Copyright © 2013 by JD

 

Authors Note: This story you are about to read is one of emotions. I have laughed, got angry, cried, and even depressed while writing this story! Most of all, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you the reader will enjoy it as much as I did. For those who would like to email me, you can reach me at johndazel@hotmail.com. Please remember that if you like the stories here on Nifty to donate whatever you can to help keep this wonderful site up and running.

 

Now on to my generic disclaimer!-

 

The story you are about to read contains diaper use, violence, adult language and strong sexual content. The following is evil, illegal, should be banned, and all that other blah, blah, blah. If reading a coming of age story of self-discovery about pre-adolescent and adolescent boys that wet their beds, wear diapers, and explore their awakening sexuality with each other does not tickle your pickle (or if the law in your area says that pickle tickling is illegal) then don't read it.

 

 

Chapter 3: Thursday November 14^th, 2013 - 2:28pm

 

"Where are you taking me?" I asked after I noticed that we were getting on the freeway.

 

I had assumed I was going to be taken to some office building downtown, instead I noticed that we were going in the opposite direction, away from the downtown area. I had many more questions but I quickly got the idea that she was not going to answer most of them.

 

"I am taking you to a temporary foster family; where you will stay until we either locate your mother or another relative to take you in." The worker explained. She didn't elaborate any further; it was as if the only thing she cared about was getting me to this family.

 

This was all happening a little too fast for me. First my mother goes missing and doesn't come home. This of course caused fear to begin building inside of me. No one seemed to have any idea of what happened to her. The next thing I know, I am being whisked off to some temporary family. Part of me I guess didn't know what to say or even how to process everything that has happened. For a while I sat quietly and said nothing.

 

My mind was whisked a million miles away. I found myself in a fantasy world. A world where everything was okay; where nothing bad had happened to my mother. She and I were both safe and sound at home, going about our normal daily activities. In this fantasy that my mind created, my mom had just finished helping me with my homework. I then returned her help by helping her with getting our dinner started. Once dinner was in the oven we went out to the living room and turned on the TV. We were watching some comedy show that we both found amusing. Both of us were laughing loudly at the jokes. In this fantasy, I was not scared but was instead happy. It wasn't until I felt an uncomfortable pressure building in my bladder, that I was forced back to my horrible reality.

 

"Uh... How long will it take to get there?" I asked the worker while trying to tighten my bladder muscles closed.

 

"It will be about another hour before we arrive." She informed me and went back to her quiet driving.

 

"An hour!" I thought. "I'll never make it!" I worried to myself as my bladder continued to fill and ache.

 

I now knew that it had been a mistake drinking all that pop earlier. It had gone through me quickly and intensified my urgent need for a bathroom. If I had been more in my right mind, I would have made a trip to the bathroom before we had left. But worry about my mother and what was going to happen to me, made me not even consider doing this. There was no doubt about it, I needed to find a bathroom soon or I was going to wet myself.

 

"Ma'am, I really need to pee, can we please stop somewhere?" I begged the worker as the urgency started to increase beyond my control.

 

"Can you hold it for another half hour?" The worker asked me. "There is a Rest Area we can stop at up the road about 35 miles."

 

I really didn't think it was going to be possible for me to hold it another 5 minutes let alone another half hour. I pressed my hand into my crotch and squeezed tightly, hoping to hold back the floodgates a little longer. This act while working for the time being, only caused discomfort and pain to build as my bladder felt like it was about to burst. There was no way I was going to be able to hold it much longer. I knew that we had to stop now to keep me from having an embarrassing accident.

 

"Ma'am, can we please stop now!" I whined. "I can't hold it much longer. Please pull over and let me pee!" I begged. I was close to crying now.

 

I felt my eyes begin to burn slightly as my tear ducts filled. I was also finding the pressure in my bladder was becoming unbearable. If she would stop on the side of the freeway and let me pee, I just might be able to keep from wetting my pants.

 

"I am sorry. It is not only dangerous but also against the department policy to allow children to pee alongside the freeway." The worker lady sounded in my eyes, cold and uncaring.

 

By now I was squeezing my legs together as tight as I could. I also began to will my bladder to remain closed. No matter how much I tried though, the inevitable was about to happen.

 

"I'm going to pee my pants if we don't stop!" I cried out and silent tears soon followed.

 

I began to realize, that for the first time in years, I was about to wet my pants. In fact I could barely remember the last time I wet myself while awake. What I did remember was that it happened at school and I was made fun of terribly!

 

"There is an exit in about 13 miles. I guess we can get off there and stop at a gas station." The lady answered. The problem was, I knew I wasn't going to make it that long.

 

I felt pressure beyond any that I ever remembering experiencing coming from my bladder and suddenly, I felt the muscles weaken. A small squirt of hot urine sprayed inside of my pants. It felt like an eternity but I managed to get control back. For the moment I was okay, but I knew that it wouldn't be too much longer before I lost all control. I checked my pants for any sign of wetness and saw a small wet spot the size of a dime on them. Of course from the feel of my underpants, they had soaked up most of the pee that had come out of me.

 

"How are you doing back there?" The lady asked, I wasn't positive but I thought I might have heard a little concern in her voice.

 

I was about to answer her when I suddenly once again lost control briefly. This time the stream of urine lasted longer and it was now very obvious that I had wet my pants. My underpants were dampened with my warm urine and the dime size spot grew larger than an old silver dollar.

 

This time, once I gained control again, the pain and pressure that I had been feeling from my full bladder had reduced somewhat. I actually felt better. I knew that I still had to go desperately, but at least I found it easier to control myself. Unfortunately, this new found control didn't last very long. Within a couple minutes from my last squirt of urine that I accidently let go in my pants, I once again was feeling the bursting sensation of my impending loss of control.

 

Sooner than I wished, I found myself once again wincing from the pain coming from my bladder. I redoubled my efforts and strained every muscle to keep me from wetting myself further.

 

"Are you okay back there?" I once again heard the lady ask. "Are you still holding it?"

 

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and tried to compose myself. "Yes but I wet a little. If we don't stop soon, I am going to completely wet my pants." I sniffled.

 

"Oh dear!" The lady announced worriedly. I wasn't sure if she was worried about me almost wetting myself, or the fact that I might wet her backseat. "Try to hold it just a few more minutes." She tried to encourage me. The problem was, this felt like an impossible task that I was not able to carry out.

 

My bladder was starting to ache badly and I once again felt my control over it fail as a stream of pee entered my underpants and once again sodden them. By the time I gained control, the wet spot on my pants had grown to the size of my fist. Enough urine escaped this time that I had felt it come out and dribble over my crotch and down between my legs. Feeling the pee running beneath me, I feared that I might have gotten the seat wet. Fearing the worst, I stuck my hand under my butt and not only checked for wetness on the seat of my pants, but also the seat itself. I found both slightly damp but not overly soaked. Now if only I could last a bit longer before my next loss of control. Maybe I could get to the bathroom before I did any more damage to my pants or the backseat.

 

Like before, I felt a momentary feeling of relief from the pressure that was building in my bladder. It seemed that each time I lost control and peed a little in my pants, I was able to maintain control for the most part a little longer. But also like the first time, this feeling of relief lasted only seconds before the desperate need once again overcame me.

 

I started to rock in my backseat, hoping to somehow keep myself from peeing anymore. I looked out the window and saw a sign showing the next exit was 5 miles.

 

"God!" I thought to myself.

 

Time was going slower than I wished. I wanted desperately to already be at the gas station. It was hard to believe that only about 7 or 8 minutes had gone by since I was told about the exit.

 

As the need grew unbearable, I once again tried to use my hand to stop a possible leak. And like before, I again found myself on the losing end. I felt the wet warmth on my hand and spread between my legs. This time the flow lasted much longer and I knew that my seat now had a very obvious wet spot. I had felt it growing underneath me.

 

Since I had let so much more out this time, the ache in my bladder seemed to almost disappear. I felt now that I just might be able to make it to the gas station after all. The trouble was; the damage was already done. It no longer matter if I made it to the station or not. Both my seat and I were already wet and at this point it didn't matter if I let the rest of it out or not. Of course I wasn't about to do this. Years of toilet training ingrained in me, made me hold it as long as I could.

 

There was something else that I was noticing, though I did my best to deny it. I found that I actually liked the feeling of relief that I was feeling. The one I got every time I let a little more pee out of me. I don't know why this was the case, just that it was. Even the humiliation I was feeling from this experience also made me feel weird but not a bad weird, instead a good weird.

 

As we approached the exit, the worker tried to sound upbeat as she informed me that we were almost there. It was now that I began to worry. What was she going to say when she saw that I wet myself? Would she get upset and punish me? These thoughts though became less important as I felt another strong desperate need to pee, build inside my bladder.

 

We were now approaching the stop sign and I could see the gas station just a little way down the road. "Come on, just a little bit longer!" I silently pleaded my bladder.

 

The road was busy and we weren't able to turn right away. It was as if every car in America had suddenly decided to travel down this road at this exact moment. It felt as if the world was against me and that it wasn't going to give me a break. Finally though, the traffic cleared and we were able to make our turn. Just as we turned though, my bladder once again let go. I managed to stop the flow quickly but this time it didn't seem to give me much relieve from the pressure I was feeling in my bladder.

 

When we turned into the gas station I got ready to bolt from the car to the bathroom. I removed my seatbelt and had one hand on the door handle and the other, trying to hold back the floodgates.

 

When we came to a stop I tried to open my door but for some reason it would not budge. Up until now, I never had heard of child safety locks and so I didn't understand why I couldn't open the door. My frustration made me again lose control. This time though, I realized that I wasn't going to get it back. I tried and tried to stop the flow, but my pee just kept on coming out of me. Finally I broke down and started to sob as my bladder emptied itself. The lady had heard my crying and turned in her seat to look at me. It didn't take her long to see what I had done! As far as I cared, I was now on the spot ... All Alone!