Early life; why am I this way?

[wetcindy]

I am just wondering if I am alone. Does anyone else have a story that is anything like mine? (following):
I have loved to wear and wet my pants, diapers, and plastic pants ever since I can remember. My mom didn't like disposables so I grew up wearing mostly cloth diapers and plastic pants. They are still my favorite, but I like disposables, too. Even though I wet my pants all the time during the day, I usually only wore diapers at night to keep my bed at least somewhat dry.

I think that my mom figured that if everybody could see it when I wet my pants in public, I would be embarrassed into stopping. But she had no idea that I could never stop, because the rush of tingly feelings that I would get all over my body when I wet my pants was far more powerful than any attempts to get me to stop. Besides, the embarrassment, humiliation, and teasing made it even more exciting!

From my earliest memories, I had quite a reputation as Wet Cindy Pants (or sometimes Cindy Wet Pants). At the time I really never gave it much thought. Even as I got older, I couldn’t understood why some people would make a fuss over something that didn’t even affect them, while giving me such immense pleasure and a sense of peace. For me, wetting my pants was, and still is, as normal and natural as breathing. I could never no more give up one than the other.

Back to the beginning:
Even if my little pants were already wet, other children (who knew of my reputation) were constantly asking me to wet my pants for them while they watched. Because I felt no shame or embarrassment about it, and I loved to do it in my pants (especially in front of other girls who I hoped I could talk into wetting together with me), I never hesitated as long as I could go enough to make my crotch wet.

But my favorite way was to wet my pants as fast and as heavily as I could, without any warning signs at all. I loved to wet so hard that that there would even be loud hissing, swirling noises in my pants. Then I would keep playing in my wet pants as if it had never happened. After a few minutes the teasing would stop as we all returned to our play. Then as we kept playing I would continue to wet my pants on purpose whenever I felt like I wanted to go, and nobody would even comment, even though they were watching.

To this day I am most excited when I can blatantly wet my pants in public and my friends can simply accept it as “Cindy just being herself.”

[Scotsboy]

Yours is a wonderful story, Cindy. My story isn't the same, sadly, but I wish it was!

When I was in 5th year in primary school at the age of 10, there was a girl in my class who would stand in P.E. class with wet shorts on. Nobody seemed to notice or say anything, not even the teachers. I saw her again in P.E. class another time with wet shorts once more, but nothing was said.

This girl would seem as close to you, Cindy, from my own personal experiences. I loved the fact nobody made a fuss about her wettings... it was as if, "Oh, it's Susan, it's okay for her to wet her pants." Of course, she may have been teased by others which I didn't see, and she may have been told off by teachers, I don't know.

Fast forward 6 years, I was at a party and Susan was there. And yes, she had a big wet patch on her crotch! I couldn't believe it. I thought she would have grown out of wetting herself by now, at the age of 16. And again, like 6 years earlier, nobody said anything or made a fuss.

I wish I had taken more of an interest in Susan, but my interest in wetting wasn't as intense back then, and I never really saw her again after that party. I've always wondered how long she carried on wetting herself for. Goodness me, she may still be a wetter today!


By the way, Cindy, I'm surprised your mother wasn't more strict with your wetting. It would appear she accepted your wettings and hoped you would grow out of it.

[lhansen]

The Neighbor Girl

I simply had to answer this post because it has everything to do with my long interest in women who wet their pants. When I was growing up I also had not one neighbor, but several who at one time or another wet their pants. I’ll tell you a little bit about them, even though I’ve written more about these ladies on these and other pages before. Every time I think about my youth they always seem to find their way into my thoughts and that is in a good way.

There was the neighbor girl, two years younger than I, who regularly peed her pants. There was little doubt that her panties would be wet whenever she was wearing a dress or skirt. I saw her numerous times getting off the school bus at the end of the school day with a saucer size stain on the rear of her skirt, usually, I guess, caused from a pair of wet panties. She was quite smart and I’m pretty sure she did it deliberately because she didn’t want to use the toilets in school or was just to lazy to walk that far. I often saw her walking with a friend at lunch or between classes out on the commons. I think she generally did her wetting out on the grass because I never heard of her doing it in class. She was tall, blond and quite pretty, but also quiet and bashful. There were several times that a small round circle appeared on the front of her dress because she pinched herself and her wet panties. There was one warm spring evening when she was in her teens and out selling some item for her girls club. She was wearing a cute light colored dress that reached just below her knees and flat soled shoes. I saw her going door to door and when she saw me stopped to talk. She was holding a bag with a strap that went over her shoulder but using her other hand to hide a wet patch centered right over her pussy. Sometime during her little venture she'd wet her pants. Later someone told me that this cute little teen age blonde had a crush on me. I never new.

I will never forget the warm afternoon we spent just as she was entering her sophomore year of high school. She was wearing a faded, light green, one-piece swimsuit under a t-shirt. The t-shirt just reached her hips and all though she tried regularly to pull it lower to cover her pussy, it would not stay there. A nearly dry pee stain surrounded her mound in front and reached a third of the way up her bottom crack in back. She just did not care. She caused a lot of problems for me that afternoon and for the rest of my life.

I moved away about a year after that, but as far as I know she still wet on occasion. I know for sure she caused me to be the way I am.

I even saw her mother with a six-inch stain on the back of her skirt when I went to their house for lunch one day. I think that she probably wet her panties also for some reason and then sat down transferring the wetness to her skirt. As I remember, she was a pretty lady in her thirties that every now and then seemed to smell of pee, so I can only look back and think “like mother, like daughter”. It really might have been Ok for them to wet in their family and this pretty daughter was simply copying her mother, who she knew also regularly wet her pants.

I also remember my sister baby sitting for another lady and complaining to my mother about the lady’s mother-in law, who must have been near fifty standing in the kitchen on the linoleum floor casually letting it run down her legs. She would ask my sister to clean up the puddle. I heard the neighbor lady say, “tell her to clean it up herself, she’s just to lazy to walk to the bathroom”. I think back and recall that this lady also looked pretty good for her age.

No wonder I love wetting. What about the rest of you?

[Dusty Harold]

Remembering

My earliest experience , though , different from yours , was the fact that It
influenced my interests in why some people young & old wet themselves at times.

Both by accidentally having it occur in a public place at the time . In my case that started me into trying to sort out all my feelings at what I saw that day .

Back in the the 7th grade in P.E. class , { Same as Scotsboy } , that lead me on my life long search of trying to find more information about it all .

My feelings , thoughts as to what I felt . How it arouses me so now , but , then I couldn't understand as to why it did so .

The case in question is , when watching a girl in my P.E. class wet herself !
Being laughed at , made fun of , called names by classmates jeering at her and snickering as well . Except for me that is .

I felt both very aroused , but , also felt more sadness as well for that girl who wet right in front of me that day.

I knew how she felt , embarrassed , Humiliated , afraid , but , also maybe so alone in what had happened tor her .

Whether or not , she , intended to do this in a class room of kids and a Teacher as well / for her own pleasure and arousal too . I don't know for sure which she was doing at that time .

Like in what you feel and think about , Wet Cindy , when you went about wetting your pants for what you derive from it all .

I must admit that I at that time in my life . had trouble with all I was thinking as well as all the feelings of immense arousal I had as a result of what I had seen that day in P. E . class Plus of how I felt about that girl .

Who I never saw in class ever again . After that day . Still wondering if she did it for enjoyment / out of being an accidental wetting that had occurred to her . I may never know ...

Wet Cindy , It wasn't till just a few years ago . That I have started to understand why some people , like yourself , derive so much pleasure and arousal in wetting their pants . Especially in public as you have done .

I Have wet my pants in private . Since I don't wish to suffer any shame nor humiliation for what I do enjoy doing when I get a chance to indulge myself at times .

Because my life has always been a struggle for me to learn , talk and walk .
Due to slow development throughout my life . Both from birth to present day at 54 yrs. of age .

I had to put up with being called names , made fun of , humiliated and made to feel worthless as a Human being as well .

Wet Cindy , that's another story all it's own . That has played a part in what I feel and think . When I want to enjoy wetting myself , though , trying to understand as why others enjoy wetting . Then also being humiliated and made fun of in being aroused more from it .

Along with the arousal of the actually wetting itself . This is what I been searching for so long in .

Please , don't take for granted . That I grew up before the advent of the inter net came online . So it was harder for me , then yourself , in finding information .

That of sharing of our experiences with other like minded persons today . Then it was when I was your age back then .

I don't wish to deride the the fact of how everyone here enjoys reading and relating to about the many experiences others wish to share on here with other like minded persons as yourself as well . .

I do immensely enjoy wetting my pants , mostly in private , at sitting at my computer at times . Chatting with others in chat rooms . Plus sharing my experiences as well on here with you and everyone else on here as well .

Though , being single at my age . I truly would love to find some woman out there some where . To finally join me in wetting ourselves together . Then having some real great sex after wards .

As a result of watching each other enjoying a wetting session. Knowing we both love to do it , But , that we both love each other for what we do .

Wet Cindy , I didn't attend to make this a long drawn out story . Though , I
wanted to explain somewhat how I felt and thought about what everyone does for enjoyment in their wetting experiences and sharing them too .

Thank You , for your contribution on starting this thread here . I Hope others
will also add , comment . Plus also compliment on ot as well .

getting feed back from others is important to all .

Dusty Harold

[SAMan1]

Thanks for sharing your history with us Cindy, it is a lovely little story. As a matter of interest - did you ever succeed in convincing a friend to join you with the wetting games?

[Omo Rashi]

I even saw her mother with a six-inch stain on the back of her skirt when I went to their house for lunch one day. I think that she probably wet her panties also for some reason and then sat down transferring the wetness to her skirt. As I remember, she was a pretty lady in her thirties that every now and then seemed to smell of pee, so I can only look back and think “like mother, like daughter”.

I am almost sure the whole thing is hereditary. I never saw my mother in wet pants but I am certain that she had a sexual interest in the topic. I had already experienced this hook myself (in my mid-teens) when the following incident happened:

My mother and I were shopping in a supermarket when a group of boys of about 13/14 years came in. I was surprised to see that one of them had a big pee stain in his lap. He had obviously peed himself just a minute or two before as it was really fresh, and he must just have stopped crying because his eyes were still wet. It will have been a true accident and not on purpose. An accident at that age was clearly unusual. Although I am completely hetero I found (and still find) male accidents "interesting" (while female ones are arousing). I found it worth telling my mother what I had seen and was surprised by her reaction: She immediately wanted to see the boy and from then on her eyes were glued to him. She tried to conceal her extreme interest by saying, as calmly as she could, things like "In fact, that is strange. Poor boy." But she could not keep her eyes from him and her face looked excited in a way I had never seen before...

In that moment I just found it odd to which extent she showed her interest in the boy's accident. Thinking about it (and knowing a lot more about our feelings) much later, I am sure she was "one of us". I remember other occasional, not frequent, bits in conversations where she made some sudden and unexptected remark concerning the topic of "having to go" or "peeing oneself".

We never talked about it, however. She (at the time both of us) were way too inhibited.

[AndysFetish]

Meeting Others

I came on here tonight to ask how a male meets a female with the same interests (fetishes) and I was very happy to hear from WetCindy again. I miss you!

Anyway, I would like to meet a middle-aged woman with like-minded fetishes on the west coast. I know this is not a "dating-site"', but the point is that I would like any suggestions from either gender as to how to make any headway in this regard.

Hope to hear and see more of you, Cindy!

Andy XO

[Cool69002]

My ondinist fetish comes from the times when my cute cousin, whom I secretly was in love with, peed her pants out of laughing. Watching a girl who was 5-year older than I wetting herself has shaped my sexual fantasies. I remember that, one time, she pissed her shorts in front of me and some of her friends. I remember another time when she arrived at our home with an almost dry path on her shorts crotch. I was reported that, after drinking a lot of sake, she utterly pissed her jeans in a restaurant.

Moreover, many years ago, when I still was a 10-year old boy, my aunt related an urinary accident which had happened to her. She was coming back from a drinking party, she had been totally desperate during all the trip in her car, and when she arrived in front of her house door, she didn't make it, soaking her tights, her shoes and even her skirts. She related several times this story, with a lot of laughing, as though she accepted her accident. Figuring out a pretty blond-haired 40-year old woman peeing her panties was significantly arousing for me, even I was a pre-teen at that time.

It was the contrast between the fact that a grown up woman or a teen can wet herself and the fact that children are taught and forbidden not to wet themself. It is obviously the forbidden side of this kind of accidents intended to happen only to children and not to attractive women, which my sexual fetish originates from.

[diaperpailpat]

My story isn't like yours, but it involves a girl who sounds much like you. Here's an excerpt from my "story" (which--if I ever finish it--I'll post it):


I lived in a nice middle-class neighborhood. The family to our left was of Italian heritage and the youngest of three kids was a girl who was my age named Mary Jane. There was a thin area of woods between the houses and in the summer I couldn't see her house from mine, but where the back yards bordered there was an open area that connected the two. There was a small covered concrete porch on that end of their house where her father sat every afternoon and read the newspaper after work.

While playing outside I would often walk over there if I heard her and other kids outside. Well, one sunny summer day, not long after wetting the training pants at my grandmother's house, I saw Mary Jane sitting cross-legged on the on the porch and went over there. As I approached I saw she had a sheepish grin on her face. She said "Guess what I did? I peed with my britches on!"

I looked down and she was wearing a pair of red and green "tartan" patterned shorts that were SOAKED, and there was a big puddle of pee under her butt.

You always seem to remember minute details of things that had a profound effect on you and I guess that's why I can still see her sitting there, in my mind, as clearly as if this had happened an hour ago.

I asked "Did you have an accident?" and she said no, that she had just done it for fun. She just sat there talking to me as if nothing in the world out-of-the-ordinary had happened. This made me feel so excited that I remember feeling weak in the knees. She said "It's fun! You should try it sometime."

I went home and for the next hour or so, I could not get this out of my mind. This, and the memory of my wetting the training pants bowled me over like a tidal wave. Eventually I decided to go back over there to see if she was still sitting there and ask more questions but when I got there she was gone and the door was closed. I knocked but nobody was home.

I then looked down and saw her soaked shorts and white panties looking as if she'd just slid them down her legs and gone inside and left them there in her puddle of pee. I stared at them longingly for what seemed like five minutes, feeling the same warm, happy, excited and ecstatic emotions as when I’d peed in the training pants.

I edged closer and closer. I felt the strangest urge to touch them, and I did, feeling the still warm wetness of the fabric and the slippery pee on my fingers.

Suddenly I was overcome with the desire to smell them. I looked around and made sure that nobody else was nearby then picked them up and pressed them up against my face. I sniffed the wet crotch of her yellow-stained white panties and became terribly excited by the musky scent of her pee. I loved it and I couldn't quit sniffing them.

Finally I did. I didn't want them to arrive home and catch me smelling Mary Jane's pee pants so I put them back where I'd found them and ran home. I then went in my bedroom and locked the door and sat on the floor and peed in MY pants.

I sat in my puddle of pee, rubbing it all over myself. I took off my shorts and rubbed myself through my wet underpants, until it started getting cold. I loved the feeling, the smell, and the way the wet, yellow pee stain looked on the white cloth.

After a while, I got a bathroom towel and wiped up the pee and hid my wet underpants in the closet.

For the next few days I frequently got them out and smelled them. I loved the way the smell changed over time—from musky pee to the sweet ammonia smell of wet diapers in a diaper pail. That’s when I suddenly realized that if one pair of day-old peed-in cotton underpants smelled that good, a big pail full of wet diapers must be a fountain of olfactory heaven. I knew that when the opportunity presented itself, I would have to find out.

After the Mary Jane pants wetting “series of events” I started noticing long lines of diapers hanging out to dry on their clothesline. They’d probably been there all along. I had never paid much attention before. But now I saw them and thought “Mary Jane must WEAR DIAPERS.”

I never noticed her wearing them during the day, and figured that she must wet the bed and wear them at nights, around the house in the mornings, etc.

I pictured her waking up in the morning in wet diapers and plastic pants, getting them changed, having accidents. I wondered if she also every pooped in them. Imagining these things gave me the same wonderful feelings I was now beginning to associate with panty and diaper wetting.

Mary Jane’s mother was a bitch, and I imagined her yelling at her for being a diaper wearing baby. This, too, excited me and over time led grew into my desire to be humiliated for wearing diapers.

Though I played with her often, it was never in her house. Her mother wouldn’t allow other kids inside. This was a pity, because I always wanted to go in her room and see if she a big, full, smelly diaper pail. Maybe her diapers had something to do with why other kids were not allowed in their house?

[Omo Rashi]

I have loved to wear and wet my pants, diapers, and plastic pants ever since I can remember.
...
But she had no idea that I could never stop, because the rush of tingly feelings that I would get all over my body when I wet my pants was far more powerful than any attempts to get me to stop. Besides, the embarrassment, humiliation, and teasing made it even more exciting!
...
At the time I really never gave it much thought. Even as I got older, I couldn’t understood why some people would make a fuss over something that didn’t even affect them, while giving me such immense pleasure and a sense of peace.
...
Because I felt no shame or embarrassment about it, and I loved to do it in my pants (especially in front of other girls who I hoped I could talk into wetting together with me), I never hesitated as long as I could go enough to make my crotch wet.

Indeed it is interesting to compare what Cindy said here with poopy_dipes's account. I am sure Cindy will like it as she can see she is not alone. I wonder how many girls have these feelings and desires. Also, would be nice to have Marie Jane's own words although it is also interesting to read this first in (active) Cindy's words and then in (watching) poopy_dipes's words. The virus immediately came over to him...

Very interesting thread.

My story isn't like yours, but it involves a girl who sounds much like you.
...
As I approached I saw she had a sheepish grin on her face. She said "Guess what I did? I peed with my britches on!" I looked down and she was wearing a pair of red and green "tartan" patterned shorts that were SOAKED, and there was a big puddle of pee under her butt.
...
I asked "Did you have an accident?" and she said no, that she had just done it for fun. She just sat there talking to me as if nothing in the world out-of-the-ordinary had happened.
...
She said "It's fun! You should try it sometime."
...
After the Mary Jane pants wetting “series of events” I started noticing long lines of diapers hanging out to dry on their clothesline. They’d probably been there all along. I had never paid much attention before. But now I saw them and thought “Mary Jane must WEAR DIAPERS.”
...
Mary Jane’s mother was a bitch, and I imagined her yelling at her for being a diaper wearing baby. This, too, excited me and over time led grew into my desire to be humiliated for wearing diapers.

[wetcindy]

I'd love to meet Susan!

This girl would seem as close to you, Cindy, from my own personal experiences. I loved the fact nobody made a fuss about her wettings... it was as if, "Oh, it's Susan, it's okay for her to wet her pants." Of course, she may have been teased by others which I didn't see, and she may have been told off by teachers, I don't know.

By the way, Cindy, I'm surprised your mother wasn't more strict with your wetting. It would appear she accepted your wettings and hoped you would grow out of it.

Susan does sound a lot like me, (I'd love to meet her!). For me, it was so common that nobody even gave it a second thought. If they did, it was just when they said something like..."Look, Cindy wet her pants again." It was just accepted, and even expected, so I am excited to hear that it was OK for Susan to wet her pants, too! Regarding my Mom's acceptance of my constant wetting, I think she gave it up pretty early when she realized there was essentially no chance of changing anything.

I did have one friend, though, who would always ask me if I was wet, even when it was obvious that I was. I think she just liked to talk about it with me, and to get me to show her how wet I was, and I was always happy to do both. I had another friend who would wet her pants with me. I'll tell more about her later.

[GOP]

Here is a repost of a message I posted a few years ago on how I got started wetting my pants.

I was very late (almost 5) in being trained to poop on the toilet. I was trained to pee in the toilet early, but I was afraid to sit on the toilet. To a 2-4 year old, the big hole in the seat can look very intimidating. Training pants didn't exist in the early 70's. After I had outgrown diapers, pooping in my pants was my standard method of pooping for over two years. Of course when one poops, pee comes out as well. Every day, sometimes twice a day, I would wet and mess my pants. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed feeling the warm pee spreading around my penis and balls, watching the wet stain spread over my frontal area, feeling the pee soak my crotch, and then feeling and watching the pee make a swath down both pant legs. I loved feeling and watching the cloth go from dry to wet. I compared the feeling and look of different types of pants: jeans, polyester, and courdory(sp?). sometimes I would stand on a towel to absorb the pee that my pant legs couldn't hold, sometimes I would stop peeing when the pee reached the bottom of my pand legs and then finish peeing in the toilet, and sometimes I just let a puddle form on the floor. After peeing, I would poop in my pants. I still remember it after all these years. I can picture several specific wettings/messings. I will now share details of one partuicularly memorable one. I was four years old and wearing dark blue polyester pants. I sat down on the edge of the bath tub (why this wasn't scary but the toilet seat was, I will neber know). I unzipped my pants and positioned my penis pointing straight up, covered by my underwear. I let out a small dribble, and watched the small wet patch appear in my underwear. I then moved my penis to a dry spot, and let out a little pee again. I continued this until the entire front ogf my underwear was wet. Then I pulled my penis out of my undwerwear, positioned it on my pants, peed a little, moved it to a dry spot, and repeatred until the entire front of my pants was wet. Then I put my penis back inside my underwear, zipped up my pants, stood up, peed my pants down to the floor, and finally pooped my pants. I was finally potty trained just before turning five. I missed peeing and pooping in my pants. During summers, I would play outside in the waterhose and sprinkler fully clothed (wetlook with water has also always been an interest of mine). Sometimes I would pee my pants before soaking them with water. When I was fifteen (able to operate the washer and dryer by then), I started peeing and pooping my pants sometimes when my parents would be gone several hours (and masturbating in them). This is how I got started.

[Maria]

With me it started when I was about 7 or 8, I used to go out to the oak grove behind our house with my older brother. We had taken some old logs and built a hideaway which we called our "fort." We would dare each other to do crazy things. I would dare him to swing on an old rope out over the river when it was rushing with water after a rain. A few times he dared me to pee in my pants and I did it, even though Mom gave me hell for it. It was no secret that I kind of liked it.

Later on, he started hanging out with other guys, "no girls allowed" kind of stuff. But I figure it was my "fort" too, so I would tease all the boys and make a real pest of myself. I must have been about ten at the time. He chased me and wrestled me to the ground, then had his friends hold me down while he tickled me until I wet my pants in front of the guys. I ran off crying for Mommy, but was secretly thrilled.

About a year later the same thing happened, only this time I had teased them on purpose, hoping that he would make me wet my pants.

At that age you want to be all grown up but you are still a kid, so we still played kids' games like Truth or Dare. My brother asked me to tell the truth about how many boys I had kissed, or else take the dare. I didn't want to admit that I had never kissed a boy, so I took the dare. I guess I knew what he would dare me to do. I did it in front of the other kids, who all acted like they thought I was gross, but I am pretty sure at least one of the boys was excited.

I still thought it was just a weird "hobby" I had until one night when some of us teenagers went to a them park. Yolanda Ruiz and her boyfriend, who were the town drunks, sort of invited themselves along, even though they were grown-ups. They were really smashed. When they went through the Haunted House, something jumped out at Yolanda and she got scared and peed in her shorts. Instead of feeling ashamed and asking to go home, she and her boyfriend were teasing about it in a way that was obviously sexual. That's when I knew that some people thought it was sexy and that I was one of them.