Willow had long been a fan of
wetting herself -- in fact, she couldn't even remember how it had
started. When she lived with her parents, and then in a college dorm,
the opportunities for enjoying that activity had been few and far
between, but now that she had her own apartment, she could partake in
that particular pleasure as often as she wanted. And she almost always
wanted to.
It was a lazy Sunday, which Willow thought were the best days for having
"accidents." The night before, she hadn't gone to the toilet before
bed, and woke up fairly desperate that morning. (Willow frequently went
to sleep with a rather full bladder, but it was less common for her to
wake up still desperate, as she often woke up to wet sheets instead.)
She lazed around in bed for a while, and contemplated relieving herself
right there, but instead got up and went though her usual morning
routine, which of course did not involve using the toilet -- in fact,
her toilet was rarely used at all. By the time she was making her usual
breakfast of toast with jam and a large mug of tea, she was fidgeting
quite a lot, and had even resorted to even grabbing her crotch a bit to
postpone the inevitable. She made it though breakfast without leaking,
but an hour later she had progressed from fidgeting to squirming to
flat-out bouncing, was holding herself constantly, and even moaning
occasionally. Still, she held on. She loved it when she made a choice to
wet herself, and the feeling of deliberately releasing her bladder and
letting her pee escape into her clothing, but there was something even
better about having a real accident -- at least, as real as an accident
could be when she had done nothing to prevent it.
Despite her determination, it was only a few more minutes before the
pressure became too much. She spurted, and felt the panties against her
crotch grow hot and wet. She gripped herself even harder, but less than a
minute later another, longer stream escaped, and she could feel her
jeans growing damp under her hands. Willow crossed her legs even tighter
and clenched her muscles, but only managed to halt the leaking for a
few seconds before her bladder gave up entirely, and urine came flooding
out. Her already wet crotch became soaked, and almost immediately after
that pee began rushing down the insides of her legs, leaving dark,
glistening streaks that widened as her bladder continued emptying. She
could feel the wetness seeping up and around her butt, and spreading
around her legs. Her formerly white socks turned yellow, and an
impressively large puddle formed on the floor. Finally, she finished
relieving herself, although excess pee still dripped from her pants to
the floor. She looked at the mess she had made, and took a strange sort
of pride in how much of her jeans were dark with liquid, and the size of
her puddle. Although Willow kept these kinds of activities private, she
did enjoy how visible wetting her pants was -- it would have been
immediately obvious to anyone who saw her that she had peed, not into a
toilet, but directly into her pants! With this thought, she began to rub
her crotch and inner thighs through her still-dripping pants, moaning
softly with pleasure as she did so.
Only when her pee grew cold and sticky did she stop and clean up. She
spent the next several hours being satisfyingly unproductive and waiting
for her bladder to refill. However, when she started squirming again,
it wasn't because of her bladder. This time, it was her bowels that were
becoming more and more insistent on voiding their contents. In order to
increase how desperate she felt, Willow walked around her house.
After a few minutes, she felt her load turtling, but she managed to
avoid messing her pants for the moment. Once she had regained a
reasonable amount of control, she pulled down her pants and underwear,
and was satisfied to see skid marks on the otherwise white panty lining.
She pulled her pants back up and continued to walk around, occasionally
stretching and even squatting. The moments when she almost lost control
came closer and closer together, and increased in severity. After a
particularly intense cramp, Willow knew she would have no choice but to
fill her panties soon. She made her way outside to her backyard, which
was surrounded by tall, thick hedges. Once outside, she decided to
examine the inside of her panties again, and was rewarded by the sight
of numerous new brown streaks.
With her pants still down, however, another wave of desperation hit, and
Willow knew that her bowels were seconds away from emptying, whether
she wanted them to or not. She only just managed to get her panties back
up around her hips (her pants were left dropped around her knees)
before she felt her load turtling again. This time, however, she was
unable to avoid soiling herself. Her poop started to come out, and
tented the seat of her panties before smushing a bit. Willow then gave
up on trying to maintain any semblance of continence, and relaxed.
Immediately and without any effort, a second, longer log slid out. She
could feel the warm mass of poop pressing against her butt, and her
panties were now distinctly heavy and sagging. She lightly ran her hand
over the back of her panties, and discovered that the bulge was already
quite obvious. However, Willow wasn't done yet. She squatted slightly
and pushed, so the last of her load was also deposited into her
underwear. She also felt a familiar hot wetness running down her legs
for the second time that day, and realized that in voiding her bowels,
she had also, quite unintentionally and without even realizing she was
doing so, voided her mostly-refilled bladder.
Although she had completely relieved herself, Willow continued to stand
in her yard for a few moments, taking a strange sort of pride in the
mess she had created. She then pulled her pee-streaked pants back up --
further squashing her sizable load as she did so -- and walked inside,
causing her poop to shift further into the base of her panties, and her
gait became a sort of waddle. She made her way to the bathroom, where
she positioned herself in front of the full-length mirror. Although the
wet patches were a dead giveaway that she had peed herself, there was
minimal visual evidence that she had also soiled herself, since her
pants were loose enough that most of the bulge was hidden (she could
just barely see it, but she knew what to look for), and a brown color
hadn't yet seeped though to the outside of her pants. She then dropped
her pants again, and examined how the back of her panties looked.
Now, it was clear that she'd had two "accidents." Her panties were made
of thick white cotton, and not only was the front of her crotch wet, but
also decidedly yellow. She twisted a bit so she could see her rear in
the mirror, and observed that her load was causing her panties to sag
quite a lot between her legs -- she even bounced on the balls of her
feet a few times so she could feel the weight jiggle. Furthermore, the
seat of her panties already had a noticeable brown stain on them. She
grinned, appreciating the irony of standing with pee-soaked, poop-filled
panties only a few feet away from a toilet. Willow wasn't quite done
enjoying her "accident," so she pulled her pants back up again and
wandered around her house for a while, before finally cleaning up,
showering, and changing.
