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As those of you who have read my stories in the past know, I like to explore the philosophical and narrative implications of accidents – what is a “real” accident as opposed to a false one? Can one set out to have an intentional accident by putting oneself in a situation where one loses control? I have succeeded on many occasions in having what I call an “intentional accident” (an “on-purpose”), for example, by drinking a beer or two and a lot of water, and then going out for a drive on a limited access highway or toll road, where the opportunities to stop are few and far between, and then holding on until I truly can’t anymore. But is this really an accident?
This is not to say that I have arrived at any consistent or satisfying answer to these questions. (And this is not my only interest – in my own practices (always in private), I frequently go in my pants quite intentionally.) I’m not sure I can even define an accident. It involves loss of control. It includes at least the possibility of discovery, of being witnessed. It involves a degree of purposelessness -- by this standard, setting out to have an accident is impossible; an oxymoron -- if you wanted it to happen, it ain’t an accident. But wait -- what about the situation where someone is struggling to desperately hold it (in a stuck elevator, for instance), and finally gives up because they realize that the pain of holding it just isn’t worth it and decides that wetting her pants wouldn’t be the end of the world? So, in essence she “wanted” to end the discomfort and is reconciled to the consequences?.
Aside from the physical, literal, loss of control, an accident has the component of a situation developing where something happens that wasn’t anticipated. So getting drunk and passing out and peeing your pants is a consequence of getting drunk -- it could have been avoided if you didn't get drunk. Or failing to take advantage of a freeway rest stop, for example, on a school field trip, and subsequently wetting yourself on the bus, could have been avoided too. By this standard, an accident is never really an accident, but of course we know that conclusion is absurd.
Then there are the "accidents" that little kids experience, where they momentarily forget their toilet training and continue playing after they've wet themselves. (I am referring to kids who have already been toilet trained -- I don’t count the diapered wettings that babies make as “accidents” at all; they are elimination of waste that happens to be caught by a barrier). Whether or not they are somewhat purposeful, we conventionally refer to them as accidents, on the assumption that cognitively, the child either didn’t expect that peeing with his clothes on would wet his clothes, or that anyone should really care very much whether they are wearing pants that are wet with pee. But here is a question: what if an adult genuinely doesn’t care either. Does that make her deliberate pants wetting “accidental” by the same token? Somehow, in my opinion, it doesn’t. But if one is habituated to wetting an adult diaper whereever and whenever she wants, and then goes out one day without the diaper, and forgets that it isn’t on, and wets herself, is *that* an accident?
As I said, it’s a complicated concept. Yesterday I had an experience which added a wrinkle to this investigation. I was with a number of people, including my wife, on a ski outing. It was at a ski slope not far from our house, so didn’t involve a hotel stay or anything like that. Naturally, we were dressed for cold weather. I was wearing a bib-overall type ski suit, under which I wore blue cotton boxer-briefs and long johns. The ski bib was water resistant and black. I have peed in it before and knew that it didn’t show that I had wet. I didn’t really set out to pee my pants that day, but in mid afternoon, about an hour and a half after our lunch break, I was asked to accompany one of our party, a very pretty woman in her early thirties (we’ll call her Matilda -- Tildy), back to the lodge at the bottom of the slopes because she wasn’t feeling well. She’d called her husband to come pick her up but I was going to wait at the parking lot with her until his arrival. As we were making our way down the mountain, it occurred to me that I’d be alone and might have the opportunity to wet myself just a little bit -- just enough to feel it and sit in it the rest of the day, not so much that I’d get cold or that anyone would know.
Well, once the idea had occurred to me, I couldn’t help but carry it out. As it turned out, her husband got lost on the way to the slope and so we had to wait about 45 minutes in the parking area. By that time, my need to go had increased, and, impatient to proceed with my plan, I stepped aside to the other side of a car from Tildy, and stood still, and let a long spurt of urine out. It probably took 7 seconds or so, the first 4 of which were waiting for my stream to start and the last 3 where I was actually peeing. I could feel a little wetness but I didn’t have a good idea of how wet I was. Surreptitiously, I lifted my jacket to look at my crotch to see if my wetness was visible, but I couldn’t tell (at least it wasn’t obvious, I told myself). I went back and continued talking with Tildy as we waited -- a pleasure in itself as she is a very sexy brunette.
Finally her husband arrived and apologized profusely for the delay, and thanked me profusely for staying with Tildy, and they left me alone. I slowly made my way back to the lodge across the parking lot. I stopped at one point to let another spurt out. Once I was on the lift (it’s a smallish resort so the first lift up is a two seater, and I had a seat to myself), I reached inside my bib to try to feel how wet I was. Pretty wet in there! I rearrange my dick to aim toward the other side (gotta be symmetrical) and let loose another stream. This one lasted a little longer, maybe six seconds of actual peeing), and I decided maybe that was enough. When I got off the lift at the midway stop, I skied over to the restaurant there and went into a bathroom stall to check the damage. The front panel of my boxer briefs were completely wet from the bottom to the top. I could see wetness on the long johns about ¾ of the way down the front of my thighs. The wetness had wicked up, and my lycra t-shirt was damp along its bottom seam. I stood up, pulled up my underwear, long johns and bib -overall, peed another long spurt (8 seconds?) in them for good measure, stepped out of the stall to a urinal, took out my dick and emptied my bladder, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to go overboard.
For the next couple of hours, after I’d found my group again, we skied and I enjoyed the wet feeling around my crotch. I didn’t pee in my pants anymore, but made regular stops at the restroom to relieve myself. When it was time to call it a day, we skied down to the lodge. My first stop was the restroom, where I peed into a urinal again. My underclothes were still very wet, but all signs pointed to my completely getting away with my little experiment. The only thing I was going to need to do was to somehow secret my wet clothes to the laundry room when we got home. Returning our rental equipment, getting to the cars, waiting in traffic and the 20 minute drive to our house took another hour. I formulated a plan wherein I would pee one last time in my pants before washing my clothes. I would completely pee out, not holding anything back. I didn’t think I had much urine in my bladder so it wouldn’t make a mess. So when we walked in the door, and my wife said she wanted to go take a shower to warm up, I went to the basement (after I heard her shower running and knew for sure that I wouldn’t be interrupted) and stood on the carpet outside the laundry room in my stocking feet and relaxed.
I sort of felt like I needed to go again. This was surprising, because I hadn’t drunk any liquids for hours and it had only been a little more than an hour since I’d peed back at the resort. It was a strange feeling. I waited and waited and tensed my abdominals, and relaxed them, and a long but very miniscule stream started and then ended. And then as a waited, another small stream, and then, suddenly I was peeing full force and a very long time -- 20 seconds? And it ran down my legs and, to my dismay, ran out the bottoms of my bibs making a sizeable puddle on the carpet! I couldn’t stop; I succeeded in stopping for a moment but then involuntarily started again. Once I realized that the puddle was there, I just let myself finish.
So this was another kind of accident -- one where you try to pee your pants just a little on purpose but end up peeing them a lot, and wetting something you didn’t intend to. I peeled my wet things off and threw them in the washing machine. My wife asked me later about the pee stain on the carpet. I blamed it on the dog.
-- AT
This is not to say that I have arrived at any consistent or satisfying answer to these questions. (And this is not my only interest – in my own practices (always in private), I frequently go in my pants quite intentionally.) I’m not sure I can even define an accident. It involves loss of control. It includes at least the possibility of discovery, of being witnessed. It involves a degree of purposelessness -- by this standard, setting out to have an accident is impossible; an oxymoron -- if you wanted it to happen, it ain’t an accident. But wait -- what about the situation where someone is struggling to desperately hold it (in a stuck elevator, for instance), and finally gives up because they realize that the pain of holding it just isn’t worth it and decides that wetting her pants wouldn’t be the end of the world? So, in essence she “wanted” to end the discomfort and is reconciled to the consequences?.
Aside from the physical, literal, loss of control, an accident has the component of a situation developing where something happens that wasn’t anticipated. So getting drunk and passing out and peeing your pants is a consequence of getting drunk -- it could have been avoided if you didn't get drunk. Or failing to take advantage of a freeway rest stop, for example, on a school field trip, and subsequently wetting yourself on the bus, could have been avoided too. By this standard, an accident is never really an accident, but of course we know that conclusion is absurd.
Then there are the "accidents" that little kids experience, where they momentarily forget their toilet training and continue playing after they've wet themselves. (I am referring to kids who have already been toilet trained -- I don’t count the diapered wettings that babies make as “accidents” at all; they are elimination of waste that happens to be caught by a barrier). Whether or not they are somewhat purposeful, we conventionally refer to them as accidents, on the assumption that cognitively, the child either didn’t expect that peeing with his clothes on would wet his clothes, or that anyone should really care very much whether they are wearing pants that are wet with pee. But here is a question: what if an adult genuinely doesn’t care either. Does that make her deliberate pants wetting “accidental” by the same token? Somehow, in my opinion, it doesn’t. But if one is habituated to wetting an adult diaper whereever and whenever she wants, and then goes out one day without the diaper, and forgets that it isn’t on, and wets herself, is *that* an accident?
As I said, it’s a complicated concept. Yesterday I had an experience which added a wrinkle to this investigation. I was with a number of people, including my wife, on a ski outing. It was at a ski slope not far from our house, so didn’t involve a hotel stay or anything like that. Naturally, we were dressed for cold weather. I was wearing a bib-overall type ski suit, under which I wore blue cotton boxer-briefs and long johns. The ski bib was water resistant and black. I have peed in it before and knew that it didn’t show that I had wet. I didn’t really set out to pee my pants that day, but in mid afternoon, about an hour and a half after our lunch break, I was asked to accompany one of our party, a very pretty woman in her early thirties (we’ll call her Matilda -- Tildy), back to the lodge at the bottom of the slopes because she wasn’t feeling well. She’d called her husband to come pick her up but I was going to wait at the parking lot with her until his arrival. As we were making our way down the mountain, it occurred to me that I’d be alone and might have the opportunity to wet myself just a little bit -- just enough to feel it and sit in it the rest of the day, not so much that I’d get cold or that anyone would know.
Well, once the idea had occurred to me, I couldn’t help but carry it out. As it turned out, her husband got lost on the way to the slope and so we had to wait about 45 minutes in the parking area. By that time, my need to go had increased, and, impatient to proceed with my plan, I stepped aside to the other side of a car from Tildy, and stood still, and let a long spurt of urine out. It probably took 7 seconds or so, the first 4 of which were waiting for my stream to start and the last 3 where I was actually peeing. I could feel a little wetness but I didn’t have a good idea of how wet I was. Surreptitiously, I lifted my jacket to look at my crotch to see if my wetness was visible, but I couldn’t tell (at least it wasn’t obvious, I told myself). I went back and continued talking with Tildy as we waited -- a pleasure in itself as she is a very sexy brunette.
Finally her husband arrived and apologized profusely for the delay, and thanked me profusely for staying with Tildy, and they left me alone. I slowly made my way back to the lodge across the parking lot. I stopped at one point to let another spurt out. Once I was on the lift (it’s a smallish resort so the first lift up is a two seater, and I had a seat to myself), I reached inside my bib to try to feel how wet I was. Pretty wet in there! I rearrange my dick to aim toward the other side (gotta be symmetrical) and let loose another stream. This one lasted a little longer, maybe six seconds of actual peeing), and I decided maybe that was enough. When I got off the lift at the midway stop, I skied over to the restaurant there and went into a bathroom stall to check the damage. The front panel of my boxer briefs were completely wet from the bottom to the top. I could see wetness on the long johns about ¾ of the way down the front of my thighs. The wetness had wicked up, and my lycra t-shirt was damp along its bottom seam. I stood up, pulled up my underwear, long johns and bib -overall, peed another long spurt (8 seconds?) in them for good measure, stepped out of the stall to a urinal, took out my dick and emptied my bladder, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to go overboard.
For the next couple of hours, after I’d found my group again, we skied and I enjoyed the wet feeling around my crotch. I didn’t pee in my pants anymore, but made regular stops at the restroom to relieve myself. When it was time to call it a day, we skied down to the lodge. My first stop was the restroom, where I peed into a urinal again. My underclothes were still very wet, but all signs pointed to my completely getting away with my little experiment. The only thing I was going to need to do was to somehow secret my wet clothes to the laundry room when we got home. Returning our rental equipment, getting to the cars, waiting in traffic and the 20 minute drive to our house took another hour. I formulated a plan wherein I would pee one last time in my pants before washing my clothes. I would completely pee out, not holding anything back. I didn’t think I had much urine in my bladder so it wouldn’t make a mess. So when we walked in the door, and my wife said she wanted to go take a shower to warm up, I went to the basement (after I heard her shower running and knew for sure that I wouldn’t be interrupted) and stood on the carpet outside the laundry room in my stocking feet and relaxed.
I sort of felt like I needed to go again. This was surprising, because I hadn’t drunk any liquids for hours and it had only been a little more than an hour since I’d peed back at the resort. It was a strange feeling. I waited and waited and tensed my abdominals, and relaxed them, and a long but very miniscule stream started and then ended. And then as a waited, another small stream, and then, suddenly I was peeing full force and a very long time -- 20 seconds? And it ran down my legs and, to my dismay, ran out the bottoms of my bibs making a sizeable puddle on the carpet! I couldn’t stop; I succeeded in stopping for a moment but then involuntarily started again. Once I realized that the puddle was there, I just let myself finish.
So this was another kind of accident -- one where you try to pee your pants just a little on purpose but end up peeing them a lot, and wetting something you didn’t intend to. I peeled my wet things off and threw them in the washing machine. My wife asked me later about the pee stain on the carpet. I blamed it on the dog.
-- AT
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