#potty failing

[belovedrival]

Ugh, today has been a Jonah day, as Anne Shirley would say. Jonas pooped his pants - we’re on month 3 of him consistently NOT pooping on the potty, even though he did it several times at his Nana’s house - and then to add insult to injury, peed his pants instead of walking 10 feet into the bathroom and going. He almost never does that, except at school, which is an ongoing issue. I’m afraid one day they’ll tell us to just take him out of school until he stops having accidents.

When I finally got him to go in his room for quiet time this afternoon, he only made a racket while he was trying to work. (His bedroom is right above ours, which is where my desk is.) When I went up to get him to settle him down, 1) I discovered Minerva in there and 2) he’d gotten the side window unlocked and he was throwing stuffed animals, toys, and a book outside. From the 2nd floor into the side yard. He hasn’t done that in MONTHS.

I just feel like crying.

[jenjendl]

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Purple potty alternate universe with evil George and Harold because I recently remembered it existed <3

Notes on evil Harold:

For those who don't know, in the PPU, George and Harold switch roles as writer & artist. And since Harold is mean in this universe, he can and will verbally annihilate you and the next five generation of descendants in your bloodline completely unprompted. And he'll do it eloquently, which is worse.

He has the attitude of all three Mean Girls mashed into one gangly body of a man.

His parents never got divorced. For the better or for the worst, take that as you will.

[kangals]

I joke about it but it is actually super frustrating for me how in the last few weeks Keps taken such a hard backslide re: housetraining/marking inside. Went from being able to free roam to blocking off certain rooms to now wearing a belly band most of the day bc he can’t be trusted. Bc it started so suddenly I’m assuming it’s just an Intact Teenage Boy phase but I’m really trying to be careful and make sure it doesn’t become a habit. I guess I’m thinking maybe keep him in the belly band for a few more weeks just to see if that’s enough for him to move on (he doesn’t try to mark at all while wearing it so it’s definitely not a “I simply cannot hold it” problem it’s def behavioral). And then if that’s still not fixed it we’ll just have to go back to his baby potty training schedule of going out every 30 minutes and gated to whatever room I’m in. And then if that doesn’t work well either have to talk about neutering early (trying to wait until 2yrs but I can’t be living in a piss house) or bringing in aversive methods, both of which I’d like to avoid.

if you went through a similar thing with your dog, lmk what worked for you?

[baileys-writing-desk]

Wild’s paraglider

Hyrule finally gets to do what he wanted for so long: to glide through the air like a bird.

AO3

Hyrule has never had this much fun in his life.

It is something he’d always wanted to try, since joining the chain, and something none of the other Links would ever let him do.

Only Lanayru would let him.

And the group is here. In Sky’s era. With Lanayru.

He thinks of the mischievous grin on the dragon’s face as he departs from camp, the Champion’s glider in hand. Although he may have gotten permission to borrow the item, he never specified exactly what he would use it for. There are cliffs in this area, sure, but not much higher than ten feet. Wild trusted him to use it for those heights only.

Creeping through the trees like a cat, he notices the yellow and brown in the distance and chuckles. This was his idea, he reminds himself, but Lanayru had approved of it last night. If anyone else finds out, he can blame the dragon.

The sun is high in the sky now, the brilliant blue filtering through the towering tree branches. Birds chirp in the distance, and small animals rustle in the bushes, nearly distracting Rulie as he resists the urge to stop and investigate. But the other Links might come to him…there is no time to dawdle. He is reminded of that as he finally reaches the Thunder Dragon’s clearing, walking up to a mischievous smile and outstretched claw.

“Ho- Rulie, you got it?” Lanayru asks, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “Here, climb onto my hand.”

Running up to the dragon, and readying the glider on his back, Hyrule obeys. The adrenaline courses through him, heart racing in his chest at his upcoming feat. I can’t believe he’s willing to do this!

“What if it doesn’t work?” he asks suddenly, having not quite thought about it before…

“Then I’ll catch you. I’m not letting you fall a bajillion feet through the air, you silly!”

Oh, right. He might not have considered that, but of course Lanayru did. Surely, the dragon has let him do risky things, but not that risky.

Hyrule takes a deep breath, attempting to calm his excitement, as Lanayru slowly lifts his hand, bringing him all the way up to meet the dragon’s eye level. He then lies down, face-up on the palm so Lanayru can wrap his fingers around his body in a tight grip.

I’m doing it! Hylia, it’s really happening! I’m gonna fly!!

He’s been this high before, in fact much higher, but he doesn’t dare look down. This, after all, isn’t a cuddle session in Lanayru’s beard or a ride on his back. This is much different.

“Alright, you ready?” the Thunder Dragon asks.

“Yep!”

Lanayru chuckles, and a whoosh of air meets Hyrule as the dragon gears his arm back, ready to throw the traveler across the sky, and soon he will be-

“WHAT THE FUCK, LANAYRU?!?”

Oh shit!

Hyrule gasps. Lanayru follows suit, nearly jumping in surprise, but thankfully still manages to keep his grip on the traveler. Who the hell was tha-

“Ah, Link! Wasn’t expectin’ you here!”

Sky.

“What the fuck are you two doing!?” the Skyloftian shouts, loud enough for Hyrule to hear clearly from this height. “Lanayru, put him down-“

The Thunder Dragon lowers his hand slightly, nearly making the traveler’s head spin. “I promise, this is harmless. Just watch.”

“Uh-huh, yeah- like I’m gonna be fine with you chucking Rulie through the air like- one of Groose’s eggs to my face!”

That was…a weird comparison.

“I’m fine, Sky!” Hyrule yells. “Trust me!”

“Lanayru. I swear to Hylia if you-“

The Thunder Dragon simply cackles. Turning his head away from Sky, he rears his arm back once again, Hyrule in his grip.

“LANAYRU—“

Ah, yes, it seems like he’ll still get to fly after all!

“No, don’t, Lan-“ That is all Hyrule makes out, as he is suddenly hurled forward, out of the dragon’s grip and sailing through the sky. He screams with delight as the wind rushes into his ears, blowing his hair every which way.

This is AWESOME!!!!

Of course, this moment is short-lasted, as he quickly begins his hurtling descent. In one swift motion, he opens the glider above his head, holding onto the straps tightly with both hands. He stalls midair, the speed of his fall having dramatically decreased.

“It worked!!” he shrieks, giggling. “Look, I’m doing it! HAHA!!”

The view of the forest below, of the green pointy trees and luscious grass stretching out for ages, almost takes his breath away. He may have seen it all while riding Lanayru, but nothing will ever match this feeling, of floating through the breeze on his own as if he has wings. Letting the glider slowly carry him towards the ground safely. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would experience this unique sensation.

…And judging by how Sky reacted, this will likely be the only time.

“Great job, Rulie!” he hears Lanayru’s voice call out from behind. “See, Link, I told you it would be alright!”

Whatever the Skyloftian says in response, Hyrule doesn’t hear. He has drifted far into the forest now, approaching the tops of the trees…and now he must focus his landing so he doesn’t faceplant right into one. Carefully he tilts the glider strings just slightly, barely missing the top branches of a large oak. Lanayru would not be pleased if he crashed, and most certainly not Sky.

At last, he slows to a stop and his feet touch the ground. Closing the glider up, he makes a mad dash back to Lanayru. The yellow of the dragon’s robe flashes in the distance. Holy shit, I flew far!

“Over here, thunder man!” he shouts, nearly out of breath. “Look, I made it! I totally stuck the landing—phew!” His cheeks become hot and sweaty as he steps back into the clearing. Lanayru is beaming with delight, but Sky…Sky still does not look content. Whatever the dragon said to him earlier apparently hadn’t mattered.

“Okay, whose idea was this?” The Skyloftian glares at the two, arms folded across his chest.

Unwilling to admit it was his own, Hyrule immediately points at Lanayru. Of course, the dragon does the same to him…We must look so stupid right now-

“Rulie, don’t lie like that,” Lanayru teases. “Take the blame.”

Hyrule simply scoffs, lowering his hand. “Liar liar, pants on fire!”

“Sweet Hylia, am I gonna have to separate you two?!” Sky exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It’s like I’m dealing with five-year-olds!”

“Oh, come on, boy!” The Thunder Dragon chuckles. “We were just gettin’ the fun started. I was gonna have him try it from up in the clouds next!” He pauses at the horrified look on Sky’s face. “Ah, don’t worry, I’ll bring Eldin to catch him if something goes wrong.”

Wait what-

He isn’t quite sure if that’s something he would like to try…Lanayru’s ambition is strong, but the traveler has his limits.

“Lanayru!” Sky shouts the dragon’s name for what seems like the fiftieth time today. “I swear to the Golden Three, if you do that—“

“Okay, okay, I won’t! You caught me, Link.”

Phew.

“Well, good.” The Skyloftian sighs, appearing a bit more content. “Man, you two are just- I love you both to bits, but ugh!!” He giggles slightly, and Hyrule figures he isn’t truly mad at them. And separating the dragon and hero, when their time together is extremely limited, would be incredibly mean and unlike Sky at all.

“That’s our goal!” Hyrule exclaims. “Right, thunder man?”

He hears the dragon’s booming laughter in response. They only mean to annoy Sky lightheartedly; it’s what siblings do. At least it must be, or else the chain wouldn’t be teasing each other on the daily.

Sky approaches him, hands outstretched. “Here, I’ll give this back to the Champion.”

Oh, right. The glider.

He slowly hands it over, wondering what else he could have done if Sky hadn’t caught them. Definitely not Lanayru’s idea, though…I’ll bring Eldin to catch him? He hasn’t even met Eldin, let alone ridden him!

“I should probably head to camp…” Sky briefly glances behind him at the openings through the dense forest. “But you better not do more crazy stuff while I’m gone.”

“Can’t guarantee that, boy,” Lanayru replies, earning a teasing stare from the Skyloftian.

As Sky begins to turn away, Hyrule glances up at the Thunder Dragon, and they both give each other a cheeky smile.

It had gone reasonably well.

[sportsandlaughs]

[skullsandwhiteroses]

Okay so I’m a little behind on Children of Éarte but I stg Deb said something about them potty training now and having stickers as incentives??? I promise I’m being totally normal about this but I can’t find anything confirming or denying that she’s a mom now. My first thought was that they had a new puppy, but like, you don’t give dogs stickers?

[websitevisitor]

image found on google images®️

[mommyameliestorycorner]

Someone’s all soggy!

The stroller bumped slightly over the sidewalk, rolling along at a steady pace as the little one sat nestled inside, his legs spread wide by the thick bulk of his diaper. He clutched his teddy tightly, his face still warm from earlier—because no matter how many times it happened, no matter how many times he was dressed this way and pushed around in public, the embarrassment never truly faded.

The world around him bustled with life—people walking by, chatting, enjoying their day, completely unaware of the little one in the stroller with his thick, crinkly diaper on full display. But he was aware. Oh, he was so very aware. Every soft crinkle when he shifted, every gentle rock of the stroller making his padding press against him. It was impossible to ignore.

And then—just as he feared—his caregiver slowed, bending slightly to lean over him.

"Let's check that diaper, little one," they cooed, their hand pressing firmly against the front of his padding.

His breath hitched. His grip on his teddy tightened. His cheeks burned hotter than ever.

"I-I'm still dry!" he blurted out, barely above a squeak, as if saying it first would somehow make the situation less humiliating.

His caregiver only smiled knowingly, giving the diaper one last squeeze before ruffling his hair. "Such a little worrier. I can check whenever I want, you know that."

He turned his face away, huffing softly, though there was no real fight in him. How could there be? He was the one sitting in a stroller, padded up like a toddler. His opinion on the matter didn’t hold much weight.

The stroller started moving again, the moment passing, but the warmth in his cheeks remained. And yet, despite the humiliation, there was an odd comfort in it, too. The way he was checked so casually, so confidently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if he really was just a little thing who needed to be monitored, cared for, treated exactly like this.

The walk continued, the sun hanging high in the sky, the world still moving around them. Time blurred together as he sat, feeling small, feeling watched, feeling little. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been out when the stroller slowed again. He knew before they even spoke what was about to happen.

"Time for another check, sweetheart."

He let out a tiny whimper, already squirming before their hand even pressed against him. But this time, there was no dryness to report. The moment fingers prodded the front of his diaper, he felt it—squishy, swollen warmth.

"Oh my," they teased, grinning down at him. "What do we have here? Someone’s all soggy!"

He nearly died on the spot. His arms squeezed around his teddy as he shrank down, his face turning completely red.

"I-I didn’t—!" he started, but his words failed him. He hadn’t even realized he’d gone. Hadn’t felt it happen, hadn’t thought to ask for a potty, hadn’t done anything but sit there in his stroller like the little thing he was, soaking himself without a care in the world.

His caregiver smirked, leaning in just a little closer. "Did you even think to tell me? Or did you just let go like a good little baby?"

"I—! I just—! I didn’t—!" His mouth opened and closed, desperate for an excuse, something to deflect, something to make this even a fraction less humiliating. But nothing came. There was no defense.

His caregiver just chuckled, reaching into the stroller’s side pouch and pulling out his pacifier. "That’s what I thought," they murmured. "And I think that’s enough big-boy talk from you."

Before he could protest, the rubber nipple was pressed to his lips. Reflex took over, and he sucked instinctively, eyes wide with mortification.

"There we go," they cooed, patting his soggy diaper one more time. "Much better. Just a little baby in his stroller, going potty without a thought in the world. And that’s exactly how it should be."

He whined behind his paci, his whole body curling up with embarrassment—but deep down, he knew there was no escaping it. He was exactly what they said he was. And the warmth spreading through his chest told him, in some small, secret way, that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sweetlittlebabymaid]

I wanna be unpotty trained so badly. I already have interoceptive issues, I make little piddles all the time. I want to just wear a diaper so I don't have to worry about it, but that's not enough. I want to erase any possibility of ever going without a diaper again. I want to really, truly need my diapers.

And I wanna be reminded of it too. Reminded that I completely and utterly failed at being a big girl, that I'm helpless to resist because I love my pampers and everyone knows it, and surely that means I belong in them. I didn't just fail potty training, it was a mistake to think I ever was in the first place. Nothing but a helpless little diaper girl from the start~

[piss-love-and-understanding]

i saw a video on pornhub where a guy's wife had locked his pants before going to work for the day, and i can't stop thinking about doing that to someone. like, there's trusting someone to control themself when i can't be there to do it for them, and then there's taking their control away, and i just. hhhhhh.

not being present to witness the fun would be a downside, but i could always set up a camera on a tripod and order my boy to stand in front of it every time he felt like he might wet (and punish him later if he failed to obey). i could give him orders like "you have to drink at least 5 glasses of water, but if you drink 7 you can have an energy drink as a treat."

getting texts throughout the day, telling me when he has to pee and when he can't hold it anymore. calling him on my lunch break to hear him whine about how he's wet his pants x times already and now he has to go again.

maybe i get home and he's desperate again, potty dancing in piss-saturated jeans, begging me to pleeeeeeeease unlock him so he can finally go to the bathroom, but i push him up against a wall and grope and kiss and bite him until he has another accident. OR maybe i make him hold it while i change him into clean pants, only for him to immediately wet those.

and then we watch the video of the day's wettings together while i tease him about what a silly little peepee boy he is 🥰

[mellowsadistic]

"Mmmmmm!"

"You hush, little girl!" Veronica's mother snapped, bringing the hairbrush down again on her daughter's rapidly reddening backside. "And don't you glare at me like that! I am your mother, young lady, and you will learn to treat me with respect by the time your regression punishment is over!"

Veronica squealed behind her pacifier again as another stinging blow landed on her rear.

Over on the bed, Kylie mewled in fear around her own soother, knowing she'd be next over her auntie's knee. Why had she agreed to sneak out and go partying with her cousin? Her aunt had made it quite plain there was to be no drinking, smoking, or any other 'inappropriate' activities as long as she was living under her roof, but ever since she'd moved in to attend the nearby college, she'd been desperate for a bit of adult excitement.

"Bad girl, Ronnie!" Veronica's mother scolded, delivering swat after swat with the hairbrush. "Very bad girl! You are not a grown-up. I don't care if you're legally an adult! I decide when you get to grow up, not you!"

Kylie would've felt bad for her poor cousin, twenty-one years old and kicking her legs and crying over her mother's knee, if she wasn't more worried about her own hiney. Veronica had lived with those infantilizing rules, along with many others, her whole life. She wasn't even allowed to dress herself in the mornings! Her mother picked all her clothes for her, and she even had a number of outfits specifically designed for punishments, like the kind the two girls were wearing now...

"Six months under toddler rules, Ronnie! You know what that means!"

"Nnnnnn!"

"Yes, little girl! You will wear pull-ups at all times. No more using the toilet for tinkle! You will wet yourself the moment you feel the urge, and you will ask permission, politely, to be escorted to the potty to do your number twos when you need to go. You will wear childish clothes. You will go to bed at eight o' clock. And the same goes for you, young lady!"

Kylie wet her pants a little in fright as her auntie's head snapped around to look in her direction.

"Some time as a toddler ought to do my naughty little niece some good too!"

Kylie whimpered. She could feel the warm, slightly soggy padding pressing against her crotch. It was awful and disgusting and babyish, and the thought that it would become a familiar feeling, that she would be peeing herself every day for the next six months, not to mention being supervised on the toilet while she pooped, made her almost faint with embarrassment.

Veronica had started to bawl. Whatever dignity or resistance she'd tried to hold onto at the beginning of her spanking had gone, and she was left wailing like a little girl, her dummy dropping from her lips as she pleaded. "P'ease, Mama! I sowwy! P'ease dobbit! I be a goo' giwl! I p'omise!"

"You understand why I'm spanking you?" her mother asked, still raining down smacks with the hairbrush.

"Yes, Mama!" Veronica sobbed. Her pale bottom had turned a bright, sore red. "Ronnie was a bad giwl!"

"You admit you deserve to spend the next six months wetting yourself and being treated like a very little girl?"

"Yes, Mama! P'ease!"

"Alright then. Good girl." Veronica's mother lowered the hairbrush and helped her hiccupping daughter off her lap. "Go stand in the corner with your hands on your head. I have another little girl to deal with before I send you to bed."

Kylie started to suck her soother for comfort. Maybe she could talk her way out of this! Then her auntie turned to face her with a look that made her bladder control fail, and a stream of pee-pee flooded into her training pants.

"Your turn, missy. Over my lap. Now!"

[babywriter]

Silly baby, you told Daddy you liked diaper. What was the issue then? You used to think pull-ups weren’t babyish enough. Now you’d like nothing more than to be able to put on a pair of panties. Things just get a lot more serious when you realize you can’t make it to the bathroom on time even when you try. Standing up was dangerous now. Immediately, you would leak out into your padding. And right about now, you had done the mistake of standing in the living room. You had that feeling of when you enter a room and don’t know where to go next.

“Do you need to go potty?” Daddy asked you. He had genuinely been trying to help you regain potty training and yet you still failed at every attempt. He gently reminded you to go potty a good dozen times a day.

“No, Daddy.” you rolled your eyes. You felt too big for such infantilization. In spite of peeing your pants every day.

But, of course, as soon as you said you didn’t need to go potty, you felt your tummy rumble. Something wanted to come out of your behind. And by the time you realized you needed to poop, your pull-up had already expanded to accommodate the mess.

Photo credit: @partyinmypullups-again

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[regressionschool]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST: A NEW APPROACH TO MARRIAGE?

By Emily Dawson, Investigative Reporter

In an era of rising divorce rates and failing marriages, one company believes they have found a radical yet effective solution—one that redefines the roles within relationships rather than dissolving them.

The "Mommy Knows Best" (MKB) program, developed by Pampers Corporation, offers struggling couples an alternative to separation. Instead of counseling or legal battles, the program transitions one partner—typically the husband—into a fully dependent little.

By removing the stress, ego, and responsibility that often cause marital tension, Pampers claims to create a more balanced, harmonious household where the wife assumes a nurturing role, and the husband embraces a simpler, carefree existence.

To its supporters, it’s a long-overdue revolution. To its critics, it’s a disturbing erasure of masculinity.

“A Man Should Be a Man” – A Former Husband Speaks Out

Not everyone is thrilled with the program. Joseph, 38, once a participant in MKB, now lives alone after divorcing his wife of ten years. He remains a vocal critic of what he calls “forced regression”.

“They stripped men of everything that makes them men,” he says, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t love. It’s control.”

According to Joseph, his wife enrolled him without his full understanding. “She made it sound like therapy,” he scoffs. “Like something that would help us communicate better. But the ‘communication’ part? That was just me being told what to do while I sat there in a… in a… damn diaper.”

His fingers twitch on the table as he hesitates on the word, his cheeks flushing slightly, as if the memory itself still holds power over him.

I ask him how long he was in the program. He sighs. “Seven months.”

And when he left?

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding eye contact. “It… took a while to adjust.”

Adjust?

His face darkens. “By the time I got out, I couldn’t even remember how to use the potty—eh, I mean toilet.”

He corrects himself quickly, but the slip is noticeable. A shadow of something uncertain flickers in his expression.

Does he still struggle with… certain habits?

His knee bounces under the table. "No. No, I’m fine now.” But he doesn’t sound convinced.

Though he claims to be fully independent again, he admits that certain instincts—like waiting for permission before making decisions—have been harder to shake.

“They train you to obey,” he mutters bitterly. “And for some guys, I guess that’s fine. But me? I lost everything.”

“He Finally Listens to Me” – A Wife’s Perspective

For Claire, 34, the experience couldn’t have been more different.

Before enrolling her husband, she says their marriage was on the verge of collapse.

“He never listened,” she explains, folding laundry as we talk. “Worked late, ignored housework, expected me to handle everything. It was like having a man-child already, just without the cute parts.”

She gestures toward the living room, where her husband—once a domineering, independent man—now sits in a soft playpen, happily occupied with colorful stacking rings.

He’s sucking a blue pacifier, his thick, crinkly Pampers diaper peeking out from beneath his cozy footed onesie. When Claire strokes his hair, he coos softly, leaning into her touch like an affectionate toddler.

“Now?” she smiles. “He actually listens.”

She explains that, in the past, every conversation turned into an argument. Now, there’s no stubbornness, no backtalk, no stress.

“When I tell him it’s naptime, he lays down. When I say he needs a change, he just giggles and lets me handle it. It’s the first time I’ve felt truly respected as a wife.”

But does he ever resist?

Claire chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, of course. He still has little moments.”

Right on cue, her husband huffs and crosses his arms. "No change," he pouts, shaking his head. "Diaper fine."

Claire sighs. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

He scowls, his lower lip jutting out petulantly—but when Claire raises an eyebrow, her voice firm yet patient, his resolve wavers.

“If you don’t let me change you,” she warns, “I’m turning off your cartoons for the rest of the day.”

His eyes widen. "Noooo!" He shakes his head frantically, the pacifier bouncing against his chest. “I be good! I be good!”

With a resigned sigh, he clambers onto the changing mat, his thick, swollen diaper squishing loudly beneath him. Claire ruffles his hair affectionately.

“See? So much easier than before,” she says with a smile.

Is This the Future of Marriage?

The Mommy Knows Best program is growing in popularity, with thousands of struggling couples enrolling every year. Pampers Corp reports that over 92% of participants choose to remain in the program permanently, claiming it strengthens marriages, eliminates conflict, and improves household harmony.

Psychologists point to reduced stress, structured routines, and positive reinforcement as key elements of its success.

And, of course, Pampers ensures that no participant ever has to worry about leaks, discomfort, or independence again.

For some, like Joseph, the program represents a loss of identity. But for women like Claire?

She simply smiles. “For the first time in my life, I’m happy. And more importantly?” She glances at her husband, who is now happily sucking his pacifier, waiting to be changed.

“So is he.”

(Sponsored in part by Pampers Corporation. Because a happy marriage starts with a happy little.)

[omodance]

Why is un-potty training so hot to me??? Literally going out of your wait to train your body not to hold in your piss anymore, slowly having more and more accidents until you’re just constantly dribbling 🤤

I’m imagining a beginning bathroom routine starting out with 3 hours of rapid desperation directly after waking up in the morning, followed by a series of holds lasting the rest of the day. Of course one would also be required to drink a liter of water before going to bed.

It would get harder and harder to make it through the night without waking up due to pains in your bladder demanding attention as the continuous holds weaken your muscles.

Eventually, after you’ve woken them up in the middle of the night begging to pee one too many times, the bladder dom would deign that all these holds before bed have been putting too much of a strain on your bladder. Obviously the answer is to make sure your bladder is nice and empty before bed, right? 3 hours of rapid desperation before bed is added to your routines, in combination with your 3 hours upon waking.

This change is what causes you to wet the bed for the first time. You woke up to pangs in your bladder as usual, but this time something is different. A faint hissing between your legs and the warm, comforting sensation pooling under your bottom alert you to wake up your bladder dom to inform them of your accident.

They just smile understandingly and pull you into a big hug. “It’s alright love, really. I should have known that you just can’t make it through the night anymore.”

And suddenly, you’re allowed to go as much as you want! In fact, you’re required to pee at least once every hour (except for night time where you still do rapid desperation before bed) And your bed is fitted with thick plastic covers to prevent mess, and your dom happily cleans up your now daily bed puddles.

This part is a little more niche, but at this point in the process I would love if the dom in this fantasy began daily sounding sessions, right after waking up. Loosining and opening your urethra up every morning after having tried (and failed) to hold your bladder during the night. By now you’re wetting at least twice every night anyways, and you’re so used to staying hydrated that you usually drink at least two glasses of water by the time morning comes. Just enough to ensure there’s still a bit of piss begging to come out after more hours than usual of waiting for release.

So they’d open you right up, a heavy hand pressing on your bladder as they coax all the piss out through your practically useless and permanently relaxing peehole. Maybe they even sneaks some sort if numbing solution on the sound to ensure that those muscles are never strong enough to hold back your pee again

Its not long after this new addition to this routine that you stop being able to make it to the bathroom every hour. In fact, it feels like your underwear is almost always soaked with dribbling leaks while you wait for each hour to pass - not because you have to, you can pee as much as you want- but because the feeling of truly losing control is finally setting in. Having multiple accidents a night is one thing, but not even being able to make it an hour or even 30 minutes without leaking piss is embarrassing!!!

Your dom notices you as you start potty dancing between frequent bathroom breaks, tutting as the wet spot grows between your legs. They follow you into the bathroom one day and wordlessly pull out some pull-ups that you had no idea were even around and silently slips them on you as you pee.

It isn’t long before you lose the inhibitions that have been holding you back and give in the the convenience of being able to dribble pee as often as you want ❤️ your once daily sounding turns to two. As you begin just using your pull ups constantly instead of the toilet, they are eventually replaced by super absorbent diapers. You probably couldn’t even hold your pee if you tried

[pedge-page]

Do you think you'd be able to write me a little something? You don't have to at all, but I'm on my 3rd night in hospital recovering from what

Should

Have been a routine surgery but it went south and they had to splice me open from pelvis to just above my belly button.

What would Joel be like with a partner recovering from surgery? And even more having to help reader pee? Both of them getting turned on but can't do anything? (My night nurse is a really hot older guy that gives joel vibes so I'm STRUGGLING)

Notes: anon I am so sorry that happened to you! Even more sorry that this took so long, but I do hope you are recovering and doing better! 

Proper Medical Attention

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: piss kink, fingering, brief piss taste, reader had hip surgery, dry humping ish

 18+ ONLY

 - - - -

“Give me that god damn jello cup,” you command, extending your arm and making grabby-grabby hand gestures.

Joel rolls his eyes. His arms are folded across his chest, slumped in the uncomfortably plastic seat and metal frame of the guest chair under the window. “Ya ain’t supposed to have jello. Drink water.”

Dropping your arms, you frown. “I’m sorry, isn’t jello a fluid?”

“No, ‘course not. It’s—it kind of—more like—“

He fails his words trying to explain.

You snap your fingers anyway and point incessantly to the tray across the room with the jello cups.

He grumbles but follows your demand, handing you one.

“Can you open it pleaassee?” You pout.

“Thought it was just your legs that ain’t workin’.” He tears it open with ease then hands it to you. 

“You try getting double hip surgery.” You rub your hands together excitedly.

He looks around the tray. “No spoon…Do ya want me to feed it to—“

You tilt your head back and suck the squirmy blob out of the tube like a shot glass, tongue working it out perfectly until your mouth is just full of jello. You sucked it down like it was the best jello of your life.

“—Nevermind.”

“Thought you were supposed to have lots of fluids after surgery.” You slurp another one down before chucking it all Joel’s head, hoping he’ll take the hint to throw them away to you.

“You are. Jello ain’t a fluid.”

“Doc said it is.”

“Not all doc’s are smart,” He sasses you, throwing away the cups in his lap as well as the ones crunched in yours. “The nurse said ya ain’t supposed to have a lot right now since ya ain’t ready to use the bathroom yet. That’s why, dummy.”

“Psh. I don’t have to pee. That’s—“ you pause, suddenly realizing the your body hadn’t thought about the last time she had gone to the restroom. Now full of jello cups that, your body now decided is a liquid state, the urge to go is upon you.

“Oh. Oh Joel.”

“What.”

“Why—why would you do this to me.”

“I ain’t done—what are you—“ but he sees your knee curve inward under the white sheet, and your free hand go down between your thighs. “—oh no.”

You only nod embarrassingly. Sighing, you reply, “I’ll just call the nurse guy—“

“Hell no.”

“What?”

“It’s a guy!”

“… so?”

“So… I ain’t letting a guy help you piss.”

“I can’t go by myself!”

Joel crunches his fists. “Alright, I’ll help you.”

The nurse (the hot sexy one Joel doesn’t trust) helps you out of the bed, offering you a walker. He gets you all the way to the private suite door.

“I got it from here,” Joel budges in, stepping between the nurse and you.

“Are—are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I just want to make sure she’s—“

“Yeah I got it. Just help her down the seat an make sure she stays upright, yeah?”

He nods, and Joel gives him a curt smile before shutting the door, locking the two of you in.

Joel and your eyes fall upon the toilet seat.

“I can’t do this,” you whine, suddenly regretting being potty trained for the first time in your life.

 “We’re doin’ this. Otherwise mister pretty boy is gonna do it and I ain’t letting’ that happen.”

You walker-waddle yourself over to the toilet before backing up and positioning your rear to the seat.

“I gotcha,” Joel says, a comforting hand on your back to help you ease down into a squat. 

You were still a little numbed up from the surgery, so it was more uncomfortable than it was painful. You didn’t want to look at the sutures binding your sides together, instead concentrating on the sink ahead. You gripped the side handles for dear life. 

Finally, your bare ass touches down on the seat. 

“And we have landed,” he chuckles. He makes sure your papery gown is clear out of the slpash zone. 

“Your ass is still cute by the way.” He winks. 

You roll your eyes. Of course he was looking at your baby butt full on display in this stupid thing. “Think the nurse agrees?” You tease.

His good-natured humor quickly disappears in favor of a scowling jaw-grind. He folds his arms across his chest, looking between your legs.

It’s a little too silent right now.

“Supposed to go.”

“I can’t do it when you’re looking at me like that!”

“Like what? I’ve seen your hooha before, babygirl. Doc was more intimately inside you this mornin’ more than I ever been.”

“It’s not… that I just…you… you don’t see me pee!”

It’s one thing to be walking around the house naked for Joel, Joel eating your pussy every morning like his coffee and biscuit, and Joel playing with your folds on a lazy Wednesday evening.

But the man has never seen you go to the bathroom before! “It’s…it’s just different.”

“C’mon. Just—go!”

“Turn around!”

He tosses his hands up. “Fine!” Now facing the wall, he grumbles, “Happy?”

But you’re not. just his presence here is shaking you up. God, you had to go so bad a minute ago. Why can’t you just do it now?”

“Still awfully quiet back there…” he chides annoyingly.

“Give it a minute!” I’m gonna fucking strangle him the moment I can walk on my own.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pretending you’re at home, in your private little bedroom bathroom, with your comfy bathrug beneath your feet, and it smells like vanilla and lavender. 

You let out a breath, and begin to go.

Breathing steadily, eyes still closed, you don’t notice Joel’s ears twitch. Nor the way he shifts his weight from the left to the right, nor how his eyes keep wanting to glance behind him.

I mean, you’re going now, right? He can just… take a peak. Its not like… he ain’t seen fluids come from there before…

He turns his shoulder just slightly, head tilted to see you. the hissing sound between your legs immediately draws his attention down, and he lips part slightly to let out a silent sigh. 

You moan a little, feeling much better now that you were emptying a very tight bladder. Opening your eyes, you don’t expect to be met with Joel’s staring back at you.

“Hey! I said—“

But he’s not even listening: his pupils are blown wide, staring at the stream exiting your cunt and splashing below, his mouth agape as he licks his lower lip every few seconds. His biceps are strained hard against that slutty plain shirt, and you definitely don’t miss the way his pants look tighter around his crotch.

No. Fucking. Way.

Joel Miller has a piss kink.

It hurts to do so, but you spread just a little wider, now exposing your twitchy clit to his hungry eyes.

That gets his attention. He entirely shifts his body forward facing you again. 

“Damn. I really had to go,” you giggle, humming contently. “Joel?”

He swallows in response. 

Your eyes trail downward as he adjusts himself in his jeans. He gives extra care to palm his tent a little bit, though it’s not even subtle anymore with the way he’s still cupping and brushing his hard-on.

Your trickle lightens before stopping entirely.

It’s silent again.

“Um…could you…get me…paper...” You feel a little flustered just asking. 

It’s the way he’s looking at you. That’s all. That heat between your thighs? Just the warm piss dripping. that’s all. There’s nothing else wet happening down there. Yeah. That’s probably it.

He doesn’t go for the toilet paper roll. Instead, Joel gets on one knee, right between yours, and reaches his hand between your thighs.

“Joel!”

He cups your mound, growling when his palm and digits come in contact with your hot, wet center. “Baby…”

‘Its just—just—pee—“

“It ain’t just pee,” he snickers, his eyes low.

His finger flicks your nub a little, taking his time to drag then through your slick folds.

He can feel the distinct throb in your core. Everything about his touch is even more heightened than it normally is. And he touches you down there a lot. But for the both of you right now, it’s like it’s new territory all over again. Your fingernails bite the side grips just as hard as your teeth sink into your tongue. 

He can tell you’re holding in your moans. “Stubborn little thing, ain’t ya?”

“Don’t t-talk,” you squeak. 

He shrugs. “Looks like I ain’t the only one who enjoyed that show.” He grips his hardened jean-clad cock with his other hand, grinding his palm into it as he plays with your wetness.

“I—“

“Do you want to give me another round?” He sneers. He delves his fingers further, finally parting your petals. “What am I gonna do with ya? Can’t even piss without my help—“

On cue, you let out a little extra squirt you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. He groans, feeling the heat of your urine soak his palm completely as he cups you fully.

 Grinding the heel of his hand into your clit, you start to feel lightheaded.

Before you can speak, he dips his middle and forefinger into his mouth, humming at the tangy, salty, slimy taste of your arousal and liquid gold coating him.

You gape at him.

Smacking his lips a final time, he leans close, and the scent of your fluids just barely coats his lips. "Want a taste?" he holds his hand out to your face, still slick with his saliva.

Every bell in your brain says to be a good girl and suck them clean.

So you do: your tongue slithers between the cracks, sucking the pads in until he's clean.

He takes his cue, knowing he’ll be in trouble if you pass out on his watch.

“Time to clean up, babygirl.”

He wipes the towels between your pussy-lips generously, soft and careful.

“I could—have—done that—myself—“ you stammer. Your body is still alive with jitters, but your brain is struggling to process what’s happened

Joel washes his hands thoroughly before helping you back up and to the sink yourself. He stands behind you so you don’t lose balance.

You prop your elbows along the vanity, careful to avoid his gaze staring back at you In the mirror. 

The water rushes against your knuckles as you generously lather the soap through the cracks and under your fingernails.

You feel his lips brush against the back of your head. And even more prominent, the bulge that nudges your ass cheeks perfectly.

“How long?” He whispers, giving a peck to your ear shell.

“4.”

“I hoped you say days…but it’s weeks, aint it.”

You turn around, wiping your hands dry with the towel. he tears your down, holding you close so you can lean on him for leverage. 

His lust filled eyes look ready to tear you apart all over again.

“Months.”

He looks ready to have a heart attack.

“WHAT!”

“Doc said 4 weeks on the walker. 4 months to be cleared for rigorous sexual activity.” You toss the paper towel, grab your walker, and saunter out of there with as much sexy confidence as girl on a walker with her bare ass swaying on display can muster.

He follows behind you. “You think I’m losing here?’

Pulling the sheets, you backward scoot until your thighs are at the edge of the bed. He helps hoist your ankles slowly in the air until you can lay back comfortable.

“Just remember. When I take you home…you can’t get up and do anything without my assistance. Right?” Joel nods to the nurse, who came back to check on you.

“S’right! You’ll need careful monitoring for any movement during your recovery. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your meds.” He leaves the room.

You gulp, unwilling to see the devilish look in Joel’s eyes.

He holds one of your empty jello cups. “Wonder if they’ll ask me to help ya piss in a cup if ya get some kind of infection…” he ponders.

- - - -

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