In Reply to: Bedwetting story 4 posted by Paul on May 12, 2004 at 20:45
A WET EASTER
I would like to tell you about a holiday I went on with my family when I was younger. While most of our holidays were taken at my parents beach house, one time we went on an extended Easter holiday with a group of other families - to a river camping ground specially set up for water skiing. I personally only ever got to try skiing once, because out of about seven or eight families there was only one boat, and it depended on how pushy your parents were as to how many turns you got. My parents weren't pushy at all, so I never really got to learn. I guess I wasn't really that keen anyway so I shouldn't just blame them.
During the day most of the others just hung around the boat hoping for a turn on the skis, but not being overly interested I often went for walks instead. There were several miles of parkland along the river bank, some areas with tents and caravans, but others with just trees and grass. It's really quite a beautiful place with lots of little sandy patches on the river bank to paddle in the water. I've been reading in the newspaper lately that with the expansion of Sydney the river has become quite polluted, but then the water was lovely and clear. That year I owned a skimpy bikini which was a deep shiny blue, but when I went for my walks I also wore a T-shirt, partly to avoid getting sunburnt, but also because I was a bit shy about my small breasts.
Needless to say, when I was away from all the others on my walks I didn't bother about finding toilets, but then maybe the real reason I went walking in the first place was so that I could 'christen' my new bikini. What I liked doing was squatting down, lifting the hem of my T-shirt up a bit, and watching my crotch while I let out tiny spurts. I liked looking at the little fountains of pee glistening on the shiny blue of my bikini bottoms, and then I would rub it into the material with one finger in a circular motion. I would do this several times and it always made me get excited. Then I would stand up and wander among the trees while a steady warm stream of pee ran down my legs. Just as I finished I would squat down again and rub myself to orgasm through my bikini.
One time after I had just wet myself, and was sitting relaxing on a fallen tree, I saw my brother coming to look for me. He said that we had to hurry back, but while we were walking he suddenly stopped for a minute. In a very matter of fact voice he suggested that maybe I should take a dip in the water so that it wasn't so obvious I had wet myself. I couldn't believe it, and in a mock denial asked what made him think I had wet my pants. He explained that he could always tell when I had been wetting because he could smell it, and there was a faint yellow tint along the hem of my T-shirt. He didn't think anyone else could tell though so I shouldn't be worried. It was all a bit embarrassing but he obviously didn't care, so I just rinsed myself off in the water.
Despite this little mistake, my secret outings were generally very successful, and I became more brazen and adventurous. I had a really strong desire to wet my jeans, but figured it was too risky, and had to settle for my denim shorts instead. I had initially thought to put them on over my bikini, but then decided that it would feel more like a real accident if I was wearing panties. For some reason it was an important part of my fantasy to pretend that I was having an accident, even though I did it in my pants on purpose. Before setting out from the caravan though, I stuffed my bikini bottoms in my pocket just in case I needed them.
I had been holding my pee for a few hours, and as soon as I was far enough away from the camp ground, I tried to relax my bladder as I walked along. I found it hard since I was so turned on, and already felt a bit hot and sticky between my legs. So I picked the stem from a piece of grass, and pretended to chew it, standing more or less in the one spot, and shuffling my feet from side to side. I made out like I was busy daydreaming, and just like a little girl, not paying any attention to other urgent needs.
Then it came! Like a tidal wave the hot pee gushed out into my panties and shorts, swirling around my pussy and clitoris, which was standing erect and hard amidst the flow. A wet stain immediately appeared on my crotch as the denim turned a deep shiny blue. At the same time hot streams poured out of both leg openings and down my thighs. I was in heaven! I was a little girl again, having an accident in my pants! As I squeezed my nipples through my tee shirt, I found that with the waves of pleasure pulsing out from my pussy, I was actually losing strength in my legs, and sinking steadily to the ground! It was an indescribable feeling that I have only repeated a few times since.
When my knees finally touched the ground, I jammed my hand down inside my pants, directly into the jet of hot pee. Just a few quick flicks on my clitoris and I was cumming. There I was, down on my knees, pissing my panties and shorts, and masturbating like there was no tomorrow. I knew I would feel guilty afterwards, but while the moment lasted, all I wanted was to be a naughty little girl!
Making sure no one had stumbled on my hiding place, I slipped out of my soaking wet panties and shorts, and changed into my bikini. It was fairly easy to slip back to the camp, and rinse them out under a tap. With all the swimming and skiing going on, no one thought twice about a pair of wet shorts hanging on the line.
When I was around the others and needed a pee I would just go and sit down in the water, or if I was sitting on the sand and was very close to the water (ie on wet sand) I would risk wetting my bikini and then quickly getting in the water. I don't think this is unusual for a lot of people, including people who aren't interested in pants wetting. By the end of this holiday my little blue bikini needed a thorough wash. I enjoyed this day wetting a lot more than the night wetting episode, and you'll soon see why.
Each family brought a caravan with them which usually had a large canvas annex attached to the side. A few of the families had really big caravans and annexes, and a routine was developed where the parents would stay up till late in one of these playing cards etc, while the kids were divided up into the two sexes and slept together in two other annexes. I'm not sure why we didn't sleep in the caravans, but I think the parents collectively decided that we would enjoy dormitory style sleeping more. I remember asking my mother if I could sleep on my own in our caravan, but she said I had to learn to be more sociable.
We slept on little stretcher beds with sleeping bags all jammed into a big annex. As you can expect there was a fair amount of talking till late so I was usually pretty tired before getting to sleep. In the mornings I liked to be one of the first ones up, and I'd usually go on a walk by myself. I was a pretty shy teenager and wasn't all that good at big social gatherings. The other reason for my early morning walk of course was that I wanted to get into my bikini and go off somewhere and wet myself. With all this daytime wetting activity the possibility of a bedwetting accident was always in the back of my mind, but I hadn't been doing it very much at the time, and I thought I would avoid that problem.
On the night in question however I woke up early as usual but this time I immediately became aware that I had wet the sleeping bag. I was so used to the feeling of waking up soaked in pee that at first I didn't think much of it, until I began to realise where I was. I felt the damage with my hands and discovered it was pretty bad, but when I opened up the top of the bag and looked in, I realised just what a problem I had. The smell of pee wafting out of the bag and into my face was really strong, but worse than that, my light coloured cotton pajamas displayed the wet stains really obviously. Even in the semi darkness inside the bag I could see where the wetness started.
I could hear that some of the other girls were starting to wake up, and I had no idea what to do. There was no way I could risk making a dash for the door because one of them might wake up, and I had no way of knowing who might be waiting outside the annex. I just had to lie there in the wetness and hope that I could think of something. Obviously the longer I waited the harder it would be but I didn't have much choice. I must have laid there for about an hour in my wetness, and I was getting quite itchy and uncomfortable. By then they were all awake and I was trying to be sociable. I had a girl on either side really close to me who seemed to want to have a conversation across me. And worst of all I was bursting to have my early morning pee!
I always had to pee first thing, so after an hour I was in great agony. Alone at home in my own bed I would have had no inhibitions about rewetting myself, and I certainly didn't care about the sleeping bag, but at home I at least had the plastic sheet under me. I decided to do just enough to ease the pressure, so while I was talking to one of the others I secretly started to let a few spurts go, but I scissored my legs up and down to try and spread the pee evenly throughout my pajamas and the sleeping bag. I gradually started to let the flow get stronger until I let it stream fairly hard for just a few seconds, and as I did I kept scissoring my legs and also used my hand to spread the pee around as best I could. What I was trying to avoid was the pee collecting in any one spot and soaking noticeably through the outside of the bag. If I just let it go while lying still, there was also a possibility that it might stream through the bottom of the bag and the stretcher bed. Can you imagine a little puddle forming under my bed?
So there I was lying in bed among about ten other girls, my head propped up on a couple of pillows trying to be friendly and sociable, while at the same time secretly spreading a stream of pee all around the inside of my sleeping bag. By the end of this I was absolutely soaked, but at least now I was a bit warmer. The pressure on my bladder was still fairly strong, but not unmanageable. Obviously if I had been doing this at home in my own bed it might have been enjoyable, but under those circumstances it definitely wasn't. It was fortunate that it didn't show through to the outside, but maybe I really didn't do that much - it's hard to say.
At home I often rewet my bed in the mornings, and I love it. In fact I often wet my bed in the morning, even when I haven't had an accident during the night! My mother expects me to be wet in the mornings anyway. Being labelled a bedwetter means I can get away with it and no one suspects anything. I love lying there, half awake and still a bit drowsy, pretending I'm just a little girl and I can't help it. I get into my favourite wetting position, and just enjoy myself!
Luckily soon after I finished, the two girls on either side of me got up to go to the bathroom. (Maybe I should have shown them an easier way!) There were still other girls in the annex so I couldn't get up, but I thought of another way to escape. Firstly I tied the opening of my sleeping bag tightly around my shoulders with my wet arm still inside the bag and my mostly dry arm free. Then I rolled over onto the stretcher beside me and quickly onto the ground between the wall of the annex and the stretcher. The wall hadn't been pegged down properly so it was quite easy to lift up the bottom and roll out. It was difficult to get to my feet, but with each foot pushed tightly into the corners I managed to stand. Half hopping and half walking I made my way to my parents caravan as quickly as I could until I was safe in the annex.
I was a little bit unsure of whether to knock on the door as they were certain to be asleep and I didn't really want to disturb them. I had not peed myself sufficiently before and was hopping up and down in the annex in desperate need. I was squeezing myself with the hand inside the sleeping bag but I was so strung out from the earlier events that I was finding it hard to get a grip on myself - both mentally and physically. In the end I decided it was hardly worth caring anymore, so I removed my hand, stood perfectly still, and totally piddled myself. I was pissing so hard that the tops of my legs felt like they were in a bath as the pee collected in the folds of my pajamas and the sleeping bag. Before long however, it all made its way down my legs to my feet which were soon standing in a puddle - the inside of the bag had temporarily filled up before it could soak through to the outside. Being in the privacy of the annex gave me the luxury of actually being able to enjoy what I was doing far more than I otherwise could have. After it was all over I knew I couldn't stay like that for ever so I sploshed my way over to the caravan and knocked on the door.
It took a little while to answer, but as soon as Mum saw me standing there she said 'You've wet it haven't you? You've ruined the sleeping bag.' All I could do was give her a weak little smile and ask to be let in. Standing there in the open area of the van I let the bag fall around my feet - I was almost dripping pee from every part of me, and I remember my Dad going on about how expensive sleeping bags were. I felt bad about wrecking the sleeping bag, but at least the embarrassment I felt in front of my parents was nothing to what I would have felt in front of all the other girls.
That morning Mum went off to do some shopping, but unbeknown to me, she had put a few 'special' items on her list. During the day I didn't think too much about what had happened, but as evening and bedtime approached I started to wonder about my sleeping arrangements - mainly because I no longer had a sleeping bag. I went over to the caravan and asked Mum what was going to happen. She looked at me and shook her head, and then asked if I would like to sleep in the caravan for the rest of the holiday. I did of course, but was stunned when she added that I could only stay there under one condition - I had to wear nappies and plastic pants!
What a decision! I had stopped wearing nappies to bed on a regular basis at 13, and had only had one other brief episode since then. I thought about it for a bit. I thought about what it would feel like to have Mum put it on me. I thought about what it would be like to once again lie in bed knowing I was wearing a nappy. But most of all I thought about what might happen if I needed to go to the bathroom. I agreed!
As she pinned me into my nappies about an hour later, I think something must have clicked permanently in my brain. Maybe it was when I had my knees pulled right back against my tits, and my legs spread wide apart. It could have been the feeling of the nappy as she pulled it tight between my thighs, or hearing her tell me to try and be a big girl. But then again, it might have been the sound and feel of the plastic pants as they got caught in my toes, or the scratchy feeling as she pulled them up my legs. Whatever it was, I knew I wanted them. I didn't understand it, but I realised for the first time that I desperately wanted to be put in a nappy and I wanted to wet my bed!
It rained that night - I remember! I can recall the pitter patter on the roof of the caravan, and the sound of the little streams running down the side and dripping onto the partially open window beside me. And I remember what was happening in my pants too! I had woken up to the sound of the rain, and in the cosiness of my bed I lay there and wet my nappy like a baby. In fact I wet my nappy every night for the rest of the holiday, and for a week after we got back home! I'm quite sure that if Mum hadn't insisted on taking them away, I would have very quickly regressed to chronic bedwetting.
But she only delayed the inevitable! I'm 21 now, and I wear nappies to bed every night. I have to. I'm a chronic bedwetter!
Email: pcwsp@ozemail.com.au