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Hey guys. Here is a short, true story that I thought you might enjoy.
So last night I wet the bed, unprotected, at my girlfriend's house with her in it. It was the single most humiliating experience of my life but a big part of me loved every second of it.
A little background: I wet the bed pretty regularly up until I was about 7 years old. I was totally ashamed of it and then after I stopped I became paranoid about it starting back up again. At some point the fear of bedwetting turned into an obsession, and I think that is where all my diaper/wetting related kinks came from. So bedwetting has always been my deepest fetish. I wet the bed on purpose occasionally, but since I stopped accidentally wetting the bed when I was 7, I've had two genuine accidents.
The first I managed to get away with, more or less. It was on my 18th birthday, I drank too much, passed out and woke up wet. My parents found out but as far as I know no one else did. I was too hung over to really enjoy it so it's never been a great memory. The second was last night. I was at Oktoberfest in Brisbane with my girlfriend until about 11, drinking a lot. We got back to her place and crashed immediately. Seven hours later I woke up very cold, wondering why I was so sweaty. It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd wet the bed. I'd had quite a bit to drink, but certainly not an unusual amount by my standards. This made it all the more humiliating because it felt like I didn't really have an excuse - I hadn't passed out lost all control of my bodily functions, I had just wet the bed like a child.
I didn't want to wake up my girlfriend so early so I just lay there in the wet patch. It was nerve wracking knowing that eventually, she was going to discover it and there was nothing I could do about it, but it was thrilling too, living out one of my oldest fantasies against my will. It was totally surreal. About two hours later, she started to wake up and she moved over to my side of the bed to cuddle. I stopped her, and she could tell something was wrong. Telling my girlfriend of only a few months, "I wet the bed" was both mortifying and elating. I hadn't spoken those words to anyone since I was 7 years old telling my mum in the middle of the night and all the feelings of shame and humiliation that I associate with them came rushing back.
She was pretty cool about it. She could see how embarrassed I was, and I could tell that she was trying not to make it worse. Her being visibly aware of how humiliating the situation was somehow made it even more embarrassing. It felt almost like she was babying me. She's not aware of my kinks (and probably never will be) so she had no idea that part of me was enjoying it. She suggested that I could put a towel down if I wanted to keep sleeping, which is just what my mum used to do when I was a little. After we got up a little later she stripped off the wet sheets and took them out to the laundry. The wet patch on the bed was large but barely visible by this point, which was lucky because she lives in a very busy share-house. A bunch of her friends came into her room as soon as they knew she was up. I don't think anyone noticed the wet bed which was mostly relieving but again, a part of me wanted them all to see what I had done and make fun of me. In any case, she's going to have to clean the bed at some point and I have a feeling that everyone in the house is going to find out when she does.
I'd love it if she started making fun of me for it - calling me bedwetter or a baby when we're alone or jokingly picking up packs of Drynites when go past them in the supermarket, but I know she won't. She's too nice and it would just be weird if I tried to encourage it. All in all though, it was a pretty great experience, although I might not think that later in a different frame of mind. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I never had a choice, so I've got nothing to regret. Whether I like it or not, and whether she admits it or not, I'll always be a bedwetter in her eyes.
So last night I wet the bed, unprotected, at my girlfriend's house with her in it. It was the single most humiliating experience of my life but a big part of me loved every second of it.
A little background: I wet the bed pretty regularly up until I was about 7 years old. I was totally ashamed of it and then after I stopped I became paranoid about it starting back up again. At some point the fear of bedwetting turned into an obsession, and I think that is where all my diaper/wetting related kinks came from. So bedwetting has always been my deepest fetish. I wet the bed on purpose occasionally, but since I stopped accidentally wetting the bed when I was 7, I've had two genuine accidents.
The first I managed to get away with, more or less. It was on my 18th birthday, I drank too much, passed out and woke up wet. My parents found out but as far as I know no one else did. I was too hung over to really enjoy it so it's never been a great memory. The second was last night. I was at Oktoberfest in Brisbane with my girlfriend until about 11, drinking a lot. We got back to her place and crashed immediately. Seven hours later I woke up very cold, wondering why I was so sweaty. It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd wet the bed. I'd had quite a bit to drink, but certainly not an unusual amount by my standards. This made it all the more humiliating because it felt like I didn't really have an excuse - I hadn't passed out lost all control of my bodily functions, I had just wet the bed like a child.
I didn't want to wake up my girlfriend so early so I just lay there in the wet patch. It was nerve wracking knowing that eventually, she was going to discover it and there was nothing I could do about it, but it was thrilling too, living out one of my oldest fantasies against my will. It was totally surreal. About two hours later, she started to wake up and she moved over to my side of the bed to cuddle. I stopped her, and she could tell something was wrong. Telling my girlfriend of only a few months, "I wet the bed" was both mortifying and elating. I hadn't spoken those words to anyone since I was 7 years old telling my mum in the middle of the night and all the feelings of shame and humiliation that I associate with them came rushing back.
She was pretty cool about it. She could see how embarrassed I was, and I could tell that she was trying not to make it worse. Her being visibly aware of how humiliating the situation was somehow made it even more embarrassing. It felt almost like she was babying me. She's not aware of my kinks (and probably never will be) so she had no idea that part of me was enjoying it. She suggested that I could put a towel down if I wanted to keep sleeping, which is just what my mum used to do when I was a little. After we got up a little later she stripped off the wet sheets and took them out to the laundry. The wet patch on the bed was large but barely visible by this point, which was lucky because she lives in a very busy share-house. A bunch of her friends came into her room as soon as they knew she was up. I don't think anyone noticed the wet bed which was mostly relieving but again, a part of me wanted them all to see what I had done and make fun of me. In any case, she's going to have to clean the bed at some point and I have a feeling that everyone in the house is going to find out when she does.
I'd love it if she started making fun of me for it - calling me bedwetter or a baby when we're alone or jokingly picking up packs of Drynites when go past them in the supermarket, but I know she won't. She's too nice and it would just be weird if I tried to encourage it. All in all though, it was a pretty great experience, although I might not think that later in a different frame of mind. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I never had a choice, so I've got nothing to regret. Whether I like it or not, and whether she admits it or not, I'll always be a bedwetter in her eyes.
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