Another Danny Story - but this time not Danny!!
Posted: 24 Mar 2025, 19:53
(Danny has suffered enough for the moment!! 
It was three months after Danny’s accidents at the fairground and during the subsequent police incident following Dawn’s workplace event and he was still getting disapproving comments from his girlfriend about what had happened and her embarrassing explanation to her senior managers. So when the opportunity came for Danny to join his work-mates on a long weekend in Split, Croatia, he jumped at the chance.
The six lads who travelled along with Danny were Jack, Joe, Will, Jay, Aaron and Connor. Apart from the latter two, who’d joined a bit later, they’d all worked together for a number of years and were now all close mates, and so were looking forward to a good time away.
Unsurprisingly, several beers were downed in the departure lounge and when the group boarded, there were more than a few pairs of eyes stealing glances at the locked toilet. The plane sat on the runway for around 20 minutes before slowly taxing along the runway path for seemingly ages, and those beers were starting to have an effect. But unusually, it wasn’t Danny who was faring badly this time. Instead, the most discomfort was being felt by Will who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He was sitting rigidly in his seat and constantly looking to the front of the plane where the toilets were located, whilst he was jigging his legs back and forth as he sat awkwardly.
“You alright there, mate?” asked Joe, who was sitting alongside him in the aisle seat.
“No, I’m not” replied Will testily, “I’m busting to go for a sodding piss!”
“Yeah, I could do with one when those bogs open” grinned Joe, adding, “I’ll let you go first though!”
“Christ mate, I’m telling you, I might have to break the rules in a minute and make a dash for it. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to last out.”
Joe grinned more broadly and looked to his left, where Connor, Aaron and Jack were sitting in the opposite row, “Will’s going to break ranks in a second, boys. Nobody get in his way when those bogs get opened, he’s going to be running with the blinkers on!”
Aaron leaned forward and looked across, “Blimey, he looks like he’s going to piss himself!”
Jack turned back to the row behind and peered over the top of the seats to see Danny and Jay sitting side by side, “Do you need a wee-wee, Danny lad?”
“Yeah, a bit, why?” replied Danny.
“Cos you’re gonna have to cross your legs and hang on. Will’s bagged the toilet first – that’s if he hasn’t been in his pants before they open them up!”
Jay raised himself from his seat and looked over at Will and Joe, “Oh he’s busting, you can tell. I’ve never seen Will like that before!”
Danny remained firmly in his seat, “I’m not looking, he’ll make me want to go too. I’m alright at the moment, but if I see him gagging for one, it’ll make me have to fucking go too!”
Joe leaned over again, “What’s happened Danny? It’s usually you who’s dying for a piss and nearly wetting your knickers!!”
“Nearly!” laughed Jack, “that’s an understatement!”
But in his seat, as the plane finally got airborne, Danny was feeling slightly self-conscious as he cast his mind back a number of years to his holiday to Portugal with Dawn and his mum and dad, when he’d got himself into a terrible state on the plane and come desperately close to peeing himself. He remembered the way he had felt as he frantically tried to hold on, whilst getting genuinely close to letting go in his pants. He tried not to think about what had happened when he’d finally made it into the arrivals building, where he’d spectacularly wet himself at the age of 23 in front of everyone, including his parents and his girlfriend.
=========================
“Mate, I’m going to fucking wet myself in a minute!”
Will was bent forwards in his seat with his right hand plunged deeply between his legs which were clamped together, “I can’t hold this much longer!”
“If you think you’re gonna piss yourself, just imagine all those birds waiting for you on Split beach!” grinned Joe unhelpfully, “that’ll help you hold on!”
“Jesus!” groaned Will as he lifted the heels of his feet off the floor, “Man, I’m as close to weeing as I’ve ever been. I’m never gonna make it in time. I don’t know what I’m going to do, mate!”
“Is he alright?” asked a concerned-looking Connor from the opposite row.
“I don’t think he is” replied Joe, “he says he’s about to wet his drawers!”
“Bloody Hell!” said Aaron, “what’s he going to do if he pisses himself?”
Suddenly, with a loud ping, the seat-belt signs went off. Several passengers started to get up from their seats, but Will was clambering past Joe and beginning to hobble to the front of the plane. A number of other still-seated passengers were watching in astonishment as Will shuffled along the aisle, bent slightly forward and keeping his legs pushed together as much as he could manage. It was obvious to everyone that the 20-something bloke was desperate to go to the toilet and several heads were leaning out into the gangway to watch the spectacle.
Joe and the others were watching equally as intrigued as Will reached the front of the plane toilets, where several others were also heading and just as he got there, another guy was about to close the door behind him as the first user. Will grabbed the door before it could be closed and there was a brief exchange between the two before the other bloke shrugged and stepped back, allowing Will to almost fall into the toilet.
Despite also needing to go, Joe remained in his seat, watching with amusement as a queue of about a dozen people formed outside the toilets, imagining if Will had had to wait in the queue! It was a good few minutes before Will emerged from the toilet, shaking hands gratefully with the guy who had let him push in, and he made his way back along to his row, where Joe stood up to let him past.
“What did you do to make him let you go first?” he asked, “threaten him or something?”
Will was still slightly red-faced from the strain of his ordeal, as he shook his head gently.
“I just told him I was doing it in my pants and it was starting to run down my leg, I almost wasn’t joking either, mate! Fuck me, that was close!”
=========================
On the Saturday evening, the group had gathered on the promenade outside a hotel bar in Split, enjoying the warm evening weather with trays of drinks, having enjoyed a fulsome meal earlier on. Everyone was relaxed and as well as reflecting on the laid-back events of the day’s boat trip, they were also in humorous mood, with Jack keen to go back over what had happened on the flight.
“So come on then Will lad, tell us the truth, how close were you to having pissy pants on the plane?”
Will puffed out his cheeks and put his pint down on the table.
“Trust me mate, I will never, ever – and I mean never – come closer to wetting meself as long as I live. Two or three more minutes and it was happening in me pants. That’s the god’s honest truth!”
“You seriously would have wet yourself?!” Aaron seemed genuinely shocked.
“Yep, I would have just pissed in my jeans, probably in me seat!”
“And if that bloke hadn’t let you use the toilet before him…?” questioned Aaron.
“I’d have done it standing outside the toilet! No joke lads, I was as close to pissing myself as it’s possible to be. I honestly thought I was done for and that I was going to wet me fucking pants!”
The lads were all laughing raucously.
“You do realise that weeing yourself would have meant that Danny-Boy here would have lost his status as our own Mr Piss Pants, don’t you. We couldn’t have two blokes in the same working group who’d both wet themselves, could we now!”
“And Danny’s done it more than once too!”
“Three times isn’t it Danny, mate?”
Danny made no comment and just pulled a face – he’d heard it all so many times before that it was like water off a duck’s back by now.
Aaron grabbed hold of Danny’s arm, “I’ve seen you do it once, and that was embarrassing enough, but three fucking times! How the fuck can that happen to a fully grown bloke?
“It happens to Danny!” laughed Jack, “he pisses wherever and whenever he wants, don’t you mate?”
But Aaron wasn’t about to let the subject drop easily.
“Did you used to piss yourself as a youngster then?”
“Fuck off!” replied Danny, “no I fucking didn’t, they’ve just been accidents, that’s all!”
“I’ve never ever wet myself though” said Aaron, “and I bet no-one else has either.”
He looked at Joe, “Have you?”
“No I bloody haven’t you cheeky sod!”
“Jack, what about you? Have you ever had ‘ an accident’, as Danny puts it?”
“Not a chance mate, not a fucking chance! Well, maybe deliberately, but no, I never have!”
“And before you ask me too, apart from coming so close on that plane, no, I’ve never pissed me pants either!” interrupted Will.
Aaron looked around the table at who was left unquestioned.
“Jay mate, what about you? Ever wet yourself?”
Jay instantly felt his cheeks redden and desperately wanted to avert his eyes but he knew that he daren’t do so, although he could sense Danny looking at him and he made sure that he didn’t glance back across at him.
“No, of course not!” he said quickly.
“You sure? You seem a bit uncertain there, mate!” grinned Will.
“No!” snapped back Jay without hesitation, “Not me, I’ve never fucking done it!”
Jay wasn’t aware of whether Danny was still looking, but he made sure he didn’t make eye contact.
Aaron tipped back on his chair.
“So, it looks like you’re alone in your shame Danny lad, unless Connor here’s going to tell us some juicy confession about how he’s wee’d himself in his knickers!”
They all looked over at Connor, who was sitting back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
“Well actually, as it happens – do you want to hear a story?”
=========================
Connor Barron was 26-years-old and had worked as a scaffolder with P.K.McIndoe’s for the past four years, prior to which he had been in the British Army, serving almost three years after joining up when he was a 19-year-old. Not particularly well-built, he was nonetheless strong and fit, with his humour and enthusiasm for work making him a popular member of the scaffolding crew.
Those traits had been necessary in the forces, where he had found his niche after drifting around in the previous couple of years after leaving school. He had loved his time in the army. Never showing any ambition to progress beyond the lower ranks, he earned himself a reputation as a loyal and reliable colleague, becoming well-known for providing support and assistance to the newer recruits.
Based at Pirbright in Surrey, he was in what proved to be his final year when his entire platoon was selected to carry out ceremonial duties in Nottingham. Several units travelled by coach as they were due to participate over a long weekend, but Connor’s small unit was only required for the day and so they travelled by train, which was a welcome break from stuffy and uncomfortable coach trips.
The day itself went well but was a long and tiring event, but as the weary troops began to prepare themselves for the return journey, they were given the surprise news that they were to travel back by minibus in a convoy with the coaches.
=========================
The 18-seater minibus was not the most comfortable, with little room for the squaddies to stretch their aching legs and with little sign of refreshments there was considerable discussion about how they were to be fed, despite the fact they had been provided with wholesome lunches at midday.
“I hope we’re stopping for some grub, I’m hungry now and I’ll be starving by the time we get back”
“Probably a stop off at the services, I reckon. They’ll let us grab some sandwiches and drinks”
“That’d be good, I hope it’s a proper service station, I really need a wee”
The last comment came from 22-year-old Connor, who was sitting in a window seat in one of the middle rows. He was sitting with his feet pushed under the seat in front and slightly to his right in the chair, so that his head was against the window, watching the countryside pass by, albeit slowly.
“I wish we’d get a move on too, we’re crawling along here. I could do with a toilet stop badly.”
But before anyone could respond to Connor, there was an announcement from the sergeant in the front seat. “Okay lads, listen carefully. As you know, we’re travelling in a convoy all the way back so there won’t be an opportunity to stop. So I’ve got a supply of bottled water and orange juice, along with sandwiches and sausage rolls, which I’ll be passing round in the next few minutes. Don’t guzzle them, there’s plenty of them, but let’s try and make sure we’ve got enough for a second dish-out later on. We’ve got a good couple of hours ahead of us so save some for another hand-out.”
There was a murmur of approval about the refreshments, but Connor was unconcerned about the food and drink. He had pulled his feet back and sat upright in his seat. He had pretty much switched off from what was being said after he’d heard ‘there won’t be an opportunity to stop’.
“Not stopping? Is he serious? We’ve got to make a stop, I need a piss!”
“Bad luck then” a voice came from behind him, “it’s not going to be your day, is it?”
Connor tried to turn his head back to address whoever had spoken to him, but the twisting of his body made him aware of the fullness in his bladder as he felt a bloated sensation around his midriff.
“No-one told me we weren’t stopping! They always have a piss-stop on these sort of things! We can’t be expected to wait all the way back to barracks!”
“Course we can be expected to wait, we do what we’re told, mate. You know that. How come you didn’t have a jimmy riddle before we left?”
Connor was horrified at the prospect of a two-hour non-stop journey, “Because I didn’t know we weren’t fucking stopping, that’s why!”
“It’s a convoy mate” came another voice, “no-one’s stopping, like it or not. There’s no way they’re going to be pulling over a dozen or so coaches and carriers just so you can get out and have a piss!”
“Well what the fuck am I going to do?” queried Connor.
“Hold it in I guess! Unless you want to do something unthinkable!” came the reply, prompting a ripple of laughter, “or piss in one of the orange juice bottles if there’s no other option!”
“God, I might just have to use a bottle!” winced Connor.
Before any other exchanges could take place, the sergeant announced that the refreshments were on their way round, and as the packed sandwiches were handed out, someone laughed and called out, “whoever said they might be pissing in the orange juice bottle better think again!”
as they all saw the pack of bottles with fixed flip-up straw-type lids.
“Blimey! Even if you could get the top off, nobody’s getting their willy to fit in that sized bottle neck anyway!” prompting a loud peal of laughter.
“Oh Christ! What am I going to do?” asked a panicky Connor, “I’m dying for the toilet, there’s no way I’ll last out all the way back! How the fuck am I going to deal with this without pissing myself?”
=========================
The group began to dive into the sandwiches and sausage rolls as they started to relax from the pressures of the day. Ceremonial duties were part and parcel of the army and whilst the actual events were often enjoyable, the build-up, training, travel and waiting around generally made the days long and tiresome, and this had been no exception. But the journey home was often something to look forward to.
British Army No.2 dress was the order of the day, consisting of khaki jacket and trousers, a light fawn coloured shirt and buffed black shoes. During the event, peaked khaki caps were worn, along with a white ceremonial belt – although the latter two items were almost instantly discarded by most as soon as the event was over.
Along with the majority of the others, Connor had put his cap and belt on the rack above the seats and he had undone his jacket with highly-polished buttons . Some of the lads were unlacing their shoes to help with their aching feet, but Connor had more pressing matters to contend with.
“Here, have one of these” offered Griff, a Welsh lad who was sitting adjacent to Connor, as he held out a pack of small sausage rolls.
“Sod the bloody food” Connor replied without even looking, “I need to go to the toilet like you wouldn’t believe!”
“Just for a piss, I hope!” grinned Macca from the seat in front.
“Of course for a piss!” snapped back Connor, “if we don’t stop, I’ll… well, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“You’re going to be struggling by the time we get back then mate, another two hours maybe”
“I’m struggling now!” replied Connor, “Fuck’s sake, I don’t half want to go bad!”
“Are you lot alright back there?” called out the sergeant from the front seat.
“We are sarge” shouted back Keano, “but Connor’s not – he’s dying for a wee-wee!”
“Tell him to cross his legs then!” came back the response.
There was a ripple of laughter, but Connor was not amused.
“This is fucking ridiculous, how can we not have a fucking stop? I’m not going to last without having a piss-break, someone’s got to do something about it, surely?”
“Mate, there’s about ten coachloads of squaddies in this convoy and I bet no-one’s moaning as much as you are. Finish the parade, have a wee, get on the coach … that’s the routine. What’s making you so different to everyone else, eh?”
“Because I didn’t go for a piss, right! That’s what’s making me different. And if we don’t pull over…” Connor stopped speaking.
“Which we’re not!” shouted another voice, “so you’ll what?”
Connor lowered his voice slightly from the previous exchanges, so that his comment was not heard by as many of the other lads.
“I’ll be in serious danger of wetting myself!”
=========================
During the next half an hour, as the entire convoy trundled along the motorway, the minibus was littered with empty sandwich packs and plastic wrapping, with empty and half-full bottles of water and juice laying on the seats. Several of the squaddies had nodded off to sleep and lots of jackets were strewn across the backs of the chairs. Legs were stretched out in all directions, some almost intertwined with those of the lads in the neighbouring seats, as they all tried to find comfortable positions. A couple had removed their shoes completely to reveal their fawn-coloured socks as their feet nestled together contentedly.
In one of the window seats, Connor was wide awake and wide-eyed. His feeling of anxiety had increased to a level he was unused to as he contemplated his predicament. The last 30 minutes or so had been as uncomfortable as he could remember experiencing. Every jolt of the minibus had made him wince as the fullness of his bladder was exacerbated. Standing perfectly still on a parade ground with an aching bladder was manageable. No movement meant no constant reminders, but on this minibus, every bump in the road and small lurch to the side sent waves of discomfort coursing through his tummy and forced his bladder muscles to contract more tightly.
Unable to stretch out his legs for fear of making his predicament worse, he was sitting upright with his knees either pressed together or gently knocking against each other. He didn’t want to fold his arms in case that added to the pressure on his stomach, but he didn’t really know what to do with his hands. He couldn’t sit back far enough to be able to get them in his pockets and he was tempted to sit on his hands, but that left him feeling a bit exposed. What he really wanted was to be able to squeeze his crotch to provide some relief, but that would just be embarrassing if anyone noticed.
He knew that containing his predicament as he was doing would not be an option for the next ninety minutes. Things had got progressively worse since they set off and unless he found some solution to his dilemma, the next stages were going to be unthinkable. He had to do something.
“Oi, where are you going?”
“What are you doing mate?”
Connor had few concerns about disturbing his sleeping neighbours as he clambered over them in ungainly fashion. The minibus was small and cramped with no proper aisle, just a space between the seats which was occupied by an array of legs and feet. But Connor’s destination was just a few yards further forward, where the sergeant was in the front seat next to the driver.
“Sarge, we need to make a stop!”
Connor’s voice was a surprise to the sergeant who had been sitting with his eyes restfully closed, although not asleep. He looked genuinely surprised at what he had heard.
“Sarge, please, we’re going to have to find a way to stop, to pull over somewhere!”
“What are you talking about? I told you, there’s no stopping, we’re in a convoy. And anyway, we’re on the motorway, what’s the matter with you?”
“Sarge, I need to go to the toilet like you wouldn’t believe. I’m absolutely bursting!”
The sergeant looked blankly back, “Well what do you want me to do about it?”
Connor lowered his voice to almost a whisper.
“Sarge, I’m going to wet myself!”
Although he was irritated beyond belief, the sergeant was not totally unsympathetic to the obvious predicament of one of his troop.
“Look lad, you might be on the verge of embarrassing yourself, but there’s nothing we can do about it. What do you expect us to do – pull over a dozen coaches onto the hard shoulder so you can have a pee? Be realistic lad, there’s no way we are going to make a stop for something as trivial as you needing a toilet break. You’re just going to have to go back to your seat and sit tight until we get back – or find some other way to deal with your situation!”
“Sarge, it’s not trivial” replied Connor, almost pleadingly and still trying to keep his voice down, “I’m serious, I’m going to piss in my trousers and pants!” and as if to confirm his situation, he clutched his crotch and squeezed himself through the khaki material.
“I’m sorry lad, go back to your seat and deal with it.”
=========================
Despite the lowering of voices, it was fairly apparent to those in the seats behind what was going on.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“I think he needs a wee-wee!”
“Blimey, it’s like taking a kid on an outing!”
“You’d think it was already running down his leg the way he’s making such a flipping fuss!”
Connor clambered back to his seat.
“Did you ask for a piss-stop mate?”
“There’s no way they’re stopping for you to have a slash!”
But a further comment of ‘shut your eyes … try and get some sleep … take your mind off your bladder!’ caused Connor to react furiously.
“For Fuck’s Sake! I’m going to fucking wet myself! I’m about to do it in my fucking pants!”
There was momentary silence in the minibus as Connor sat down in his seat and bent forwards, clamping his thighs together and forgetting dignity, he plunged his hand between the tops of his legs and held himself tightly, before letting out a groan as he swayed his upper body back and forth.
“Bloody Hell! He is going to piss himself!”
“Isn’t there anything for him to do it in?”
“What about the bottles? Is there an empty one?”
“The tops don’t come off mate, they’re too small anyway!”
“What about a plastic bag?”
“Nah, the little ones with the sausage rolls in are too small, and they’ve got holes in!”
“Hey, what about someone’s shoe? There are some discarded shoes lying around!”
“Fuck off, he ain’t pissing in my shoe!”
“What about his own shoes?”
“We need a boot. A shoe won’t hold enough, it’ll end up going all over the bloody floor!”
“It’ll all be over the floor anyway if he wets himself!”
=========================
Another 15 minutes passed and it was difficult for anyone inside the stale minibus to concentrate on anything other than the young squaddie hunched over in his seat in anguished discomfort.
Connor was frantically banging his knees together and his shoulders were rocking as he fidgeted about on the chair, sliding his backside back and forth. His ankles were tightly crossed and his left hand was continually rubbing along the top of his left thigh.
Nobody could see his face, but if they had, they’d have seen Connor’s lips trembling and his eyes watering. He had experienced embarrassing moments before in his life, but nothing quite like this – he was literally on the verge of going to the toilet in his trousers in front of everyone.
“Sarge” called out Griff, “sarge, we really have got a major problem back here. Connor is actually going to piss himself in a minute, have a look at him for yourself!”
The sergeant turned around and reacted loudly with exasperated frustration, “I’m an army sergeant, not a frigging nanny! What do you expect me to do? How many times do I have to say it’s not possible to stop the convoy. If he wets himself, he wets himself. I’m sorry, but that’s the reality. He’ll have to go in his trousers!”
“Oh God!” Connor heard the words as clearly as everyone else inside the minibus and he pressed his legs together even more tightly than before.
The pain in his stomach was excruciating and he was experiencing wave after wave of agonising spasms in his bladder, each one more and more urgent.
Macca leaned over and put his hand on Connor’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Look mate, you know we’d help you out if we could, but there’s nothing anyone can do for you. If you genuinely can’t hold it in, you’ll just have to … well, let it out, in your pants like.”
“Oh God!” Connor repeated himself, “I’m just going to have to do it!”
Macca looked up and unintentionally addressed all the other squaddies.
“He’s going to have an accident!”
There were some sympathetic looks and utterances, although there were also groans of disgust.
“Oh fuck, he’s gonna piss on the bus, isn’t he?”
“Jeez, he’s going to do it all over the floor!”
“Can’t he lob it out the window instead of pissing in here?”
The sergeant heard the final comment and spun around in his seat.
“Nobody is pissing out of the window!” he shouted sternly, “look, it’s an impossible situation. Just deal with it, all of you, the best you can.”
There was another disgruntled voice from the back, “We’ve still got nearly an hour left on here, if we’ve got piss swimming all over the floor, this bus is going to be stinking by the time we arrive.”
Whilst another voice warned, “Get your shoes back on everyone, unless you want soggy socks!”
=========================
Remarkably, another ten minutes passed and little had changed. All eyes were still fixed on the window seat where Connor was contorted into an unnatural body shape, desperately trying to contain himself despite his agonising pain which was now seemingly engulfing his entire body. But he could feel himself gradually getting closer and closer to the moment when he would no longer be able to control his distended bladder. Every few seconds, he could sense a twinge which made it feel like he was starting to urinate, then he managed to stop himself, only to feel the same sensation returning with a vengeance a few moments later.
His time was nearly up and the battle was almost lost.
Connor turned his head slightly to the left, displaying his flushed face for the first time, as he spoke to whoever was alongside him, although he had no idea who he was addressing in a near-whisper.
“Mate, I’m going to have to wet myself!”
Macca bent forwards so that his head was slightly closer to Connor’s face.
“Okay mate, if it happens, so be it. Try not to if you can help it, though”
Connor looked distraught, “I can’t help it!” he mumbled, “I’m going to go in my pants”
Macca turned round, looked at all the other squaddies, and shrugged his shoulders.
=========================
During the next few minutes, Connor could feel his resistance weakening. The discomfort was so bad that he knew he was going to urinate at any moment. Everything around his abdomen was throbbing and his tummy muscles were starting to contract as a prelude to being eased into submission. He was still sitting bent forwards and as the critical moment arrived, he consciously started to relax as he felt his bladder start to give way. It was almost a surreal moment as he was letting himself do something so humiliating – and yet remarkably, for several seconds, nothing seemed to happen.
He was so conditioned to not urinate whilst sitting in his seat that although he could feel his whole body easing in anticipation of the impending relief he was about to experience, the release of his urine just wasn’t happening. For a brief moment, the pain intensified as his muscles fought a battle with each other, but suddenly, the greater need won out and Connor felt his backside getting hot.
He wasn’t actually aware that he’d started to piss, but the warmth rapidly spread underneath his bum and the hot sensation surged over both sides of his arse cheeks. He gasped slightly as he felt the scorching sensation sear up to the lowest part of his back and within no more than a couple of seconds, his balls became swamped by the most intense heat and a feeling of silky warmth and stickiness.
He wasn’t aware of anything running down his legs, although the spread of hot urine was surging all over his upper thighs as the uncontrollable flow desperately sought an escape from the confines of Connor’s underpants – and suddenly, it found it. Almost instantaneously, streams began to weave their way down the backs of his lower legs, trickling through the hairs on his shins and down the backs of his calves. That sensation of warmth running down his legs was certain confirmation that Connor was wetting himself. There was no escaping that awful feeling as the dribbles streamed through his socks and over his shoes.
“Oh Fucking Hell, Look!”
“He’s having a fucking piss!”
The evidence was very apparent as little trickles dripped out of the bottom of Connor’s elasticated Khaki trouser cuffs and his beige socks began to darken with wetness as think streaks started to mark his socks and the warm wetness seeped inside his shoes.
“He’s wetting himself!”
Between Connor’s shiny black shoes, a small pool was forming and it quickly began to turn into a puddle which ran beneath the soles of his shoes and expanded into little rivulets running along the floor of the minibus in several different directions.
“Sarge, he’s done it in his trousers!”
Connor sat in his seat without moving, unable to stop the torrential jet scorching into his underpants and literally pouring down his legs until it reached his shoes and socks and spread around his feet in a puddle which was weaving away across the floor of the minibus.
“Jesus! It’s going fucking everywhere! He’s pissing like a camel! Oh, I can smell it, it stinks!”
As the flow gently began to ease off with a cooler and more clammy feel, Connor lifted his hands to his face, then placed them on his head and gently relaxed his tensed-up shoulders.
“Fuck! I’ve fucking wet myself!”
=========================
In the bar in Split, the scaffolding lads were listening agog, in absolute disbelief as Connor finished relating his astonishing tale.
“Man, I don’t know what to say, that is bleeding incredible!” said Joe as he broke the silence.
“That’s a confession and half, mate!” added Will.
Aaron pressed for more though, “So, what, you had to sit like that for the rest of the journey?”
Connor nodded, “You know what made it even worse though? The army used to issue us with a few pairs of underpants. Most of us bought our own but sometimes I’d wear the army issue ones and that’s what I had on that day. They were basically white y-fronts but they had a thick gusset and where the crotch got so wet, they literally remained sodden due to the thickness, so every time I moved it squeezed out a bit more piss. Even when we finally got back and got off the minibus, it was still running down my legs when I walked.
“I’m surprised you stayed in afterwards, I reckon I’d have walked if that had happened to me!” suggested Jack, “how do you even deal with pissing yourself in the army?”
“I was only in for about another four months before I had a voluntary discharge” said Connor.
“As opposed to an involuntary discharge in your pants!” replied Joe, to raucous laughter.
“Well that certainly runs Danny’s exploits close, that’s for sure!” announced Jack.
Danny sneered, “Runs me close? Are you fucking joking? That knocks mine right out of the water!”
=========================
Later that evening, as they were meandering their way back to the hotel, Danny found himself walking alongside Jay.
“Well that was some fucking confession from Connor, pissing his pants like that and then telling everyone about it!”
“Some blokes have got no shame, have they?” grinned Jay.
Danny looked down at the ground as he finally felt able to broach the subject after a few years of awkwardly ignoring the subject.
“Hey mate, we’ll have to have a chat about what happened to us in that taxi sometime.”
“Hmm” mumbled Jay, as he also looked at the floor.
It was three months after Danny’s accidents at the fairground and during the subsequent police incident following Dawn’s workplace event and he was still getting disapproving comments from his girlfriend about what had happened and her embarrassing explanation to her senior managers. So when the opportunity came for Danny to join his work-mates on a long weekend in Split, Croatia, he jumped at the chance.
The six lads who travelled along with Danny were Jack, Joe, Will, Jay, Aaron and Connor. Apart from the latter two, who’d joined a bit later, they’d all worked together for a number of years and were now all close mates, and so were looking forward to a good time away.
Unsurprisingly, several beers were downed in the departure lounge and when the group boarded, there were more than a few pairs of eyes stealing glances at the locked toilet. The plane sat on the runway for around 20 minutes before slowly taxing along the runway path for seemingly ages, and those beers were starting to have an effect. But unusually, it wasn’t Danny who was faring badly this time. Instead, the most discomfort was being felt by Will who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He was sitting rigidly in his seat and constantly looking to the front of the plane where the toilets were located, whilst he was jigging his legs back and forth as he sat awkwardly.
“You alright there, mate?” asked Joe, who was sitting alongside him in the aisle seat.
“No, I’m not” replied Will testily, “I’m busting to go for a sodding piss!”
“Yeah, I could do with one when those bogs open” grinned Joe, adding, “I’ll let you go first though!”
“Christ mate, I’m telling you, I might have to break the rules in a minute and make a dash for it. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to last out.”
Joe grinned more broadly and looked to his left, where Connor, Aaron and Jack were sitting in the opposite row, “Will’s going to break ranks in a second, boys. Nobody get in his way when those bogs get opened, he’s going to be running with the blinkers on!”
Aaron leaned forward and looked across, “Blimey, he looks like he’s going to piss himself!”
Jack turned back to the row behind and peered over the top of the seats to see Danny and Jay sitting side by side, “Do you need a wee-wee, Danny lad?”
“Yeah, a bit, why?” replied Danny.
“Cos you’re gonna have to cross your legs and hang on. Will’s bagged the toilet first – that’s if he hasn’t been in his pants before they open them up!”
Jay raised himself from his seat and looked over at Will and Joe, “Oh he’s busting, you can tell. I’ve never seen Will like that before!”
Danny remained firmly in his seat, “I’m not looking, he’ll make me want to go too. I’m alright at the moment, but if I see him gagging for one, it’ll make me have to fucking go too!”
Joe leaned over again, “What’s happened Danny? It’s usually you who’s dying for a piss and nearly wetting your knickers!!”
“Nearly!” laughed Jack, “that’s an understatement!”
But in his seat, as the plane finally got airborne, Danny was feeling slightly self-conscious as he cast his mind back a number of years to his holiday to Portugal with Dawn and his mum and dad, when he’d got himself into a terrible state on the plane and come desperately close to peeing himself. He remembered the way he had felt as he frantically tried to hold on, whilst getting genuinely close to letting go in his pants. He tried not to think about what had happened when he’d finally made it into the arrivals building, where he’d spectacularly wet himself at the age of 23 in front of everyone, including his parents and his girlfriend.
=========================
“Mate, I’m going to fucking wet myself in a minute!”
Will was bent forwards in his seat with his right hand plunged deeply between his legs which were clamped together, “I can’t hold this much longer!”
“If you think you’re gonna piss yourself, just imagine all those birds waiting for you on Split beach!” grinned Joe unhelpfully, “that’ll help you hold on!”
“Jesus!” groaned Will as he lifted the heels of his feet off the floor, “Man, I’m as close to weeing as I’ve ever been. I’m never gonna make it in time. I don’t know what I’m going to do, mate!”
“Is he alright?” asked a concerned-looking Connor from the opposite row.
“I don’t think he is” replied Joe, “he says he’s about to wet his drawers!”
“Bloody Hell!” said Aaron, “what’s he going to do if he pisses himself?”
Suddenly, with a loud ping, the seat-belt signs went off. Several passengers started to get up from their seats, but Will was clambering past Joe and beginning to hobble to the front of the plane. A number of other still-seated passengers were watching in astonishment as Will shuffled along the aisle, bent slightly forward and keeping his legs pushed together as much as he could manage. It was obvious to everyone that the 20-something bloke was desperate to go to the toilet and several heads were leaning out into the gangway to watch the spectacle.
Joe and the others were watching equally as intrigued as Will reached the front of the plane toilets, where several others were also heading and just as he got there, another guy was about to close the door behind him as the first user. Will grabbed the door before it could be closed and there was a brief exchange between the two before the other bloke shrugged and stepped back, allowing Will to almost fall into the toilet.
Despite also needing to go, Joe remained in his seat, watching with amusement as a queue of about a dozen people formed outside the toilets, imagining if Will had had to wait in the queue! It was a good few minutes before Will emerged from the toilet, shaking hands gratefully with the guy who had let him push in, and he made his way back along to his row, where Joe stood up to let him past.
“What did you do to make him let you go first?” he asked, “threaten him or something?”
Will was still slightly red-faced from the strain of his ordeal, as he shook his head gently.
“I just told him I was doing it in my pants and it was starting to run down my leg, I almost wasn’t joking either, mate! Fuck me, that was close!”
=========================
On the Saturday evening, the group had gathered on the promenade outside a hotel bar in Split, enjoying the warm evening weather with trays of drinks, having enjoyed a fulsome meal earlier on. Everyone was relaxed and as well as reflecting on the laid-back events of the day’s boat trip, they were also in humorous mood, with Jack keen to go back over what had happened on the flight.
“So come on then Will lad, tell us the truth, how close were you to having pissy pants on the plane?”
Will puffed out his cheeks and put his pint down on the table.
“Trust me mate, I will never, ever – and I mean never – come closer to wetting meself as long as I live. Two or three more minutes and it was happening in me pants. That’s the god’s honest truth!”
“You seriously would have wet yourself?!” Aaron seemed genuinely shocked.
“Yep, I would have just pissed in my jeans, probably in me seat!”
“And if that bloke hadn’t let you use the toilet before him…?” questioned Aaron.
“I’d have done it standing outside the toilet! No joke lads, I was as close to pissing myself as it’s possible to be. I honestly thought I was done for and that I was going to wet me fucking pants!”
The lads were all laughing raucously.
“You do realise that weeing yourself would have meant that Danny-Boy here would have lost his status as our own Mr Piss Pants, don’t you. We couldn’t have two blokes in the same working group who’d both wet themselves, could we now!”
“And Danny’s done it more than once too!”
“Three times isn’t it Danny, mate?”
Danny made no comment and just pulled a face – he’d heard it all so many times before that it was like water off a duck’s back by now.
Aaron grabbed hold of Danny’s arm, “I’ve seen you do it once, and that was embarrassing enough, but three fucking times! How the fuck can that happen to a fully grown bloke?
“It happens to Danny!” laughed Jack, “he pisses wherever and whenever he wants, don’t you mate?”
But Aaron wasn’t about to let the subject drop easily.
“Did you used to piss yourself as a youngster then?”
“Fuck off!” replied Danny, “no I fucking didn’t, they’ve just been accidents, that’s all!”
“I’ve never ever wet myself though” said Aaron, “and I bet no-one else has either.”
He looked at Joe, “Have you?”
“No I bloody haven’t you cheeky sod!”
“Jack, what about you? Have you ever had ‘ an accident’, as Danny puts it?”
“Not a chance mate, not a fucking chance! Well, maybe deliberately, but no, I never have!”
“And before you ask me too, apart from coming so close on that plane, no, I’ve never pissed me pants either!” interrupted Will.
Aaron looked around the table at who was left unquestioned.
“Jay mate, what about you? Ever wet yourself?”
Jay instantly felt his cheeks redden and desperately wanted to avert his eyes but he knew that he daren’t do so, although he could sense Danny looking at him and he made sure that he didn’t glance back across at him.
“No, of course not!” he said quickly.
“You sure? You seem a bit uncertain there, mate!” grinned Will.
“No!” snapped back Jay without hesitation, “Not me, I’ve never fucking done it!”
Jay wasn’t aware of whether Danny was still looking, but he made sure he didn’t make eye contact.
Aaron tipped back on his chair.
“So, it looks like you’re alone in your shame Danny lad, unless Connor here’s going to tell us some juicy confession about how he’s wee’d himself in his knickers!”
They all looked over at Connor, who was sitting back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
“Well actually, as it happens – do you want to hear a story?”
=========================
Connor Barron was 26-years-old and had worked as a scaffolder with P.K.McIndoe’s for the past four years, prior to which he had been in the British Army, serving almost three years after joining up when he was a 19-year-old. Not particularly well-built, he was nonetheless strong and fit, with his humour and enthusiasm for work making him a popular member of the scaffolding crew.
Those traits had been necessary in the forces, where he had found his niche after drifting around in the previous couple of years after leaving school. He had loved his time in the army. Never showing any ambition to progress beyond the lower ranks, he earned himself a reputation as a loyal and reliable colleague, becoming well-known for providing support and assistance to the newer recruits.
Based at Pirbright in Surrey, he was in what proved to be his final year when his entire platoon was selected to carry out ceremonial duties in Nottingham. Several units travelled by coach as they were due to participate over a long weekend, but Connor’s small unit was only required for the day and so they travelled by train, which was a welcome break from stuffy and uncomfortable coach trips.
The day itself went well but was a long and tiring event, but as the weary troops began to prepare themselves for the return journey, they were given the surprise news that they were to travel back by minibus in a convoy with the coaches.
=========================
The 18-seater minibus was not the most comfortable, with little room for the squaddies to stretch their aching legs and with little sign of refreshments there was considerable discussion about how they were to be fed, despite the fact they had been provided with wholesome lunches at midday.
“I hope we’re stopping for some grub, I’m hungry now and I’ll be starving by the time we get back”
“Probably a stop off at the services, I reckon. They’ll let us grab some sandwiches and drinks”
“That’d be good, I hope it’s a proper service station, I really need a wee”
The last comment came from 22-year-old Connor, who was sitting in a window seat in one of the middle rows. He was sitting with his feet pushed under the seat in front and slightly to his right in the chair, so that his head was against the window, watching the countryside pass by, albeit slowly.
“I wish we’d get a move on too, we’re crawling along here. I could do with a toilet stop badly.”
But before anyone could respond to Connor, there was an announcement from the sergeant in the front seat. “Okay lads, listen carefully. As you know, we’re travelling in a convoy all the way back so there won’t be an opportunity to stop. So I’ve got a supply of bottled water and orange juice, along with sandwiches and sausage rolls, which I’ll be passing round in the next few minutes. Don’t guzzle them, there’s plenty of them, but let’s try and make sure we’ve got enough for a second dish-out later on. We’ve got a good couple of hours ahead of us so save some for another hand-out.”
There was a murmur of approval about the refreshments, but Connor was unconcerned about the food and drink. He had pulled his feet back and sat upright in his seat. He had pretty much switched off from what was being said after he’d heard ‘there won’t be an opportunity to stop’.
“Not stopping? Is he serious? We’ve got to make a stop, I need a piss!”
“Bad luck then” a voice came from behind him, “it’s not going to be your day, is it?”
Connor tried to turn his head back to address whoever had spoken to him, but the twisting of his body made him aware of the fullness in his bladder as he felt a bloated sensation around his midriff.
“No-one told me we weren’t stopping! They always have a piss-stop on these sort of things! We can’t be expected to wait all the way back to barracks!”
“Course we can be expected to wait, we do what we’re told, mate. You know that. How come you didn’t have a jimmy riddle before we left?”
Connor was horrified at the prospect of a two-hour non-stop journey, “Because I didn’t know we weren’t fucking stopping, that’s why!”
“It’s a convoy mate” came another voice, “no-one’s stopping, like it or not. There’s no way they’re going to be pulling over a dozen or so coaches and carriers just so you can get out and have a piss!”
“Well what the fuck am I going to do?” queried Connor.
“Hold it in I guess! Unless you want to do something unthinkable!” came the reply, prompting a ripple of laughter, “or piss in one of the orange juice bottles if there’s no other option!”
“God, I might just have to use a bottle!” winced Connor.
Before any other exchanges could take place, the sergeant announced that the refreshments were on their way round, and as the packed sandwiches were handed out, someone laughed and called out, “whoever said they might be pissing in the orange juice bottle better think again!”
as they all saw the pack of bottles with fixed flip-up straw-type lids.
“Blimey! Even if you could get the top off, nobody’s getting their willy to fit in that sized bottle neck anyway!” prompting a loud peal of laughter.
“Oh Christ! What am I going to do?” asked a panicky Connor, “I’m dying for the toilet, there’s no way I’ll last out all the way back! How the fuck am I going to deal with this without pissing myself?”
=========================
The group began to dive into the sandwiches and sausage rolls as they started to relax from the pressures of the day. Ceremonial duties were part and parcel of the army and whilst the actual events were often enjoyable, the build-up, training, travel and waiting around generally made the days long and tiresome, and this had been no exception. But the journey home was often something to look forward to.
British Army No.2 dress was the order of the day, consisting of khaki jacket and trousers, a light fawn coloured shirt and buffed black shoes. During the event, peaked khaki caps were worn, along with a white ceremonial belt – although the latter two items were almost instantly discarded by most as soon as the event was over.
Along with the majority of the others, Connor had put his cap and belt on the rack above the seats and he had undone his jacket with highly-polished buttons . Some of the lads were unlacing their shoes to help with their aching feet, but Connor had more pressing matters to contend with.
“Here, have one of these” offered Griff, a Welsh lad who was sitting adjacent to Connor, as he held out a pack of small sausage rolls.
“Sod the bloody food” Connor replied without even looking, “I need to go to the toilet like you wouldn’t believe!”
“Just for a piss, I hope!” grinned Macca from the seat in front.
“Of course for a piss!” snapped back Connor, “if we don’t stop, I’ll… well, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“You’re going to be struggling by the time we get back then mate, another two hours maybe”
“I’m struggling now!” replied Connor, “Fuck’s sake, I don’t half want to go bad!”
“Are you lot alright back there?” called out the sergeant from the front seat.
“We are sarge” shouted back Keano, “but Connor’s not – he’s dying for a wee-wee!”
“Tell him to cross his legs then!” came back the response.
There was a ripple of laughter, but Connor was not amused.
“This is fucking ridiculous, how can we not have a fucking stop? I’m not going to last without having a piss-break, someone’s got to do something about it, surely?”
“Mate, there’s about ten coachloads of squaddies in this convoy and I bet no-one’s moaning as much as you are. Finish the parade, have a wee, get on the coach … that’s the routine. What’s making you so different to everyone else, eh?”
“Because I didn’t go for a piss, right! That’s what’s making me different. And if we don’t pull over…” Connor stopped speaking.
“Which we’re not!” shouted another voice, “so you’ll what?”
Connor lowered his voice slightly from the previous exchanges, so that his comment was not heard by as many of the other lads.
“I’ll be in serious danger of wetting myself!”
=========================
During the next half an hour, as the entire convoy trundled along the motorway, the minibus was littered with empty sandwich packs and plastic wrapping, with empty and half-full bottles of water and juice laying on the seats. Several of the squaddies had nodded off to sleep and lots of jackets were strewn across the backs of the chairs. Legs were stretched out in all directions, some almost intertwined with those of the lads in the neighbouring seats, as they all tried to find comfortable positions. A couple had removed their shoes completely to reveal their fawn-coloured socks as their feet nestled together contentedly.
In one of the window seats, Connor was wide awake and wide-eyed. His feeling of anxiety had increased to a level he was unused to as he contemplated his predicament. The last 30 minutes or so had been as uncomfortable as he could remember experiencing. Every jolt of the minibus had made him wince as the fullness of his bladder was exacerbated. Standing perfectly still on a parade ground with an aching bladder was manageable. No movement meant no constant reminders, but on this minibus, every bump in the road and small lurch to the side sent waves of discomfort coursing through his tummy and forced his bladder muscles to contract more tightly.
Unable to stretch out his legs for fear of making his predicament worse, he was sitting upright with his knees either pressed together or gently knocking against each other. He didn’t want to fold his arms in case that added to the pressure on his stomach, but he didn’t really know what to do with his hands. He couldn’t sit back far enough to be able to get them in his pockets and he was tempted to sit on his hands, but that left him feeling a bit exposed. What he really wanted was to be able to squeeze his crotch to provide some relief, but that would just be embarrassing if anyone noticed.
He knew that containing his predicament as he was doing would not be an option for the next ninety minutes. Things had got progressively worse since they set off and unless he found some solution to his dilemma, the next stages were going to be unthinkable. He had to do something.
“Oi, where are you going?”
“What are you doing mate?”
Connor had few concerns about disturbing his sleeping neighbours as he clambered over them in ungainly fashion. The minibus was small and cramped with no proper aisle, just a space between the seats which was occupied by an array of legs and feet. But Connor’s destination was just a few yards further forward, where the sergeant was in the front seat next to the driver.
“Sarge, we need to make a stop!”
Connor’s voice was a surprise to the sergeant who had been sitting with his eyes restfully closed, although not asleep. He looked genuinely surprised at what he had heard.
“Sarge, please, we’re going to have to find a way to stop, to pull over somewhere!”
“What are you talking about? I told you, there’s no stopping, we’re in a convoy. And anyway, we’re on the motorway, what’s the matter with you?”
“Sarge, I need to go to the toilet like you wouldn’t believe. I’m absolutely bursting!”
The sergeant looked blankly back, “Well what do you want me to do about it?”
Connor lowered his voice to almost a whisper.
“Sarge, I’m going to wet myself!”
Although he was irritated beyond belief, the sergeant was not totally unsympathetic to the obvious predicament of one of his troop.
“Look lad, you might be on the verge of embarrassing yourself, but there’s nothing we can do about it. What do you expect us to do – pull over a dozen coaches onto the hard shoulder so you can have a pee? Be realistic lad, there’s no way we are going to make a stop for something as trivial as you needing a toilet break. You’re just going to have to go back to your seat and sit tight until we get back – or find some other way to deal with your situation!”
“Sarge, it’s not trivial” replied Connor, almost pleadingly and still trying to keep his voice down, “I’m serious, I’m going to piss in my trousers and pants!” and as if to confirm his situation, he clutched his crotch and squeezed himself through the khaki material.
“I’m sorry lad, go back to your seat and deal with it.”
=========================
Despite the lowering of voices, it was fairly apparent to those in the seats behind what was going on.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“I think he needs a wee-wee!”
“Blimey, it’s like taking a kid on an outing!”
“You’d think it was already running down his leg the way he’s making such a flipping fuss!”
Connor clambered back to his seat.
“Did you ask for a piss-stop mate?”
“There’s no way they’re stopping for you to have a slash!”
But a further comment of ‘shut your eyes … try and get some sleep … take your mind off your bladder!’ caused Connor to react furiously.
“For Fuck’s Sake! I’m going to fucking wet myself! I’m about to do it in my fucking pants!”
There was momentary silence in the minibus as Connor sat down in his seat and bent forwards, clamping his thighs together and forgetting dignity, he plunged his hand between the tops of his legs and held himself tightly, before letting out a groan as he swayed his upper body back and forth.
“Bloody Hell! He is going to piss himself!”
“Isn’t there anything for him to do it in?”
“What about the bottles? Is there an empty one?”
“The tops don’t come off mate, they’re too small anyway!”
“What about a plastic bag?”
“Nah, the little ones with the sausage rolls in are too small, and they’ve got holes in!”
“Hey, what about someone’s shoe? There are some discarded shoes lying around!”
“Fuck off, he ain’t pissing in my shoe!”
“What about his own shoes?”
“We need a boot. A shoe won’t hold enough, it’ll end up going all over the bloody floor!”
“It’ll all be over the floor anyway if he wets himself!”
=========================
Another 15 minutes passed and it was difficult for anyone inside the stale minibus to concentrate on anything other than the young squaddie hunched over in his seat in anguished discomfort.
Connor was frantically banging his knees together and his shoulders were rocking as he fidgeted about on the chair, sliding his backside back and forth. His ankles were tightly crossed and his left hand was continually rubbing along the top of his left thigh.
Nobody could see his face, but if they had, they’d have seen Connor’s lips trembling and his eyes watering. He had experienced embarrassing moments before in his life, but nothing quite like this – he was literally on the verge of going to the toilet in his trousers in front of everyone.
“Sarge” called out Griff, “sarge, we really have got a major problem back here. Connor is actually going to piss himself in a minute, have a look at him for yourself!”
The sergeant turned around and reacted loudly with exasperated frustration, “I’m an army sergeant, not a frigging nanny! What do you expect me to do? How many times do I have to say it’s not possible to stop the convoy. If he wets himself, he wets himself. I’m sorry, but that’s the reality. He’ll have to go in his trousers!”
“Oh God!” Connor heard the words as clearly as everyone else inside the minibus and he pressed his legs together even more tightly than before.
The pain in his stomach was excruciating and he was experiencing wave after wave of agonising spasms in his bladder, each one more and more urgent.
Macca leaned over and put his hand on Connor’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Look mate, you know we’d help you out if we could, but there’s nothing anyone can do for you. If you genuinely can’t hold it in, you’ll just have to … well, let it out, in your pants like.”
“Oh God!” Connor repeated himself, “I’m just going to have to do it!”
Macca looked up and unintentionally addressed all the other squaddies.
“He’s going to have an accident!”
There were some sympathetic looks and utterances, although there were also groans of disgust.
“Oh fuck, he’s gonna piss on the bus, isn’t he?”
“Jeez, he’s going to do it all over the floor!”
“Can’t he lob it out the window instead of pissing in here?”
The sergeant heard the final comment and spun around in his seat.
“Nobody is pissing out of the window!” he shouted sternly, “look, it’s an impossible situation. Just deal with it, all of you, the best you can.”
There was another disgruntled voice from the back, “We’ve still got nearly an hour left on here, if we’ve got piss swimming all over the floor, this bus is going to be stinking by the time we arrive.”
Whilst another voice warned, “Get your shoes back on everyone, unless you want soggy socks!”
=========================
Remarkably, another ten minutes passed and little had changed. All eyes were still fixed on the window seat where Connor was contorted into an unnatural body shape, desperately trying to contain himself despite his agonising pain which was now seemingly engulfing his entire body. But he could feel himself gradually getting closer and closer to the moment when he would no longer be able to control his distended bladder. Every few seconds, he could sense a twinge which made it feel like he was starting to urinate, then he managed to stop himself, only to feel the same sensation returning with a vengeance a few moments later.
His time was nearly up and the battle was almost lost.
Connor turned his head slightly to the left, displaying his flushed face for the first time, as he spoke to whoever was alongside him, although he had no idea who he was addressing in a near-whisper.
“Mate, I’m going to have to wet myself!”
Macca bent forwards so that his head was slightly closer to Connor’s face.
“Okay mate, if it happens, so be it. Try not to if you can help it, though”
Connor looked distraught, “I can’t help it!” he mumbled, “I’m going to go in my pants”
Macca turned round, looked at all the other squaddies, and shrugged his shoulders.
=========================
During the next few minutes, Connor could feel his resistance weakening. The discomfort was so bad that he knew he was going to urinate at any moment. Everything around his abdomen was throbbing and his tummy muscles were starting to contract as a prelude to being eased into submission. He was still sitting bent forwards and as the critical moment arrived, he consciously started to relax as he felt his bladder start to give way. It was almost a surreal moment as he was letting himself do something so humiliating – and yet remarkably, for several seconds, nothing seemed to happen.
He was so conditioned to not urinate whilst sitting in his seat that although he could feel his whole body easing in anticipation of the impending relief he was about to experience, the release of his urine just wasn’t happening. For a brief moment, the pain intensified as his muscles fought a battle with each other, but suddenly, the greater need won out and Connor felt his backside getting hot.
He wasn’t actually aware that he’d started to piss, but the warmth rapidly spread underneath his bum and the hot sensation surged over both sides of his arse cheeks. He gasped slightly as he felt the scorching sensation sear up to the lowest part of his back and within no more than a couple of seconds, his balls became swamped by the most intense heat and a feeling of silky warmth and stickiness.
He wasn’t aware of anything running down his legs, although the spread of hot urine was surging all over his upper thighs as the uncontrollable flow desperately sought an escape from the confines of Connor’s underpants – and suddenly, it found it. Almost instantaneously, streams began to weave their way down the backs of his lower legs, trickling through the hairs on his shins and down the backs of his calves. That sensation of warmth running down his legs was certain confirmation that Connor was wetting himself. There was no escaping that awful feeling as the dribbles streamed through his socks and over his shoes.
“Oh Fucking Hell, Look!”
“He’s having a fucking piss!”
The evidence was very apparent as little trickles dripped out of the bottom of Connor’s elasticated Khaki trouser cuffs and his beige socks began to darken with wetness as think streaks started to mark his socks and the warm wetness seeped inside his shoes.
“He’s wetting himself!”
Between Connor’s shiny black shoes, a small pool was forming and it quickly began to turn into a puddle which ran beneath the soles of his shoes and expanded into little rivulets running along the floor of the minibus in several different directions.
“Sarge, he’s done it in his trousers!”
Connor sat in his seat without moving, unable to stop the torrential jet scorching into his underpants and literally pouring down his legs until it reached his shoes and socks and spread around his feet in a puddle which was weaving away across the floor of the minibus.
“Jesus! It’s going fucking everywhere! He’s pissing like a camel! Oh, I can smell it, it stinks!”
As the flow gently began to ease off with a cooler and more clammy feel, Connor lifted his hands to his face, then placed them on his head and gently relaxed his tensed-up shoulders.
“Fuck! I’ve fucking wet myself!”
=========================
In the bar in Split, the scaffolding lads were listening agog, in absolute disbelief as Connor finished relating his astonishing tale.
“Man, I don’t know what to say, that is bleeding incredible!” said Joe as he broke the silence.
“That’s a confession and half, mate!” added Will.
Aaron pressed for more though, “So, what, you had to sit like that for the rest of the journey?”
Connor nodded, “You know what made it even worse though? The army used to issue us with a few pairs of underpants. Most of us bought our own but sometimes I’d wear the army issue ones and that’s what I had on that day. They were basically white y-fronts but they had a thick gusset and where the crotch got so wet, they literally remained sodden due to the thickness, so every time I moved it squeezed out a bit more piss. Even when we finally got back and got off the minibus, it was still running down my legs when I walked.
“I’m surprised you stayed in afterwards, I reckon I’d have walked if that had happened to me!” suggested Jack, “how do you even deal with pissing yourself in the army?”
“I was only in for about another four months before I had a voluntary discharge” said Connor.
“As opposed to an involuntary discharge in your pants!” replied Joe, to raucous laughter.
“Well that certainly runs Danny’s exploits close, that’s for sure!” announced Jack.
Danny sneered, “Runs me close? Are you fucking joking? That knocks mine right out of the water!”
=========================
Later that evening, as they were meandering their way back to the hotel, Danny found himself walking alongside Jay.
“Well that was some fucking confession from Connor, pissing his pants like that and then telling everyone about it!”
“Some blokes have got no shame, have they?” grinned Jay.
Danny looked down at the ground as he finally felt able to broach the subject after a few years of awkwardly ignoring the subject.
“Hey mate, we’ll have to have a chat about what happened to us in that taxi sometime.”
“Hmm” mumbled Jay, as he also looked at the floor.
