Picture this: you have a work meeting so I have to get locked in my crate while you’re gone. Just to make sure I’m able to be a good boy. But don’t worry! You’ve left plenty of water for me to drink. You’re a thoughtful owner like that. I drink it all to prove I can be a good boy, but would you look at that, after the meeting you go out with some coworkers. I start to get desperate for a bathroom, but I have to hold it like a good boy. Good boys don’t have accidents in their crates. Good boys only go potty when they’re told they can. So I wait, getting squirmier by the minute, grinding against the hands shoved against my desperate little pee hole. What a wiggly puppy you finally come home to! He must have to go so badly, but he looks so adorable like this! He can wait just one more minute while I coo over him, he’s a big puppy. And when I start to dribble on the floor I need to wait another minute while you scold me. Good boys can hold it, even without hands! Spread those trembling little legs too. You think I must be so embarrassed to be this desperate.
I love how a bladder that’s being pushed to its limit takes on a life and a mind of its own. It’s like all the water in me has become self-aware, and it’s searching around for a way out and getting angry and trying to punish me.
It’s water—the thing that digs canyons out of solid rock. Why do I think I can control something like that with my pathetic little muscles? It’s so much more powerful than my body, it’s almost demonic. Having a bladder this full is like being possessed. I’m shuddering and flailing around uncontrollably. I’m whining and grunting. I’m out of my mind. All because there’s a heavy balloon of water inside me that doesn’t want to be there.
storytime. (I’m high rn and was also high last night so hopefully this retelling doesn’t sound weird. it’s about my hold yesterday)
so last night I got high and decided to go for a walk. Before I left the house I had ended up holding in my morning tea until I was desperate, and I mean eye watering teeth floating desperate, but used the toilet before leaving. I then walked around my neighborhood for like 2 hours, high listening to Steven Universe lofi and watching the light through the trees and brick. I didn’t have to pee, but I did have a Diet Coke and then a green tea while I was out. I was thirsty.
I was thirsty still when I got home. Two waters added in. Cut to 40 minutes later, I’m fidgeting. I’m feeling it. The drinks. The trickle. The fill. I decide I should go back out and take my bladder for a walk. It’s nighttime now, so I’m a little protected by the dark, but there are still house lights and streetlights and people walking about. My bladder jostles around apprehensively inside me as I walk along the sidewalk, keeping my pace normal, everything’s normal here! I don’t need to pee!
I need to pee.
I pause, cross my legs casually by a tree, take a deep breath. Ok. I’m ok. I don’t need to pee. I start walking again.
Another block and then -
I need to pee.
Pause, casual leg squeeze, deep breath. I. I don’t. Need to pee. I start walking again.
I’m walking faster now, my bladder hurrying me along. I continue to deny it. Yes, I’m going home now, yes, but don’t think that means I’ll use the toilet when I’m back. No no, for having to go home before I was done my walk, I don’t get to use the bathroom. I just get to hold it in private now.
I make it home dry, hips wriggling as I lock up. Ok, ok I’m home now. And I still don’t get to pee. I get to just hold it. And hold it. And hold it….
I’m frantic. I’m grappling at my belly, lifting and squeezing and squishing my bladder, my own tickly fingers sending electric shocks through the trembling organ. Urine pinches at the sensitive walls of my bladder and I moan, stripping into nothing, just me and a towel. I stay upright, legs apart. I tell myself to just hold it, it’s just piss you can handle it. It’s just Diet Coke and green tea and water and water-
You know what? Why don’t I go show myself what I’m not allowed to have. I go into the bathroom, and do a fake pee. I’m standing. I’m arching. I’m on the brink. I start tugging myself, flicking my tip with each stroke. I relax. I’m ok. I’m ok, I don’t have to go anymore. I made the feeling go away. I’m ok to leave the bathroom, I don’t need it. I go back to my towel.
A little time passes, I’m reading fics where guys have to hold their piss for a long time, through a whole day at the mall, or out on a hike. I have to hold it just like them. Which I can, now that I don’t feel it as much now - oh. Oh. Oh I read a story where a desperate boy is at the movie theater watching pirates on the ocean, and my bladder surges, my own ocean inside me reminding me STRONGLY that it is still here.
My thighs squish together and I bend into a curtsy as a first drop of pee trickles down to my tip. I grind and groan and breathe until the urge dies down and I can straighten up again. Phew. I held it in.
More time passes and I watch videos of other guys getting to pee, one in a urinal with his stream pitter pattering against the porcelain, another with his dick in a water bottle, filling it up with hot bubbling piss. It’s loud. It’s on loop, incessant relief incessant sound I can’t, I can’t!!
I crumple into myself, jiggling on the spot. I’m desperate! I have to pee now, right now!
Ooooh, but I’m not allowed! I’m not allowed to go! But I have to! I start panicking, thinking about where else I could pee that isn’t the toilet. I quiver into one corner, wishing it was an outdoor wall that I could just gush onto, fat drops of pee spilling out of me -
I’m shaking, my bladder thundering with need. I can’t go here! I can’t pee! I have to hold it! I have to contain myself! I manage to pry myself away from the wall and back to my towel. The videos are still playing, more and more guys getting to pee. Getting to pee in their pants, in the shower, in the toilet... I’m not allowed to pee anywhere. I’m going to explode. I hop from foot to foot, panting. I’m going to pee. I’m gonna loose it. I’m I’m I’m tugging myself again, oh god please don’t let me loose it, I can hold it, I can hold it in. I take a deep breath. I can hold it. I stand back up straight and lift my arms in the air.
Within minutes I’m writhing again, dick trembling as it struggles to contain the pounding river of pee pulsing inside it. Stay standing! Arms up! Don’t give in! Hold it!
I hold it. I collapse to my knees. I knead and shake and rock and moan. It’s too much! It’s too much pee! I can’t take it!! My bladder tingles, making my spine arch, little sparkles tickling up my back and neck. I fall on all fours, trembling.
I can’t hold it! I cry. I can’t hold it anymore. I’m bursting. I have to pee. Oh god I have to pee so badly. I imagine being stuck in this perpetual state of desperation, body strung so tightly I’m seconds away from bursting, nerves on fire. I can’t hold it and spurt for 3 seconds onto the towel.
I mewl and rock back and forth, my body in terrible ecstasy from the effort of stopping the leak. But I stop it, and I calm down. A little came out, that’s fine. It was just a little. And now I can hold the rest!
Spoiler: I couldn’t hold the rest, I tugged until I felt my orgasm and an accident crest over me and rushed to the bathtub where I exploded all of it all over that porcelain instead.
piss kink safety patrol! (for golden showers, drinking piss, internal pissing— anal and vaginal, holding, and wetting)
if you are being pissed on
very very minimal safety risks here
close those eyes baby! the second piss is anywhere near the face— close your eyes. that shit stings. have you ever had cum in your eye? it’s like that, but way harder to wipe off.
try not to do this with any fresh piercings, new tattoos, open wounds, or anything else that’s begging to get infected
if you are ingesting urine
what medications is your partner on? can they be passed through urine? (most likely they can be— in very trace amounts. but those trace amounts can be important to be aware of depending on your situation)
has your partner recently ingested something (medication, food, etc) that you are allergic to? or something that interacts with your meds? if they have, is it worth that risk?
has your partner recently taken any drugs? can they be passed through urine? (most likely they can be— in very trace amounts. those trace amounts may or may not be enough to cause a reaction, and may or may not be enough to fail a drug test <- has happened to people!)
on one non-safety note… you’re probably not going to love the taste of piss. regardless. you might! but most do not. it’s piss. really well hydrated piss can be very enjoyable (I like it a lot!), really dehydrated piss might make you puke. diet changes the taste— just like cum, but more directly. coffee, asparagus, lots of meat… all things that can make it particularly strong (and some people love that! some people do that on purpose! but I would maybe not… start there). lots of juice + lots and lots of water can make it very mild. medications and supplements can change the taste. lots of people anecdotally like the way beer or diet soda makes it taste. first piss of the day is considerably stronger and more unpleasant than any other time.
if you are doing internal pissing (anal)
if you are getting it straight from the tap (penis or funneled in): minimal to no risk. pee is not sterile! urine is not sterile. but you’re not gonna run into a ton of issues here. the real concern is if you’re dealing with abnormal abrasions, likely from particularly rough anal sex, you’re going to be more at risk for infection. keep an eye on it, take a shower, etc. you’re probably all good.
if you are getting a larger volume than one normal pee (bottle, etc, any amount of built-up fluid from multiple pees): this is less a safety risk and more just a heads up. chances are this will kind of accidentally enema you. and then you will shit. pretty immediately. if you’ve done a ton of anal prep (including enema) beforehand, you’re likely going to be fine.
if you are doing internal pissing (vaginal)
now we’re looking at pH balances. urine is more basic than the natural flora of a vaginal ecosystem, which can cause problems.
if you are prone to UTIs, yeast infections, or bacterial vaginosis, you should probably prepare for that. if that’s the risk you’d like to take, that’s your choice! but if your pH balance is delicate, piss is absolutely going to disrupt it.
even if you’re not prone, the risk for all of the above is there!
PEE. AFTER. BEING. PEED IN. please 😚 you’ll save yourself so much trouble. and I mean pee, don’t just evacuate the foreign piss. if you’re not already peeing after sex in general… start now!
if you’re doing any kind of holding:
any long-term holding (and I mean, like, having holding your pee for long periods of time become a part of your life for years) can result in slight to moderate incontinence (leaking) and weakened pelvic floor muscles. make sure you’re doing pelvic floor exercises! it’s best to sometimes give yourself an extended break from a holding kink, but I won’t tell you what to do.
there’s no real One Answer for “how long is it okay to hold at one time?”, but it’s better to do high hydration/stronger desperation/shorter hold than it is to do low hydration/less need to pee/longer hold, for hydration purposes. the longer you hold, the more you are at risk for UTIs and potentially bladder infections (cystitis, a kind of UTI). bladder infections have a chance of becoming kidney infections. no, there’s no One Set Time, but no, it’s not safe to hold all day either. listen to your body as best you can.
find your limits and set them. I’m prone to UTIs (and have a weak bladder), so I have different levels of “okay to hold”. I have found the maximum amount of water and its correlating hold times that work for me— and hold time is never over an hour. that’s my risk profile.
if you’re wetting
sitting in your wet mess can be fun and humiliating, but can also cause rashes. I literally cannot speak to diaper instances, I have no experience there, but most fabrics will start to be uncomfortable while wet after a while, and sitting in your piss can cause chafing, rashes, skin irritation… and again, sitting in pissed in underwear (or garments close to the genitalia) can cause UTIs + yeast infections, especially in vulvas.
AS ALWAYS, when dealing with someone else’s fluids inside your body, you are at risk for STIs. get tested, keep getting tested, take PrEP, have the conversations, know your body, and above all, be aware of what risks you run. this shit is fun and wonderful— funderful— and should stay that way. safe pissing (or lack thereof) everybody!
I love the idea of pee tells. just little indications of body language that tells you when someone's having an accident, even if they're wearing a diaper, or something thick, like snow pants, or their pee is hidden from view.
-the classic, they stop squirming and freeze in place, unable to move. it's only after that when you notice hissing, or a growing wet patch.
-alternatively, maybe they have a blissed out or dazed expression as they get their sweet relief. it's not in the toilet, but who's gonna notice?
-sticking their butt out, or if they're sitting when they start to wet, lifting their butt up off the seat, just a little. as if maybe they could pee like that and somehow not have urine dribbling down their leg.
-turning one knee inward, or slightly lifting one foot. this one's so cute... it's almost kinda puppylike, or cutesy, like standing pigeon toed. plus, while it's just a reflex, if they aren't padded, it causes them to pee down their leg.
-squatting or kneeling. I especially like the idea of someone kneeling on instinct as soon as they start to go, but then realizing that makes it even easier to pee on their own legs by accident. oops!
also, any of the facial expressions/ body language + any of the behaviors can result in extra special peeing their pants vibes!
Yeeeees, it's so cute! When you can just TELL at a glance that someone's wetting, it's hardly subtle at all - well, it might be subtle enough to go unnoticed by people who don't know the wetter, but anyone who's close with them instantly knows!
Big big fan of when characters think to themselves "okay it's just 15 minutes, I can hold it 15 minutes," and then helplessly wet themselves 14 minutes and 30 seconds later.
more pups need to pee themselves in excitement when they see their owners come home, wiggling so much they can’t hold their poor puppy bladder and peepee on the floor.
more pups should present for their owners, roll on their backs, legs spread, and show how submissive they are by peeing themselves. it’s a humiliating act, but it’s only done in reverence. they’ll happily make a big mess of themselves and pee everywhere for their owners.
more pups need to be so proud of their potty training. as soon as their owner’s home, they excitedly take them over to the still dry puppy pad in the corner, settle over it, and confidently release a huge torrent of piss as soon as they get the word. they bristle with pride as the headpats and praise comes, their owner rubbing their full belly as they spray piss right where it’s supposed to go, just like a good puppy.
Writing a story about a proud, hardened spaceship's captain (Luc?) who gets sent in a smaller ship than usual to check out an anomaly. There's a new maintenance regulation which designates that any crew sent on a mission greater than x lighthours without appropriate amenities onboard away is provided with, and instructed, to equip a one-size-fits-all human-style absorbency garment. "A diaper." Says Luc. "I get it, and I won't need it, but you do mean a diaper."
"Just wear it," says the superior.
"Sure," says Luc in a way that sounds like he absolutely will not wear it.
"I'm serious, Luc. The kidney damage guidelines lay it out really clearly. We know you're capable, but you don't want to lose your level of classification for a grudge. We're all agreeing to this."
"Fine, fine," Luc waves him off. "I'll use it. Don't worry. May as well start feeding us warm milk and asking us if we want a blankie, too."
"You know, back in the day all the early astronauts had to wear em. People thought they were heroic for it."
"Somehow I doubt that," says Luc drily. But he accepts the silly thing and wears it under the first layer of his uniform before the flight.
What he didn't realize is how soon he'd be grateful he had it on.
First it was the delays in getting out. Then it was the delays in coming back. And he had just been leaving the familiar asteroids of his home space when he realizes his body is doing the thing it does every so often where it processes all the liquid he drank all at once. It's only happened a few times, usually after leaving the bar, and he's always been lucky to find a toilet, but. He won't be finding any here.
He knows he's probably fucked when he starts fantasizing about using nearby rocks and asteroids as makeshift toilets, the craters and holes pocking their surface offering a welcome place to hide his waste. Ohhhh, why didn't they give him landing gear? Why did this have to happen now?
He's in the last stretch of his flight returning home and it's gotten worse, way worse. It's all rushed to the tip of his dick, screaming for relief. It's *urgent*, and he regrets the tall coffee, the large refreshing fruit drink he had, the water after eating salty chips, and the soda he shared with his friend before leaving for his mission. He reeeeally really has to go. Words like "accident" and "can't hold it" float through his mind. He holds himself very very still, promising himself not to wriggle like a child. But his hand movements belye his state of distress, suddenly moving to rub his chin, or frantically rub the top of his thigh back and forth, or squeeze his knee, or just vaguely tremor in the air. None of it's doing anything. But he's trying. He's *trying*.
This must be what people say when they describe their eyeballs as floating. If the contents of a man are his mind, then he must be one giant ocean of piss, too large for one man to hold, with only one way out.
And make its way out it does.
"Oh, fuck!" he can't help but exclaim when he loses control, just for a second, forgets to manually Not Pee as he has had to do every second this flight.
"Commander?" asks his superior over the radio.
Fuck, why must he be all alone in space and yet so watched? "No matter," he assures him, slightly out of breath. "Nothing of substance, I assure you."
He hates this. Hates that day one of having a freaking diaper and he's used it. Just a bit, but are you serious? The padding his dick is pushed around by is now warm and damp, a foolish call to attention of his weakness.
Well. He hasn't really *used* it, has he?
Anyone in his situation could be forgiven for letting some off the top. There's only so much a man can do, after all. But largely he has control. And now that he has made some room in himself, he should be able to keep it up. In fact, he is determined to.
By some miracle, he releases little more than some necessary drops by the time he lands. He is one big muscle, and he is positioned entirely against the wall of ocean. He feels something like that boy stopping the sea, in that ancient story, by putting his finger in the hole. No one ever truly appreciated how strong and noble that boy was, thinks Luc. He should be given a congressional meal of honor.
Luc holds his urine as he lands.
He holds it as he deboards.
He holds it as he takes off his rather unwieldy belt and spacesuit (well, he may have lost more dribbles, but with the positions he had to put himself in to get himself out of those damn constrictive leggings, no one could blame him.) He holds it, but it struggles, it fights to leave him.
And as he strides very very very very quickly towards the toilets, he can't hold it anymore.
The spurt rushes out of him warmly and welcomingly, and he frantically wiggles and stops it, and stops the next one too. And he makes it two more steps before the finger in the dam fails entirely.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuuuu-uuuck!
His whole mind is eclipsed with relief, from the tip of his dick to the top of his head. The warm ocean rushes out of him, warming his pubis, crotch, and wetting his ass. He didn't know pissing could feel this good. In for a space-penny, he thinks, and pushes it out harder. Now the liquid creeps up the padded waistband a bit, and down the upper thighs where, prepped for zero gravity, the absorbent material blessedly continued. He can't really tell where his pee stops and the diaper begins, in truth. He is an ocean of warmth. Warmth, and relief. And he is very, very, very, very wet.
Why do babies even get potty trained? he thinks. Why do they even allow it?
He realizes that he has stopped very suddenly in a busy hallway, with his esteemed colleagues and some *very* important politicians in the building, and probably has had a very weird look on his face for the last...he doesn't know how long he's been standing here.... between twenty seconds and five years?
At a quizzical look from his officemate, he says "just...forgot something on my grocery list," he says, kicking himself for how wobbly and gutteral his voice comes out. And he shuffles, probably more awkwardly than necessary, to the nearest bathroom. He knows he is bright red.
He strips his pants and looks at himself in the mirror. Damn, it really did take it all. By this point, some slight urge has returned, and he pushes that one out too, watching for evidence in the mirror, and it's warm and continues for quite a while. It feels kind of amazing. After repeating this a few times and he's sure he's done, Luc slowly disrobes himself of the one-size-fits-all human-style absorbency garment. It's heavy, warm, and falls to the ground with a wet slap. He wraps it in paper towels and stuffs it in the trash can. It doesn't smell like anything, bless technology. And he leaves the tiny restroom, sends his final report, clocks out, and floats home.
Several days later, Spacecaptain Luc Buonevaire pulls up his pants in the morning, looks in the mirror, and releases just a spurt of pee. It takes some time to start, and he stops it quickly, but it burns like hot nickel in the inside of his thigh. The dampness feels like no more than sweat, but knowing that it's urine excites him. You can't see it from the outside. A thrill shoots through him.
Next week he is going on a second mission on the tiny spacecraft. They are going to give him a diaper. And he is going to wear it.
Writing a story about a proud, hardened spaceship's captain (Luc?) who gets sent in a smaller ship than usual to check out an anomaly. There's a new maintenance regulation which designates that any crew sent on a mission greater than x lighthours without appropriate amenities onboard away is provided with, and instructed, to equip a one-size-fits-all human-style absorbency garment. "A diaper." Says Luc. "I get it, and I won't need it, but you do mean a diaper."
"Just wear it," says the superior.
"Sure," says Luc in a way that sounds like he absolutely will not wear it.
"I'm serious, Luc. The kidney damage guidelines lay it out really clearly. We know you're capable, but you don't want to lose your level of classification for a grudge. We're all agreeing to this."
"Fine, fine," Luc waves him off. "I'll use it. Don't worry. May as well start feeding us warm milk and asking us if we want a blankie, too."
"You know, back in the day all the early astronauts had to wear em. People thought they were heroic for it."
"Somehow I doubt that," says Luc drily. But he accepts the silly thing and wears it under the first layer of his uniform before the flight.
What he didn't realize is how soon he'd be grateful he had it on.
First it was the delays in getting out. Then it was the delays in coming back. And he had just been leaving the familiar asteroids of his home space when he realizes his body is doing the thing it does every so often where it processes all the liquid he drank all at once. It's only happened a few times, usually after leaving the bar, and he's always been lucky to find a toilet, but. He won't be finding any here.
He knows he's probably fucked when he starts fantasizing about using nearby rocks and asteroids as makeshift toilets, the craters and holes pocking their surface offering a welcome place to hide his waste. Ohhhh, why didn't they give him landing gear? Why did this have to happen now?
He's in the last stretch of his flight returning home and it's gotten worse, way worse. It's all rushed to the tip of his dick, screaming for relief. It's *urgent*, and he regrets the tall coffee, the large refreshing fruit drink he had, the water after eating salty chips, and the soda he shared with his friend before leaving for his mission. He reeeeally really has to go. Words like "accident" and "can't hold it" float through his mind. He holds himself very very still, promising himself not to wriggle like a child. But his hand movements belye his state of distress, suddenly moving to rub his chin, or frantically rub the top of his thigh back and forth, or squeeze his knee, or just vaguely tremor in the air. None of it's doing anything. But he's trying. He's *trying*.
This must be what people say when they describe their eyeballs as floating. If the contents of a man are his mind, then he must be one giant ocean of piss, too large for one man to hold, with only one way out.
And make its way out it does.
"Oh, fuck!" he can't help but exclaim when he loses control, just for a second, forgets to manually Not Pee as he has had to do every second this flight.
"Commander?" asks his superior over the radio.
Fuck, why must he be all alone in space and yet so watched? "No matter," he assures him, slightly out of breath. "Nothing of substance, I assure you."
He hates this. Hates that day one of having a freaking diaper and he's used it. Just a bit, but are you serious? The padding his dick is pushed around by is now warm and damp, a foolish call to attention of his weakness.
Well. He hasn't really *used* it, has he?
Anyone in his situation could be forgiven for letting some off the top. There's only so much a man can do, after all. But largely he has control. And now that he has made some room in himself, he should be able to keep it up. In fact, he is determined to.
By some miracle, he releases little more than some necessary drops by the time he lands. He is one big muscle, and he is positioned entirely against the wall of ocean. He feels something like that boy stopping the sea, in that ancient story, by putting his finger in the hole. No one ever truly appreciated how strong and noble that boy was, thinks Luc. He should be given a congressional meal of honor.
Luc holds his urine as he lands.
He holds it as he deboards.
He holds it as he takes off his rather unwieldy belt and spacesuit (well, he may have lost more dribbles, but with the positions he had to put himself in to get himself out of those damn constrictive leggings, no one could blame him.) He holds it, but it struggles, it fights to leave him.
And as he strides very very very very quickly towards the toilets, he can't hold it anymore.
The spurt rushes out of him warmly and welcomingly, and he frantically wiggles and stops it, and stops the next one too. And he makes it two more steps before the finger in the dam fails entirely.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuuuu-uuuck!
His whole mind is eclipsed with relief, from the tip of his dick to the top of his head. The warm ocean rushes out of him, warming his pubis, crotch, and wetting his ass. He didn't know pissing could feel this good. In for a space-penny, he thinks, and pushes it out harder. Now the liquid creeps up the padded waistband a bit, and down the upper thighs where, prepped for zero gravity, the absorbent material blessedly continued. He can't really tell where his pee stops and the diaper begins, in truth. He is an ocean of warmth. Warmth, and relief. And he is very, very, very, very wet.
Why do babies even get potty trained? he thinks. Why do they even allow it?
He realizes that he has stopped very suddenly in a busy hallway, with his esteemed colleagues and some *very* important politicians in the building, and probably has had a very weird look on his face for the last...he doesn't know how long he's been standing here.... between twenty seconds and five years?
At a quizzical look from his officemate, he says "just...forgot something on my grocery list," he says, kicking himself for how wobbly and gutteral his voice comes out. And he shuffles, probably more awkwardly than necessary, to the nearest bathroom. He knows he is bright red.
He strips his pants and looks at himself in the mirror. Damn, it really did take it all. By this point, some slight urge has returned, and he pushes that one out too, watching for evidence in the mirror, and it's warm and continues for quite a while. It feels kind of amazing. After repeating this a few times and he's sure he's done, Luc slowly disrobes himself of the one-size-fits-all human-style absorbency garment. It's heavy, warm, and falls to the ground with a wet slap. He wraps it in paper towels and stuffs it in the trash can. It doesn't smell like anything, bless technology. And he leaves the tiny restroom, sends his final report, clocks out, and floats home.
Several days later, Spacecaptain Luc Buonevaire pulls up his pants in the morning, looks in the mirror, and releases just a spurt of pee. It takes some time to start, and he stops it quickly, but it burns like hot nickel in the inside of his thigh. The dampness feels like no more than sweat, but knowing that it's urine excites him. You can't see it from the outside. A thrill shoots through him.
Next week he is going on a second mission on the tiny spacecraft. They are going to give him a diaper. And he is going to wear it.
I need to make him beg for permission to "potty" while he crosses his legs and grabs himself and doesn't even care how stupid and pathetic he looks, face flushed and purely focused on the pressure in his bladder and my answer
anyway. I love squirming A Lot, it makes me really feel the sensation of my bladder inside of me, and also it's humiliating, so as much fun as it is to be told to stay still how about being encouraged to squirm more
having trouble there sweetie? have you tried bouncing your other leg too? try moving from foot to foot, that always helps me. oh, it's going to be a while, why dont you squeeze between your legs? dont worry, I wont laugh at you (<<lying). Whatever you have to do. oh, honey, you look so worried, try standing up and moving around, put in all the wiggles you need
thinking about only being allowed to use a training potty so i cant ever go when we're out and about. mommy tells me i have to at least sit on the potty and try before we can go to the toy store to spend my gift card but i'm too excited! my bottom barely touches the potty before i get back up and pull my training undies up. "all done!" i say, wiggling in place a little. it's just because i'm happy to go to the toy store though. i don't need to go potty
"honey," she says, kindly, "are you sure you don't need to go? you really didn't try for very long. the toy store doesn't have a potty you can use, so you really need to go now."
"i'm all done!" i insist. "i don't have to go."
in the car, i maybe realize that i do kind of have to go... but it's ok, i can hold it. i secretly press my crotch up against the belt of my car seat so mommy can't see me holding myself with my hands.
when we get out at the toy store, i'm so excited to look at everything that i don't even have to think about how bad i need to potty for awhile. but when it comes back, as i'm standing in front of the stuffed animals, it's YIKES! i really, reallyreally have to go... but there's not a potty here i can use, and i haven't decided if i'm going to get the softy stuffed dragon or the lego set or the plug n play tv game yet. i keep walking frantically between the three. i really have to go...
i keep letting out little tiny leaks into my training undies because i just need to go so badly and they're starting to get a really big wet spot on the inside but it feels like the more i let out, the worse i need to go. i finally decide on the legos and run hurriedly to the checkout line, pulling mommy along.
"do you have to go potty, baby?" she asks. it's pretty obvious at this point, with the way i'm walking with my legs a little apart so the cold wet training undies don't squish all yucky in between my legs. but i still shake my head.
"are you sure?" she asks. "the line is pretty long, and we might be able to make it home now in time for you to use the potty if we put the legos back. we can come back for them another day."
i am not going to give up my legos! i look up at her wide eyed. "i'm okay, mommy, i can hold it!"
"alright, it's your choice." she says.
by the time we get to the checkout counter, i've leaked through my training undies. there's a wet spot on the crotch of my pants and i pull the fabric to hide it as i hand my purchase and gift card to the nice lady at the checkout.
"oh, had a little accident, did you?" she says, knowingly. "i know the toy store can be so exciting for you little ones." i realize she thinks i've already had a whole accident, but i still really have to go! i've only been letting out tiny leaks the whole time and my bladder is sore and aching and complaining and i step back and forth and wait wait wait for her to stop talking. when she finally does, the wet spot on my pants is about an inch bigger.
i get to the car and i whine as mommy straps me in, the strap compressing my full bladder. "i have to go, potty mommy, i really really have to go," i complain.
"well, sweetheart. we don't have a potty for you in the car, so you're just going to have to try and wait." even mommy knows i'm not going to make it. i hug my lego set and look out the window and try not to focus on the ocean of liquid in my tummy, but it's hard when so much of my mind is occupied screaming about how bad i need to go potty.
the bump up the curb to our driveway is what does it, it jolts me and it's the last straw. i can hear a pshhhhh and the warm flow of liquid just won't stop coming out no matter how tight i squeeze. "mommy, mommy, hurry, i need to get out, i need to get to the potty, i'm going peepee, i need the potty!" i beg, but it's too late. i'm emptying completely into the carseat, the peepee pooling around my bottom and getting the hem of my shirt wet.
by the time mommy has the car stopped, i'm almost empty. i'm crying and hiccuping and hugging my lego set as the involuntart stream stops, although i still have to go a little. mommy helps me out onto the driveway, where i try to somehow hide my accident, but there's no way i can hide from or distract from how completely soaked my lower half is.
"that's right," mommy says, not unkindly, but matter of fact, holding my wrist so i can't run into the house. "you had a really big peepee accident, didn't you? and now all the neighbors can see it. this is why we have to go potty before leaving the house, even if we're really excited."
"i'm sorry, mommy!" i gasp, still crying. "i'm sorry, i won't do it again. but i still have to make more peepee, i need to go inside!"
there's not really that much left in my bladder, but it's so sensitive and overstretched from holding it that it feels like i really have to go still.
"no, sweetheart. you decided today you were going to have an accident in your pants instead of using the potty. you can follow through on that decision, and finish going right here."
i look down, ashamed, as i do what mommy said. it's really hard for me to go potty standing up with my pants on on purpose, and it takes a few stops and starts before i can get the last couple spurts of liquid out of my bladder. they dribble down through my already soaked pants and drip under me in a pathetic little puddle.
i serve my time out after my bath sitting on the potty, sniffling as i think about how i have to wait to build my legos until tomorrow.
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