Lads Pissing

As Norman replaced his ‘trophy’ items back in their relevant drawers, he looked again at the police uniform trousers, underpants, shoes and socks. That had been an unexpected story and the fact he still had the clothing was a real bonus, considering the incident had happened a few years ago.

Norman hadn’t been in his caretaking post too long at the time and initially it was only the lower two floors that were occupied by businesses. The second floor was empty and above it, the entire floor was one huge space without any other facilities. A decision had been made to let outside organisations use it for whatever purpose, and the first arrangement was for a top level high security event for police in the south-east region.

It was to be attended by several Commissioners and Area Commanders representing the ‘top brass’, whilst a senior government minister was also to be in attendance. Much lower ranked and younger officers from all the south-east constabularies were to be invited, as proposals for improved aspects of digital policing work were to be unveiled right across the policing community.

Norman had been asked to attend the initial briefing where the following arrangements were made clear … there would be around 30 attendees, the name of the government minister was not to be revealed until the event, there would be a high security presence around and inside the building and all attendees were to be taken directly to the top floor on arrival. Refreshments would be served at the back of the room and once inside for the two-hour long presentation, nobody would be permitted to leave the floor unless accompanied in an emergency.

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The day arrived and Norman looked an felt uncomfortable in a suit. He was in the conference room which had been set up with the senior lead officer at the top table, with spaces for government officials. The other senior officers were to be sat along the side and the 20 others (new’ish constables and sergeants) were to be sat in a classroom-style layout, each with a small desk in front of them so they could make notes.

The senior officers were to be served teas and coffees separately at the front of the room, whilst the others would be served from the back of the room by Norman, who was to remain present. It transpired that they were all police officers in their first five years of service and they had been hand selected.

Norman was looking forward to the event. There was an outside chance that during the two to two-and-a-half hour session, one of the officers would need to leave the room and if they needed to use the toilet, it would be Norman who would have to accompany them there and back. There was a toilet on the floor below but might it be better to take them right to the bottom floor? In the lift or by stairs? There were several ‘interesting’ options, should the need arise!!

However, two hours was surely within young men’s capabilities so maybe they’d need a helping hand if his assistance was to be called on. He put his hand into his jacket pocket and slowly twirled a tiny bottle containing a couple of dissolvable water pills. The label read ‘diuretic pills typically start to work within one hour, promoting increased urination, often associated with urgency’.

Which of the officers selected the cup of tea doctored with the diuretic was purely random, but Norman’s challenge to himself, as he remained discreetly at the back of the room, was to see if he could identify which policeman was feeling the effects before any requests were made!

(to be continued)

This scenario is absolutely brilliant. Complete security theatre with all the top brass, no-one allowed to leave for two hours except in dire emergency, and a scheming caretaker given responsibilities he's going to misuse! Interesting twist that Norman won't know which of the police officers his victim will be until he sees the signs. I can't wait for to read what happened next.

This is such a great set up for an unfortunate and all too public scene of desperation especially with the inciter have a direct reason to make obtaining relief as difficult as possible. It reminds me of a scene from James Hynes Lecture's Tale which might as well come from an actual omo themed story where in act of academic sabotage the main character sees to it that an academic rival pisses himself during a lecture so he doesn't get hired. No diuretics are involved but the man in question is a heavy drinker and he's kept from pissing.

Here's a few quick excerpt "At every event Branwell spoke brilliantly, walked steadily, and drank prolifically. At every break in the schedule he made a beeline for the nearest men’s room, where he would stand at the urinal blowing out sighs like a draft horse and pee for three minutes straight. Nelson knew, because he followed Branwell every time" When he's gotten very desperate "Branwell’s accent became thicker as he became excited; he spoke with a half-civilized ferocity, his eyes full of black fire. Still, the relentless pressure of his bladder made him dance on the stage; he rocked heel to toe, clenching and unclenching his fists." Finally when his bladder bursts "With an almost orgasmic groan, Branwell shuddered upright, and a dark stain spread copiously from his groin and down the length of his tweed trousers. His whole body swayed, and he rocked back on his heels, his face tipped back toward the ceiling, his mouth hanging slack. The crowd rocked back away from him in a wave that spread from the stage; it sharply drew in its collective breath. In a moment the room was silent except for the creak of seats, the rustle of bodies, and, if you listened closely enough, a heavy trickling as his epic micturation spread below Branwell’s knee, filled his trouser cuff, and pattered over his shoe to the stage."

"

Continued...

Once underway, the formality of the event surprised Norman and he actually felt uncomfortable at the back of the room, conscious that any movement would be apparent. He had no idea which of the officers had selected the cup with the diuretic addition, and he could only see the backs of the twenty desk-seated officers. They were all fairly young guys, probably aged somewhere between around 22 and 30 years, but all he could see were the backs of their heads and their shoulders, and for those nearer the back, he could see their feet beneath their chairs.

The presentation by the Area Commanders was a lengthy affair, setting the scene for the arrival of the government minister, and Norman began to wonder if they were planning a short break when the minister made his entrance. He hadn’t spotted any obvious signs of discomfort from the officers, but they were approaching the one-hour mark since the start, and he intensified his watch.

Although the vast majority of policeman were sitting motionless, Norman had noticed that the officer sitting near the centre of the row one from the back, had shifted the position of his feet on a number of occasions and he was now gently tapping the heel of his right shoe on the carpet. That movement continued for a good 30 seconds before the officer crossed his ankles and began to grind them together in a back and forth motion.

‘One hour in’ mused Norman, ‘added to the cup of tea, I reckon that’s him’.

The presentation continued for another 10 minutes, during which Norman could hardly avert his eyes from the same officer’s feet. During that time, he had uncrossed and crossed his ankles several times, and had also taken to swirling his right foot in a circular movement whilst at the same time tapping his left foot against his right shoe. He had also spent a good few seconds with both feet side by side and sliding the fronts of his shoes against each other, whilst a few times he had shifted his position uncomfortably on the chair.

Suddenly, as the presentation appeared to be coming to a close, the door opened, and in walked a couple of police officers either side of who was presumably the government minister. He walked over to the front of the room and began to shake hands with the senior people.

Norman glanced back at the seated officer he had been watching. The foot movements had stopped and the officer had turned his head to look at the door. It was obvious that he was trying to catch the eye of one of the accompanying policemen, who was standing in the doorway. As the minister sat down, with a cup of tea placed on the table in front of him, and his fellow officials also began to settle down, Norman saw the young officer make a sudden movement as if to stand up, hopefully anticipating a short break and an opportunity to take an urgent comfort break of his own. But almost simultaneously, the lead presenter thanked the minister for attending, announced that the minister’s time was precious, and that he would commence his presentation immediately. They would go back to cover the outstanding issues in his own police presentation at the end of the session.

And with that, the minister rose to his feet.

There was briefly a slight shuffling of bodies and legs in the attentive audience, as the officers re-comforted themselves for what was likely to be another lengthy period of focus.

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In his seat, PC Barney Adams, a 23-year-old mousy-haired constable from South London, was experiencing wave after wave of distress. How on earth did he need to go to the toilet so badly? He’d gone for a wee when he arrived and yet just one cup of tea had resulted in him being close to bursting point just an hour later! That had never happened to him before in his life. You needed a strong bladder as a police officer and he always prided himself on the fact that he never got himself into awkward toilet predicaments whilst on duty. He’d seen colleagues rush into the station loos at the end of shifts, expressing how desperate they’d been, but he’d never had to resort to such action.

Barney, who had got married last year, had been a police constable for almost three years now after a spell working in an IT environment, so his nomination for this event had been an obvious one. He’d enjoyed the opening session at first – until he could feel his bladder filling at a remarkable rate.

‘This is ridiculous’ he’d told himself, ‘I just don’t get why I’ve got to go so urgently so suddenly, and it’s just getting worse and worse as I’m sitting here. If it carries on like this, I’ll never last out until the minister’s presentation is over. How am I going to find a way to get out to the toilet without interrupting the entire session?’

Norman had taken the opportunity created by the minister’s arrival to move himself slightly to his left so that he could now see not only PC Adams’ feet but also his knees. He knew for sure that he had identified the correct lad because he could now see the officer’s knees knocking together and occasionally being rubbed against each other in fairly rapid fashion. Beneath the desk, his feet were tightly crossed at the ankles with one foot on top of the other and his left shoe jigging up and down.

‘I wonder how he’s going to ask to go out?’ Norman asked himself, mentally preparing for the scenario in which he would have to accompany a clearly bursting young officer to one of the toilets.

During the next 20 minutes, during which Norman began to feel slightly uneasy that his plan had clearly gone somewhat awry, PC Barney Adams was experiencing both panic and distress. He had probably missed his chance to go out as he should have taken the plunge and done so right at the start, when it was fairly obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to last out. Instead, the minister’s presentation was at its most important and critical stage and there was no way he could stand up and sabotage such a prestigious event. He had to somehow hold on until the end, but he had no idea how far away that was.

Norman was unsure as to whether any of the other officers had also noticed their colleague’s frantic leg movements or had realised his predicament. As Norman looked down, he saw PC Adams’ use the back of his right shoe to ease his left foot out of his shoe and with his discarded shoe on its side, he began to grind his socked foot into the carpet, as if stubbing out a cigarette. There was no logical reason to think it would ease his discomfort, but maybe it was just something different in a forlorn attempt to maintain his control – and ultimately his dignity.

If no-one had noticed anything before, the strange removal of his shoe had caught the attention of the officer sitting in the adjacent desk and as he glanced across in surprise, he instantly guessed the predicament that his colleague was in. PC Adams was biting his lower lip constantly and his back was rigid as he was shifting around, albeit hardly noticeably, on his seat.

Norman had also noticed the officer sit upright and then slump forwards slightly, before he made an attempt to cross his legs beneath his small desk. There was hardly room to do so, but although the resultant action of squeezing his thighs tightly together had provided instant relief, he was unable to retain that posture, and quickly allowed his leg to slip back into its previous position. He was frantically curling his toes on his socked foot, before wriggling his foot back into his still-laced shoe.

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PC Barney Adams’ ears were ringing and his eyes were watering, whilst he could feel cold beads of sweat trickling down his back. The intensity with which his need had grown was as frightening as it was inexplicable. Within just a short time he had gone from bursting to go, to struggling to contain himself, to literally being on the verge of wetting his pants. The stomach pain was excruciating and he felt as if someone was tugging on his trouser-belt, tightening it more and more …

The officers sitting to the sides and behind Barney were watching agog, realising that their colleague was struggling to control himself, and looking at his feet almost fearfully as to what they might see …

At the front the minister was totally focused on his presentation, as were most of the senior officers, but one of the Chief Constables was aware of some slight consternation near the back of the room and he was wondering what seemed to be distracting some of the audience …

At the back of the room, Norman gave a little gasp as he took a sharp breath, focusing totally on PC Adams’ feet and watching several tiny droplets fall from the back of the cuff of his police trousers …

The little driblets continued to drip from various points around the bottom of his trouser leg before becoming stronger and running all down the side of his black sock. Within no more than four or five seconds, there was a constant trickle streaming down the side of his shoe and gathering on the floor, as small dribbles began to fall from the entire circumference of his trouser cuff, running from the top of his shoe and forming a dark stain on the green carpet as a small puddle accumulated. PC Adams’ feet remained totally still as his shoes and socks absorbed what was clearly a significant flow of urine all down his right leg and spreading around the back and front of his ankle.

The officer sitting in the back row had lost interest in the minister’s words and his stare was fixated on the feet of the officer sitting in front of him, whilst the two policemen sitting to the left, alongside and behind PC Adams were also looking down rather than up at the top table.

Norman was watching intently as the urine dribbling over the officer’s right shoe was suddenly accompanied by a tiny trickle running from underneath his left shoe and the two resultant little wet patches were silently merging into one small but glistening stain between his two feet.

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Barney was straining every muscle and every sinew in his body in a desperate attempt to regain control of himself. He knew that he had urinated a considerable amount and he was aware that his underpants were very wet, although in his numbed panic he had only felt a hot trickle down his shin.

Suddenly, the officer who was sitting immediately in front of PC Adams was aware of a muffled groan, hardly loud enough to disturb the presentation, but audible enough to make him turn his head and although he could not look behind him for more than a split second, he was conscious that whoever was behind him was making the noise.

The obvious distraction caused the Chief Constable to lean forwards, and as the minister noticed his movement and briefly stopped speaking, the Chief Constable stood up, nodded at the minister to continue speaking, and slowly took several discreet steps towards the back of the room. As he approached the scene of the disturbance, he looked at the officer on the end of the row and frowned without speaking, looking for some sort of indication as to what had happened.

The officer looked up at the Chief Constable and silently mouthed the words, “He’s wetting himself!”

Stunned by the revelation, the Chief Constable took another step and looked down just in time to see PC Adams suddenly push his feet back underneath his chair … leaving a small dark stain of freshly-created wetness on the carpet.

He looked up at the officer’s wide-eyed and dazed expression, at the same time as PC Adams leaned forwards in his chair an another desperate attempt to prevent himself urinating again.

Unable to do anything else at that stage, the Chief Constable just nodded confidently towards the minister again, prompting him to continue, whilst beckoning PC Adams to stand up, and whispering to the other officers in the audience to ‘concentrate please’.

At the same time, he signalled for Norman to come forward and simply said, “go with him”, stepping back to allow the access to the doorway. Norman moved across and opened the door, standing aside as he motioned to the officer to go past him and out and PC Adams clumsily stumbled past, unable to stand upright and with his face wracked with pain.

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The two officers who had accompanied the minister into the room were now standing casually in the corridor outside, and they both looked aghast as the young constable hobbled through the door. The standing up movement had made him start to urinate again, sending a hot surge all through his underpants and down his thigh, and this time he clutched himself through his trousers, pressing his legs tightly together and muttering, “I can’t stop going! I’m doing it in my pants!”

Neither of the other two officers could believe what they were witnessing, but Norman ensured that they knew exactly what was happening, if they hadn’t already realised it!

“He’s wetting himself, in his underpants” announced Norman in a monotone and expressionless voice.

“Bloody Hell! Get him to a toilet!” snapped one of the officers.

Norman stepped a few paces away, “Come on my boy, this way – we’ll get the lift!”

But PC Adams managed only about half a dozen steps, still holding himself, before he stopped still and literally crossed one leg over the other.
“I can’t make it!” he stammered, “I’m already going in my trousers!”

He moved his arm out as if to hold onto an imaginary wall, prompting Norman to step across and take the officer’s arm to give him the support he was looking for, and with that, PC Adams uncrossed his legs, opened his feet slightly and gently bent his knees as he felt scorching warmth cascading all down both of his legs. The strength of the jet was such that almost instantly, a shiny film of wetness spread all across the top of his shoe before forming a puddle next to his foot, and he was aware of an intense warmth in the crotch of his underpants which quickly filtered all around his backside.

The battle was lost and it was final defeat in the war as Barney simply gave in to the inevitable, involuntarily relaxing his strained bladder muscles and he torrentially wet himself. The hot urine was spilling down the insides of both of his trouser-legs, and soaking warmly into his socks and shoes as well as frothing into a puddle all round his feet.

“Jesus, he’s pissed himself!” uttered one of the startled officers.

Barney had never needed to go to the toilet so badly in his life, and he could hardly stop going, as his uniform trousers couldn’t contain the flood and the pee was dripping right through his crotch and onto the floor, where the steaming puddle was rippling.

“Oh my God, what’s happening to me!” whimpered a distraught Barney.

Norman, as ever, replied in a calm and calculated tone, “You’ve wet yourself boy! You’ve gone and been in your trousers and pants!”

As the flow decreased and PC Adams was left standing mortified, with the puddle shimmering and glistening around his shoes, the door suddenly opened and the Chief Constable walked out.

“Fucking Hell, what on earth’s happened?”

“He’s pissed himself, sir” replied one of the officers.

The Chief Constable looked directly at Barney, “Didn’t you go to the toilet before you came in?”

He gave no time for any reply and just instructed Norman, “Get him away from here now, before the minister comes out“ before calming himself and adding, “do you think you could help him sort himself out? He doesn’t need to come back for the rest of the session, he can go home and we’ll sort things out with him later. We won’t be too much longer, and then you can clean up here. Sorry about this.”

A few minutes later, Norman held open the door of the gents toilet on the second floor and allowed the wet and dishevelled young policeman to go in front of him. He was still totally mortified, trembling in disbelief, and absolutely mystified about what had happened.

“I don’t understand it” he said quietly, “I have never had to go to the toilet like that in my whole life, and it came on so quickly that I couldn’t wait. I need to go again already, I don’t get it. It’s since I had that cup of tea.”

“Well it didn’t seem to affect your colleagues” replied Norman.

“I know, I don’t know what happened. I had to go like you wouldn’t believe. Even if I’d left the room, I’m not even sure I’d have made it to the toilet in time. I’ve never wet myself before, I just started going in my pants as I was wondering how to make a move to get out. This is so embarrassing, I’m never going to live it down in the job, and my missus is going to go mad too when I get home.”

“Talking of getting home, how are you going to travel my boy?” asked Norman.

“I’ve got my car outside, but I can’t sit in these wet things, everything’s soaking wet. I might have some gym stuff in the boot. I don’t want anyone to see me in this state, could you go and have a look for me?”

Norman took the key and went out into the car park. He opened the boot and found a pair of navy blue shorts and some white trainers, along with a towel. As he returned to the toilet, he opened the door to find PC Adams standing there in just his shirt and his socks. His uniform trousers and his pants were strewn on the floor, and he took the towel and began to rub himself dry before pulling on the shorts and then removing his socks before slipping on the trainers.

“You can leave your wet things here lad, call back sometime and I’ll have them ready and clean for you” invited the kindly caretaker Norman.

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A short while later, with PC Barney Adams having left for home, Norman looked carefully at the bonus items from the day. They were certainly not what he had expected a few hours ago! The police uniform trousers were of thick material, and heavy and saturated all down the legs and mostly around the crotch and seat area. Barney’s underpants were not what Norman had expected, as they were plain white y-fronts, but they were absolutely sodden, whilst his black ribbed cotton socks also felt drenched. Surprisingly, the officer had also left his shoes on the floor – a pair of well-worn plain black lace-up shoes, and Norman dropped them in the carrier bag along with the other items. He’d take them and wash them and you never know – he might never come back for them!

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Later that evening Barney was sitting on his home settee, with his wife Lyn in a nearby armchair.

“If you think I’m going to drive all the way there to go in to see some giggling girls and say ‘you know the policeman who wet himself, well he’s my husband and I’ve come to collect his wet trousers and pants’, you can think again. I’m not going to embarrass myself like that. If you want them back, you can go and get them!”

“No way, I’m not showing my face there again” mumbled Barney.

… and that’s how Norman came to keep them!!

I felt really sorry for Barney reading this. So awful for him to have caused such a rumpus during such important proceedings and to have totally disgraced himself like that. Great descriptions of him sitting in that seat near the back, doing strange things with his legs, trying to hold on.

One question comes to my mind. Was Norman only hoping to have the private pleasure of accompanying a desperate officer to the toilet, or did he anticipate the poor guy suffering such a humilation? We are told that Norman felt concerned that his plan was going awry after watching the officer's strange and ever more desperate movements for a while, wondering how he was going to get up and leave. Maybe this "conquest", an early one, shaped Norman's tastes for the later incidents?

Whether the incident shaped Norman's tastes or whether they had already been firmly embedded, I'm not sure. What I think though, is that Norman was not expecting to be fortunate enough (if that's the right terminology) to see a police officer wet himself. I guess he was anticipating getting a desperate officer to the toilet, with maybe a delay or two on the way.

The humiliation aspect (feeling sorry and embarrassed) is a difficult one and I know that's been expressed many times on here - often in response to my stories!!

But quite simply, if someone accidentally wets himself in public, it has to be embarrassing, bordering on humiliation. Nobody does it unintentionally and just laughs it off. Do they??

I would like to think that Norman only intended to witness extreme desperation and not the total humiliation of his victim, and that he would not resort to medical diuretics in the future. He's not a bad fellow; he just has a fetish, a kink, and we know what that's like.