| Title:
| Trip to New York
|
| Name:
| Seth
|
| Email:
| wetkid@gmail.com
|
| Gender:
| Male
|
| Current Age:
| 19
|
| Posting Date:
| 11/23/08
|
| Story Contents:
|
| A- Post-toddler (4-8)* | | R- Sisters, other girls* |
| | B- Pre-teen (9-12)* | ● | S- Babysitters |
| | C- Teen (13-17) | ● | T- Masturbation |
| | D- Adult (18+) | | U- Sexual situations |
| | E- Cloth diapers* | | V- Gay |
| | F- Disposable diapers | ● | W- Erections |
| | G- Pee | ● | X- Bedwetting | ●
| | H- Poop* | | Y- Accidents | ●
| | I- Exposed diapers/pantslessness* | | Z- Punishment/Diaper Discipline |
| | J- Multiple diapers* | | 1- Female Domination* |
| | K- Baby paraphernalia | | 2- Enemas |
| | L- Mother | | 3- Restraints |
| | M- Father | | 4- Crying |
| | N- Aunt | ● | 5- Spanking |
| | O- Uncle | | 6- Humiliation |
| | P- Brothers (diapered) | ● | 7- Babying |
| | Q- Brothers (not diapered) | | 8- Regression |
| | *Denotes Deekerian story elements
|
|
| Summary:
|
This is my first story there will be more to come next week. It's about
Adam dealing with growing up with his small bladder. It's a great
story.
|
“Adam!” yelled my mom from the driver seat. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT
GOING TO THE BATHROOM?!”
Quick recap, I’m Adam. I am an 11-year-old boy. I live in Orange
County, California. It was like we were in one of those T.V
neighborhoods. Everyone had the same car and whatnot. I also have an
18-year-old brother named Seth.
It was two days before Thanksgiving and we were about to leave to go to
my Aunt’s house in upstate New York. I was excited because my cousin
Aaron was going to be there. Aaron was like my other, cooler older
brother.
It was 7:00 am and Seth came into my room to tell me that it was time
to get up to meat the plain airport. As I got out of bed there was no
way to hide the huge wet spot on the front of my PJs.
“Hey, little bro. It’s cool, you don’t need to hide it. I did the same
thing until I was 15.”
“GREAT!! SO I HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT FOR 4 MORE YEARS!” I yelled and
walked into my bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror thinking, “I’m
11. I should not be pissing in my pants!”
After my shower I was feeling a little better and went down to eat
breakfast. I had a huge glass of cranberry juice and a glass a milk.
Then my bro said, “Hey, dude, watch out with the drinking, it’s a long
drive.”
“I guess you’re right, bro,” I said, thinking to myself, “I’m not going
to have a problem.” I ran upstairs and brought my suitcase out to the
Range Rover. We all got in. About and hour into the trip I noticed that
I kind of needed to pee. I was just telling myself that I can hold it.
I am 11; I can do it.
About 15 minutes later it was getting real hard to hold it.
“Hey mom, I kind of need to pee, like really bad.”
“Adam, what did I tell you about that?”
“Sorry, Mom. I just drank a lot. Please, can we stop? I really have to
pee.”
“No!” she said. “We are almost at the airport. You are 11 and need to
be a big boy.”
All I was thinking was, “How am I going to do this? There is no way.”
10 minutes later there was no way, so I decided that I would let a
little out in my pants to relieve some pressure, worst idea ever. I let
too much out you could tell I pissed in my pants. My bro looked back at
me and saw my pants and just kind of made a face. I was able to hold it
until we got to the airport.
When we got there were we saw we were late and had to still check in. I
was still telling mom that I had to pee bad. She just told me to hold
it, that there was no time. In the line for the ticket counter all I
could do was just do the pee-pee dance and grabbed myself. My mom
yelled at me and told me that I looked like a 5-year-old and needed to
stop doing it.
I stopped and just then a little bit of pee came out, not all of it,
but enough that you could once again tell that I had an accident. We
than had to run to security. I had to run the whole way there holding
myself. We stopped at the security person who checked my mom’s ID. He
looked at my brother and I and told me, “Hey, kid, try some pull-ups or
something.”
My mom just got mad at him and we went to the metal detectors and got
through all that. On the way to the gate it all came out into my pants.
I could not stop it not matter what and when I thought I was done and I
was able to stop it. 2 minutes later a little more came out there was
no way to hide this. When we got to the gate my mom looked at me and
said, “You know, that guy was right. We should put you in Pull-Ups.”
We got on the plane and said almost nothing to each other the whole way
there. When we landed and went to the baggage area. We went to the
rental car. My mom looked at me and said, “Go to the bathroom. I don’t
care if you have to go.” I did. I went to the bathroom and used it and
came back. We got to the car.
We were on the highway and my mom saw a Wal-Mart and said she needed to
pick up something. We all got out and went inside and she said, “We are
going to get the two of them diapers.”
Seth yelled at his mom and said, “What the hell are you talking about?
I haven’t wet my bed in 4 years!”
She responded by telling him that she saw his pants on the plane after
he slept and had been squiring around for awhile, as well as how for
the last week he has been wetting his bed. She took them over to the
aisle and picked out the new Pampers Underjams for Seth and Pull-ups
for me.
More to come soon--- E-mail me what you thing so far and for
suggestions. If I get good ones I will use them.
WETKID@GMAIL.COM