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Memorable Experiences


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Guest UnabashedUser
So, I finally got up the courage to write up a few experiences I've had over the years of knowing about my pee fetish. I'll probably add more as I remember them, but for now, these are ones that stick out the most.

I'll focus mainly on my childhood ones first. Then add my teenage and adult ones on as I go on.

Age 4 - Accidents

The only accidents I remember having were when I was still attending nursery, around 4 years old. It happened without my notice, I ended up wetting myself while sitting on an indoor slide and I remembered being fascinated watching the pee slide down from me and pool into the floor. The nursery workers handled it with the same seasoned professionalsism they did with every incidence, but I do remember being forced to change into something from the dress up box and the only thing that fit me was a clown costume. Incidentally, I am terrified of clowns.

Catching Pee - age 6-7

My earliest memories of being interested in the wider aspects of pee come around the age of 6/7. We had just moved house to live closer to my grandfather. Perhaps it was the uprooting and moving process that unsettled me, but I was somewhat scared to use the toilet in my new house. So instead I started trying new ways to pee safely. I tried using nappies/diapers meant for my dolls but of course, I couldn't wear them. I tried sitting small containers in my underwear so

I could pee into them. That didn't work either and I got caught stuffing things in there once and got sent to bed early.

I was never a bed wetter. But I wanted to be. I begged my mum to buy me the night nappy-pants so I could pretend to have an accident. Whether she was wise to me and knew what I was doing, I still don't know, but that was another plan foiled.

My mother was a childminder and there was one particular girl I got on very well with. We would spend hours playing in my room and she was being potty trained around the time she first started coming to us. My mum, with a few other kids to deal with, couldn't always get her to the potty (which was set up in a secluded corner of the kitchen) in time. So I started taking her. I remember hearing the dribbling and trickling as the hiss of pee filled the potty right up and just being amazed so much liquid could come out of one little girl. I always wanted to use it but was always afraid of my mum walking in and catching me.

Soon after, the girl graduated from a potty to a kind of seat you attached over the toilet bowl to get her used to peeing in a toilet. But again, she struggled to use it so I started helping. I'd always been a motherly sort and I always enjoyed helping, so it was a huge bonus. And this time, because I could come into the bathroom and lock the door (instead of risking being discovered in the more communal area of the kitchen) I also started to use the seat over the toilet. Eventually, the girl got too big for it and I was quite sad to see it go.

Peeing together 8-10

Flash forward a few years and me and this girl were as close as sisters. Mum had given up her childminding job to take a full time position as a nursery nurse, but she kept taking this one girl on as a favour. I was ecstatic. Old enough now to enjoy the privacy of being in a room together without being checked on, we soon started to experiment.

The girl, we'll call her M, turned to me one day while we were playing and said "I need a wee" with a convincing squeeze of her crotch.

"Okay." I said, getting off the bed. "Come with me. I'll take you."

"I won't make it." She said simply. I had seen other little girls desperate to pee before. They were always little balls of energy, hopping from foot to foot, bending over, digging their hands into their crotches and whining "I need a wee! I need a wee!" Often right before a wet patch would slowly form and their faces would crumple with shame.

M showed nothing of this. She was calm and still.

"So what will you do?" Even at this age, I remember feeling wild and nervous. Like an adrenaline rush.

"I'll do my toilet here." She pointed to the carpet. "Is that okay?"

"Mum might see and get cross." I warned.

"But I really need a wee!" She demanded, before shimmying out of her tights and sitting right on the floor. I heard a hiss and a wet patch flowed out from under her bum. She stood up and dried her legs with her tights.

I had an idea. I had a cup full of water that I poured over her pee patch. "There. Just in case."

We were hooked from that point on. We made something of a game of it. Trying to see how many different places we could pee without being caught or noticed. M loved peeing on carpet. She never ever squatted, just tugged her underwear to her ankles and sat right down, letting the pee spread right around her bum. She didnt mind the wetness one bit. Luckily our carpet was so dark, wet spots barely showed up, and I often covered anything suspicious looking with rugs or faked it out by blaming a spilled drink.

I liked a more adventerous pee. We both had dolls, extravagant ones that ate and cried and, you guessed it, wet. They came with a big potty, surprisingly deep and just big enough for me to nestle my bum on. I was always too afraid to pee too much - terrified of overspill, but would let out enough spurts to last me until I could find somewhere new.

One time I ended up waiting too long to pee and I was stuck for a place to go. I was holding myself and hopping about and M said "just wee anywhere!" But I hadn't prepared anything to cover up a stain. In the end, I dragged the bookcase away from the wall (it was nice and light so it came away easy), hopped up on the top, edged my bum into the gap between wall and bookcase and unleashed a huge torrent down the side. It felt so naughty and so surreal, to see it spray down the wood and pool into the carpet underneath. When I was done, I jumped down and pushed the bookcase back in.

M and I spent a lot of pee time at her house too. But where I lived in a more residential place, she had a house well away from other people and main roads. There was a field and a huge loch out by the back. We could go there, as long as we were safe, and didn't go too near the water.

We'd had a lot of juice for lunch, I remember that. It was somebody's birthday - whether it was hers or her big brothers, I can't remember. Either way, we were told to go out the house until things were set up. We were walking along and as soon as we were far enough away from the house, M announced she needed a wee.

My heart started thudding. Peeing outside was so naughty, so forbidden unless it was a dire emergency and nowhere else to go.

"Didn't you wee before we left?"

She didn't say anything so I followed up with "do you want to go back?"

She didn't. Instead she started to climb a nearby tree! I panicked because we weren't supposed to climb on the trees.

"I'll wee up here," she took a moment to wriggle out of her jeans and plonk her bare bum on the branch. "It's cold." She giggled. "Come up!"

"I'm too scared!" I said truthfully.

"Fraidy cat," she teased as her pee suddenly began to fall from the branch. She was up high, a few feet higher than I stood, and her pee fell in a wonderful arc, clear, almost glittering against a watery sun. It fell for what felt like ages, splattering loudly and bouncing off the barren ground underneath. I was hypnotised right up until the moment she stopped.

When she jumped back to the ground to survey her mess, I got reminded of my own need by a sharp stab to my bladder. I jammed my hands to my crotch and bent double. "I really really need a wee!" I said, voice barely a whisper.

"Go then?" She encouraged. She still had her trousers around her ankles and her undies had a telltale dark spot on them, like she hadn't quite been done.

"Where?" I croaked, painfully aware of the empty space around us. There was the loch, but that was forbidden. There were trees, but I was too scared to climb them. I briefly thought about adding my own puddle to M's, but I was wearing shorts and suddenly afraid of baring everything to the world around me.

My tummy squeezed and I felt my hold tremble. Warmth darkened my underwear. "It...it's coming out!" I cried.

M grabbed my hand and rushed me over behind a large rock. Half waddling, half spurting tiny bursts of pee, she pushed my back against the rock. "Go here" she said.

"I won't get my shorts down in time." I panicked as another spurt shot out. I could see a wet patch forming.

"Yes you will," she said, grabbing hold of their waistband. "ready?"

"I think so!"

"Go!" She yanked down my shorts and I immediately squatted. Pee thundered out of me, splashing over my undies (which hadn't been pulled down) and rapidly spread across the rocks and into the waiting grass. It felt so good - what felt like hours and hours of liquid came gushing out all at once. M started giggling at my spray, but she didn't step back, even when my pee reached the toes of her trainers.

When I was done, I felt weak at the knees. My undies were completely soaked but my shorts relatively unscathed. I started to panic but M assured me we had plenty of time before we had to go back and they would dry well before that.

Wow. Sorry that was so long. I didn't even get to half the experiences I had planned. I'll write them up another night. In the meantime, if you got through all of that rambling, hope you enjoyed :)

Excellent writing, very erotic. Looking forward to many more :)
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Here's a couple more I can recall. Some more childhood ones, a couple from my teenage years.

Peeing Outside - age 10-12

My mum finally stopped caring for M when I was just about to turn 10. M's father was taking more time off work and more time committed to childcare. We saw each other every day at school and minus the odd falling out, stayed friends well into our teenage years. The peeing together thing, however, stopped once we weren't regulars at each other's houses.

around this time, a new family moved into the house directly opposite us. They had two girls, one two years younger than me we'll call Cat and one five years younger than me we'll call Nina.

We hit it off immediately, spent every available out of school hour and weekend playing. My mum's job had changed so she was working later than normal and my dad was between jobs, so I took a lot of time to play out with them.

Cat and Nina's back garden adjoined onto the primary school and were separated by a fence that we could easily climb over. This was before the days of CCTV were rampant, so we could run around the school grounds after hours with little worry of being seen or caught. We spent hours dodging between school grounds and their garden, riding bikes and scooters, playing imaginary games or whatever took our fancy.

One day, we had been building a "house" out of ferns and grasses when Nina started to fidget. Cat, being a responsible big sister, noticed right away.

"Do you need a wee-wee?"

Nina nodded.

"This is our house." Cat seemed to be choosing her words carefully, glancing at me to gauge my reaction. "Maybe you're in the bathroom right now."

Nina's eyes went wide. "I can wee-wee here?"

Cat shot a look towards the house. In those days, their parents worked really late and they were looked after by a local childminder. She was paid mainly to cook them dinner and get their homework done and so long as we were relatively quiet and safe when we played outside, she didn't come bothering us until it was time for their parents to come back.

Satisfied it was safe, Cat nodded. "Yes. Go pee-pee here."

Nina needed help to get her underwear down and she started to pee before she got them completely clear. She cried a little in fright but quickly stopped when she saw the liquid trickling and running down her thighs, collecting in a little indent in the grass. Nina giggled as she wiggles back into her underwear and looked at the little puddle.

"That's the toilet now." Cat said with a smile. "Hey, if we ever need to pee we should pee-pee here. The babysitter will make us come in if we go in to pee."

Both me and Nina nodded. I could hardly believe my luck. I remember feeling flushed and excited, but couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"I need a wee-wee now!" Cat announced, expertly pulling up her skirt, just slightly. She had a denim skirt on, impossibly difficult to do anything complicated in. She negotiated the crotch of her underwear aside and peed through the gap, not bothering to completely remove them. I watched as the puddle grew bigger and bigger and then felt a familiar twinge in my own bladder.

"I need a wee-wee too." I told them, dropping my trousers down and poking my bare bum next to Cat. We peed together, my stream long outlasting hers. We left the puddle for a little bit, returning to it a few hours later when Nina started hopping about and holding herself again.

From then on, the three of us had a rule. If one of us had to pee, we would all need to go. Irrespective of who needed it. If someone really didn't need it, we could force the person needing to pee to wait. This was where my interest really ramped up. Nina was by far the one needing to pee the most often. She was the youngest, after all, and also much more irritating than Cat. Sometimes I would lie and say I didn't need a wee when she said she did, just to make her wait.

Adolsecent Peeing

My interest waned in peeing from 12-14. Mainly cos Cat and Nina moved away and making the transition to highschool took up most of my time. I developed a goth sense of style as I took in new experiences and new friends, but the old familiarity of peeing was never far behind.

One night, I lay in bed really needing a pee. I was afraid to go to the bathroom as my father had given me hell for being too noisy at nighttime. The floorboards in my room and the ones in the bathroom creaked with even the slightest pressure and my dad had ears like a bat. Couple this with being a light sleeper, and I was soon being blamed for his lack of sleep.

Problem was, I really needed a wee. But the memory of an hour's worth of shouting and chastisement before bed was too much to bear. I didn't dare want to risk that again.

But inward to pee and I couldn't ignore it. I sat up in bed and put my lamp on, my hands firmly jammed in my crotch to try and keep the pee in. I looked around in vain for anything I could pee in. A bottle, a container, anything with a wide enough lid for me to manoeuvre on top of. But a recent ban on me having liquids in my room because of one too many spilled cans was a formidable enemy. There was nothing I could use.

The pee was pushing against the pee hole ferociously and I could feel it desperately trying to claw its way out. I held on grimly, legs crossed, bolt upright in the bed and rigid. Too afraid to move in case I peed.

Then I spied it. A towel left over from the bath the previous night. Tucked down the side of my bed, it had been totally forgotten about. I fished it out and investigated it. Damp, but dry enough that it could a fair amount, I reasoned.

I pushed the towel directly into my underwear. But I found it weirdly difficult to get started. Knowing I was still sitting in a bed felt weird and alien to me. I knew that the slightest off angle would mean my pee could leak into the towel and ruin the mattress. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. It was starting to hurt. I needed to pee so bad it was starting to hurt. Even imagining myself on the toilet, letting loose and hearing the loud tinkling as it splashed into the awaiting water couldn't help. By now my tummy was rock hard and I just couldn't handle it anymore.

I stood up. So be it if my father yelled at me. It wasn't worth being in this much pain. But the second I stood up, the floodgates opened.

I squeaked in fright. The first dribble shot straight out, jetting straight through my undies and into my pyjama bottoms. Quickly I grabbed the towel and stuffed it back underneath me. My lips sighed in relief and the pee flooded out from me directly into the towel.

I tried to hold back the intensity on which it was leaving me, but it had had a taste of freedom and it wasn't giving it up. I peed over a minute, relentlessly gushing into the folds of the towel. Miraculously, it held. By the time I had to push out the last few drops did it threaten to overspill and minus a wet spot on my pyjamas and a few drops on the carpet, nothing was obvious.

I let out a deep sigh and held out the towel, shaking all over. What was I going to do with it?

I shoved it in an empty drawer in the bottom of my wardrobe. The next morning, when I had a shower, I let the towel fall into the water. I watched it rinse and wrung it out a few times, before bringing it down to Mum saying "this bloody towel fell in the water when I was in the shower" and I hung it out on the washing line like nothing had happened. She didn't suspect a thing.

After that, I started stuffing towels into my underwear a lot more frequently. While I rarely allowed myself to completely lose control and wet them, just the feeling of knowing I COULD do it was enough. I chickened out a lot, knowing there were only so many times I could use that excuse and with one parent at home all the time, trying to do anything sneakily was really difficult.

I soon moved on to being a lot more brazen with my peeling. Openly peeing straight onto the floor and into furniture was my next obsession, but that's a story for another time :)

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 4 weeks later...

So I'm finally back with a few more stories. After a bout of illness that left me unable to do much for a few weeks, I've been working two jobs and working on a university application so free time is a bit of a luxury right now. But here we are - some more experiences.

Adolescent Experiences cont.

Realising that peeing on towels was not always going to be a thing that would work, I started experimenting a little more. Often I would wait until the dead of night when both parents were asleep and find new ways to pee. Eager to try new things, I wouldn't even wait till I was desperate, just the slightest urge would be fine. One of my favourite things to do was to pee on a footstool that had been abandoned in the spare room - buried under a whole pile of junk. It was one of those things that opened up with a storage space underneath and it was just the right size for me to plonk myself down on and let the floodgates open.

The footstool was soft and squishy - kind of like the cushions you get on sofas. Often I would sit on it, fully clothed, wriggling around and feeling the need to pee pulse against me. I didn't dare wet through too many clothes so initially I treated it like I was sitting on the toilet. I'd shimmy my undies down and sit down like I was weeing on a toilet and just slowly let it trickle out of me into the cushion. At first I only dared to let little trickles out at a time but once, I drank so much water that I couldn't stop and I completely flooded it to the point little drops were splashing down into the (empty) storage compartment underneath. Thankfully I was so dilute that it didn't smell and my parents never went into the spare room anyway, so I got away with it for at least a few months before my interest waned.

University Peeing

Going to university was like a wake up call to the senses in terms of peeing. I lived with fifteen people on a floor and only two toilets on the hallway so it's fair to say I saw my fair share of pee dancing, groans of "I need a pee!" and drunken peeing in odd places. Here's a couple of my favourite ones that I'll be happy to elaborate on if anyone wants to

  • Witnessing a very drunk girl pee all over the pillow of another girl's bed
  • Escorting several drunk girls into the toilet cubicle and seeing them pee
  • Seeing another few girls peeing out of desperation in baths and showers
  • And then me peeing myself while outside in the snow

When I was 19 I got into my first relationship. It was long distance - he lived in America, me in Scotland, and we communicated via Skype. I was in my third year of university at the time and ended up living with a bunch of typical, I suppose most people would know them as frat boys? Major assholes is what I would call them. They had a lot of people, strange people, over to the flat and after a scary incident with one of them, I got too scared to leave my room when parties were on. That inevitably meant that I would need to pee sometime.

I was on Skype to my ex at the time and the need to pee was starting. I tried to ignore it - we were watching something together and I wouldn't have gone up to pee anyway. A party had just started out in the flat so I wasn't keen to move. But my bladder was filling uncomfortably fast and by the time the movie was over, I was squirming quite a lot.

My ex noticed this. "Babe, you okay?"

"Mm. I just need a wee."

He always found it funny when I said "wee" instead of "pee" and giggled at how cute it was. "Go for one then."

"I would. But there's a party out there and I'm scared to."

"oh. That's not good."

I muttered something about "not good" being an understatement and clutched myself harder. "I really really need to pee. I'm serious. I can't hold it all night..."

I snapped the light on and looked around the room for something I could use. Bottles were no good - the necks were too slim and there was no way I could pee in it without making a serious mess. I couldn't pee out the window. People would see and the window didn't open far enough to manoeuvre myself out. I felt a warning dampen the front of my undies. I didn't want to pee myself on skype - especially not in front of a boyfriend that didn't know about my fetish.

Then I noticed an ornamental mug I had been given as a gift. It was fairly tall and large - I reasoned it could hold a fair amount. "Don't hate me for this," I mumbled, dropping to the floor, shoving the cup under me and releasing an absolute torrent of clear pee into the cup. It went on for what felt like forever - tapering off about two thirds to the top. Hauling my pyjama shorts back up, I quickly deposited the pee out of the window, hearing it splash into the grass afterwards.

Thankfully the ex didn't seem to mind so much, and we had an agreement that whenever I would need to pee when there were parties over, I could just pee in the cup and have done with it without any sort of judgement. It seemed to grow on him as an idea and soon we ended up Skyping and talking even when he went to the bathroom for a pee.

Anyway, that's about as much as I've got at the moment for experiences in the past. I've got a few more I can use in stories of their own, so I'll hopefully add those on within the next week or so. Thanks for reading and sorry for being away so long!

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Excellent stories, thank you and yes, of course we would love to hear a more elaborate account of the stories from university. I'd be especially interested in the peeing in the pillow one.

I love your account of peeing on the footstool.

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  • 7 years later...
On 9/1/2016 at 8:16 AM, chubbybirb999 said:

The peeing in the pillow one? Sure.

Basically when I was in my first year of university I lived on a floor with about fourteen other students. In my section of the corridor there were about five other girls aside from myself and we were friendly with a girl from the floor below too. On nights out, which were usually on Wednesday, a crowd of us would often go out to a local club just down the road from our university building.

This particular Wednesday I stayed home as I had a psychology lab early the next morning and I needed to cram for it. About 2, 3am, the girls came back. There were I think five in total, and they were making the typical screeching, yelling, giggling noises so common with viciously drunk girls.

I put my materials down and popped my head out my bathroom door. They were all standing in the corridor, looking a little worse for wear, but happy. "Good night?" I asked.

"I have to pee!" One announced in reply, quickly disappearing out the corridor.

My flat's bathrooms were out in the hall by the stairwell. Two toilets and a bigger bathroom with toilet, shower and bath in the centre of the complex. No sooner had the first girl disappeared, a second clutched herself dramatically and also disappeared out to the second toilet on the stairwell.

The last three girls shrugged. Another left to go to the kitchen to get something to eat, while I was left with the last two girls. One was starting to look decidedly green and was easily the drunkest of the five - having not experimented much with alcohol prior to coming to university. "We''ll get you to bed." I said to her kindly, taking her arm and steering her in. Out of nowhere, I heard the shower in the last and final bathroom start up.

Myself and the other girl - also very drunk - got the really drunk girl settled into bed. She was facing the wrong way, with her head at the end of the bed and her feet barely reaching the pillows - she was a tiny thing, really. She was passed out asleep within a few seconds.

"I need a wee." the other girl said.

"I think the other girls are still in the toilets. And I just heard the shower start up in the other bathroom."

"Fuck." The other girl said. She was sat at the edge of the bed next to the girl's feet. A moment passed. Then, she simply said. "I can't hold it anymore."

I watched in utter amazement as the girl jumped onto her knees on the bed. I saw her fiddle under her hem of her dress, then position herself over one of the pillows. I heard a gentle hiss and then saw pee spraying out of her straight into the awaiting pillow. A wet spot slowly blossomed underneath the pillow, growing bigger and bigger until her pee tapered off and she pushed out the last couple of spurts.

She dropped the pillow under the bed when she was done. "Don't tell anyone I did that, okay?" she said, looking almost like she was proud of herself. Then, without another word, she wobbled out of the other girl's bedroom, leaving me no choice but to awkwardly follow along in her path.

😧

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