how one week when her parents were away, she banned herself from using the loo. She slept in their bed, and rather than weeing in the toilet, every time she needed to go she went back into her own bedroom and peed on her bed, then went back to her parents to sleep.” I was astonished. I didn’t know what to say. There was a warm fuzzy feeling in me. Hannah explained the rest of what this one girl had done, and said how she was turned on by the story. She’d read the answers which gave her a little more information about the fetish but ultimately, she explained, the story had done one thing. “It made me want to try it- really badly want to,” Hannah told me. There was a long pause. I was very aware that my lip was twitching as I tried to figure out what I would say. * “Are you… well do you want to…” I stammered, perched on the edge of the bed “is that why we’re…” “Well now’s as good a time as any,” she said, confidently cocking her head to one side, her big pleading eyes absorbing me. “So…” once again I tried to find the words, “Well I kinda need to go now…” I was beginning to get really excited. “So go to the guest room,” she grinned ear to ear, “While you were out on the phone earlier I put a mattress cover on the bed in there. Enjoy it, and come back to this bed when you’re done.” Once again she gestured to my spot in the bed. “So from now on,” she continued, “…all the time we’re here and if it’s just a wee-wee you need: the toilet is out of bounds. Would you like that?” I was overwhelmed. Unable to form words, I simply nodded. “Go on then.” She winked at me, tucked her long hair behind one eye and rolled over in bed. I stood, my legs felt weak, my knees slightly shaky. Then, trying to keep my cool, I walked out and made my way through the unfamiliar rooms to the guest room. I didn’t feel the need to shut the door behind me, instead I stood in the dark room looking down at the single bed in front of me. It was lit only by the moonlight through the open curtains. Hannah had taken off the duvet and pillows, leaving only a crisp dry sheet over the waterproof cover. She’d put two large towels down on the floor in front of the bed. None of it felt real. My heart fluttered in my chest, my breathing quivering. I couldn’t work out what to do with myself. After a moment to figure out a few practicalities, I decided to treat it as if I was just sitting on the loo. I pulled my short PJ bottoms down to my shaking knees, then sat my nervous bottom on the edge of the dry bed. I was still wearing my pale coloured panties. It took a few deep breaths to calm my body. Inside my panties I felt warm and fuzzy. I closed my eyes. Took another deep breath. Relaxed. My pee hole filled. Then, breaking the silence with a gentle hissing, I began to wet the bed. The warm yellow liquid filled my panties. A tingle shot up my spine. The hissing grew louder, my bottom wetter. I was throbbing, excitement rushing through me. My hands were trembling as more and more warm pee gushed straight through the panties, puddling around my bottom and warming my lap. It felt amazing. Very wrong, very dirty, even more naughty. But extremely good. Eventually I finished. The hissing faded away and the final dribble came to a close. I smiled to myself, and as I stood drips of my pee trickled out of my panties and tickled as they ran down my legs. I took off my pants, leaving them wet with my pee-pee in the puddle I’d made on the bed. Then, trying to calm myself back down, I pulled my shorts up over my naked wet bottom, and headed back to bed. “Goodnight,” was the only thing Hannah said as I climbed in. I tried to work out when she last went to the loo, and wondered if she’d be visiting the other room anytime soon. It was my final thought before I drifted asleep. ** Saturday morning came quickly, a sign I had slept very deeply that night. Hannah was already outside, taking a phone call. I could hear the kettle coming to a boil in the kitchen and got up to poor some coffees. On my way past the other bedroom, I stopped to look in. It smelled pretty strong. Hannah had been in there since I’d wet last night. She’d left a sizeable puddle to the left of where I’d sat. It had stained the sheet yellow and you could see where, unable to absorb further than the mattress cover, it had run off the edge of the bed and splashed over the towel on the floor. It was an odd shaped stain on the sheet. I couldn’t quite work out what position she must have been in. One of the towels that was spread neatly on the floor was now scrunched in one corner- she’d obviously used it to wipe herself down after finishing. I also noticed a packet of wet wipes had been put on the bedside table. Looking at it all, I felt butterflies doing a little excited dance in my tummy, and stepped forward for my morning pee. I gently ran my fingertips through the wet patch Hannah had left. It wasn’t completely cold: she must have done it just before heading outside. With the window slightly open so I could hear the birds outside, I knelt on the bed. The pyjama shorts I was wearing were quite short, and with a little reposition of the fabric I managed to expose myself so that I could pee down one leg. It was unlike any wetting position I’d tried before. The thick, morning stream of pee shot down my thigh. I gripped the tightly scrunched soft fabric of the PJs, trying my best to keep the spray away from them. The rich pee pooled under my knees, the warmth tingling as I emptied my bladder’s straight onto the bed. It felt undeniably good. But the kettle had boiled, and so I denied myself further pleasures and wiped down. After both taking showers, we spent most of the day out. Hannah wanted to show me some of the places she’d visited on family holidays to the villa. Other than a very brief discussion over breakfast, we didn’t really talk about the bed that was sitting dripping with our pee back at the villa. She’d mentioned early in the day that she wanted to keep the window open and the door shut (to keep the smell from becoming an issue), but added that she felt turned on every time she stepped in there. On the whole, we acted entirely as friends with the occasional giggly immature conversation anytime something sexual popped up. I’m sure anyone around us found us highly irritating. But that didn’t bother me. *** Back at the villa in the evening, I was the first to yet again head for the single bedroom. As I swung open the door a familiar fuzzy joy hit me. But this time there was added reason. Hannah was following me in. My heart was beginning to race again, and my breath grew short. We were both still fully clothed in tight fitting jeans. With the window open, the room was a little on the chilly side. The sheet was still very wet from the morning. I turned to smile a Hannah as she shut the door behind her. I think it was obvious I was nervous. Timidly, I pulled down my jeans and sat in my panties on the edge of the cold, wet bed. “Awwww, you’ve been sitting down!” Hannah said in a sweet voice. I went to stand, not sure if I was doing the right thing. “No,” she said, stopping me, “It’s cute. Stay there.” I did as I was told and she turned to sit next to me, our legs not quite touching. She hadn’t lowered her jeans, and looked into her lap, fidgeting with her hands. Unsure of where to look, so did I. There was an awkward silence. I was too on-edge to pee, but never the less tried to encourage encourage myself to go. The silence was broken by a muffled hiss coming from Hannah’s lap. My excitement grew. I looked out the corner of my eye to see a long dark wet patch shooting along the inside of her jeans. I heard her breath a sigh of relief as the stream started, and couldn’t take my eyes off of the big black stain filling her thighs. Around her bottom, the cold wet sheet became the base for a shallow glistening puddle of her wee. She’d finished before I’d managed to start. I sat in awe, unable to peal my eyes of her little bottom as she stood. The moment she was off the mattress, the depression around my cheeks became the new home for the puddle of her wee. It swamped around me, the warmth a stark contrast to my shivering bottom previously dampened by the old, cold pee. She stood with her back to me, my eyes still fixed on the glistening wet patch. It was the shape of a heart, formed up around her two cute pert buttocks and sweeping down the back of her legs. She pulled off the wet jeans and, leaving them in a heap on the floor, wiped herself down and left the room. I watched her naked legs disappearing round the corner, my mind a haze. Inside my panties I was getting puffy and sticky. I closed my eyes and peed. By the time I was back in the bedroom she was already under the covers. We smiled at each other as I climbed into bed. I drifted to sleep that night thinking of the first of Hannah’s wee-wees I’d seen. Her surprise at the fact I’d sat down to pee gave me the impression she’d been standing up to go. That might, I thought, further explain her reasoning for putting towels down. **** Sunday morning came and once again I woke to an empty bed. Hannah was up, I presumed in the kitchen, so I got up to join her. As I headed for the sound of the boiling kettle, I walked past the other bedroom. The door was open, and standing boldly upon the towel, her petit figure leaning slightly over the bed, was Hannah. She had her pyjama pants down round her ankles, her legs slightly apart and both hands contorting her crotch so that her wee was directed right onto the bed sheet. Her naked bottom was silhouetted by the window opposite her, the thick stream backlit brightly by the rising sun. Her stream was making the most amazing thundering sound as it hammered down over the already wet sheet. Because of the amazing backlighting, I could see every droplet of the spray as her hot morning wee doused the bed. Reluctantly I walked on, not wanting to give the wrong message if she turned round and saw me staring, my jaw practically on the floor. We spent the majority of Sunday in the villa. We had to leave for the airport late Monday morning, time to exploit the pee-pee bed was passing quickly. Every time I'd peed on that bed I'd gotten more and more horny. I was consciously trying not to think about, just because every time I did I was desperate to play with myself. Both me and Hannah visited it on a couple of separate occasions as the day passed. I was sure I was not the only horny one, and it was hard to ignore how strong the sexual tension was beginning to grow. Just friends, I had to remind myself. When it came to bedtime I tried standing to pee, just like I'd seen Hannah doing. That turned out to be really fun and I went to sleep that night quite unbelieving of the whole bizarre situation these last few days had seen me in. ***** I woke sometime in the small hours of the morning after dreaming about the pee soaked bed in the next room. My immediate thought was 'Oh goodness! Have I wet this bed?', not that I thought Hannah would have minded. I hadn’t. But as I lay there awake, next to Hannah peacefully sleeping, I found it impossible to distract myself from the incredible desire to play. Quietly, I slipped out of bed. I was horny, desperate to touch myself. So much so that as I sneaked off to the other bedroom I couldn't help but slip a hand down my PJ shorts for a quick teasing play. I got into the other room and climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in my PJs in the very middle of the mattress. The sheet was wet with cold pee. I was feeling really turned on. Inside my panties I throbbed. Looking up for a moment I realised I'd left the door open, but just before I got up to shut it Hannah drifted quietly round the corner. My heart raced. Her long dark hair cast a soft shadow down one side of her face as her silky pyjamas shimmered in the moonlight. She smiled at me and giggled cheekily as she stepped up onto the bed. My hands began to shake, my tummy filled with nerves. I sat tight as she dropped down close behind me. She stretched her legs out round me and brought her arms across my front. Her body was warm as it pressed into my back, her arms firmly embracing me. I felt an incredible sense of security, combined with an overwhelming sense of calm. My racing heart slowed once again, and I found myself resting quite contented in her arms. A while past. Still firmly embracing me, Hannah's arms begun to drift. One arm wrapped around my chest and the other slipped further down. Oddly, I could not have been more relaxed. As her gentle fingertips dragged sensitively into my pants, a small, warm dribble filled my soft cotton underwear. "Go on," Hannah whispered tenderly and slowly as she caressed my pussy, "let it all out." I had no control. Pee flowed in a thin stream into my panties. As it did, the warm fuzzy feeling was taking over my crotch. My heart was picking up again, pumping faster and seeming to miss beats. I tried to keep my breathing calm, but I just wanted to gasp. Then it happened, Hannah let her bladder go. Hot wee splashed against my bottom, soaking my shorts and the back of top. All of a sudden both our bottoms were engulfed in the hot yellow puddle. I couldn't hold back anymore and pushed both my hands into my pants. Hard pleasure shot up my spine as I furiously rubbed. The bed flooded with Hannah's torrent of hot wee. In full flow she began rubbing herself up against me. With her body pressed so tightly against mine, I could feel her racing pulse and her fast warm pants against my neck. Both her hands pushed into my pants where her pee soaked palms wrapped around my knuckles. Her fingers were nimble and knew exactly where to go. Waves of pleasure engulfed my body as harder and harder she rubbed up against me. Her grip on my hands was strong. I breathed faster and deeper, trying but failing to hold back. The pleasure was getting just too great. Every sense was exploding: flashes of bright colours seemed to punctuate each and every time she slipped her fingertips in and out of me. I could feel it coming on, my thighs were trembling. I gasped for air as unbearable pleasure took over. I pulled her hands away and immediately a gush of hot cum filled my panties. splashing both of our hands, it was enough to send Hannah over the edge. To the crescendo of her moans I furiously rubbed myself, once more allowing hot sticky cum to squirt into my pyjamas. We both lay back on the wet bed, exhausted. We talked, and after a little while took a shower together. Together we cleaned the room and set a wash-load on with all the pee stained fabrics from the past few days. After a long lay in it was time to pack for the journey to the airport. Hannah was still very adamant that the washroom was to remain unused, and so it was that my final pee on French soil was quite literally that- squatting and watering the grass outside with Hannah. We spoke a lot about what we did, and together we agree that we are indeed friends with benefits. Yesterday we spoke on the phone to arrange a shopping trip next week.
  17. Just a memory from my childhood. First a little back ground information. I stopped wetting my bed by accident around age 10 but still wet it on purpose every so often until at least age 14. Anyway I would never get up to use the bathroom on Christmas eve and was quite content to just go in my pants. I can remember many Christmas Eves just laying in bed and just peeing in my pajamas. I did this every year until at least 14 years old. I'm the middle child and have both a younger and older sister. My younger sister was still a bed wetter, but I can remember Christmas eves mom putting a rubber sheet on my older sisters bed this one night of the year before she came home from her friends house. She wasn't a bed wetter, but that one night of the year we always woke up Christmas morning in wet pajamas. Somehow mom never made an issue of bed wetting that one day of the year. I don't really know what to make of this other than perhaps she did this growing up or its a carry over from early childhood and she didn't want us getting up and getting into the gifts.
  18. Version 1.0.0

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    So finally something for those of us who love bedwetting and men! Classic bedwetting in white briefs! Enjoy! Rach

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  19. Synopsis: A girl with an occasional bedwetting problem is introduced to watersports/omorashi and diapers by her DL boyfriend. This sparks an odyssey of self-discovery; her latent submissive-little side comes to the surface in an attempt to renew an unfulfilling childhood. He becomes her daddy dom, helping her every step of the way to a better life. Hello omo.orgians! Normally I am not a writer, but this has been kicking around my head for far too long. I had to write it down, and I thought I’d share it with you all. I don’t think I have it in me to write a proper coherent novel, so it’ll be more a series of oneshots loosely bound together by a timeline, based on scenarios that come to me that are cute and/or hot. Also note that this is my first piece of any kind that wasn’t an assignment, so please be kind! Feedback is appreciated. Without further ado... Discoveries Chapter 1 After wandering aimlessly through life for years, you think you've finally found your soulmate. Sarah is a demure, mousy girl, a little on the short side, not particularly curvaceous but very cute and sweet. She has wavy shoulder length dirty blond hair and expressive hazel eyes, but what drew you to her most was her melodious voice, like little bells tinkling. She has a bit of a sassy side, but you don’t think she would be complete without it. You met her at a gaming convention; you hit it off right away, your interests and opinions seeming to mesh perfectly. Afterwards, it started off slow. A morning stop at the coffee shop here, a gaming session there. But soon you enjoyed each others’ company so much that you couldn’t stand to be apart too long, and more often than not one of you was coming over to visit, learning everything you could about each other. You don’t know exactly you fell in love, but you certainly are now. A couple short months later and you’ve taken the big step of sleeping together at your place, although she seemed oddly conflicted about the idea... You haven’t done anything...untoward yet. You are both in your mid-late 20s and are virgins after all, neither of you feel ready to take it to the next level. Regardless, everything was looking up for you and Sarah, except for one problem: you haven’t worked up the courage to tell her you’re a diaper lover. You would like nothing more than to tell her, but you don’t want to ruin this burgeoning relationship. You enjoy every day with her, but there’s an ever-present tinge of despair that you’ll never be able to share this side of you with her. All this would change, however, that fateful night you awoke to a cold, wet sensation in your bed. Your sleep-addled brain struggles to come up with an explanation, ranging from a leaky roof to simply cold sweat from a bad dream, but a little feeling around and you find it’s coming from Sarah. You realize what has happened and are unsure what to do. You look at the clock. 4:05 AM. You don’t really want to, but you move to wake her up. It won’t do to lie around in a pissy bed all night. “Hey. Hey, Sarah. Wake up.” You gently rub her arm. Her eyes crack open. She smiles from the pleasant way of being woken up. “Mm?” “Sarah, the bed is wet. Did you...umm...” You trail off, not wanting to embarrass her further by saying the words. She stares at you blankly. Suddenly, her eyes widen. She flings the covers off and looks down to see what she’s done, swings her legs off the bed, and promptly makes to get up. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Woah, woah, hold on a second, let’s talk about this!” She resists for a moment, then sits back down and half-turns to you. Your heart breaks a little. Sarah is on the verge of tears and can’t bear to look you in the eye. She is muttering something to herself, and you strain to hear. You pick out phrases like “knew this would,” “never going to,” “so stupid...” You can’t stand her putting herself down like this. You sit up and put your other hand on her other shoulder. You turn her to face you fully and say “Look at me. Please.” She drags her head up, looking through you with watery eyes. “Sarah, I don’t know what this is about, but this doesn’t change anything between us, alright? I still love you. I love you so much. We’ll get past this, it’s not the end of the world.” She looks at you in disbelief as if you’ve grown another head. But your words sink in, and she slowly wraps her arms around you and buries her head in your chest, quietly hiccuping and sobbing. You wait patiently for her to compose herself. “I’ve been waiting so long for someone to say that to me...” She finally says. “Do you want to talk about it? She nods. “I’ve always had this...problem. Almost every night I can wake up and go to the toilet, but sometimes I don’t wake up.” “Oh, honey, that’s such a hard thing to live with. You should have told me instead of stressing yourself out like that.” You absently start playing with her hair. It seems to be having an effect. “I know sweetie, but I was so scared of how you’d react. I thought what we had would end because of this. I didn’t want that to happen to me again.” She makes a face like she’s tasted something bitter, and looks like she’s about to start up crying again. “Are you saying you’ve had a break up because of your issue?” She nods and hugs you tighter. “Sarah. I’m here for you. I would never do that to you.” She looks up and you lock eyes, then she gently touches her forehead to yours. You stay like this for a while, but then the reality of the incident hits you. Your pee soaked sheets are clammy and starting to itch, and no doubt she’s feeling the same. “Hun. How about you go to the bathroom to change, and I’ll take care of the bed, okay?” “I’d like that. Thank you so much for accepting this part of me.” She gets up, fingers trailing across your chest as she walks across to get her overnight bag, and leaves the room. Alone with your thoughts, you get up and gaze at the wet bed. You clutch your head and run your hands through your hair. This is unreal, you think. Have the stars aligned to have this girl fall into your lap? You have just the solution for her, but do you have the courage to explain to her why you have it? Your manhood twitches at the thought of her diapered, and you quickly busy yourself with removing the soiled bedding to distract yourself. You’re unfolding the new sheets when Sarah comes back in, wearing fresh pajamas and looking visibly less shaken. Wordlessly, she begins helping you make the bed. You lapse into a companionable silence. With the bed now made, you both get in and resume your cuddling. “Good night hun. We can talk about this more later.” “Mhmm. Good night sweets.” You can hear the smile in her voice. As you drift off, your thoughts turn what tomorrow will bring. Chapter 2 A week passes. Contrary to your suggestion, you don’t speak of this again. At first there is an uneasy tension between you, but as time wears on it fades into the background and things are almost normal. However, now that you’re looking out for it, you notice she gets up in the middle of the night for a trip to the bathroom, sometimes quite urgently. You can’t help but feel bad for the poor girl, but you just can’t psyche yourself up enough to tell her about your thick, fluffy salvation. You wake to a flurry of movement next to you. Amid Sarah’s swearing and her attempts to disentangle herself from the sheets, you can hear a hissing, pattering sound. She manages to stumble out of bed, holding herself and hunched over. Though the twilight, you can see her take two steps before freezing in place. She whimpers, then lets out a long, breathy sigh as her stream turns into a torrent. Her arms fall to her sides and her legs spread slightly as her pee sprays through her thin pajama bottoms as if they weren’t there, splashing onto the laminate floor. She stands there peeing with her eyes closed for what seems like forever, until she shudders and her stream dies down. She looks down at her puddle and lightly pulls at the soaked clothing clinging to her legs. You realize you’ve been staring slack-jawed at this whole spectacle, and are incredibly turned on. You’re rock hard, and this is clearly evident from the thrown-off covers. She looks at you, more resigned than upset, then she follows your gaze down to your throbbing member. Oh dear. Nobody moves for a few moments. Then, the most unexpected thing happens. Sarah starts giggling. She covers her mouth as she lets loose a delightful little titter as she points at the little tent in your underwear. Her laugh is infectious, and soon you’re laughing along with her. At you, at her, at the whole situation. Once the headiness wears off, she walks back over to you, but doesn’t sit due to her wet pants. “So, do you care to explain...” she vaguely gesticulates at your hard on, “...that?” She doesn’t look upset, just amused and slightly puzzled. You sit up, an odd calm coming over you. You knew this was coming eventually. There’s no way to sugar coat it now, so you might as well be blunt about it. “Well, Sarah...I’m turned on by needing to pee, and watching it in others too.” She cocks her head slightly. “That’s...a thing?” You swear, she’s too innocent for her own good sometimes. “Yeah. And hon, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” “Really? I don’t really like wetting myself because my problem has made it feel negative, but if it makes you so happy...I can try.” You have the biggest grin on your face, and feel like the luckiest man in the world. She must sense this in you, because she stoops down and gives you a big hug. You return the hug earnestly. “Thank you,. That’s all I can ask for. Admit it, though. You looked like you really enjoyed the relief.” She pulls back, blushing. “H-hey! That’s...not entirely untrue.” You roll your eyes and pull her back to you, laughing. Emboldened by her response, you figure now’s a good a time as any. “There’s something else,” you say. “Hmm?” “I’m also into...uhm...diapers.” “Diapers?” “Yeah.” “...Oh.” You feel your good mood dissipate at her reaction, and instantly regret your actions. Have you gone too far? You look to her, and instead of finding the weirded-out, disgusted look you expected, her face has gone blank, a thousand yard stare at nothing in particular. You hug her a little tighter. “Hey. Hey, are you alright?” She refocuses on you and notices she’s worrying you. “Oh, sweetie...” She pecks you on the cheek, and releases you. “I had nightime diapers a little longer than most, obviously, but my parents made me stop using them, even though I couldn’t help it. I really wish they hadn’t, it’s better than waking up in a soaked bed...” “You’re in for a treat then!” You say before she can get in a funk again. You get up and retrieve your bag of Molicares from your hiding place in your wall closet, pulling one out as you do. You emerge from the closet and hand it to her. “Wooow.” She breathes, “Look at that...” She runs her hand over it and gives it a squeeze. “Would you want to wear this to bed next time you’re over?” “YES! That would be great!” Your heart warms at her eagerness. She finally has hope about controlling her condition after so long. But once more, your mind turns to the chore of cleanup. “That would be great, but for now we have laundry to do.” “Oh, right...” She looks sheepish. You go about your business of changing clothes and sheets, and you mop up her puddle despite her insisting that she clean up her own mess. Afterwards, you look at the clock. It’s only an hour before when you normally get up, and neither of you feel like sleeping after what just transpired, so you cuddle a little more before starting your day, both with a little spring in your step. --- More to come EventuallyTM! Thanks for reading!
  20. Hello everyone! I'm not really active on the site, but I'm trying to write a story in english and I thought I could share it with all of you here. I hope you will like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! English is not my first language, so I hope you will understand everything... I would be glad to have feedback, even if you want to say you don't like the story. I'm open to any critics, and I really want to progress! Enjoy the reading! I STARTED THIS STORY 2 YEARS AGO AND THE TOPIC IS NOW DEAD. I FELT LIKE CONTINUING IT (I’M SO SORRY NOT TO BE REGULAR IN MY POSTS… I WORK A LOT AND I FORGOT ABOUT THIS STORY) SO I CREATED A NEW TOPIC. I POST THE FIRST THREE CHAPTERS: FOR THOSE WHO FOLLOWED MY STORY TWO YEARS AGO, YOU’LL FIND THE LAST CHAPTER AT THEN END OF THIS ENDLESS POST. :) The story focuses on a relationship between a teacher and his student. I don't want to say too much before you read, but you should just know that this will be a tutor fiction (no sex). ------------ CHAPTER ONE Alexander was slumped on a chair in front of the door of the director’s office, his blue eyes closed. His brown curled hair skimming his eyelids with indolence. He had to play his role until the end. Be indifferent, stay cool. However, in his head, he felt boiling with rage. Rage against himself. Against his bloody behaviour. He was the same bad boy he had been ever since he could remember. Except that this time… This time, he had gone too far. Why did he have to explode like that? Why did he have to satisfy that asshole? His maths teacher had had that sadistic smile when he got up, after getting punched. Yes, Alexander punched his teacher during class. What a silly thing to do when you know that Mr Bryant was waiting for a reason to kick him out of the school. The teen just gave him the right reason to do so. Because nobody would want to hear what his maths teacher said to him before he lost control. Nobody would want to know that Mr Bryant deserved to be hurt. Or maybe there was someone. As he saw Mr Blanchot coming up from the stairs with a furious gaze, Alexander raised up on his chair, feeling suddenly anxious. Until his French teacher appeared in the corridor, he had been able to fake the nonchalance. But, now he just couldn’t anymore. He just couldn’t deceive him. He didn’t care about anybody else. But Mr Blanchot was the only one who decided to believe in him. Alexander didn’t know why though, he was such a disappointment everyday. As his teacher approached him, Alexander felt his heart beat faster. But, surprisingly, Mr Blanchot didn’t even look at him. He went through the door and slapped it with violence behind him. As though he didn’t hear a noise during the fifteen minutes he had been sitting there, he could clearly hear now his French teacher yell from the director’s office. ---- As he entered the office, Léopold Blanchot noticed the presence of the kid’s tutor, his colleague Mr Bryant and the school’s principal. His nostrils shuddered with anger. He faced his superior, two fists knocked on his desk. From his height, he dominated the man with no difficulty. “As I heard from a colleague, you want to expel Alexander?” he said, as a rhetorical question. “Calm down Léopold. Please take a seat and let’s discuss this reasonably.” Demanded the principal. “You want me to calm down, Paul? Do you know how many humiliations this kid had to endure with that horrible man?” said Léopold, pointing Mr Bryant. Mr Bryant suddenly rose up from his chair with irritation. “Did you at least see what that little freak did to my face? Look at my nose!” he shouted, pointing his bleeding nose. “Oh stop it, Bryant! I’m sure you deserved more than that little punch he gave you!” “Principal! How can you let a teacher say such things?” said Bryant, revolted. “Stop it! Both of you calm down!” said the director with authority. “Paul, please. Can we at least discuss this? You can’t let this poor boy return to this dreadful orphanage!” said Léopold. “I’m afraid I can’t do more for that kid, Léopold…”he responded. “He deserves to be expelled, Blanchot. Just look at what he did to a teacher!” said Bryant. “I think we already know what you want, Bryant, so please stay out of it.” Léopold threatened. “Léopold, please calm down. Now, Mr Bryant, please be reassured. You already know that his tutor can’t be responsible of Alexander anymore; he was on probation and broke the rules. And without any tutor, the kid can’t stay in this school. So please calm down and go back to your students.” Said Paul with calm. As soon as Mr Bryant got out of the office, Léopold sat on a chair with weariness. “We have to do something, Paul. I know this kid is not dangerous. He just needs someone to educate him. Look at his grades! That’s the reason why you accepted to let him stay in your school! He’s a genius and you know that.” “I know he is a very smart boy, Léopold. But he has gone too far. Hit a teacher, Léopold. Do you know how bad this is?” “I know, Paul. I surely know that he will never be accepted by another school because of that little punch I’m sure Bryant deserved!” “But, look Léopold, even if I wanted to let him stay here, he couldn’t. He can’t have a tutor anymore, it won’t be accepted. And I can’t let a kid stay in the dorms without a tutor, it’s not legal!” “But I refuse to give up on him. He is a good kid, Paul. I’m sure he just needs someone to be there for him. He is a child, for god’s sake! How can we abandon a child that easily? A kid with such a bright future…” Léopold turned to the tutor who didn’t open his mouth during the whole meeting. “I would like to help you, but it’s not my decision here. Alexander broke the rules. Too many rules. The only thing he has left is the orphanage. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is…” he said, sorry. “No! That can’t be his only option! I refuse to tell that brilliant kid that he has to be sent back to the orphanage. He needs someone, Paul.” Léopold begged. His colleague and friend looked at him with sympathy, yet disbelief. But suddenly, the tutor’s eyes twinkled. “If you really want to help him, there might be a solution…” said the tutor. “Tell us, please!” Léopold shouted with hope. ---- When Alexander saw his horrible maths teacher coming out from the principal’s office, he felt his fists clenching again. His eyes burning, he confronted him with pride. He confronted his teacher’s despiteful gaze with coldness. “You should enjoy your last minutes here, Alexander. You will return to your original place soon. And it will be a relief for everyone.” Bryant said with a smile. The presence of his French teacher three foots from him convinced Alexander that it was not a good idea to respond. He held back his rage, closing his eyes. Mr Bryant left him with his frustration. ---- “Well, the only way to let Alexander stay in school is the adoption.” The tutor said prudently. “The adoption?” said Léopold, not sure how to understand this. “Yes. This is the only solution I can think of. Nobody wants to adopt a thirteen years old with violence issues… But you could.” “What are you saying?” Léopold said, in shock. “I’m saying that if you really want to help him, you could adopt him. But, I understand why you wouldn’t… He’s really not easy to deal with. Seriously, who would like to take care of a disturbed kid like Alexander?” the tutor asked. Léopold looked at the tutor with disappointment, then turned away to face his colleague. “Paul, I need to know if you would let him stay if I knew someone who could take care of the kid. Please.” “Léopold… Are you sure you want to go this far?” asked the director, understanding who was that “someone”. “Just answer the question, please.” “I don’t really decide you know… He would still have to go to disciplinary committee. I can support him, but I’m not the only one to take the decision. If you really decide to do this, Léo, you have to prepare a really good speech… It won’t be easy.” The principal advised. “I know. But I just can’t turn the back from my beliefs. He is a good kid, I’m positive about it. I just can’t give up on him.” “He has to be okay with it too, you know.” Said the tutor. “I know. We’ll see what he feels about it. But I need to know that you will support him during the committee too. I’m begging you. You know Alexander deserves to be at school.” “Yes, I will. But, you should be prepared, Mr Blanchot… He is not so easy to deal with, you know…” the tutor said. “Maybe he is not, but he still needs to be taken care of. Whatever he does, he’s still a kid.” Léopold said, serious. ---- After another hour, Alexander was still waiting in the corridor, anxious. Was it that complicated to expel him from school? Why was it so long? As he was gnawing his nails with apprehension, the door opened on his French teacher. “Come in, please.” Said Mr Blanchot with a serious gaze. As he stood up, the teen felt a pinch in his bladder. He had waited so long on this chair. He had to pee badly. But he couldn’t go right now, unfortunately… Entering the room, he noticed the principal’s annoyed gaze and his tutor’s tired one. “Seat down, Alexander.” said the principal. Seating down, he faced the three men, looking serious and apprehensive. Why they were apprehensive, he didn’t know. “You overtook the limits today, Alexander. What you did to Mr Bryant is inexcusable.” The principal said. “I don’t know if you realise the chance you have to be in this school. And if you realise how much we are trying to let you stay here, despite your faults.” “You are not kicking me out?” Alexander asked, surprised. “I’m not saying that you won’t. But there might be an alternative to your return to the orphanage.” “What? I won’t have to go back there?” the teen asked with hope. “Leopold, you want to explain it to him?” proposed the principal, turning towards his colleague. His French teacher seemed a bit nervous. He had never seen him nervous before. He was such a strict man usually, so proud and confident. “After what you did today, no tutor can take care of you anymore. You would have to go back to the orphanage. But, we might have a solution… I proposed myself to take care of you from now on.” Mr Blanchot said. “What..?” Alexander said, incredulous. “I would be adopting you. You would be in my charge. That way, you have a big chance to stay in school.” “You would adopt me…” the teen repeated, lost. “Yes, I would adopt you. You would be living with me, in my house, under my rules.” “You really want to adopt me?” he asked, in shock. “Yes, I do. But, the question is: do you prefer to stay with me or go back to the orphanage? Because I can tell you that this kind of behaviour will never be accepted with me, Alexander.” He said, with authority. “Of course, I want to stay here! But I don’t deserve it…” “What you deserve is a spank on your bum, kid. And I don’t think you would find someone who will treat you as a kid back there.” “I’m not a kid anymore.” Grunted Alexander, bushing as Mr Blanchot mentioned a spank. “Oh yes, you are, my boy. And you need to be treated that way. Believe me; it won’t be easy to be living with your French teacher.” He responded, a little smile on his face. “Now, Alexander, we will let you talk with Mr Blanchot. By five, we need to know your answer about the adoption. You have to think about it seriously, it’s a really important decision in your life. But, just so you know, you won’t stay unpunished for what you did today. If you decide to stay here, you will have to pay for what you did to Mr Bryant.” the principal said. Alexander lowered his head, feeling stupid. “Come with me now.” Said his French teacher. As they left the office, Alexander felt his heart beat fast. He could not believe of what was happening to him. The man he admired the most was willing to adopt him… He suddenly remembered his full bladder and was happy to be behind the adult. He couldn’t resist putting a hand on his crotch, trying not to leak in his briefs. He really had to pee now… But he couldn’t dare asking for the loo. He was a big boy, he could hold it. At least he convinced himself that he could… ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 Léopold and Alexander entered in an office, full of books, papers and stuff everywhere. When he saw French titles on most of the books, Alexander knew he was in Mr Blanchot’s office. It was the perfect image of an organized chaos. So many books everywhere, on the floor, on the desk, on the walls. Some paintings and black and white pictures were hanging on the walls as well. It was full of humanity, full of light. And somewhat, it was contrasting with his teacher’s strict mood. With a white long hand, Blanchot invited his student to sit on a chair, in front of his desk, while he seated on his own chair. Separated by the wooden desk, Alexander felt reassured. He could easily hold back his pee without being seen. Or at least he thought. His elbows on the table, his hands reunited together against his delicate chin, the French teacher took a very long and serious gaze at the teenager. Obviously, the kid was not feeling at ease. His legs nervously crossed, his elusive glance, his trembling hands were showing his intimidation. It was surprising, even after what happened. Léopold had always seen the kid being insolent and proud at anytime. Maybe Alexander was being reluctant to the adoption idea? The teacher felt a pinch of hurt inside. He didn’t know why. After all, it happened so fast! He never wanted to be a parent before. Then, why was the idea of adopting Alexander so natural? And how come he felt so sad about the possible kid’s refusal? Looking at Alexander’s apparent dread, Léopold decided to let his emotions aside. “I think you already realized that what you did today was completely irresponsible. Whatever you decide to do with your life, you will still have to go and apologize, kid. Is that understood?” he asked, strict. “Yes, sir. But… He really said mean things to me. He deserved to be punched, believe me!” Alexander said angrily, with a tear in the eye. Before the teen discreetly vanished it with his hand, his teacher had noticed his tear. “I can imagine what this horrible man said to you Alexander. And believe me; I won’t let him forget it. But you are the kid. He is the adult, and the teacher. Even if he deserves a punch in the nose, you are not in the position to do it.” The teacher said, understanding. “Nobody does anything… How can I defend myself if I can’t do anything and nobody cares?” the teen asked, his burning face looking the floor. “You really think nobody cares?” Léopold asked, with a little laugh. “What do you think I’m doing then? I’m getting in trouble with the principal for you, kid. I compromise my career because I believe you deserve to be heard. Do you even realize how hard I try for you?” he continued, his voice raising. “Why do you do it if it’s that hard?” the teen replied, insolent. “Here we are, you put your little brat mask again. But, you’re not lucky with me, it doesn’t work. You cry for help, kid, and I see it. So stop this little game with me or I will get really mad. And believe me, you don’t want to.” Léopold threatened, “If you want to know, I care for you because I think you deserve it. You are a child, and you should know the comfort of living as one. Now you have the choice, boy.” He continued, softly. “What choice?” asked Alexander, lost. “You can go back to the orphanage, uneducated but as the proud little brat you play. Or you can come home with me as the kid you should be, but you will have to let your little mask away. That is your choice, Alexander.” The teacher said, preoccupied by Alexander’s nervous hands. “I don’t know. Can I… Can I get out, sir?” the teen asked, desperate to pee. He was in such a bad situation right now. Facing the man he admired the most, he couldn’t admit the horrible state he was in. He couldn’t tell him that he was so close to having an accident in his pants. His bladder was so heavy that any movement made him feel on the urge to explode. His legs crossed under the table, he couldn’t hold back his hands from his crotch. He had to grip his penis, harder and harder, otherwise he would let some drops of pee fall in the back of his briefs. He didn’t know how much time he could wait… He couldn’t even concentrate on what his teacher was saying. He was obsessed by his desperation. “Are you kidding me, Alexander?” asked his teacher, incredulously, “Do you realize how bad this situation is? You want to get out and play with your friends like nothing happened, is that it?” he screamed, furious, “It’s too late, kid! Now, you are going to take your responsibility! You are going to listen to me, and take your decision. It’s a life decision you’re taking, realize it!” he continued, harder. Alexander felt his heart beat faster. His teacher didn’t know how much the teen was intimidated by him. The kid knew exactly how bad the situation was. Perhaps as bad as his desperation was… “I’m sorry, sir. That’s not what I meant.” He said, shaking. “Then focus, kid. Bryant is waiting for you to be out of here, and if you want to change that, you will have to put some effort too. You won’t get out of this office until we talked about all this, is that clear?” Léopold said, serious. “Yes, sir…” he replied, slumping on his chair, trying to hide his nervous legs. “And sit up straight, for god’s sake!” his teacher screamed. As Alexander stood up straight on the chair, he gave up his penis, now in his teacher’s sight. But the second he did, he felt a drop leave his penis and flow at the end of his grey briefs. He crossed his legs even closer, hoping his teacher didn’t notice anything. “Now, do you understand that if you come with me, you will legally be my child?” his teacher asked, serious. “You would be my… dad?” Alexander asked, blushing with hope. “Exactly. What you really have to understand is that I will have every right on you, Alexander. And that mean that these kind of stupid acts will be forbidden and severely punished with me. If you decide the adoption, it will be hard to adjust. Of course, I’m severe, you already know me. But I also want to give you a chance to be happy.” His teacher said, strict. “Oh, no…” the teen moaned, blushing. He suddenly felt a small spurt of pee running on his penis and wetting his briefs. He just couldn’t hold it. He was so desperate to pee now. He had to go! Fortunately, his pants didn’t show anything. He could feel his briefs wet, but his pants were dry. “Are you okay, Alexander? I know, it’s hard to decide. You don’t know how it is to live with me, and I am very strict. But, you have to understand that I want the best for you. I’m not here to make you suffer. I only want to let you be a kid.” “No, I know. It’s not…” he moaned again. He was now doing a pee dance on his chair. He just couldn’t stay still. He felt he was going to let go any second now. “You don’t have to justify, Alexander. It’s completely normal to be afraid. Now, I think it would be good for you to know what will happen in both cases. Maybe, it will help you relax. You shouldn’t be so nervous, kid. I promise, I just want the best for you.” He said, worrying about the teen’s behaviour. The kid looked so frightened. “Sir…” said Alexander, a tear rolling on his burning cheek. He felt another spurt leave his bladder. A long one this time. He felt his pee rolling along his panty, wetting his bum. In a moan, he put his hand back on his crotch. He was going to have an accident in his pants… His pants didn’t show in the front, but he already knew that on the bottom there was a very noticeable patch of pee. Feeling another spurt of hot pee rolling in his briefs and dripping on the chair, Alexander beat his lower lip, trying desperately to hold his pee back. He felt all wet in his pants. He didn’t know how he would be able to hold any longer now. Another moan left his mouth. He was holding his crotch even harder, not even willing to hide himself from his teacher. It was too late for that. Now he just wanted to escape the inevitable accident in front of him… He took a shameful look at his teacher, scared of his reaction. Another tear rolled, as another small spurt of pee left his penis. “What’s wrong, Alexander?” asked Léopold, disconcerted by the sudden fragility of the boy. “Oh no… Pee…” the teen moaned softly, feeling another small spurt wetting his pants. “Do you need to pee, my boy?” asked gently his teacher, hearing Alexander’s complain. Finally raising his burning head, the kid looked at his teacher with pain. “Yes… I need to pee so bad…” he admitted, ashamed. “Oh boy, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, confuse. “Ah… I’m gonna pee myself, sir!” Alexander complained, legs shaking badly. Léopold rose up from his chair and went to his student in quick steps. “Let’s get you to the bathroom before you have an accident in your pants.” He said with authority. He didn’t want to move. He knew his teacher would see his soaked pants… His teacher would see that the school’s bad boy just couldn’t hold his pee. How would Mr Blanchot still want to adopt him after that? He was so mad at himself. He wanted to hide, disappear from this office. He couldn’t face the disgust in his teacher’s look. “Come on, kid. You don’t want to pee in your pants, do you?” his teacher asked, softly. The teen couldn’t hide anymore… He had to show his humiliating accident to his favourite teacher. He tried to think of an issue, but there was none. He had to face his shame. As Alexander got up, he felt another long spurt leaving his full bladder, dripping in his pants. Moaning, he felt another tear roll. He was so ashamed. He was having an accident in front of his French teacher… He couldn’t hold a small sob leaving his throat. Léopold couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The boy had already peed his pants. He was in such a shock that he couldn’t hold his surprise. “Your pants are completely wet! Did you already pee your pants, kid?” he asked, confused. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it…” the teen answered, in a long sob. “Come on, then.” Léopold said, in a hurry. He took firmly the shaking boy by the arm and almost ran through the corridor, willing to prevent a bigger accident. Alexander was holding his penis with pain. He was losing some drops of pee every foot he was walking. Finally arrived to the toilets, Alexander was happy that everybody was in class. His teacher opened a door, still holding his arm. Pushing him softly into the toilet stall, he left him alone and closed the door. “I’m waiting for you outside.” His teacher said, strictly. Alexander was not even able to let go his hands from his crotch. He felt that if he let his hands go, he wouldn’t be able to hold it. Another spurt came out, dripping along his legs, wetting his socks. In a moan, he swore. He was such a kid. How come he couldn’t hold it at his age? The pressure was so hard… His bladder was hurting badly now. He had to stop dancing like a child and open his trousers. He had to regain control on his body. He was not going to pee his pants! He was not a child! As he let go his crotch, he felt another long spurt go and wet all the front of his clear blue jeans. He tried to open the first button with great difficulty, but when he finally managed to do it, it was too late. The teenager felt a succession of long spurts of pee wetting his whole pants, with noise. A puddle of pee was growing at his feet. Even when he tried to grasp his penis again, the flow didn’t stop. He had lost total control of his bladder. His pants were darkened by pee, and he couldn’t hide from anyone that he just had an accident. Mostly, he couldn’t hide it from himself. Alexander suddenly felt so mad at himself. He couldn’t believe he had an accident just at that time. Just when his dream was becoming true. Now nobody, and mostly not Mr Blanchot, would be willing to be his dad. His tears were burning his already red cheeks. He was so angry that he didn’t even realize that he was punching the wall with violence. “Fuck… Fuck… FUCK!” he yelled, blinded by the anger. He didn’t even hear his teacher coming back to the bathroom. Nor even did he heard him open the door of the cabin. Nor even did he saw his teacher looking at him with worry, sincere worry. When he saw the boy, soaked, in his own puddle of pee, Léopold felt very sad for him at first. Then he realized what the boy was doing to himself… Punching the wall in front of him, the boy was grazing his fists with pure anger. When he heard the boy scream from the corridor, he knew that he didn’t make it. But never would he have thought that Alexander would react with such violence against himself. Léopold entered the cabin, and firmly catch the boy’s arms. “Stop it, Alexander.” He said softly. “Let go of me!” the teen screamed, trying to evade his teacher’s grip. “I won’t.” the man replied. “Stop it! Don’t look at me!” the boy cried. “I am looking at you, kid. And I won’t stop. Now, calm down.” Léopold said gently. “Please. Let me go.” Begged Alexander, sobbing. The French teacher released the boy’s hands, just to lure him to his own chest. The man’s arms were embracing the boy with tenderness. “Please, let me go.” Repeated the boy, punching his teacher’s chest. “I won’t let you go.” Replied Léopold. Soon the punches were replaced by long and uncontrollable sobs. Alexander couldn’t stop crying. These arms were all he needed. Since always. He relaxed so much that he didn’t even realize his own arms grasping his teacher’s sweater. He needed someone to save him for so long now. “It’s over now, kid. I won’t let you go.” Léopold said, softly. He felt he couldn’t let the kid go. For the boy. But also for him. Léopold already knew at that moment that he couldn’t let Alexander go, whatever decision he would take. “I’m sorry…” cried Alexander. “It’s okay, my boy. You just had an accident; it happens. Now it’s over.” “I didn’t want to pee my pants. I tried, I swear…” the teen said, in a sob. “I know, kid. Next time, just ask me for the loo before you go in your panties. It’s always better to pee in the toilet instead of your pants, isn’t it?” Leopold said, gently. “I’m sorry. I thought I could hold it.” Alexander murmured, grasping even harder his teacher’s back. “Stop apologising, Alexander. It’s over now. I’m sure we will find dry pants at the infirmary, then we’ll continue our conversation before you take your final decision.” Reassured the man. Ruffling the boy’s curled hair, the teacher could feel Alexander calming down. The sobs were more and more distant. But the boy’s head was more and more sunk into his chest. “I don’t need to discuss more… Please be my dad.” The teen said nervously. Léopold’s ruffle suddenly stopped. He just couldn’t believe Alexander’s words. He was going to be a dad. His dad. “Don’t think that we are done talking just because you took your decision, my boy.” The teacher said. But the authority wasn’t even here. He was too happy at that moment to play the teacher. Now, he was already a dad. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 3 (Here it is, finally! (:) After a moment, Leopold and Alexander broke the embrace, not without a little regret. The boy was looking at his shoes, trying to hide his red and wet face. He was ashamed of his lack of control. He didn’t manage to hold neither his pee nor his tears from getting out… Léopold himself had almost forgot about the accident for a moment. The boy’s wet pants made him realized how embarrassed his student should feel. “Come on, boy. Let’s go to the infirmary, I’m sure we can find some trousers for you.” The teacher said while putting an arm around the boy’s shoulders. They cross the empty hallway and tumbled down the stairs to the infirmary. Alexander was hiding himself against his teacher in fear to meet a student. He couldn’t bare the idea of someone spreading all around the school that he peed his pants. Everybody would see that he was not the rebel he claimed to be. Hopefully, nobody came across. As they entered the room, Leopold almost smiled thinking that it would be the first time the nurse would see Alexander coming in here because of a pee accident and not because of his usual wounds of fights. But as soon as the nurse saw Alexander’s state, she immediately crossed over her desk and took the boy to the other room in an accustomed and indifferent attitude. Leopold was surprised by her professional behaviour, she reacted as she was confronted to that kind of incidents every day. After his first surprise, Leopold was thankful that she didn’t make any difference between students. He waited a few minutes alone before the nurse came back with Alexander in a pair of clean jeans. Before she came behind her desk again, she said gently to the boy: “I’ll see you again soon, Alexander”. “Thank you, Laura” said Leopold before taking the boy out. He kept wondering why she was that kind to Alexander when she had to take care of his anger issues and several injuries almost every week. But he thought it was not the time for questions, and brought the boy back to his office. While he was about to go back to his seat, Alexander suddenly stopped his movement. He had forgot about the little puddle of pee stagnating on the chair. His teacher reacted immediately and brought out a rag out a cupboard and hurried to wipe the rests of the accident. “I’m so sorry…” murmured the boy, shamefully. “Don’t worry about it anymore, boy. As I already told you, accidents happen.” Leopold replied softly, “Now sit, please. We still have some things to figure out and we don’t have much time.” He continued, looking at his watch. Leopold served himself and Alexander a glass of water before seating back to his own chair. He gave the boy a serious gaze. “As you know already, you have to give the headmaster your final answer by 5. So, I repeat the question: Are you sure you want me to be your guardian ?” the teacher asked, seriously. “Yes, I’m sure. Are you?” said the teen, looking back into his teacher’s eyes. “I am sure.” He answered with a smile. “You will come into my house tomorrow, after the end of class. Tonight you will have to get all your stuff ready to move out. Is that okay with you so far?” he asked. “Yes.” Alexander said. “Good. We don’t have much time to talk about the rules and the rights while you will be under my full authority. But, there is one thing to know already: the absolute rule is when I say no, it is NO. Don’t even try to exceed or break this rule or you will be severely punished. Is that clear?” Asked the teacher with a threatening voice. “Yes, it is clear.” Answered softly Alexander, with a point of fear in his voice. “Good. Tomorrow we will have more time to discuss, I promise. However, if you already worry about the possible dissension between us living together – maybe you will prefer the orphanage after facing my severity –, you will have one month try before deciding if you want to stay or not. Nevertheless, during this month you will be under my guard, fully and completely. Understood?” asked Leopold “Yes, sir.” Answered Alexander. “Alright, then. If you think about any question at all, or any request, write them down tonight and we will discuss it tomorrow night, at home.” The teacher said, more kindly. As Alexander heard his teacher saying “home” he felt a sudden heat in his stomach. He would discover a home, a real home. He could feel the corners of his mouth raising slowly on the cheeks. Leopold felt a real joy noticing the boy’s smile. He realised that he wanted to see it every day. He let Alexander lost himself in his thoughts for a few seconds, but he had to break the sudden joy... They went to the headmaster’s office to officialise their arrangement. Alexander’s tutor was there too. He seemed happy to know that the boy was going to know an other home than the orphanage. And he was also happy for himself… He wouldn’t have to be ruled by Alexander’s terrible temperament any longer. He promised to be at Leopold’s house tomorrow night with the adoption’s contract. Alexander was going to stay in school until his disciplinary audience, planed for a couple of weeks from today. It was around six o’clock when Leopold and Alexander left the office. They looked at each other with an intrigued gaze. They were both different from now on. Alexander was not just a student anymore. Leopold was not just a teacher anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boy. Have a good night.” Said Leopold with a little embarrassment. “Yeah… Good night, professor.” Said Alexander, even more embarrassed. As Alexander went back to his room, he couldn’t realize this was his last night here. He suddenly felt emotional. He dreamt so many times to get out of here. And now it was finally his last night… He couldn’t fall asleep this night. He had too much in his mind. His head was full of questions. How was it going to be? Would his teacher be happy with him? And would he be happy with his teacher? The day after, Alexander was very tired. He didn’t sleep much and couldn’t focus on his classes. He couldn’t wait to discover his new home. But in the same time, he was feeling frightened. And all the questions his comrades asked him all day about the accident with Mr. Bryant the day before were beginning to try his patience… During French class, he couldn’t look at his teacher. He was petrified by Mr. Blanchot’s gaze. He could feel his heart beat strong, and his face was constantly blushing. His best friends looked at him with curiosity. Alexander never showed any trouble before, he was usually so proud and strong. And when his best friend Ben asked him what was going on, Alex refused to answer. At the end of classes, the boy didn’t even say goodbye and rushed out of class in silence, despite his friends calling after him. He didn’t know where to wait for his teacher and decided to go to his office. It took him a few seconds before knocking on the door. Mr. Blanchot opened to him with a smile. “Are you ready to go? Shall we get your stuff and go home?” the teacher asked. “Yes, let’s go.” Answered Alexander, timidly. Léopold was surprised by the small amount of luggage the boy had. Alexander clearly had nothing. The teacher took the small suitcase in his hand and they went to the parking. The drive home was almost silent. Alexander answered his teacher’s questions only by a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. He felt completely shut off. Mr. Blanchot lived in a quiet area, not far from the centre of the town. He parked in front of a lovely little house. It looked like a little cottage. Alexander could feel warmer just by looking at its façade. It was hard for him to believe that it was going to become his home. Léopold got out of the car and invited the boy, who seemed statued on his seat. “Come on, it’s cold outside.” The teacher said gently. The boy followed the man, mechanically. He couldn’t believe it was really happening. His teacher showed him the entire house, ending the tour by the boy’s room. If the house looked already warm and cosy, it was his bedroom that impressed Alexander the most. It was a simple room with a large bed, a spacious desk and many bookshelves. In the middle of the room was a big red carpet that seemed so mellow and comfortable. There was a window overlooking a small flowery garden. “Here is your room. There is not much in it, but we have plenty of time to decorate it to your taste.” The teacher said. “Do you like it?” he asked, a bit anxious. “It’s amazing…” said the boy, stunned. “I… I never thought I would ever have a real room like that. Thank you, sir.” He continued, suddenly feeling emotional. “I’m happy you like it. You should unpack your bag and make yourself at home. I’m going to prepare us a snack. And, by the way… Try not to call me sir in here. I’m not your teacher in this house. You can call me Léopold, or Leo if you like.” His teacher said while leaving the room. The boy took some time to look all around, looking in every corners. The room was so warm, so welcoming. He finally unpacked his clothes to put them in the commode. He hesitated for a moment. He had to find his teacher downstairs, in the kitchen. He was not feeling at ease to go through a house that was not his, not yet. But he seemed to be the only one to feel troubled because Léopold welcomed his student with a large smile. He was setting the table. “Come and sit. Do you like pancakes?” Léopold asked. “Yes, I love it.” The boy answered, feeling suddenly calmer. Léopold joined Alexander and they start to eat. First, they were silent, but it didn’t last long. “Why did you punch Mr. Bryant yesterday?” the teacher asked suddenly. “He said horrible things to me, I just couldn’t let him insult me that way. I don’t regret it if that’s what you’re wondering.” The boy replied, harshly. “I won’t talk about this incident in the future, because I think we need to start fresh. But, you need to understand that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable. If that happens again, you will regret it this time, trust me. » he said, severely. “Yes, sir.” They were interrupted by someone knocking on the door. The orphanage tutor was coming to make them sign the adoption’s contract. Léopold didn’t hesitate a second and signed the papers quickly. But Alexander felt his hands shaking while taking the pen. He soon felt a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to be afraid.” His teacher said, reassuring. The boy suddenly calmed down. He could feel that everything was going to be okay from now on. As soon as the kid’s tutor went away, Léopold put the boy to work. The teacher himself sat down back at the table and opened his laptop to work on his own homework. It was weird for Alexander to be working with his teacher by his side. It was comfortable. Leopold looked over the boy’s shoulder from time to time, he was checking that Alexander was doing his work. When the boy finished his exercises, the teacher asked him to hand over his work. “I don’t need you to check my homework, sir. I’m 14 years’ old you know.” The boy said. “4 or 14 years’ old, I check your homework. It’s not about your age, Alexander. You are under my responsibility, and as so, I will overlook your homework. End of discussion.” The teacher replied. Alexander handed over his exercise books and his homework notebook, not without a certain anxiety. He was a brilliant student, but completely disorganized. The adult went rapidly through the books and closed them. “It’s okay for tonight, it’s late. But I notice that you could improve in maths and history. On the other hand, in English and in French it’s good. We’ll talk about the state of your books another time.” He said, giving the books back to Alexander. He noticed the boy’s hands shaking a little bit. Léopold immediately put a warm hand on his student arm. “Put your books away, and come sit a second.” The teacher demanded softly. “It’s all right, boy. You don’t have to fear anything. » he continued as the boy sat in front of him. “I’m sorry… I’m not used to… all that…” the boy replied, confused. “I know. It will take some time, but I know it’s all going to be fine.” Said the man. “Yeah.” replied Alexander, standing up hastily. He was not used to the constant support his teacher was giving him. The boy suddenly wanted to crawl under the sofa, where no one could notice him. “Can I go to my room?” he asked, wanted to hide. “Sure, go ahead. I will prepare dinner and I’ll call you when it’s ready.” The man answered. They ate silently. The boy was shutting himself again. He needed time to feel legitimate to be here. He was so used to being alone. How could it be right to be here? His teacher must have understood what was going into the boy’s mind because he didn’t break the silence. When they both finished their plate, the adult started to clear the table, and noticed that the boy didn’t dare to move. “Go and brush your teeth and put your pyjamas on. You are allowed to read until 10 p.m., then sleep.” Alexander wanted to protest, but he didn’t dare to do so. He never went to sleep that early! It was 8 o’clock and he was going to sleep… What a change! As the boy was reading one of his favourite book, Harry Potter, he heard someone knocking softly on his door. “Yes?” he invited despite his feeling of embarrassment. “It’s 10 p.m., Alexander. It’s time to go to sleep.” The adult said softly while coming up to the bed. The boy didn’t understand why his teacher was coming up to him before Léopold sat on his bed, before he tucked him up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Good night, dear boy.” Léopold said. “Good night.” The teen replied, bushing. When the teacher left the room, Alexander suddenly felt terribly embarrassed, and in the same time, he felt a bit sad that his teacher already left. ‘Dear boy”! Nobody has ever called him that. Never. Weirdly, it was so soft to hear. The boy finally fell asleep half an hour later. This day had been emotionally rich, and he felt quite happy to be put in bed this early. The morning after, Alexander was not woken up by an horrible ringtone but by his teacher. The boy didn’t hear him coming into the room, but he could hear Léopold whispering softly to his hear: “It’s time to wake up, my boy”. After a few minutes, Alexander opened his eyes and finally realized that he was in his teacher’s house. His teacher looked at him with gentleness. But not only. There was some kind of worry in his gaze. At that moment, Alexander realized that his pyjamas were soaking wet. How did it happen? He couldn’t have wet the bed! He suddenly felt his cheeks burning with shame. His eyes began to get wet as well. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” The boy said with tears. “You wet your bed. But it’s all right, it happens. You want to tell me why it happened?” asked his teacher softly. “…” “You couldn’t remember where the toilets are? Or maybe you were afraid to go there alone in the dark?” Léopold asked. “No! I don’t know… I didn’t feel anything. It was an accident, sir. I didn’t mean to do it.” Said the boy in a sob. “All right, all right, my boy. It’s okay. It can happen to anyone to have a little accident, there’s no need to cry. » his teacher replied, gently. Léopold wiped the boy’s tears with his hands in the biggest sweetness. But the boy moved back, suspicious. He was definitely not used to his teacher’s tenderness. “I’ll let you get up and clean yourself. Leave the bed that way, I’ll take care of it. Breakfast is ready downstairs.” Said the teacher, getting up and leaving the room. “Thank you… Léopold.” The boy replied. The adult turned back at him and smiled. At that time, the boy knew he had taken the good decision. He knew Mr. Blanchot was the one. He was only worrying that Léopold would change his mind… Maybe his teacher was having doubts now. If Mr. Blanchot accepted to be his ‘dad’, it certainly was because Alexander was not a child anymore and that he wouldn’t have to deal with childish things. But now? Would the bedwetting made him change his mind? Alexander was blaming himself for wetting the bed… Why did he peed himself? He thought he needed to apologize, to move out the sheets quickly. He wanted to deal with it as if he was still alone. He couldn’t bare the idea of disappointing Mr. Blanchot. He couldn’t bear the idea of being a burden. He quickly stood up, disgusted by the pee all over his bottom. He took his wet sheets, lifted the bed and turned it back. He opened the window to air the room and ran to the bathroom to take a shower. He took more time to wash his sheets and pyjamas than himself… As he was wringing the sheets, he heard his teacher calling him. “Alexander! Come eat your breakfast, we’re going to be late for school!” “I’m coming!” answered the teen. The boy got out of the bathroom after checking that everything was in its place. He quickly went to his room to hang out the sheets on the window before coming to the kitchen. He discovered a table full of different things: cereals, fresh bread, pancakes, and different sorts of jam. “Sit down. What would you like to eat?” asked the teacher. “Er… I usually don’t eat in the morning.” The teen answered. « Well, kid, I’m warning you, breakfast is sacred in this house and therefore mandatory.” Replied the adult, threatening. “All right… I’ll take a pancake then.” Said Alexander while grabbing a pancake and spread some strawberry jam over it. Léopold pour some orange juice in two glasses and hand one to the boy before sitting in front of him and buttered some slices of fresh bread. He then dipped his bread into a mug of smoking coffee. “You really are French!” said Alexander, looking at his teacher’s breakfast. “Haha! Yes, I am!” Léopold replied in a smile. “When you’ll eat my aunt’s pain perdu, you will understand why.” he continued. “You’re thinking of taking me to France one day?” the teen asked, already excited. ‘It will be your gift for your trial period. If you decide to stay here, of course.” The adult replied while filling the boy’s glass with orange juice. “Stop making me drink or I’ll explode!” the teen said, already regretting his words. He had almost forgotten last night’s accident. He suddenly felt his cheeks turning red. Léopold must have noticed it because he smiled gently. “I’m going to change your sheets before we go. Finish your breakfast.” Said Léopold while standing up. “There’s no need to… I washed my sheets under the shower and hanged them out on the window.” The teen answered in a rustle while lowering his head. “Pardon me?” asked his teacher, confused. “I… I didn’t want to make you did it. So, I did it. » Léopold sat next to him and looked at the boy insistently. “We have a washing machine, you know. I showed you the laundry yesterday night.” The teacher said with incomprehension. « I… I forgot. » the boy said, lying. “Ah. You forgot.” Said Léopold, laconically. Suddenly, Alexander saw his teacher standing up and come crouching very next to him. He could feel the man taking softly his chin in his hand. The boy couldn’t look at him. His heart was beating too hard. He felt afraid of his teacher’s gaze. He was not ready for all that. But it seemed that Mr. Blanchot was going to oblige him… The boy didn’t even try to get out of his teacher’s grip, he knew he would lose anyway. He was feeling like a marionette. “Look at me, boy.” Léopold ordered. The second Alexander looked at the man, he couldn’t help but avoid the gaze. He was not feeling capable to sustain that gaze. He was trying, but it was like his pupils were burning at the contact of his teacher’s eyes. He felt like crying now. « Didn’t I tell you to leave your bed as it was this morning?” Léopold asked softly. The boy shrugged his shoulders, shaking. « This is not your role to deal with this things, Alexander. You are the kid and I am the adult. You have to understand that you are not lonely anymore. Do you understand?” he continued. Alexander couldn’t answered. He didn’t know what to reply. “It’s not by hiding your wet sheets that you will manage to hide the very fact that you are a child, my boy.” The man pursued. That was it; Alexander could feel a tear rolling on his cheek. “I am here to take care of you. I’m here to worry, to comfort you, to take you in my arms when you have an accident, to give you a spank when you do stupid things. I am here.” Léopold said while drying Alexander’s second tear. « I… I just wanted it to be over… I wanted to forget… » the boy said with a lump in his throat. The teen could feel he was losing control, again. He started to cry like a child. As Léopold softly ordered Alexander to come into his arms, the boy felt diving into them. ‘I’m crying on my teacher’s shoulder because I peed my bed. What a regression…’ thought the boy. He wanted to break the embrace. He wanted to say no! But he felt completely incapable of doing so. He was losing himself in his new dad’s arms. Alexander could feel his teacher’s arms holding him tight, one hand softly caressing his back. He could hear Mr. Blanchot rasping voice repeating “I am here, boy. Calm down”. After a few minutes, Alexander’s sobs calmed down. Little by little, Léopold released the boy from his embrace. “I’m sorry.” Finally said the teen. “What are you sorry for, my boy?” the man asked gently. “For crying. And… to have wet the bed…” the boy answered, shamefully. “You don’t have to apologize. You have the right to cry, my boy. And about the bedwetting, you must not feel guilty. As I already said to you, accidents happen. It is not your fault. Understood?” the man said, serious. The boy nodded while sniffling. He felt like crap. He was not as strong as he thought he was. But he also realized that being incapable when someone gives you a hand was sometimes comforting….
  21. male

    “Manny, Manny, get up! Sheila made pancakes!” Manny bit back a groan as his 6-year-old sister’s voice pulled him out of unsettled sleep. Groggy, he pushed the corners of his mouth upward. “OK, Livvy,” he croaked. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Olivia beamed and dashed back to the kitchen, satisfied in the way that only an adoring little sister could be with her 16-year-old brother’s sleepy response. With Olivia gone, Manny let out an exhausted growl. He reached for his phone: 7:46 AM. His alarm had been set for 8, which meant that Liv had effectively robbed him of 14 whole minutes of much-needed sleep. But staying with his sister mattered more than sleep… Dragging his feet slightly, Manny threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and shuffled out of his room. In the kitchen, Olivia was already stuffing a forkful of pancakes into her mouth. A curly-haired woman was in the process of setting another plateful at the table. She glanced up at Manny with a hesitant, unsure smile. Sheila Temple was a 35-year-old college professor. She was single and lived in a moderately-sized apartment. She loved her job. Though she liked kids, she’d never had a strong desire to marry or have children of her own. And, as of one week ago, she was the temporary caregiver of Manny and Olivia. Sheila’s sister, Sam, was a typically overburdened social worker. The city had too many children in need and too few foster and adoptive families. Sam had been assigned to Manny and Olivia’s case when a waitress had found them digging through a restaurant dumpster. The responding authorities, understandably, wouldn’t leave Olivia without shelter, and Manny, also understandably, wouldn’t leave his sister. No foster families had immediate space for two minors, and the nearby children’s homes weren’t set up to keep siblings with such a wide age discrepancy. “Please, Sheila,” Sam had begged on the phone. “Just for a little bit, while we find a more permanent place for them, track down extended family. You have a spare room, and you’re a professor of child development, for God’s sake!” Sheila hadn’t acquiesced easily. Yes, she had a PhD in child development, but she’d never been fully responsible for children on a day-to-day basis, much less children who (as she learned) had been chased out of their house by their drug-addicted father’s steak-knife-wielding girlfriend. Sheila was definitely not equipped to support that kind of traumatic experience. And yet here she was, setting a plate of pancakes on the kitchen table for a 16-year-old boy who had barely spoken to her for a week, but who clearly adored and would do anything for the 6-year-old girl sitting across from him. Olivia, at least, seemed to settle fairly well. Manny had obviously done a lot of work to make her feel safe, no matter where they were, so the little girl had taken him at his word when he promised that Sheila was nice and would take care of them. Sheila sighed quietly. Kids were easy, she thought. Teenagers were hard. Not that Manny was difficult, per se; Sheila just wasn’t sure how to interact with the young man. Today, however, that was on the agenda. It was Saturday, and Olivia was going to a Daisy Scout field trip for most of the day, so it would just be Manny and Sheila in the apartment. Manny had the barest of smiles on his face as he listened to his sister’s excited chatter, and Sheila couldn’t help but notice how wan he looked. Was he getting sick? The thought was interrupted by the buzz of the outer door chime. The local scout mother had arrived to pick up Liv. The girl squealed with excitement, wrapped her arms around Manny for a quick hug, then grabbed her jacket and followed Sheila outside. With his sister gone for the day and Sheila gone for a minute, Manny whined softly and rested his forehead in his hands. He was so tired. SO tired. Manny’s alarm hadn’t just been set for 8 o’clock. It had been set for 7, and 6, and every hour on the hour before that, just like he’d done all week. He couldn’t afford to let himself sleep, not in this nice place that was keeping his sister safe. If he slept, he’d wet the bed. Manny didn’t have a long history of bedwetting, but since everything that had happened over the past year with his father’s behavior and the new girlfriend and trying to keep Livvy safe, the stress had manifested into near-nightly issues. It was a big part of what had angered his dad’s girlfriend so much. He and Liv had only spent a couple of nights on the street before they’d been found, and he’d been so scared that he hadn’t slept those nights, anyway. Now, at Sheila’s, he wasn’t staying awake to protect his sister. Not directly, anyway. He was waking himself up every hour to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t wet the bed. 16-year-olds don’t wet the bed, and grown-ups who didn’t even want kids in the first place wouldn’t let bed-wetting 16-year-olds stick around, and that meant either being sent somewhere else – somewhere potentially less safe for Liv – or being separated from his sister entirely. Not an option. So Manny had diligently limited his liquid intake in the evenings and set his alarm for hourly intervals during the night. His system was working, and he hadn’t so much as leaked in bed. But interrupted sleep wasn’t good sleep, and now, Manny was beyond the point of exhaustion. He was so tired, he physically ached. It hurt to keep his eyes open, and he struggled to focus. As much as he hated being away from Liv, he was grateful for the possibility of a relatively quiet day. Maybe just the chance to be quiet and relax would help him feel more rested. Sighing, Manny poured himself a third glass of orange juice from the carafe on the table. Since he stopped drinking long before he went to bed, he’d been waking up very thirsty, and besides, he thought that being full of liquid helped him stay awake during the day. With Olivia safely deposited in the scout mother’s car, Sheila returned to the apartment. She furrowed her brow seeing Manny slumped at the table. “Hey, Manny?” she called gently as she started to clear the table from breakfast. “Are you feeling OK?” “Yes, ma’am,” Manny answered, but his voice was low and scratchy. Sheila looked skeptical, but she didn’t feel like she was in a position to question the boy. She knew she wasn’t a “real mom” or even a foster parent, and anyway, Manny acted a lot older than his 16 years most of the time. He had to, Sheila supposed. Still, she thought she’d at least let Manny know that she didn’t expect anything of him. “Are you sure?” she pressed hesitantly. “You don’t have anything to do today, you know. Why don’t you go back to bed and get some rest?” Manny shuddered at this suggestion and sat up straighter, trying to falsely convey that he wasn’t actually tired. “No, I’m fine,” he insisted. “I thought I’d catch up on some homework.” Unconvinced by the teen’s claim, Sheila nodded nevertheless. “OK. I’ll just be grading papers on the couch if you need me.” She wanted to do more for Manny, she really did. Sheila just had no idea what he wanted or needed, besides the obvious desire to protect his little sister. She did notice that he seemed to like the orange juice, so she refilled the carafe and set it on the table in front of him before going into the living room. Manny collected his schoolwork from the kitchen counter. He valued his education, so he didn’t want the changes of the past few weeks to affect his grades. He had a few chapters to read for his English class and a problem set for algebra to work on, so he settled in at the table got to work. Or tried to get to work. Manny liked English and didn’t automatically dismiss classic novels as “boring,” but the environmental descriptions in Wuthering Heights were difficult to follow in his current, sleep-deprived state. After a half hour of barely making any progress, Manny shook his head in frustration and decided to switch to math. As he closed the novel, he noticed that his bladder was filling. He glanced at his orange juice glass, empty again after his fourth serving. Manny checked his phone; it was just past 9 AM. He decided to work on a few math problems before taking a break. Between the switch in subjects and the mild signals from his bladder, he was feeling more awake, anyway. Manny finished the first two problems in reasonable time and felt a bit better about himself. See? He was fine. He could handle taking care of his sister while still keeping up in school. And keeping the sheets dry in a stranger’s home. It was now almost 9:30, and the third problem was quite a bit more complex. Manny’s attention drifted a bit as he got stuck on a tricky step. Catching himself, he shook his head emphatically, trying to shake off the demanding claws of sleep. He stared again at his worksheet, but the numbers blurred in front of him… …he was breathing easy. It was quiet, the kind of peaceful quiet that wasn’t broken by sirens or the groans of junkies. The colors were soft, and the air didn’t stink of mold and marijuana. It was warm. He was warm. His lap was warm… …it was the localized warmth that jerked Manny out of his unintentional doze. To his utmost horror, he had started to pee; warm liquid was trickling into his lap. Manny couldn’t hold back a strangled cry. He frantically clutched his dick and leapt up from the table. The noise startled Sheila from her grading in the living room. She looked up in time to see Manny hurrying from the kitchen, hand between his legs. She frowned, but didn’t immediately get up, assuming that Manny had just gotten too caught up in his work and hadn’t realized he had to go. In the hallway, Manny stumbled around a corner, bumping into the wall. He was trying to keep his hand gripped in his crotch, but he was still peeing, the wetness creeping down his leg. He lurched through the door of the bedroom, aiming for the bathroom, but his legs weren’t responding like he wanted them to. He felt like he was in a nightmare, the kind where you want to run, but your legs feel like lead. He was just feet from the toilet, but Manny’s exhausted mind and body were no longer working properly. He jerked his torso forward, but his legs seemed rooted to the spot. He could see the bathroom, but he was going on the bedroom floor, hot urine spilling past his ineffective grip. Head spinning, Manny started to cry. He couldn’t process what had just happened – what was still happening. He was still exhausted beyond comprehension. He hadn’t had the energy to get to the toilet, and he certainly didn’t have the mental capacity left to regulate his emotions in the face of such a failure. Back in the living room, Sheila was listening carefully. She was sure Manny had been running to the bathroom, but she hadn’t heard the door shut or the toilet flush. She stood hesitantly. Manny had looked ill; she hoped he hadn’t fallen or passed out. Torn between wanting to give the teen his privacy and her own concern, Sheila ultimately decided to get up and check on him. She still didn’t hear any obvious sounds coming from the bedroom, but as she rounded the corner, she saw Manny standing with his back to the bedroom door. He wasn’t making any noise, but he seemed to be shaking. Confused, Sheila crept closer. “Manny?” The teen inhaled shakily, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her presence. Slowly, Sheila walked around in front of him. Her eyes widened. A huge, dark stain spread down the front of Manny’s jeans, and he stood in a small puddle that was soaking into the carpet. He look simultaneously blank and terrified, and his eyes were oddly unfocused. “Oh, honey,” Sheila breathed. It was the first time she’d ever used an endearment for him. “Did you have an accident?” Manny heard, but couldn’t answer. His vision swam, and he swayed on the spot. “Ooooh-kay,” Sheila reached toward him, grabbing his elbow. “Manny?” she tried to get his attention. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey. It’s OK.” Keeping one hand on his back, Sheila guided Manny into the bathroom. Still unsteady, Manny made no move to start cleaning himself. “Manny?” Sheila repeated. She was starting to worry. “Manny, do you need my help?” Manny’s head jerked back as the implications of Sheila’s words were finally enough to catch his focus. “Nnn…” his throat hurt from tears and weariness, and words wouldn’t come right away. “N-no,” he finally stammered. “I can…” Sheila was more convinced than ever that Manny was sick. She’s make sure he got some rest as soon as he got changed. “OK, honey. I’ll grab you some dry clothes.” Manny braced himself against the sink while Sheila went to the dresser. His head hurt, and his mind was still dragging him forcefully into unconsciousness, but he couldn’t sleep. He had to clean up and clean the carpet, and even if he did allow himself to sleep, he had to make sure he peed first and then set his alarm so he didn’t sleep too long… Sheila was handing him sweatpants and underwear. Manny mumbled his thanks and shut the bathroom door to change. He cringed as he peeled off his drenched jeans and decided to take a quick shower, hoping that the water would both clean him and wake him up enough to clean his mess in the bedroom. He didn’t really feel any more awake after showering. If anything, the white noise of the water emphasized his desire to sleep. When he opened the bathroom door, he looked like a zombie shuffling into the bedroom. Seeing Manny’s blank, drawn look, Sheila reached for him. “Come on, Manny,” she pleaded, pulling him toward the bed. “You need some rest, honey, you’ll feel better.” Manny groaned unintelligibly. He couldn’t sleep. He had to clean up and he didn’t have his phone with him to set his alarm… “Yes, honey, it’s OK,” Sheila soothed, gently yet firmly guiding Manny into bed. “You’re safe, just get some rest.” Completely broken, Manny started to cry. He needed to set his alarm, he couldn’t just… “Shhh,” Sheila whispered, running her fingers through Manny’s hair as she eased his head onto the pillow. Her heart ached for the poor, sick boy. Manny’s mind struggled to grasp the last vestiges of awareness. He had to…he needed… But a whole week of only interrupted sleep was far too much to overcome, and Manny was out within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. Sheila stayed for a few minutes, stroking his hair and murmuring softly. When she was satisfied that the teen was resting, she cautiously stood, taking a deep breath. Even in sleep, Manny looked uneasy. Sheila hoped that he would get some good rest and feel better when he woke up. In the meantime, she grabbed some baking soda to spread on the wet stain on the carpet. She’d worry about vacuuming it up later. Before leaving the room, Sheila watched Manny, still concerned. In the few minutes he’d been asleep, he’d automatically curled to one side of his bed, nearly pressed into the wall. For protection or to try to disappear? Sheila wasn’t sure, but it was painful to see. *** To Sheila’s relief, Manny slept for hours. When Olivia returned around 3:30 that afternoon, Manny was still out. Sheila hushed the 6-year-old and explained that her brother wasn’t feeling well, so he was taking a nap. Liv nodded sagely and settled at the coffee table in the living room to color quietly. Just before 4 o’clock, Sheila heard noises from Manny’s room. “Oh! Sounds like your brother’s awake!” she whispered cheerfully to Olivia. Liv beamed and bounced to her feet, skipping in front of Sheila as they headed toward Manny’s bedroom. “Manny!” Liv shouted joyfully, not bothering to knock before barging into the room. Sheila smiled, following, but stopped short as soon as she walked through the door. Manny was standing a few feet back from his bed, a wild look in his eyes and yet another huge, dark patch of wetness down the front of his pants. Before Sheila even had time to process the scene, Olivia had thrown herself in front of her brother, hand out as if to protect him from Sheila. “He didn’t mean it!” she cried, her young voice anxious. “It was a accident!!” Sheila froze, not wanting to seem confrontational. She automatically held her hands up, placating. “He didn’t mean it!” Liv repeated, eyes wide. Behind her, Manny was breathing hard, but he instinctively wrapped an arm around his little sister. Slowly, tentatively, Sheila started to walk toward the siblings. “I know, honey,” she murmured to Olivia. The kindergartner drew back slightly. “Don’t make him leave,” she whispered. Sheila felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Keeping her hands out, she knelt in front of the pair, locking eyes with the little girl. “Liv,” she began, gentle but serious. “Sweetheart, I won’t do that.” Olivia furrowed her brow, unsure. Sheila didn’t look up at Manny, but she saw his hand tighten on his sister’s shoulder. “I promise, Liv,” Sheila insisted. “I know Manny didn’t mean it, and I would never make him leave – or you – for having an accident.” “I can clean up,” Liv said softly, still nervous. “We’ll make it better.” “Oh, honey,” Sheila smiled sadly. “You don’t have to clean up. I’m not mad, sweetheart, I promise. Everything is fine.” Olivia reached up and grabbed her brother’s hand, instinct driving her to stay close to him. “We’ll fix it…” she whispered. “Liv?” Sheila shook her head. “You don’t have to fix anything. I promise. It’s OK.” Sheila inhaled, knowing that her next request would take a bit of convincing. “I just need to talk to Manny for a little bit, OK?” Sure enough, Olivia frowned, pressing back against her brother. “I’m not mad, Liv, I’m not even a little bit mad,” Sheila promised, “and Manny’s not in trouble. I just need to talk to him to make sure he’s OK and see what I can do to help. OK?” Olivia liked Sheila; Sheila had been nice to her. She wanted to believe the nice woman, but she looked up at Manny for reassurance. Ever conscious of protecting his sister, Manny attempted a smile and nodded. It’s not that he completely trusted Sheila; he just thought that he deserved any consequences, not Olivia. So if Sheila wanted him alone, she’d get him. With Manny’s permission, Liv stepped forward. Sheila smiled encouragingly. “Go finish coloring,” she suggested. “You can show Manny your pretty picture when you’re done.” Like most 6-year-olds, Olivia brightened at this prospect. She nodded happily, hugged her brother one last time, and ran from the room. Gathering her thoughts, Sheila turned back to the wet teen standing in front of her. He was shaking so badly, she could see his t-shirt fluttering around his thin body. “Manny,” she began, trying to put every ounce of sympathy and reassurance into her voice. “I promise I’m not mad, I promise you’re not in trouble, and I promise,” she emphasized the word, “that I’m not sending you away or splitting up you and Liv. OK?” Manny’s lip trembled fiercely and he kept his eyes down, but after a moment, he nodded. “OK,” Sheila breathed. It was something. “Honey, I just want to help you. Are you sick?” Manny’s face crumpled even further. After another pause, he shook his head. At this point, he was quavering so much, Sheila was surprised she couldn’t hear his knees knocking together. “Manny, honey, let’s sit down,” she offered. She put her arm under his elbow and steered him down onto the bed. The wet stain was big, but confined to the half of the bed closest to the wall, where Manny had been curled up. “OK, honey,” Sheila said, sitting next to the boy. “I just want to help. Can you tell me what happened?” The silence seemed to stretch between them, but finally, Manny opened his mouth. “I-“ he stammered, he voice gravelly but quiet. “I tried.” “You tried?” Sheila echoed. “Tried what, honey?” Unbidden tears were leaking out of Manny’s eyes and streaming down his cheeks. “I tried not to,” he cried, almost pleadingly. Sheila pressed her lips together as Manny’s words sunk in. This had happened before. Happened often enough that he had made an effort to prevent it. Prevent it, how? “Manny…” Sheila murmured, trying to disguise her dismay. “Have you not been sleeping, honey?” “I…” Manny could barely control his mouth through all the shaking. “I didn’t want to wet the bed,” he whispered, deeply ashamed of having to say the words, but wanting Sheila to understand that he really had tried. Quickly, brokenly, he explained his system of setting his alarm and limiting his drinks, barely pausing for breath and not meeting Sheila’s eyes. And Sheila’s eyes showed the horror she felt at the lengths the teen had taken to keep himself from having an accident. No wonder he’d wet himself earlier; she was surprised he’d even managed to move on so little quality sleep. “…and I…” Manny’s voice was breaking again as his explanation tumbled out. “I didn’t want to make a mess and ruin your mattress and cost you money and make you mad.” Blinking, Sheila swallowed her awe at Manny’s tale. She fixated on a single comment. “OK, honey, first of all, you don’t have to worry about the mattresses,” she promised, trying to ease at least one of his fears. “All of my beds have mattress covers, even mine. That’s just good sense.” At this information, Manny finally looked up, questioning. “And second,” Sheila went on. “Honey, if you’re worried about wetting the bed, not sleeping isn’t the answer. You need your sleep. There are other options. We can get you things to help keep you dry.” Manny snorted reflexively. “Nobody gonna spend money on baby stuff for a grown boy,” he muttered. Sheila tilted her head sympathetically. “Is that what someone told you?” “Angelina,” Manny answered simply. His dad’s girlfriend. “Those things cost money.” Sheila refrained from making a sarcastic comment about the cost of heroin. “Well,” she said instead. “I happen to have plenty of money. Definitely enough to buy pull-ups for you. If that would help you sleep better,” she added. Slowly, nervously, Manny finally met Sheila’s eyes. He looked younger than she’d ever seen him look. “Really?” Sheila reached up and cupped the young man’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb. “Yes, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” Biting his lip, Manny nodded repeatedly. If he couldn’t stop himself from wetting the bed, then surely the next best option was not making such a huge mess every night. Sheila smiled, relieved. “It’s settled then. I’ll go out and pick some up.” She rubbed Manny’s back, comforting. “And I might as well grab some dinner while I’m out. What do you feel like? Mexican? Chicken?” Slightly embarrassed by the positive outcome of the day’s events, Manny shrugged. “Whatever,” he murmured. Sheila stood, understanding that they’d probably reached their limit of conversation for now. Plus, Manny still had to change. “OK, honey. Why don’t you get cleaned up – I’ll change the sheets – and then come out and see your sister’s picture.” Still blushing, Manny nodded and scrambled to the dresser to grab some dry clothes before heading into the bathroom to change. Sheila efficiently stripped the bed, still in awe of what Manny had told her. She was furious at what he’d gone through and devastated at what he thought he had to do to keep himself and his sister safe. While she was loading the washing machine to clean the wet sheets, she heard Manny emerge from the bathroom and join his sister in the living room. Sheila closed the lid of the washing machine to start it and headed down the hallway to the sound of Olivia’s happy chatter. Rounding the corner, Sheila saw Manny kneeling next to his sister, his arm around her shoulder’s as the little girl pointed out her artistic products. Manny looked relaxed and completely engrossed with what Liv was saying. Sheila hung back, leaning against the wall and smiling. Maybe she could do this parenting thing after all.
  22. So i'm hoping some of you can help me out here. I'm hoping to experience an actual bed wetting in a few days. I plan on having pullups on so not to damage the mattress or anything.. But the thing is, whenever i need to pee while i'm asleep, i wake up. Natural thing to do, i know. But i want to make it so i don't wake up. I don't want it to be permanent, i only want to experience it when i choose to, which in this case will only be in a few days time while i'm away home home travelling. Can anyone suggest the best way to make it so i wet myself while i sleep (in the pullups i'll be wearing).
  23. After I moved out from home, I made a decision to stop wearing diapers at night. I needed to stop wetting the bed !! and the only way I could think of trying to stay dry at night was to lose my reliance on nappies. After all how was I going to have any sort of chance in a relationship when I still wet the bed. I was now twenty years old, my mum stopped wetting her bed at my age and I had always thought that I would be the same. Although one thing my specialist said was constantly ringing around in my head " Some people never become completely dry at night. Bedwetting runs in both my Dads and my Mums family, my youngest aunty still regularly wets her bed. She as far as I know has never had a constant relationship. I wondered now more than ever wether I would end up being a bedwetting spinster, so I set about making some changes in my life. No diapers for a start. I had my own place so I was able to take care of my wet sheets which were the consequence of not wearing nappies. I had my mattress protected which I would explain away to anyone who I shared my bed with ( when I became dry that is ) that I needed to protect my bed for "that time of the month". Which was actually partially true, as I seem to pee myself at night much more when it was " that time" Finally after a few months of no alcohol, carefully watching what I drank and completely " draining " my bladder before I went to bed I was able to achieve a few weeks of dry nights. I sleep so deeply so I tried setting an alarm to wake me up in the middle of the night so I could get up and wee, because my bladder wasn't waking me. it was something I couldn't do when I was house sharing with my best friend . Nobody likes to be woken every night by someone else's alarm . Eventually I worked up the courage to start dating, at first I would make every excuse on why I couldn't spend the night with them . Some guys took that as if I wasn't interested in them enough and we drifted apart. Then I met a guy who I fell head over heels in love with. I had been having weeks of regular dry nights and I really had the "hots" for him, so I threw caution to the wind and agreed to spend a night with him. We made love, it was fantastic, I woke early in the morning, even though I was absolutely busting, I had and made it to the toilet, I went back to bed with the biggest smile on my face. No wet bed !! and no please explain. My confidence skyrocketed, I began to spend regular nights at his place, but I was always mindful of what time I had my last drink of water and stuck to my plan. Then one night we decided to go out for dinner, I knew beer made me wet the bed, so I thought maybe one glass of wine wouldn't hurt . We were having such a great time that one glass turned into two and a few more. We went back to his place again, and with a little alcohol to fuel my desires were soon in bed making love with as much fire as I could muster. Content and for filled I must have dozed off. Morning came, I knew instantly what had happened, all I could feel and smell was pee !!! My panties we still saturated as if I had only just wet them . I felt towards my boyfriend hoping and praying that the wet patch hadn't reached him. There was no dry sheet between him and me. OMG how on earth am I going to explain this I thought. My problem had returned with vengeance. I cursed myself for having so much to drink, everything was going so well between us, surely he isn't going to want to see me again after me peeing in his bed and worst of all I had peed on him as well !! Tears began to roll down my cheeks. I decided to wake him and not prolong my agony any longer, he was going to kick me out for sure !! "I wet the bed" I blubbered not sure of what reaction I was going to get. I was scared that he may yell at me, or worse !! He awoke, swept the sheets back, to check out the wet patch. Then ....... Fuck !!! his only verbal reaction Silence ........ I could almost see his mind ticking over " What am I going to do with her " "Shall I flick her " ? "She is a nice chick !! , great in bed, pretty, has a funny sense of humour. Bad points !! she just pissed in my bed !! My good points must have won over, I stopped crying, he gave me a cuddle then we stripped the bed. He told me not to worry its going to be ok . I had never wet the bed with a male partner before and it was just as humiliating as I imagined it would be. Still it looked as if my bladder indiscretion was going to be forgiven. I scrubbed the pee out of his mattress and dried it with my hair dryer. Luckily it didn't smell . Later I fitted a water (pee) proof mattress cover encase it happened again. Nothing more was mentioned, we resumed our relationship as if nothing had happened. The next time we went out was with a group of his friends. I wanted to become part of the group because I do love being with people, but it didn't take me long to work out that most of his mates girlfriends were bitches !! They were all from well to do families, and it seemed because I was from the country that I felt I wasn't good enough for them. Still I tried to fit in so I didn't look like the odd girl out. Then slowly I won them over with my sense of humour. By now we had all had a few drinks, and I was beginning to wear my familiar path out to the toilet and back . My "problem" temporarily forgotten I began to let my hair down and enjoy myself. I felt confident enough to ask if anyone wanted to go to the loo too, my boyfriend overheard me and then said loud enough so everyone could hear " Yeah take her to the toilet so she doesn't wet the bed again !!! " Everyone looked at me, I was left totally speechless, I turned bright red !! I have never been so unprepared for anything in my entire life. No smart comeback, nothing, only a stony silence which just confirmed " Guilty" !!! all the girls looked at me, he had just given them the ammunition to bring me down so they could tear me to pieces !! I walked off alone humiliated and in shock, leaving them to feast on the carcass of my credibility. Who was this guy I was dating !! he had changed in front of his mates, I couldn't believe he had so little respect for me that he would " out me " for wetting the bed. I would have been happier if he had of kicked me out there and then, not humiliate me in front of his friends I sat in shelter of the toilet cubicle and sobbed my eyes out, my confidence totally shattered, how on earth am I going face those bitches now !! Eventually I pulled myself together, dried my eyes fixed my makeup. I returned, I could see from the look on their faces that I had been the main subject of conversation. My boyfriend had probably blabbed the whole story to them . I was too shocked to be angry. We left soon after, he had successfully killed the party. We rode home in the taxi in complete silence. My eyes kept welling up, I knew our relationship was finished, I had been so betrayed I couldn't trust him anymore. We went to bed not speaking to each other, I lay there still with tears trickling down my face in the dark . Now my anger started, for my own self esteem I had to get even. We were finished but I wanted to make sure, so I held my wee so I was nearly wetting myself. My now ex was sleeping soundly so I snuck over to him as close as I could without touching him. I thought to myself F you !! as I released my bladder and wet myself with the biggest smile on my face . When he wakes in the morning he will find I have left him a surprise and I will be gone. I got up, quietly took off my pee soaked undies and left them there as a memento. Pulled on my jeans and a jumper and drove home. We never saw each other again. I wish I could say that was the only time I wet the bed with a boyfriend, but it wasn't. Whenever I drank I wet the bed, some guys were really good about it and understanding and they would just let you down gently and not have any more contact. Some guys just kicked me out of the house. Thankfully no one was violet towards me. After that I went through a stage were I just didn't date, I just preferred to get drunk be alone. If I wet my bed I didn't have to answer to anyone, at that stage of my life it was easier.
  24. As I've mentioned in other posts both myself and my GF Brenda are sometimes a little lax with the pants wetting and both occasionally do wet the bed when we drink. Anyway on Thanksgiving holiday we had friends over for dinner and drinks, actually quite a few drinks. Once all our guests left it was almost midnight and we both knew we had been drinking and Brenda suggests that just in case we should put the fitted plastic sheet on the bed, knowing we have accidents when drinking. Anyway I was so excited at the thought of this that I didn't pee before bed. I kind of know I was going to be wetting myself and was actually looking forward to it. Brenda falls asleep almost instantly and soon I head this unmistakably sound of pee hitting plastic, she was wetting her pants in her sleep. I was bursting by now and just couldn't resist so I just let go and start peeing in my pajamas, soon rolling over onto my front side soaking my shirt in the process. Then I slept like a baby the rest of the night. Come morning Brenda acts slightly perturbed at her self for wetting the bed. I tell her it's all good, I wet it too. Having to go again by now I get out of bed and Rewet my pajamas, telling Brenda there wet anyway. I wasn't going to let this perfect chance to wet the bed pass with out doing it.