Wet himself during a formal meeting

[Lee]

Kieran was the new boy at A.D.Farmer’s advertising company and only a short while after graduating from university he had managed to obtain himself a position as a media researcher with the company. At 23 years of age he had initially hoped for something a bit more exciting but it was a good ‘foot in the door’ role. Three months in, he was enjoying the job. His work colleagues were generally good, the office was smart and the environment was comfortable. He had a great workplace amidst a busy office and the working conditions were relaxed. The work could sometimes be mundane but equally challenging at other times and the days passed quickly.

Kieran was a tall, confident lad and he regularly arrived in his pristine crisp white shirt and tie, usually dressed in tight-fitting fashionable dark blue checked trousers and smart black shoes. But a couple of his more eagle-eyed work colleagues had noticed one or two odd things about young Kieran, especially Matt, who sat at one of the adjacent desks in the large office.

The first was Kieran’s somewhat strange penchant for wearing white socks. For a lad who seemed to pride himself on his body and his dress sense, the white socks didn’t fit with his style. He didn’t wear them every day and looked incredibly stylish and fashionable when he had black socks on but on the days he opted for white cotton socks, Matt was fascinated to see his young colleague wrapping his feet around the legs of his chair, clad in black lace-up fashion shoes and white socks, looking for all the world like an uncool fifth-former in class at school.

Not that he was at his desk that often. Kieran also had an amazing propensity to drink water during the day. Whether it was from the hoards of plastic bottles he seemed to produce or plastic cups of water from the dispenser in the office, but he was rarely seen without a cup or bottle up to his lips as he slurped his way through seemingly several litres each day. Understandably, even for a fit young lad, his visits to the toilet were numerous and he was becoming guilty of starting to wear a worn path on the carpet from his chair to the gents toilet on the ground floor of the building.

Matt could always tell when the critical moment was approaching as Kieran could be seen jigging his feet up and down and the more frantic the movement, the closer he was getting to the moment when he would suddenly stand up and stride prominently across the office to the door. On one occasion, Matt had been coming back up the stairs when Kieran had burst through the door and begun to head down the steps, looking as if he had little time to waste.

“You alright, Kieran?” enquired Matt, but his colleague had simply nodded and smiled as he had dismounted the stairs, two at a time, in an apparent hurry to get to where he was headed. A cruel part of Matt had wanted to somehow delay his journey by extending the conversation, but Kieran was gone before he could devise a plan and Matt found himself wishing he could have been inside the gents when Kieran had rushed into the toilet!

There had been one recent unforgettable occasion when Matt had walked into the gents toilet to see Kieran standing at the urinal. He could only see his back but although Kieran had both hands in front of him, his dark blue check trousers were pulled down by a fair distance as he had undone the fly and buttons so that he could pull down the front of his underpants to pee. From the rear view Matt could see the tops of Kieran’s bum cheeks, encased in a pair of tight-fitting white underpants. The sighting was only a brief one though, as within just a few seconds he was tucking in his shirt and re-buttoning his trousers.


The Meeting Day

The meeting of the directors and executive team had started at 10:00am and Kieran had come out of the toilet around 9:40am, when numerous members of the meeting team had been coming up the stairs and it had been obvious where he had emerged from as he stood back politely to let them all continue on their way. It had therefore been somewhat awkward when, around an hour later, the finance director, a Mrs Deidre Sullivan, had nipped out of the meeting room and back to the main office to pick up some printing from the copier, only to see Kieran emerging from the toilet once again. No words were exchanged but Kieran was certain she knew where he was coming from… for a second time!

It was just after midday when Matt had spotted the tell-tale signs once again as Kieran’s feet were wrapped tightly around the legs of his chair and jigging up and down in frantic fashion as he bounced his shoes on and off the carpeted floor. An empty plastic water bottle was on top of his desk and two plastic cups side by side next to it indicated that a considerable amount of liquid had been consumed, although Kieran was fully focused on his computer screen as he fidgeted his legs anxiously.

Suddenly, the door opened and one of the secretarial team stepped in,

“Kieran” she called gently, “would you mind coming with me, please?”

Kieran looked somewhat startled as he spun round in his chair.

“Don’t worry, nothing to be concerned about. You’re just needed for a few minutes, that’s all.” The secretary reassured him.

Kieran stood up and strode across the office, displaying a full ankle view of his white socks where his trousers had ridden up whilst he had been sitting down. Everyone else in the office looked slightly puzzled as the meeting taking place was a high-powered affair so why was young Kieran required?

On the landing outside the office, Kieran was in two minds as to whether to ask if he had time to visit the toilet first as he had been literally on the verge of nipping down to the gents. But the meeting room was up on the next floor, two flights up from the toilets and so he allowed the opportunity to pass. But on the walk up the staircase, he felt his bladder complaining strongly as it resembled the sensation of a football in the pit of his belly.

The inside of the meeting room was a picture of formality. The large long oak table was surrounded by 12 people, eight of whom were suited men. The imposing high backed chairs were all occupied with the exception of two – one of which had been vacated by Mrs Deidre Sullivan who was standing at the door to greet Kieran. She smiled and beckoned him to sit in the empty seat next to hers.

“Thank you for joining us, Kieran” said the chairman, “don’t be alarmed, but we have been discussing some of the recent attacks on media campaigns and as someone who will have watched an awful lot of our work, we’d like you to watch this short video to see whether we have come across any of the issues highlighted. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course” replied Kieran, inwardly panicking at the prospect of being stuck in the room for ages.

During the next few minutes, whilst they were setting up the video clip to watch, the people around the table muttered quietly to each other and Kieran sat in silence, conscious that his bladder was sending out distress signals. He wanted to squirm on his chair and knock his knees together but in a remarkable outward display of composure, he sat still with his outstretched hands clasped together in front of him, on the table, looking calm and relaxed.

As the video clip began to play, it was a sheer miracle that nobody could see the subtle yet frantic movement taking place below the table level. Kieran’s thigh muscles were working overtime, tensing the tops of his legs in a rhythmic fashion and massaging his groin on the leather seat. Lower down, his calf muscles were ballooning and contracting inside his trouser legs as he gently pressed his feet into the carpet, extinguishing an imaginary cigarette whilst inside his leather shoes his toes were curling and twitching in his white socks.

“You okay, Kieran?” asked the chairman in a quiet voice, “it’s only about 15 minutes long.”

Kieran nodded silently, apparently comfortable to all in the room and although his hands were still clasped together on the table, his fingers were clenched so firmly that his nails were digging into his flesh. He wasn’t especially aware of a pain in his belly, but more so an incredible discomfort that was inching rapidly towards the stage where control over his bladder would be difficult.

He was watching the screen, afraid to divert his eyes and yet almost terrified to swallow for fear of disturbing his fragile condition and every few seconds he felt his tummy flip in a panicked reaction that he might start to release some urine into his underpants. Kieran knew that he had to get out of the room but he was also aware that he couldn’t allow himself to stand up and run ridiculously out of the room, probably holding himself humiliatingly as he did so, and he was telling himself that he simply had no other option than to frantically hang on until his torturous ordeal was over.

Behind his seemingly focused and expressionless face, his fuddled brain was working overtime…
‘please, please, please… let me last out… I’ve got to hold on… please… this can’t be happening… I can’t wet myself! Please!’ But his internal sense of sheer panic was intensifying his terrible need.

Nobody in the room had any inkling of Kieran’s panic beneath his cool exterior – or did they?


Sitting alongside Kieran was Mrs Deidre Sullivan and whether it be a woman’s intuition or not, she sensed that all was not well with the 23-year old young man sitting in the chair next to her. His predicament was not obvious enough to tell her what the problem was but something was not right.

She looked at Kieran’s red and flushed face as he did not avert his eyes from the screen and his upper body remained motionless, with his hands resting unmoved in front of him on the table.

Mrs Sullivan leaned back slightly in her chair and strained her neck ever so slightly to look down to her right, where she was instantly drawn to Kieran’s black shoe which was flat on the green carpet

… the little trickles weaving their way through through the laces were accumulating on the leather surface and dribbling off the sides of the upper shoe…

… his white sock, slightly creased around his ankle, was vividly showing grey wetness as little rivulets were running down the side and dripping down his shoe…

… the bottom of the cuff of his navy blue checked trousers was releasing a tap-like stream of clear liquid which was running all down his leg and gathering in a pool next to his shoe…

As she looked with absolute horror, the strength of the flow intensified to almost jet-like proportions and little trickles and dribbles began to stream off both the front and the sides of the leather cushion, emerging from underneath Kieran’s bum which was still planted firmly on the chair. On the floor beneath his seat the puddle was growing in size and starting to glisten and shimmer on the carpet, extending right across to where his right foot was placed, slightly over on one side and allowing the hot urine to gather and froth under the sole.

Mrs Sullivan briefly glanced up at Kieran’s face, seeing his ‘rabbit-in-the-headlights’ expression, although others in the room may have seen nothing other than a face focused on what he was intently watching. But as she instantly reverted her gaze to his feet, she could see the torrent jetting from his chair bubbling as the stream cascaded into the puddle before gradually diminishing into a trickle which dripped and silently splashed into the wetness, causing a ripple-like effect with every droplet whilst the occasional dribble still fell from the sides of the seat as the cooling puddle swished around on the leather under his sodden backside.

Kieran was sitting in a cold puddle although his white briefs were warm and sticky, clinging to his bum and the clammy feeling all down his lower legs left his trousers sticking soddenly to his shins.

He had still not looked down and could not see his shoes surrounded by a puddle of urine and his discoloured white socks crumpled wetly around his ankles but his heart was silently pounding in his chest like he had never experienced before. He hardly knew where he was, let alone what he was supposed to do, but suddenly, the silence in the room was broken.

“Can we break please, suspend the meeting?” asked Deidre Sullivan in a monotone voice.

The chairman looked startled, as did several others as Mrs Sullivan glanced furtively to the floor as if to make absolutely certain that she really had seen what she knew had, before adding starkly,

“Kieran’s had an accident.”

The announcement still didn’t really hit home with the majority but Steve Hanson, who was sitting on the opposite side, pushed his chair away from the table, leaned back, and blurted out,

“Oh My God! He’s wet himself!”

There was a sense of genuine shock and embarrassment in the room as all eyes veered towards the floor beneath Kieran’s chair, where his black shoes remained planted in the dark-stained pool which glistened like a lake and absorbed the occasional drip from the bottom of his trouser-leg.

“Okay, let’s call a halt for things for now” declared the chairman as everyone began to stand up and step back from the table … everyone except Kieran who remained glued to his chair and for the first time, looked down at his shoes as he heard a couple of voices,

“Has he really been in his trousers?”
“Look at that puddle, poor kid must have been busting!”

“Stay there lad” said a voice, “we’ll get one of your colleagues to come in and get you sorted out. Why ever didn’t you say you wanted to go to the toilet?”


A minute or so later, Matt walked into the big meeting room, looking confused as to why he’d been summoned. He saw Kieran sitting motionlessly in one of the large chairs, his shoulders slumped and his face and neck bright red.

“What’s up mate? You not feeling too good?”

Kieran looked up, “I’ve wet myself.”

“Oh shit, mate! Seriously? You’ve done it in your pants?”

Kieran nodded.

They looked at each other in disbelief as Matt cast his mind back to the vast amount of empty water bottles and cups which always lined Kieran’s desk, and his constant dashes to the downstairs toilet. Matt had visualised on several occasions young Kieran bursting into the toilet, frantically unbuckling his belt and yanking down his trousers as his pants started to get wet as the thought of him just making it to the toilet in the nick of time quite excited him. But he had never ever expected to see his work colleague sitting with a puddle all around his shoes.

A couple of minutes, both of them were walking slowly across the landing. Matt gently had his hand on his colleague’s back, guiding him towards the stairs whilst Kieran was walking awkwardly and uncomfortably with his legs apart, displaying a wet, dark, almost black stain across his backside and all down his legs. His soaking trousers clung to his legs and where they had ridden up and been held in position by their saturation, almost the entirety of his white socks were totally visible and a glimpse of his bare shin could be seen above the top of one of his crumpled socks.

Fortunately, he could not hear the excitable chatter back in his office.

“Kieran Wet Himself!”

“Kieran’s wet his pants!”

“Kieran went to the toilet in the meeting room!”

There was going to need to be some serious sympathy and empathy shown back in the office next day.

[Wombat48]

Absolutely brilliant! Thanks Lee

Lol you have a thing for white socks!

I am currently drinking a gallon of water each day so can relate very well to this!

[Brian]

White socks on a young guy in a smart office work clothes drive me crazy!

But when he's had an accident in a meeting and the trousers are now anything but smart... oh oh oh!!!

[greatwater]

Fantasising about Kieran's loads of piss now. So hot, Lee! Thank you!

[BottleBlaze]

Oh my!

I would love to see more interactions between Matt and Kieran. Sounds like it could be quite interesting

[evergreen]

You have just described the ultimate wet pants nightmare. I'd like to think they could share some experiences together some other time.

[Fred]

At meetings I always try to sit as close as possible to an exit "just in case". I've mentioned to people that I do it because I'm claustrophobic, but that's not the only reason.

[Def123]

Brilliant!

I can relate to this, I was once on my way to the gents when I got caught by one of our bosses to see if I could fix her email.......

[Wombat48]

Brilliant!

I can relate to this, I was once on my way to the gents when I got caught by one of our bosses to see if I could fix her email.......

What happened?

[Def123]

I fixed her email really quickly!