One Shot - Breaking & Entering, & Wetting too (Patreon)

The pain in your bladder screamed as you tried so desperately to stay quiet. You knew you should’ve gone before, and now you were paying for it. Even though you didn’t really need it on the way here, since you and your partner in crime Jordan snuck into that back window the anxiety of breaking and entering elevated your desperation to 11. 

Slowly and carefully you walked around the main floor of the mansion, grabbing every expensive looking trinket you could find and gently placing it into your bag. Jordan did the same, only they didn’t look like they were trying to hold back a flood between their legs. It was becoming too much to bear, so you shuffled over to Jordan and whispered to them.

“We need to go...now”

“What? Why we’ve only gone through one room!” They responded in an angry whisper.

“Because...I need to go...now.”

Jordan looked at you confused, then noticed the hand jammed in between your legs and the slight up and down squirm you were doing.

“Oh my god, I told you to go before we left!”

“I know I know but-“

“WHO’S THERE!”

A voice from upstairs bellowed into the halls. You both clenched up in fear, except your bladder didn’t clench the way you wanted it. A small trickle started to escape into your jeans, allows a tiny trail of pee to travel down your legs. When you felt the wetness, you jerked down and held on hard, desperately trying to hold on. But with that abrupt move, they saw you. 

“I have a gun! I’m not afraid to kill any intruders!” The man was traveling down the stairs now with thunderous footsteps. Jordan looked at you to say “run”, and then was off like a bullet. 

You remained frozen in shock, not just because of the possibility of being caught or killed, but also the fact that your partner just abandoned you and you were about to completely soak your pants.

Jordan sped passed the man and put the door. You backed up slowly to try to hide, but knocked a vase in the process.

It didn’t shatter, it didn’t fall, but the noise of you fumbling about with it was enough to tip off the man to the fact that Jordan wasn’t alone, and to the exact room you were in.

His footsteps grew louder and louder, and you quickly jumped behind the couch to hide. The man got to the room and slowed his pace. You could hear the metallic noises of a gun being held, and creaks in the floor due to his massive size.

You hugged your legs, trembling and trying not to cry. This could be your death you thought, but maybe he won’t find you. 

HissssssssDripdripdripdrip

Your heart stopped and the blood left your head. Your ears rang and blocked out all sound but that hissing and the dripping. You looked down to your crotch to see your piss flooding out your jeans, leaving a puddle that was traveling out from behind the couch into sight of the man.

Your head was hot and your jeans were hotter, soaked with a flood or warm piss that just could no longer be held. You didn’t even feel it go, just saw the puddle and felt the warmth. 

“What the hell is that?” The man said, and walked over to the growing stream of liquid. He still couldn’t see you, but you covered you head and sat in a feudal position, dipping your butt into the puddle you left.

It felt like forever before he saw you. But when he did, you burst out into tears of shame.

“There you are, you’ve gone and pissed yourself all over me bloody floor! And you’re thieving, what a pathetic lot. On your feet.” 

You looked up and saw a mountain of a man holding a rifle in front of you, then still trembling, got to your feet. He towered over you like you were some child to a grown up, which was fitting considering the circumstances. 

“Now. Have you taken anything out the house yet?”

You shook your head no. 

“And you’re going to tell me the name of your friend and where to find the stuff they stole huh?”

You nodded yes. “Their name is Jordan Bellows, 131 Beach ave”

“Good. Now wait here while I come bring you something.”

He stormed off and you stood still. You didn’t even think about running off, and you believed he knew that. You just stood perfectly still in your puddle of piss, your jeans starting to cool and become clammy to your skin. Then he came stomping back in with something in his hand. 

“Here, these are my teenage daughters. They look like they’ll fit you” he said and outstretched the item to you. You looked up to inspect it, and recognized the flowering patterns on the front. 

“A goodnite? You’re giving me a diaper?”

“Well you clearly need it. Now drop your pants and put this on.”

“No! You’re a creep I-“

He positioned his rifle back to point at you.

“I’m not a creep, and you’re in no position to be denying me anyways. Now take them off and give em here.”

You hesitated, thought it over quickly, then stubbornly pulled at your jeans. The piss made them sticky and difficult to remove, and the puddle splashed up every time you lost your footing while fumbling with stripping. 

Finally you got them off and stood in front of him in only your underwear. 

“Those too.”

“What! A-“

He cocked the rifle. You dribbled out another bit of pee and then removed your underwear. When you were completely bottomless, he handed you the goodnite. You looked at it, squeezed it, recognized it’s familiar feel from when you were a bedwetting at much too old an age. This time, you didn’t argue. You just slid it on be let the padding hug your hips and crotch. Then you waited for your pants back.

“Oh no, I’m keeping these.”

“What! I can’t walk home like this!”

“Would you rather me take you to the station then?”

You hung your head. He had you. There was nothing you could do or say that could help you here, he was kind enough to let you walk and live, this is a small piece to pay for that. 

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

You turned and ran for the door, the air cool against your still damp legs. Jordan had left you of course, the car was gone and you were stuck doing a 45 minute walk in a diaper. 

You thought if you could keep it dry on the way home, maybe you’d wear it to your next hit...