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On 12/11/2020 at 2:39 AM, Kupar said:

Dear Wet Carpet

What a wonderful, supportive community readers of this magazine are! Thank you so much Sarah for your reply to my last letter. I followed your advice - it really helped, and now I am much, much happier! Here’s what happened.

I went back to the scene of my ‘crime’, if I can call it that. Sure, I know it was naughty, but how can something that felt so good be wrong? To be honest, I’d been thinking nonstop about that pee ever since – how wonderful it felt to hear and feel it flow between my thighs, and watch it soaking away into the fabric, and running over the edge of the seat on to the floor below. I didn’t say before, but I’d put my hand down there given myself a little rub as I peed – it had been such fun!

I couldn’t see any CCTV cameras that could possibly have picked me up going to the car – they only cover the main doors, and I’d gone out through the service bay. And the CCTV isn’t monitored live, it’s only ever looked at if there’s been a break-in. The only place where anyone could have seen me get into that car was from the parts office – it’s just a little glass-walled cubicle really – and my boss, the service manager, is the only person with a key!

I looked at the angles and sightlines. This was the only possibility. It was my boss. And I’d found his weakness, and his on switch! So I went back to my desk and wrote this note: “How about we stay after work tomorrow and I’ll put on a show for you? Go to the parts office at 5:45” and left it somewhere I knew he’d find it. What had I done!?

The next day I was on edge all day and my manager was in a quiet mood – we hardly looked at one another. I wanted to make sure I could pee, and to see what he’d do, so I was drinking pretty much non-stop during the afternoon. By locking-up time I was really ready. Not desperate, but jiggly, if you know what I mean. The time came and I made my way through the internal door to the service bay. He was there, alone, in the little office, looking a bit embarrassed.

My heart was pounding! But I had planned what I was going to do. I put my finger to my lips to show him I wanted him to say silent, then I walked towards the inspection pit in the centre of the bay, with my special walk – you know: slow, hips swaying a little, never losing eye contact – as I undid the buttons on my white blouse, and then the zip at the side of my tight black skirt. I love the power I have over men! When I beckoned, he almost ran from his office. I pointed wordlessly to the pit and he realised what his role was because he obediently climbed down the steps and laid down on his back, looking up at me with puppy eyes. When I reached the corner of the inspection pit I let my skirt fall, kicked it clear, opened my blouse a little then placed my feet in a wide stance so I was directly over him. He almost yelped when he saw I wasn’t wearing any knickers and he was staring up at my neat, trimmed pussy.

It took a few seconds, but when it came, it didn’t stop for almost a minute! All the time we were looking straight at each other – him helpless and submissive, me dominant and powerful with my hands on my hips – as my clear, strong stream cascaded from three metres above him all over his face, his clothes, his shoes. By adjusting my position and using my muscles I covered him completely and he was loving it!

In that moment, all my fears about being found out and losing my job evaporated. I had found a pee slave, and my job was going to be much, much better in the future!

Stay wet and powerful, sisters!

Amy

x

Omg, Kupar!

perfection! 
risque! 

so hot. 
so powerful! 

 

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On 1/13/2021 at 2:41 AM, Kupar said:

Dear Wet Carpet

It’s been a while since I found my inner pee domme, and a willing slave, and I thought you might like to know how I’ve been getting on. You may remember from a few issues ago that I managed to turn the tables on my overbearing boss at the garage when I discovered his weakness for pee.

There was always the risk that he’d find a way of getting rid of me, but it was clear he was hooked. After I’d peed on him in the inspection pit, I’d just walked away and driven home. The next day at work was … interesting. He was very nice to me! I didn’t know how to react at first – it was such a change. I have always been nice to people: it sort of comes with the receptionist / customer service job really. But I couldn’t immediately change how I was around him at work – he was still my boss.

The best thing was that I started finding opportunities at work to have more pee fun. Ever since that first time ruining his car seats (and rubbing one out while I did it!) I’d been taking the opportunity to have a quick pee playtime when I went to the toilet. First it was just sitting on the seat and having a little rub, but I got a bit naughtier as the days went by and soon I was squatting on the floor, or standing with one leg up on the toilet seat or basin, knickers pulled to one side, just letting the pee come out wherever. It felt fantastic, watching and hearing my hot pee splashing where it shouldn’t, especially if I’d held for a while. It’s a shared unisex toilet, of course, so I reckon the other staff just assumed it was the guys who were making a mess – and the boss wasn’t going to say anything was he?!

He knew what I was doing because I took photos and sent them to his phone with teasing messages like “I’m going to cover your face in my hot piss, you worthless creature,” – that sort of thing. I was making it up as I went along, but sometimes when I saw him looking at his phone he kind of whimpered, so I reckon I was doing OK!

That satisfied my naughty side for a while, but I knew I needed more. I started dressing more provocatively and putting on darker eye makeup and bolder lipstick. The dress code is black and white smart business wear, of course, but I pushed it as far as I could. I have this black leather miniskirt – like, really short – and I started wearing that more often, teamed with long boots, sheer tights and no knickers. My white blouses got tighter and fewer of the buttons got done up. None of the staff – or the customers – seemed to mind.

I started peeing on my chair. And on other chairs. Just hitching my skirt up a bit under my desk while sorting out customers picking up their cars, and gradually letting spurts of pee come out on to the cushioned top of my swivel chair as I handed them their keys back. Sometimes it would drip on to the carpet tiled floor. It was amazing knowing that because I had the boss under my control I could do pretty much anything I wanted.

In his little glass walled office, when he was there, I would sometimes go in, shut the door behind me, walk round the back of his desk and pretend to talk to him about some paperwork so the guys in the workshop wouldn’t realise what was going on. What I was actually doing was standing over his briefcase, peeing on it and into it – seeing his sandwiches becoming soggy, hearing the paperwork getting soaked, thinking about how he explains all this to his wife when he gets home, and saying to him in my best bitch voice “You like this don’t you? You like my piss ruining your stuff. If you’re a good boy and give me a pay rise, maybe I’ll let you feel my pee on your face, or your cock.” I’m still waiting, but when I get it, I’ll have more stories to tell.

Stay wet everyone!

Amy

xx

Ooooh now I wish I had a pee slave at work! 
Thus is going to sound weird, but a week ago I had a dream about work and about a new guy in IT who I hadn’t met yet, and I dreamed I gave him a blow job under his desk so he would get my computer fixed quicker. Then I actually met the new IT guy a couple of days later at work, and he was almost as lovely as in my dream. Young, dark hair, super helpful and smart. But because of my dream, I feel kind of awkward around him. 😆 He would make a nice pee slave at work though. 🔥😆

maybe I need to write to Wet Carpet magazine too! 
i love the thought of Amy soaking his car seat, making a mess in the toilet, peeing on her office chair 🔥…his brief case. 
wow, so hot. So good. 

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On 4/5/2021 at 7:54 PM, Kupar said:

Dear Wet Carpet

I am a bad girl. I peed in a store fitting room. I got caught, and I was properly punished. Is it wrong that I loved every minute?

It was last Saturday, and I was going shopping for clothes in the big department store in town. I’d chosen some leather pants to try on, so I took them to the fitting room. I’m a curvy girl, and I wasn’t sure they’d pull up OK over my hips – I was kinda hoping I could wriggle into them so they’d be super tight, but I just couldn’t. Man, I must’ve tried for like five minutes! 

And I knew the store didn’t have the next size up. I was so mad! On top of that, I really needed a pee. I’m not normally like this at all, but, you know, I thought “what the hell” and just threw the leather pants down on the fitting room floor, put one foot up on the stool, yanked my panties to one side, spread my lips with two fingers and just let go.

It felt so good to piss my frustration away and take it out on those stupid pants! I listened to the loud hiss and watched a powerful jet splash off the shiny leather and run away on to the floor, forming a puddle that gradually soaked and darkened the pale grey carpet. I sighed audibly with relief and happiness. And then the curtain was quickly pulled open from outside and I saw the store manager looking first at me, then at the pants on the floor, then back to me, his mouth open, a slight hint of a smile starting to form, and a strange look in his eye. In that moment I was brought back to the real world, realised what I was doing and somehow – I don’t know how – managed to stem the flow and stutter an apology: “I’m … I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” I started… 

Two minutes later, after I’d pulled on my skirt, I was sitting in the manager’s office and he didn’t seem happy. “We take a pretty serious view of vandalism like that, miss,” he said. “You’re not the first to do it, and I doubt you’ll be the last. But here’s the deal. We won’t get the law involved if you and I can agree a suitable punishment. What do you say?” 

I thought about it for, like, three seconds, while my insides somersaulted and I tried not to giggle: I’m pretty sure he didn’t know me, but maybe he’d worked me out.  “I think we can come to an arrangement,” I said. “What did you have in mind? I have been very naughty, and I made your fitting room very messy.”

And that’s how I came to be lying on my back on his desk, skirt up round my waist, one hand softly stroking a nipple through my flimsy tee-shirt, the fingers of my other hand exploring inside my panties, my head turned to one side as I watched him pulling a thick, soft dick out of his suit pants. 

He looked up: “No!” he shouted, walking across to the desk. He grabbed both my hands and holding my wrists together with one hand, slapped me across the cheek. I gasped, and involuntarily a spurt of pee soaked the flimsy fabric of my panties and dripped on to the desk. “Oops!” I giggled: “I think I wet your desk.”

“Keep you hands above your head and shut up!” he said, calmly but with steel in his voice. He put the fingers and thumb of his left hand round my throat to make sure I understood. How did he know to do that?! With his right hand he took his hardening dick and aimed at my tits, unloading a long, steady stream on to my shirt, hosing me down like I needed some dirt washing away. I could feel the glorious wet warmth spreading across my chest as the white material became semi-transparent, my nipples hardening.

The stream slowed and the store manager let go of my throat. He grasped the collar of my tee-shirt with both hands and pulled, and there was a satisfying tearing sound as my wet tits were exposed to his view. “Good girl,” he said, as he rubbed the head of his dick against one of my 38Ds and squeezed the other, very firmly, with his free hand.

I’m not going to tell you what happened after that – a girl needs a few secrets – but when he finally said “now clean yourself up and get the hell out of my store,” I was one satisfied customer. 

I’m going shopping there again next weekend. There are some lovely boots I think might be the wrong size for me.

Louise

x

Wow! 
this one is so hardcore, compared to your other writing. 
i love it so much! 
🔥🔥🔥🔥

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3 hours ago, MidoriLemonade85 said:

Wow! 
this one is so hardcore, compared to your other writing. 
i love it so much! 
🔥🔥🔥🔥

Ah. It was a sort of commission 😉

Edited by Kupar
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4 hours ago, MidoriLemonade85 said:

Thus is going to sound weird, but a week ago I had a dream about work and about a new guy in IT who I hadn’t met yet, and I dreamed I gave him a blow job under his desk so he would get my computer fixed quicker. Then I actually met the new IT guy a couple of days later at work, and he was almost as lovely as in my dream. Young, dark hair, super helpful and smart. But because of my dream, I feel kind of awkward around him. 😆 He would make a nice pee slave at work though. 🔥😆

maybe I need to write to Wet Carpet magazine too! 

Yes! Write a letter! Keep the pee away from the mains cabling under that desk though 😉   

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Dear wet carpet,

Time for my naughtiest pee yet.

I was at the courthouse with my mom helping her to watch my younger siblings, when I suddenly had to piss. So I went to the bathroom, went into a stall, and pissed right beside the toilet! LOL!!!

Jp.

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On 8/28/2022 at 10:25 PM, hentaixt said:

Hello, I'm writing to look for sympathy? I don't need acceptance or understanding, so I guess that's what I want.

My name's Geneille, I have dark skin and the other traits you'd expect from that. As a young girl I had a bad accident and ended up with some extensive reconstruction of my pelvic area. Thankfully everything's fine, I can have children as I have three daughters of various ages. The real issue is my urethra. When I was getting put back together, not everything healed the same way it started. I was left with; an enlarged exit. Without getting too specific or medical, my opening can accommodate a standard ink pen comfortably.

Now we come to the real interest of why I write. I'll be very direct; I pee like an opened fire hydrant. Without even spreading myself open, I produce a very thick stream that further widens with distance. I literally can do full splits and still get splash-back on my inner thighs. So needless to say, it is not convenient for me to use a standard toilet. My family knows this well and helps to find places suitable for me to relieve my bladder while we are out. In many situations though I have been limited on my options and ended up peeing in VERY inappropriate ways (the back hallway of a mall being one of the worst). Of course with three daughters, they often join me to release their urine as well. I also have a boss that understands and she has given me several options at work too.

So that's it for introductions. Please let me know if you'd like to hear about some of my experiences. I'm willing to share everything from the time I found out about my "problem" until current day. Just to give you a quick anecdote, about two weeks ago we went out to eat at a fancy restaurant to celebrate. As expected during the course of the meal I needed to have a go. One of my daughters surveyed the restroom to find out there was nothing of use there. This is where the "fancy" part comes into play. Outside they had a grotto garden with plants and a water feature. You could walk around on a path and at the top of the waterfall was a bridge over the stream that was right next to the waterfall to a lower pool. I excused myself and told the hostess I needed some air and would be back after a quick walk around the garden. I booked around the path until I got to the bridge. It was already late evening and the only illumination was from path lights, which meant I would not be easily visible. I had on a long dress with a side split, so I pulled it up and flipped it over my arm. I stripped off my thong and squatted down. Since I am used to stealth peeing I can go anywhere as soon as I am ready, so I let loose. If anyone had looked out for the time I was there, the waterfall would have appeared to gain a new tier of flow. It was maybe two foot across and I was at least a third of my stream in the water. The one benefit of this situation is I take less time to get empty, I average around 20 seconds most the time. The other positive is I don't drip; it is all out when I finish. I put myself back together carefully, making sure no one had noticed anything and rejoined my family at the table. My youngest always asks if she is not there to see it in person, so I gave her basically what I wrote her.

My stories may not be the greatest letters you read here, that is if you ask for any, but I'll do my best to keep them interesting.

More please!

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5 hours ago, steve25805 said:

Dear Wet Carpet.

I've been chatting up the middle aged barmaid down my local pub. She has something of a reputation. Some of the things I have heard on the grapevine about her alleged pissing antics have long piqued my interest. Rumoured to be into peeing on guys, known for thinking nothing of peeing in full public view when she's had a few, rumoured to have the habit of peeing in glasses or on the floor in quiet corners in nightclubs. There is a persistent story going around that a few years back she peed on someone's bed for a dare. 

Anyway, on a night when she was not working I invited her out for a few drinks, hoping to encourage her wild side and we ended up back at mine. I asked her about the peeing on the bed thing and she openly admitted she did it, saying that it's fun to just pee somewhere random when you're drunk because the toilet seems boring.

Anyway, back at mine she needed to pee and invited me to watch. I suggested she do it right there on the living room carpet. And she gleefully did it. She even let me take this photo of her doing it....
1500603218_2021-01-05(5).thumb.png.ab40ba2ef77b5643870b133a9b1bb3c7.png

Isn't that incredible? A grown woman deliberately peeing on my living room carpet, brazen as you like.

isn't that a still photo from a lot video.. I recognise it only because I watched it not long ago

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I'm really hoping some of your readers will be able to give me some advice.   I've been seeing this really cute guy for a few months now and things are getting more serious.

Now my problem is, he's asked me to go away for a few days with him in his camper at Easter.  The plan is we're going to wild camp, just stopping wherever around the coast and into the mountains.  Don't get me wrong I'm really excited and really looking forward to most of the trip.

The thing I am petrified about though is the bathroom arrangements.  His van doesn't have a toilet compartment and it's alright for him as a bloke, he can just pee on the nearest tree.  The thing is, I've tried in the past and I just can't pee in the great outdoors.  I don't like public bathrooms much either, I'd rather hang on.  But away from a bathroom I just can't go.  I first noticed it when I was in my university days on nights out.  The other girls would often stop for a wee on the way home between parked cars or in an alley.  I'd be desperate too, but just nothing would come out.  Sometimes I'd end up wetting myself before I got home instead.  And since then the more I've worried about needing the toilet away from home, the worse it's become.  It's like a phobia now.

So, back to our forthcoming camping trip.  When we've been on days out together so far I've managed by not drinking too much and I've been absolutely frantic by the time I've got home. Yes I know neither of those things are healthy.   On the last day out literally as I got out of the car outside my own house I started to have an accident. My tired muscles were starting to spasm and then I felt wee warming up my bum and running down my legs.  It actually felt amazing, the relief was incredible as I stood in my front garden soaking my trousers, socks and walking boots.  But that's beside the point.  The thing is, I can't possibly tell my partner he made me have an accident now.  It's humiliating for one, and he'd feel dreadful.

When we're camping for a week I can't wet myself every single time and I can't avoid drinking and weeing either.  I don't know what to do, holding on isn't an option and wetting myself would be mortifying.

Have any of your readers experienced similar, what should I do ?

Regards - Diane.

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