#bladder control
[10.24.2014]
“Drink five of those in the next ten minutes.” When Reaction Junkie pointed at my cup and ordered me to start having lots of water, I smiled. We were at the house party he was hosting for a bunch of kinky friends. I’d had a rough week, so I appreciated what I thought was Reaction Junkie engaging in the regular (and always enjoyable) bladder control and desperation that is part of our dynamic. I drank the water, and not long after, I felt the pressure building in my abdomen. I sat on the ground, and began rocking back and forth a little, attempting to distract myself from the feeling.
Reaction Junkie noticed my distress and started teasing me, “What’s wrong? Do you need to peeee?” I was a little embarrassed he was doing this in front of the party, even though I knew most of the people there fairly well. I pouted at him and said that of course I had to pee. He laughed, refused my request, and continued the teasing. At one point, he ordered me, “Go get a towel and one of your favorite shirts.” When I heard that, I realized this might not just be the normal bladder play I thought it was; he had something special in mind.
“Is he going to make me piss myself on the floor, in front of everyone?”, I thought. “No. He wouldn’t do that. Would he? Nah. It’d be too much of a mess. Right?” I refused his order to fetch the towel and shirt. Reaction Junkie gave me a look, and I managed to refuse again, but my will was weakening. He walked over to me, and I flinched, expecting to be hit for my disobedience. Instead, he started stepping on me, pressing down on my bladder. I was happy that he’d dropped the idea of making me get the towel and favorite shirt. Until he put more of his weight onto me, compressing my bladder further. I pleaded with him, “Please stop! I’m going to pee.”
Taking his foot off me, Reaction Junkie said, “Go sit on the toilet.” I was relieved for a moment until he added, “But don’t pee.” I whined, but got up and headed to the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and waited. Reaction Junkie came in after a moment and told me I’d better not piss. I nodded and said, “I’m not.” He went back into the living room and I tried to distract myself from the need to pee. I was determined to be a good girl for him, especially since he’d left the bathroom door open, so if I started to pee, everyone would be able to hear.
When Reaction Junkie returned a minute later and saw me rocking back and forth, focusing on not pissing, he grinned, amused by my distress. “Do you think we should invite other people to come see?” he asked. My eyes opened wide in horror, and I shook my head and said, “No!” He smirked at me and said, “Don’t pretend like you don’t want this.” Turning towards the open door, he called out, “Who wants to see [LFB] piss herself?” I felt my face growing hot as a group of people gathered around the door. A few I knew fairly well, like The Unknown Quantity, Anderson Cooper, and Cute Thing (one of Reaction Junkie’s other partners). Two others, I didn’t know at all. And one of them, Pretty Girl, was a lovely woman who bought me a drink a couple happy hours ago, and who I’m shyly interested in.
As the group of partners, friends, and acquaintances looked on, Reaction Junkie began pressing on me, cruelly compressing my full bladder, all the while telling me not to piss and making comments to the crowd. I held strong, but it was increasingly difficult. All of a sudden, he punched my abdomen. It wasn’t the hardest I’ve been punched, but neither was it gentle. I managed not to piss, but only just. I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes and my words. He reassured the crowd that even though it seemed like he was being mean to me, he was actually fulfilling a fantasy. I felt embarrassed to have this fantasy revealed. Then I saw something in his face that told me what was going to happen next. He was going to read from my tumblr post about the fantasy he was currently fulfilling.
I didn’t want the additional humiliation of having him read out my fantasy to the group. Not only would they know that he really was fulfilling a fantasy, that this was something I wanted to happen, I knew I’d be uncomfortable having my writing read aloud, and, of course, there was the fear that they would find my tumblr and I’d be entirely exposed as a disgusting, fucked up little bitch. Reaction Junkie took out his phone and I said, “No, don’t read it. You can’t!” He turned to face me, his expression making me cower. *SMACK* He slapped me hard across the face. “Did you just try to tell me what I can and can’t do?” he asked. Suitably chastened and feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, I shook my head and responded in a small voice, “No, dear.”
He pulled up my post and began reading, “”No, you may not use the bathroom.” He ignores my desperate pleas as the 5 bottles of water he made me drink before the party quickly catch up with me…” I looked at the floor as he read, embarrassed on multiple levels. Reaction Junkie noticed. “Look everyone in the eye,” he ordered. I took a deep breath, steeling myself to look up and see the faces staring back at me. Feeling humiliated, I complied with his instructions, making eye contact with each person in turn. My thoughts were racing as I searched their expressions for what they were thinking. I saw mostly amusement and interest, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
When Reaction Junkie got to a part of my fantasy where the character representing me speaks, he imitated me teasingly, “Please let me pee? It’s starting to hurt and I’m worried I’m going to wet myself.” These “cute” imitations are something that he and I have discussed repeatedly. He is not supposed to do them, and when he does, he gets punished. So, in the middle of him dominating, embarrassing, degrading, and humiliating me, I made him stop reading and lean his head down. I licked his face, which is something he finds very unpleasant and has been a common punishment for behavior such as this. “Sorry, sir.” he said in his little subby boy voice. The gathered crowed laughed and someone said, “Your dynamic is so hot.”
Of course, immediately after his punishment was over, Reaction Junkie continued reading. And I continued being uncomfortable. Now, instead of imitating me when he got to my parts of the dialogue, Reaction Junkie did something worse. He made me read my lines, all while continuing to look this crowd of friends, acquaintances, and near strangers in the eyes. He read the entire story, with me on the toilet next to him, squirming and uncomfortable for so many reasons. I had to pee, of course, but I was also turned on and embarrassed about what he was reading and that he was reading something I’d written to this group of people.
When he finally finished, reading out the last line of the fantasy, “Happy birthday, pisswhore,” I was looking down, almost distracted from the urge to piss. then he said, “I wonder if we could all fit in here. I wanted to make her piss in the tub.” I shook my head, not wanting the further humiliation of everyone filling the bathroom and watching me piss, with the added embarrassment of not being allowed to piss in the toilet like a person. The Unknown Quantity decided to chime in, “Yeah. I think we can all fit.” Reaction Junkie grinned and told me, “Sit on the edge of the tub.” I was reluctant, but didn’t want another slap or additional punishment, so I moved over to the bathtub.
The crowd filed in and someone shut the door. Now I was sitting on the rim of the tub, holding onto the sink to position myself to sit into it. And everyone was looking right at me. Reaction Junkie slid his hand between my legs and teased my cunt with his fingers. “Look how turned on she is, ” he said to the crowd. Turning back to me, he put his hand in my face, “You’re soaked. Smell this.” I obeyed, but looked down, thoroughly embarrassed and a little ashamed. Reaction Junkie said, “Look at everyone.” I did, my face growing hot as I looked at the people who now knew just how wet I was from the treatment I was receiving.
Reaction Junkie gave me another instruction, adding to my discomfort, “Spread your legs so everyone can see.” Slowly, reluctantly, I opened myself up. I felt vulnerable and exposed, and even half-closed them a few times. Each time, however, I spread them apart again when I saw Reaction Junkie’s face. He considered for a moment, and then asked, “Should I go get a vibrator?” I shook my head, actually upset. I didn’t think I’d be able to get off like this, or, if I could, I worried it would take so long that people would get bored. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle that in addition to the stress of the situation. He saw the expression on my face and recognized what I needed. “Nah, that will take too long,” he said. “Now piss.”
I started to try and let go, to start peeing in the tub. I kept my eyes focused on him alone, not wanting to look anyone else in the eye while I pissed in the tub. “Don’t look at me. Look at Pretty Girl,” Reaction Junkie said, ordering me to look the girl I like right in the eyes. The first time we’d hung out outside of happy hour, and she was about to see me piss myself. I looked at her, complying with his instructions. Reaction Junkie ordered me to pee again. I tried, but just couldn’t let go. “I don’t know. I can’t.” I said to him. “Oh, you better,” he responded, “You better piss yourself in front of all these people.”
I was worried about what people would thing, how they’d see me differently. Finally, the need to pee overcame my desire not to do so like this, in front of all these people. The piss streamed out of me, splashing into the tub as I emptied my bladder, a group of people watching my degradation and humiliation. Finally, the stream slowed to a trickle, then drops, and finally, it stopped. Reaction Junkie asked if I needed toilet paper. I said, “Yes, please.” When he handed it to me, I looked at it and said, “Not the one ply! Red!” making everyone laugh. Then I wiped, adding one final embarrassment to the day. Everyone filed out, leaving Reaction Junkie and I alone together. I was filled with a mix of emotions. Arousal, shame, amusement, embarrassment, gratitude, and, of course, happiness. How could I not be happy? Reaction Junkie had just literally made one of my fantasies come true.
I can’t wait to see what he’ll do for my actual birthday.
I’ve given Reaction Junkie control over my bladder whenever we’re together/in the same physical space. So when we went to his friend’s birthday party on Saturday afternoon, I knew I was going to have to ask his permission to pee. We got to the party and I foolishly drank a pop, then a couple glasses of wine. I could feel myself starting to have to go, and I figured I’d ask before it got too urgent, since I had a feeling the initial answer would be “No.”
And of course, I was correct. Not only did he say “No,” he also told me, “Ask again in an hour.” I briefly whined, but the pressure wasn’t too bad, so I went back to my conversation. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I started actually needing to go, but I knew it wasn’t an hour. By this point, quite a few more people had arrived at the party, including Anderson Cooper and the lady dom I’d gone to the spa with. I sidled up to Reaction Junkie, who was talking to Anderson Cooper, and asked permission.
“No,” he responded, and then added “Jump up and down." "Noooo,” I whined. “Is she talking back?” asked Anderson Cooper, being mischievous/an ass. “No…” I said, although, yes, I was. But I didn’t want to misbehave, especially not in front of a group of people. So when Reaction Junkie told me, “Do ten jumping jacks," I complied. "How do you feel now?” he asked when I was done. “Better, thanks,” I replied. That wasn’t a complete lie, and I returned to my conversation suitably distracted for a while.
I asked again not too long after, and this time Reaction Junkie said I could go if I went outside. He thought that was a hilarious option, and even asked the woman whose house we were at if that was okay. I pouted and continued talking with people, but I was starting to really need to go. Finally, I turned to Reaction Junkie and said, “I can go if I go outside?” He confirmed that I could, but when he double-checked with the people who lived there, we got a no go on me pissing in their backyard.
I bounced and asked, “Has it been an hour?” It had, but he wanted to make me wait longer. “It’s 5:23,” he told me. “Can you wait until 6:00?” I told him that no, I could not. “How about 5:30?” I started to say that I couldn’t wait that long, but that wasn’t true, so I told him I could. He told me I could go. Before he let me, though, he was going to have some more fun with me. He started pressing on my bladder, which not only made my need to piss worse, but it turned me on. I moaned softly and whimpered at him, enjoying the pain/pleasure of having my full bladder compressed. It’s one of the most arousing things someone can do to me.
He was talking to other people, and told them “I don’t know why she gave me this power, but she did!” Obviously, I gave him that power because I knew it would result in lots of fun for me and for him. And, of course, I was right. He finally let me get up to go to the bathroom, but before he did, he grabbed me around the midsection and squeezed hard one last time, making me groan and shiver a little before I said, “You’re gonna need to stop.” He nearly made me piss myself. He stopped and told me to go, and I skipped off to the bathroom, super pleased to have had one of my favorite kinks satisfied.
Hehehehe just explained about gunplay and bladder control to Reaction Junkie’s ‘nilla friends.
Their responses were so amazing.
Boredom allows creativity. Fortunately for me, it leads my husband to find new and creative ways to play with me. I text him that I’m bored at work and he instructs me to find binder clips to attach to my nipples. We were bored at a party over the weekend. The party was boring and full of self-important people. I didn’t want to be rude and leave so soon after arriving and husband was willing to indulge me up to a point.
Halfway through the three hours we were there he instructs me to drink two more bottles of water. He’s so thoughtful. After chugging them down I get up to go find a bathroom and he grabs my wrist. He looks at me and says that I don’t have permission to go. I sit back down and my bladder is uncomfortable and swollen and I start bouncing in my seat to distract myself from the feeling. I make small talk with random people for the next hour and a half and I continue to feel more and more uncomfortable. Husband smirks his way through the rest of the party. We finally leave and start the long slow drive back to our house, hitting every pothole on the way.
We pull up to our house and I’m out of the car before it even stops. I race up to the door and then stand there stupidly. I don’t have the key. I hop from one foot to the other, urging husband to hurryhurryhurry.
He ignores my pleading. He stops at the door and instead of opening it, he turns to me and tells me to piss myself. I laugh it off because that’s completely ridiculous. The bathroom is literally ten feet away! If I held it this long I can hold it till he opens the door. He crosses his arms over his chest and silently stares me down. I hop on my feet and stare back. He leans against the door and waits. I finally realize he isn’t joking and stop hopping. I let go and my face burns with shame and embarrassment. It runs down my legs and pools in my shoes. I look down because I can’t look him in the eye anymore. And then I hear the door open and he’s already stepped through it. He didn’t wait for me to finish.
Unf. So fucking hot. Bladder control and desperation are at the top of my list of kinks.
Youse guise. I’m pretty drunk. I’m having a shitton of fun, though. Now we’re at a gay bar/kinky happy hour and I may be in heaven. Also Reaction Junkie tortured me with permission to piss and squeezing my bladder and he’s the bestworst. Like for rull.
Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy and I rejoined the party. We walked over to a group of happy hour folks and started talking. I really enjoy knowing a bunch of people, even if I’m shit at keeping names and faces straight. Boy Genius and I were slated to have a scene, so we started moving towards that goal. He got distracted talking to people, and while I was standing around watching, a guy I didn’t know came up and introduced himself. We got to talking and shared our kinks, and when caning came up, he asked if I wanted to be caned. I hesitated, unsure about doing impact with a total stranger, but then said that I would after my scene with Boy Genius. I looked over to him and signaled that I wanted to get started.
We walked over to the mat and I stripped. Boy Genius jokingly tried to engage my misogyny kink, but I told him “Don’t even try. That’s not your specialty.” He laughed and grabbed some rope. He tied me with my hands behind my back, arms bent, one elbow up, one down, and lowered me to the floor. He tied my legs tight and then grabbed them and put them on his shoulder. He doesn’t usually do impact, so I was pleasantly surprised when he started warming me up. He hit me with one of the quiet drumsticks (?) and spanked me. Then he pulled out a cane, which got me excited, since I do enjoy a good beating. He hit me a bunch, including a few times I briefly considered yellowing.
Finally, he had me pick a number between six and ten. I said “Seven.” “Are you sure?” he asked. I said yes, and he said “Okayyyy…” He hit me hard with the cane and said, “Seven!” loudly, followed less loudly by “Six, five, four, three, two, one.” With each number he said quietly, he struck me again, more softly. This wasn’t what I had been expecting, but I was pleasantly surprised. “Six!” Hard hit. “Five, four, three, two, one.” Softer hits. He repeated this down all the way to “One!” where he struck me the hardest. We ended the scene, chatted and laughed for a while, since I don’t really need aftercare for something like that, and then I went to find some more people to talk with.
I spent the rest of the night in conversation with people, some old, some new. At one point during the evening, I was talking with Reaction Junkie and Anderson Cooper. Reaction Junkie said that Anderson Cooper and I should play, and Anderson Cooper responded that he hadn’t topped in six months. Reaction Junkie responded, “Who said you’re topping?” and I told Anderson Cooper, “That’s pretty presumptuous. He offered you to me as a bottom.” I wouldn’t object to being topped by him, but he’s super fucking adorable, so I definitely want to try hurting him and ordering him around.
A little while after I returned from being outside, the guy who had asked if he could cane me earlier in the night must have noticed that I’d finished my scene with Boy Genius because he came over and asked if I was ready to play. I didn’t feel like it, but felt some weird internal pressure to do it since I’d said I would. I was about to go off with him, but then I decided to just be upfront and told him that I didn’t want to. He graciously accepted my decision and walked away. By this point, I had to pee, and since Reaction Junkie was there, I had to ask his permission. When I looked for him, however, he was busy, so I couldn’t ask. I told a couple people about it and they were highly amused by my discomfort. Ah, friendship.
As I looked around, I saw The Violinist sitting in a chair. We had plans to go back to his place after the party, and I’d seen him earlier in the evening and then lost track of him. When I walked up to say hello, he grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap and continued his conversation. I listened to the conversation and participated a little for a while until Anderson Cooper walked over. The Violinist stood up for a hug. I was slightly off to the side, but I got pulled in between them and they squished me. Oh no, being the meat in a “dudes I’d totally bang” sandwich. Pure torture! I was pretty happy about it. The Violinist pulled me back onto his lap and, when I told him about having to piss but not being able to, he squeezed my bladder a little, which I enjoyed.
Finally, I saw that Reaction Junkie was free. I chased him down (Almost literally. I had to walk half way around the room because we were both going clockwise.) and asked for permission. He pointed at the bottle of water I was holding and told me, “Yes, but you have to finish that first.” I pouted briefly and he told me I could just go, but he’d given me the instruction and I wanted to be good, so I said, “No, I’m gonna do it.” I chugged the thing as quickly as I could and speedwalked through the rope, beatings, and naked folks to the bathroom.
When I was done, I headed back over to The Violinist. We decided it was time to go, and I started saying goodbyes to people. I saw The Unknown Quantity and walked up to him and gave him a hug. He’d been talking with The Queene, and she said, “No hug for me?” I gasped, apologized, and said of course there was a hug for her. I’m really happy that she seems to like me because she’s an awesome lady. I said bye to a couple other people, hugged Reaction Junkie and said goodnight, and then The Violinist headed to his place for more fun.
I haven’t been feeling very owned lately, so I’ve been disobeying Reaction Junkie more frequently, often forgetting my role and refusing to do what he tells me to, resisting his commands, and complaining about his orders. We’ve both been super busy and stressed preparing for our move this coming Saturday, so hasn’t had any extra time or energy to invest in our d/s dynamic to make me feel owned, and I haven’t had the resources to put in the extra time and energy I’d need to keep myself in line better and remind myself that he owns me. He told me that after we move, he’ll be able to work on the d/s with me more, and I know I’ll be better able to remind myself of my place, especially if he sets up some reoccurring tasks, assignments, and rules.
In the meantime, he did add a couple of things. In addition to having to get on my knees and help him take his shoes off when we get in the door, now every morning I have to crawl and bring him his shoes to put on. Also, on Saturday, while we were packing, he told me that for the rest of the day, I couldn’t just call to him from another room, asking for permission to pee. Instead, I had to come over to him each time so he could test how badly I had to go by pressing on my bladder. I’m going to keep doing that, both at home and while we’re out, even though he said it was for just that day.
Finally, I now have to post at least one picture a day on tumblr. It can’t be the same thing everyday. Some days a body shot, some days a tit pic, some days a cunt picture, some days a close up of a bruise, etc. And underneath the picture, I need to write something that will help me remember that he owns me, that I owe him my obedience, that I’m his to use as he will, that he has control over me, that I should happily do what he tells me, and so on. I think the daily picture will be especially helpful to remind me that I am an owned little feminist bitch.
Daily Picture Assignment #155
Happy hour outfit from last week. And yes, this dress has motherfucking pockets!
The final, and trickiest, context in which I need to show my submission is while out in public. Non-kinky public, that is.
Of course, one of the main ways I submit in public is by wearing the collar my owner put on me. I wear it all the time, to work, to see my parents, to go to the doctor. Its presence is a constant reminder that I am owned. It may just look like a (kind of strange) necklace to most people, but it’s also a signal to anyone in the know that I belong to someone. In addition, I submit in public when I wear outfits that my owner has picked out or inspired. The instructions may happen in private, but when we’re out and about, he can simply look at me to see an example of his power and control over me.
Another way I can submit while in public is by doing things for my owner. When he asks me to do something, I should recognize that he’s phrasing it as a question and adding the polite trappings of “please” simply because we’re in public. In reality, he’s giving me an order, so I should quickly and happily do as he asks. I should also be proactive in my submission, doing things for him without him needing to ask. I can certainly do this in public, since it will just look like I’m being a loving and attentive partner. Which is true, but I’m also being a good girl.
While in public, I can still follow through with one of the central aspects of my submission to my owner, asking permission to pee. It isn’t quite the same as when we’re among like-minded people or at home, since he can’t press on my bladder or taunt and tease me as openly. I’m still required to get permission before I piss, though, either quietly so no one can hear, or by phrasing it in a socially acceptable way, such as “Is it okay if go to the bathroom real quick?” And, of course, my owner can still deny me that permission, forcing me to try to hide my growing desperation.
Finally, someone on tumblr (Thank you, stryger1, who I can’t seem to actually @) sent me an ask with a suggestion that I thought was a really good idea. I ran it by my owner, and he liked it, as well. So, from now on, when we’re together, I have to wait for permission from my owner before I can start eating a meal. When we’re in private or with kinky folks, I won’t start eating until he tells me I may, or, at least until this becomes more of a habit, I will ask him out loud for permission. In public, or with non-kink friendly people, I will look at my owner and wait until he gives me a nod to indicate that I may start eating.
I may not be able to be as overt with my submission in public, but if I keep my place and purpose in mind, and follow through with the ideas above, I can still show my owner that I am always his, am always submissive to him, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.
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“No, you may not use the bathroom.” He ignores my desperate pleas as the 5 bottles of water he made me drink before the party quickly catch up with me. He tells me to stop bothering him and let him talk to people. Before I can ask again, he grabs me around the middle and squeezes me against him, continuing his conversation as if nothing is happening. I moan from the pain-tinged arousal that always results from having my full bladder compressed. The other people in the group hide their smiles and stifle their laughter, but I blush anyway, embarrassed for them to know how much this is turning me on. When he lets go, I stand next to him and dance from leg to leg as I try to focus on the conversation.
When it starts to hurt, I say in a quiet voice, “Please let me pee? It’s starting to hurt and I’m worried I’m going to wet myself.” He tells me to speak up, that it’s rude to whisper in a group. I look down at the floor, my cheeks flushed, but there’s no denying the way my cunt feels as I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, “May I please pee? It really hurts and…and I’m worried I’m going to wet myself.” He grins at me, enjoying my distress, and turns to the group, “Should I let her go to the bathroom?” he asks. The others laugh and respond, half kind, half cruel.
He considers for a moment before saying, “Let’s compromise. You may piss, but you may not use the bathroom. Sit on the floor.” He points towards the wall. I stare at him, not understanding. He gives me one of those looks and says more sharply, “Sit on the floor. Back against the wall. And spread your legs so everyone can see.” I slowly walk to the other side of the room, my bladder aching, and position myself as instructed.
The whole party is looking at me now. He walks over to me and says, “Go ahead. You have permission to piss.” “But…but I can’t. Not in front of everyone! You have to let me go to the bathroom, please!” I respond in horror. He grabs my hair, forcing me to look at him, and slaps me in the face. “Did you just refuse? And tell me what I ‘have’ to do? I think you’re forgetting how this works.” He slides his hand under my panties and continues, half turning to the group, “Besides, I can tell how much you want to do this. Your cunt is fucking soaking. You know what? Since this is your birthday party, not only am I going to forgive you for the backtalk, I’m going to be extra nice.” He hands me a vibrator. “Hold this on your clit. In addition to permission to piss, you also have permission to cum.”
Thoroughly embarrassed now, but reminded of my place by his voice and the slap, I turn on the toy and press it against my throbbing clit. I close my eyes, still feeling the pressure of everyone looking at me, and attempt to relax my muscles, trying to focus on the vibrations running through my cunt. After a minute, I’m finally able to let go. As soon as I do, I feel the relief of my emptying bladder as my panties are soaked in warm piss. I look up to see everyone watching, some people amused, some aroused, some disapproving. The humiliation and arousal and release of finally, finally being allowed to pee overwhelm me and I cum hard, legs shaking, body trembling, head pressed back against the wall.
When I’m finally feel able to think again, still shivering with aftershocks, legs gone numb, I slowly open my eyes to see him crouched over me, smiling, “Happy birthday, pisswhore.”
You try to use your fake ID to get a drink. That’s when you discover the item’s cursed properties.
You wet your pants halfway through the beer. You can still hold your bladder, but will have random accidents throughout the day.
Your age decreases by 3 years. You were 19 before. Now you are 16. Your fake ID reflects your new birthdate. You lose an inch off your height, and your facial hair thins to whiskers. Someone else lives in your dorm room now. You live at your parents house again. Your college textbooks are replaced by high school homework. Your parents, friends and teachers only seem to remember 16-year-old you.
You get used to the changes. The accidents are the worst part, but you learn to quickly clean up after them.
You thought you could live with the curse. But it had only begun to take effect.
A day later you got horny, so you went to your favorite porn website. The page asked if you were 18 years or older. You clicked the “Enter” button.
Before you could find a good video, you feel your cock stir. You cum prematurely.
Your age decreases 4 years. You are 12 now. Your fake ID is now a library card. You body is completely smooth, and you can’t seem to get yourself hard. You occasionally have wet dreams.
You wet the bed more often. Your parents force you to wear diapers during the night. And training pants during the day. You relive middle school for a week.
You get fed up and take your parents care for a drive. You turn the key, but discover your feet can’t reach the pedal.
Your age decreases 5 years. You are 7 now. Your parents keep you diapered 24/7, and constantly work on potty training you. But you can never hold it.
In your first grade math lesson, you painstakingly scribble the ages you’ve regressed with your uncoordinated hand. 19, 16, 12, and 7.
It took you this long to understand the curse. If you don’t act your age, the effects get stronger.
One more mistake, and you will be 1 year old.
Image credit: Lil-toddler.
Closer rest stops equals wetting accident if you watch what happened you’ll hear the splashing on the floor as I lose control!
Bicycling as fast as I could but it was no use! Warm pee started cascading down my thighs, over my knees, and puddling into my socks and sneakers with each push of the pedals!
After a day out for afternoon mimosas with some of the girls I work with I rushed home to pee Thinking I had enough time to make it home. So desperate to go I scramble out of my car almost losing my balance and shortly after spurts of pee started soaking my skintight jeans as I make my way to the front door. Once I started it was almost like a waterfall drenching ever inch of my pants. What was the point in stopping once that release started with my body relaxing relief I decided to Finnish right there in broad daylight. When I was done it was time to clean up so I just rinsed all my clothes completely off in the shower..
I can’t hold it any more I’m about to burst any second as I’m typing this im bouncing around struggling to hold it all in I need to goooo
Fuck starting off my day by being in the bathroom but not using it has always been so torturous
I’m gonna try to hold my morning pee until I have to head out but I can’t guarantee this will be a long hold I really need to pee
Uh oh good morning everyone I drank too much last night and now I’m bursting at the seams I need to go potty so badly right now I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.
Another day another experience this one was actually kind of dangerous I stopped by my close friends house to hang out and watch stuff together. I ended up spending most of the day there which meant I eventually did end up drinking lots of fluids specifically 6 or 7 glasses of soda. I hadn’t really noticed how much I drank until we were watching one of his favorite shows he’s been trying to get me into. I tried my best to hold it until we finished the season but not having any clue of how many episodes there were I was starting to panic a bit so I tried to get up to go pee. Well he was not a fan of that idea. Since I had been putting off watching his favorite show he didn’t want me to miss a single episode (despite each episode having a different premise ) so he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back towards to bed and told me that I really needed to see these next few episodes because they were his favorite. I didn’t really want to wet myself especially not in someone else’s house so I told him that I really had to pee and that I’d be quick. He then replied by saying that he was not in the mood to pause and that I could hold it. By this point my face is all hot and even though I really gotta go I sat back down and continued to hold it a little longer. We continued to watch the next 3 episodes as I sat there squirming my bladder full to the brim trying not to let a single drop out but eventually I really couldn’t take it anymore I told him I needed to go right now so I stood up to head towards the door but he tried to block me by grabbing me by the hips. Bad move I’m really sensitive there so I started to do a little dance as I struggled to push him out of the way before he finally submitted and said I could go. I ran down the hall to his bathroom and closed the door behind me I didn’t even turn the lights on I just did my best to get my pants off which was already a struggle and was finally able to relieve myself of the piss that was overfilling my poor bladder. When I finally returned to the room he asked me if I felt better to which I replied “fuck yea”. It was quite the experience and if anything it really makes me look at him in a different light though this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had these feelings for him he’s much bigger than me in height and a very nice guy
