Stories

Below you can find the list of stories sorted from newest to oldest. You can use page navigation at the bottom of this page, filter by author or tag.


Challenging Myself
By: Holdingon (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

As some of you may know, I really enjoy frantic desperation– a man's or mine. Generally I do my monster holds at home as I have never wet myself as an adult and I can't imagine the public embarrassment. I have often wondered if I am really holding my maximum when I do this, as I know that the toilet and measuring jug are near by when I am home and full. I decided to do something different today. I went to visit a friend about 300 miles away for the weekend. We had fun but frankly, it was a little boring. So this morning I decided to set a few rules for the trip– no stopping at all– and I must consume 12 oz. of liquid every half an hour. I also knew that as I became more and more desperate the feelings would…

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Just a Boring Sunday Afternoon
By: Holdingon (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

It has been a long weekend and I am now a bit bored. Memories from last Sunday's monster hold make me feel warm and that makes me want to ride the piss wave of beautiful agony again. I was going to give my bladder a break but an opportunity came up so, I decide to try another hold. Not as long as last week, I know that I will never hold out at home like I did in the car. Having a toilet nearby is too much temptation for me. I am going to really push the fluid though – 20 ounces every half hour, 8 ounces more each half hour than last week's hold. Maybe it will fill me fuller, faster. Here are my notes. 1 pm – I open a diet coke, a friend comes by to take me shopping. She goes to the bathroom and complains…

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Life is Good
By: King Neptune (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

'Life is good,' thought Bill Williams as he cruised down the freeway. The college girls in the red convertible had slowed alongside his service van, allowing him a good look at their bikini clad bodies as they headed for a day at the beach. He was pretty sure the redhead had to pee, at least that's what she said to her friend who was driving. Bill really liked girls who needed to pee. The way she had been wriggling on the seat, he believed her! Bill worked all over Southern California doing bank maintenance for a national company. The job offered varied scenery, good pay and freedom in scheduling his time. The fringe benefits of driving the Southern California freeways had to be seen to be believed. He had…

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A Close Call
By: Mikey (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

I know the title of the story kind of gives away the ending, but nonetheless this was my most recent desperation sighting. A month ago or so my girlfriend invited me to hang with her and her friends one night. They were throwing a small bachelorette party for this one girl who was getting married in a couple of months. I was to be the only guy hanging out with these women on this night. They all liked me and didn't mind having me around. I would be kind of chauffeuring them around later that night as well. I met my girlfriend Ashley at about nine o'clock or so and headed over to this one girl's house where everyone was gathering. In thinking about the evening, it never crossed my mind that being around all…

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The Trip to the Doctor
By: PeeGuy (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

After experiencing more bladder problems in the last few weeks than ever before in their entire adult lives, Joan, Patty, George, and Paula each made an appointment with their local doctor to see what is wrong. They were told to arrive with their bladders full so to enable them to provide a fresh urine sample. It is a windy rainy day and traffic is backed up for miles. Joan arrives at the office first, needing to pee very badly, although not yet desperate. She is wearing a blue sweater and dark grey slacks. She walks in trying to be as composed as possible– while taking slow, awkward steps over to the desk. As she waits for the receptionist to get off the phone she has her legs pressed together and is ever so…

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When the Dealer Must Hold
By: PeeSpy (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

A few years ago when my wife and I were still living in the UK, we used to go to casinos fairly regularly. At one particular casino, which we used to go to quite often, there was a female croupier who was always very jovial and chatty, very different from the sour–faced type that many of them seem to be. Even though she (usually) still managed to take our money, it was always more fun when she was dealing, and all the regular customers knew her quite well, my wife and I included. I'll call this croupier Sally for the purpose of telling you about the incident, she was about 20 years old, she did tell us her age once, but I can't remember. She was nicely slim and had long, slightly curly, blonde hair, and a…

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The Bird Women Part 3
By: PhilHerUp (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

CHAPTER V – The Bird Women The following evening capped off a long day for Katie. Those two months had been so bleak and hopeless for the once–serene girl, now that she had found a ray of hope, she'd found herself clinging so fiercely to it that she was beginning to get paranoid about things slipping away once again. It was two minutes to the start of Free Hour, and Katie had been pacing furiously back and forth across the floor of her hideout, praying that Penny would be there and that she'd had better luck than Katie in tracking down recruits; Katie hadn't seen Lisa or Caryn at all that day. Her fears subsided a bit when a tall, stocky girl with blonde curls appeared in the doorway. Initially terrified…

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Loose Ends
By: May (31 Aug 2003, Sunday)

First– a big Thank you to all of the people who have sent us their best wishes. We apologize if we have been unable to reply to you personally since by publishing our e–mail address we have attracted a spate of adverts to make big willies or illicit CDs or see pictures of naughty women and we delete these. Some of your replies may have been amongst the twenty or so we now get each week. Second– we must also apologize to those who have taken all of our tales as complete truth. In order to join them together we have had to fabricate some sections but each one has a kernel of what really happened. Our children are not really called Stanley and Hilda; neither are we Robert and May. I hope we are forgiven for this…

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Becky's Little Accident
By: Becky (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

My name is Becky. I'm a Dutch national and a twenty–four year old PA to an advertising executive in Reading, UK, where I live with my boyfriend Marcus, a university tutor who is sixteen years older than me. The following is a true account of a wetting accident that I had in public last month. It was a warm Saturday afternoon and I had been enjoying lunch at a riverside restaurant with three girlfriends. Marcus had promised to pick me up on his way back from work at 2:30pm but was late, so at 2:50pm I was standing alone in the car park waiting for him. I had drunk three glasses of wine at lunch and was feeling pleasantly merry, but also in desperate need of a wee. I had declined to use the facilities in the…

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Interview Distress
By: Gillian (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

10:00 AM. Jenny rose off her couch, still in her nightgown, barely out of bed, and walked over to the window. She peered outside at the early summer day, clouds puffy and white in the sky, people walking along the busy street in the harried pace of the office employee, heads down, moving with purpose along the sidewalks. Moving from the window to her dining table, she picked up her resume and read it once again, double–checking for spelling errors and considering yet again rewriting her summary to put a different slant on her skills. The interview was at 12:00 noon downtown, about a mile away from her upscale apartment and Jenny was nervous. She needed a job, and the economic woes had made them scarce to come…

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The Girly-Gang Gets Kidnapped
By: Katykins (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

This story contains Female Desperation, Accidental Wetting, Fear Wetting and Humiliation. Emily bounced down the college steps and out towards the car park. It had been a typically boring Friday and she was eager forget all about her Business Studies course and concentrate on the evening ahead. She was a little bit late out of school because she had changed out of her Sixth Form uniform in the Ladies' toilets. Now she was wearing a light pink sleeveless tee shirt, tight black stretch–cotton skirt and strappy platforms. She'd put on a little glitter spray too because they were going into town. "Emmy, there you are, girl!!" It was her best friend, Hayley. She'd had a free period before school finished and was…

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How I Started
By: LovesCotton (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

Hi. I have been lurking here for quite some time, and love all the stories. Then I thought I should post some of my memories, as I always thought other people were rude if they lurked and didn't play "show & tell!" So here goes. I grew up on a secluded New Zealand farm, very steep country, but lovely native forest with sparkling streams and rivers. This story is from my favorite place in the world! It is from early on in my wetting, back when it was more fun than sexual. I hope you like it. I guess I first got interested in wetting my panties at an early age, too. I remember growing up on our farm, and a lot of the time I would be left to my own for long periods of time. Summer was the best time of the year.…

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Vicky had a Horrible Bus Ride
By: Luvnoir (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

It was 1960 when Vicky climbed aboard a Greyhound Bus affiliate that connected her hometown to the main line. It was the cheapest way for Vicky to get to Philadelphia where she had acquired a job writing copy for an advertising agency. It was a Friday morning and she had to report Monday morning at 8:00AM sharp. With the help of her parents she had already arranged for lodging in Philly and she had an advance in cash from her daddy to last until she got her feet on the ground. It was the best she could do with her recent Baccalaureate Degree in English and she was very excited about her prospects. She couldn't imagine a better starting point. Vicky was 22 years of age, 5 feet 6 inches tall, and 120 pounds of…

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The Motorway Service Area
By: Paul Tester (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

Some time ago I had a temporary job trying to sell motoring services and products on a motorway service area. The marketing organization I was working for thought that motorists stopping for a break would be a soft target and a captive market. In fact it was a thankless and badly paid job, and most people soon became disheartened and left. I stayed longer than anyone, despite the miserable job, because a few of the people arriving at the service area were desperate for a pee, and this job paid me to stand around and watch for this. Below are the best of these sighting, collected over about six months, together with my thought on what I saw. All of these are true sightings, and I apologize in advance for the…

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Desperate to Pee on the Tappan Zee
By: PeeGuy (31 Jul 2003, Thursday)

The Tappan Zee is a 3–Mile long bridge on the Hudson River north of New York City. The traffic is always backed up and since there is no way off, I have often imagined people stuck and desperate. I have used my previous characters again and you can check out my other stories for their descriptions. George, Patty, Joan and Paula are all sitting in traffic on the Tappan Zee Bridge, all having to pee so badly they don't to what to do. They are each coming home from a long holiday weekend and are casually, but nicely dressed. Joan is wearing a white sweatshirt with a sailboat on it, a pink sweater tied around her shoulders and tan shorts. George is wearing a reddish/pink button down shirt and tan slacks. Patty is…

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