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Sissy Room
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By Sissytiff17 · Posted
I see him walking towards me and was kinda scared but excited at the same time -
Since this comes up with some frequency, see: -
By Draco_Americanus · Posted
To be honest I don't care if he does. I am glad we have some one that knows what room he is in or can find his way off stage or going on with stupid quotes from Mao. LOL My bladder is unburdened by what has been.... -
By SoggyRunner · Posted
For me it was a mixed bag and something that evolved as I got older. Up until school age, around 6, it didn’t really bother me. Mostly it would just be my parents and brothers who would know, and one of them was still in diapers then and too young to really care that his older brother had an accident. A number of factors were at play for me then. First, I used to intentionally delay going to the bathroom and hold it (#1 and #2) until the last minute, with the result of sometimes having an accident or partial one on the way to the bathroom. I did this in part to avoid having to stop what I was doing for the bathroom, but also because I enjoyed the feeling of holding and the growing urgency. At times, I just let myself have an “accident”. This was exacerbated by the fact that my urges for going #2 would often come on quite quickly and strongly. Usually, the initial urge would subside and I could get to a bathroom, but sometimes it didn’t. When I had an accident or an “accident”, I would usually tell my mom or dad, and I don’t remember feeling ashamed or trying to hide it. They would be frustrated if it seemed I was just ignoring my potty needs and it was avoidable, but they didn’t shame me and I didn’t really get in trouble. I was probably a little more worried if other kids knew I’d had an accident, but at that age they were not uncommon, and it seemed to be forgotten quickly if anything was said at all. I was also fascinated by other kid's accidents. I knew which kids were accident prone and was always on the lookout for one happening. I also liked hearing other kids or their parents telling about accidents they had. It was like I had a sixth sense about spotting wet pants or a potty dance, or of overhearing snippets of conversation around accidents. Rather than tease or shame friends or classmates about one, I was more likely to want to know what happened and to help them deal with it (go with them to tell a parent or teacher, etc.) My interest in diapers started around this age, too, or at least that’s when I became aware of it. I think these interests led me to have less shame about accidents in general. As I got to school age, things started to change. My interest in diapers and accidents didn’t go away, but I quickly became aware of the social implications. I would still do my holding and intentionally wet or mess my pants (or a diaper if I could get one), but I now did this in secret and hid the “evidence”. I sometimes did things that risked being “caught” by my peers like holding until I was leaking and on the verge of losing control or wearing a diaper while playing outside. I liked the feeling of naughtiness and thrill of getting away with it, but would have felt a lot of shame if discovered. I did have a few genuine accidents, and for those I felt a great deal of embarrassment. Not shame for the accident itself, but for other kids knowing what had happened. I wet my pants in class in first grade, but it happened to other kids too and I was mostly ashamed about letting my teacher down, even though she was understanding. My first real experience with shame over an accident came in fourth grade (age 9) when I had a sudden onset of diarrhea while sitting at my desk. I should have immediately told my teacher, but was so shocked and embarrassed that I just continued working and tried to hide it while I had multiple accidents over the last hour of the day. At first, it seemed I might get away unnoticed, but classmates began noticing the smell. Shockingly they either couldn’t figure out who it was or did and decided not to say, and I ended up staying quiet and riding the bus home in my now obviously soiled pants. I was loudly outed by a girl on the bus as having messed my pants, and was in tears by the time I got home. I even tried to hide my accident from my mom, but she immediately realized what happened and was very sympathetic as she helped me clean up. Even then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I had the accident in class and didn’t say anything when she assumed I had not been able to hold it on the bus ride. I felt shame for my peers knowing and for my failing to deal with it when it first happened, but not for the accident itself. I felt the same thing several years later at around age 13 on a long school trip on a coach bus. There was a bathroom on the bus, but it was out of order on the return trip. They made a restroom stop with 2 hours remaining and announced no more stops until we were back at the school. Being 13 and not thinking things through fully, I bought a soda at the rest stop, and shortly after resuming the trip I needed to pee again. I was usually very good at holding (I had years of practice), but with an hour to go I was already desperate, and I was quite worried I wouldn’t make it. I could feel the shame building as the likelihood of wetting myself on a bus with my classmates grew, and the anxiety over that was making my need to go even worse. The last 15 minutes were miserable, but I made it to the school with just slightly damp undies and nothing visible on my jeans. It was nighttime and the school was locked up, so we waited in the parking lot for our parents to pick us up. At this point, I was at my absolute limit and trying my best to not let it show how desperate I was. My parents arrived not long after we did and by the time we were home, my pants were pretty wet. It wasn't that I wet myself that I was worried about. I wet my pants on purpose once or twice a week in private. It was the thought of my classmates seeing it and the shame of becoming the kid who wet his pants on the field trip that I feared. Something about the social order of school - a mix of friends, acquaintances, enemies, and authority figures just ratchets up the shame. I remember another accident, also at around age 9, where we were visiting friends in another town with daughters the same ages as me and my brothers. We were playing in the creek behind their house when I got a sudden #2 urge and filled my pants on the way inside to the bathroom. Everyone including all of the kids knew I’d had an accident - I had to wear sweatpants and undies from one of their daughters the rest of the evening, and even though I was somewhat embarrassed about it, I didn’t really feel shame. I think that’s because it was with friends and family I trusted to be understanding and not think less of me because of an accident. In the mixed social dynamic of school, neighborhood kids, church, etc. it was different for me. I wanted to fit in and be normal, and anything inviting ridicule or bullying was frightening and brought on shame that I otherwise wouldn’t feel. -
By Draco_Americanus · Posted
Oddly enough I can hold more urine in my bladder while stoned, my theory to that is it calms down my mood, so I am not thinking about it all the time.
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