an0nymous-p

[an0nymous-p]

guy who is a heavy sleeper being woken up by his bladder. sleepy and comfy, he just ignores it and tries to go back to sleep. as he drifts in and out of sleep, his need gets progressively more urgent, but so does his resolve to actually catch more solid sleep. subconsciously, he goes to hug his comforter between his legs, eventually ending up with it bunched up high between his thighs, his ankles crossed to help. he starts to squirm and rock back and forth, trying to suppress the need for a bit longer. the motions have his soft dick slowly drag inside his loose pyjama pants, providing a gentle friction that toon have him not so soft anymore. he ends squeezing his thighs and grinding, now not only as a way to hold back his need to relieve himself but also because it just feels good. having an erection does help him hold, so much so that he manages to fall back asleep for a while… until he awakes again, now positively desperate. he finds himself already humping the bunched up comforter, softly panting, when he comes to realize his predicament. he needs to go now. he’s still sleepy tho, sluggish from waking up, and also finding it hard to think, because of his pressing need, and also the jolts of pleasure coursing through his groin with every shift. he’s fully hard, hard and leaking precum in his pyjama pants. the urgency of the situation means he can’t just stop grinding or he fears he’ll lose control. if he was more awake, he’d trust himself to make it to the bathroom quickly, but he isn’t, and he also can’t deny his slightly delirious self that this feels good. unable to reason, all he can do is hold onto the comforter tighter so it’s pulled taught between his thighs, providing both much needed pressure to help his bladder, and pleasure that makes his eyes roll back behind his closed eyelids. he desperately humps the blanket, feeling his desperation heighten and his muscles weaken—he has no idea how ling he’s been holding like this, but it must’ve been a while for how tired he feels already. pissing the bed isn’t an option tho, so he continues and can only moan in pleasure at the friction on his hard, leaking dick. a particularly good thrust sends him twitching in near overstimulation, and he has to halt his motions for a moment. doing so is what makes him leak for the first time. the feeling of warmth blooming on his dick head makes him frantic, he immediately resumes his humping with urgency. his pyjamas are too rough on his sensitive skin now, threatening his very control, but he he does dare stop or slow slow. he yelps and his hips stutter when another leak escapes him, and then another, and then another. feeling the limits of his ability to approach, he starts humping with desperate and renewed vigour, only speeding up every time his muscles spasm and another spurts escapes him. through it all, the pulses of warmth make his precum-slick pyjamas feel good like nothing else on his throbbing erection. unable yo think of getting up and making mad dash for the toilet—unable to think at all—the guy only moans and gasps as he begins losing control, though he never stops trying to hold it. he’s not done having an accident, and trying not to, when the pleasure in his stomach reaches a peak. he leaks forcefully, gasps, twitches, and then ruts against the blanket in short little trusts, until he forgets everything about holding and can only chase his imminent orgasm. he comes like that, hot and intense, inside his pyjama pants. for a brief moment, he forgets all about his desperate need to piss and just lays there, grinding, milking it out, until the pleasure begins to recede and his desperation comes back all at once. he leaks, a strong spurt that hisses, and immediately doubles down on his frantic grinding, only, this time, the movement is nothing but overstimulating his sensitive dick, so soon after coming. it has the opposite intended affect, as the sensation makes him twitch and his exhausted muscles spasm, allowing more piss to escape him. he tries to cling to control, he really does, but it’s futile.

moaning from the harsh overstimulation, he doesn’t stop grinding, too far gone to reason that it’s no use, besides, it still feels good through the pain. with every rut, more piss leaks out of his dick, which refuses to fully soften under the constant stimulation. just like that, he slowly loses control of his bladder, until a near continuous stream is pouring out. elated, he continues to rub his hard dick through it. he doesn’t stop when the stream finally dims and stop, still turned on beyond relief. right away, he grinds to another orgasm, not satisfied until his dick is throbbing in his pants again and the pleasure overwhelms him.

while he lays in the aftermath, soaked and twitchy, his bladder throbs again, and he can’t help but moan as the very last drops escape him, feeling almost as good at the other type of relief he just got.

[an0nymous-p]

I love the idea of a vibrator with a remote in someone who's about to pee themselves.

You kinda have a remote detonator. With a push of a button, they pee themselves.

Also the idea of having a vibrator in me. And my partner is waiting for me to least expect it.

I'm just making dinner or something, my bladder is so full it's starting to ache. Doing the pee pee dance while I cook. And I'm periodically putting my hand between my legs to stop anything from happening. Leaking enough that there's a visible wet spot in my pants. And suddenly BAM. The vibrator is activated. I fall to my knees from pleasure and straining to not pee. But it doesn't work. And I began to pee. Unable to stop due to the vibration. Then I'm just left in a warm puddle.

[an0nymous-p]

bedwetting usually doesnt do much for me but the mental image of someone squirming and whining a little while theyre asleep because they have to pee so, so badly… maybe they’re having a dream about it… and then all of a sudden they go still and start wetting themselves… yeah thats. thats something for sure

[an0nymous-p]

Uhm,, I saw a minor just openly with a kink blog,,? I know you're 18 soon but please don't put yourself in danger like that,, you're putting the rest of us in danger too,, it doesn't matter if you post videos or not,, you're still really young and too young to be here,,

[an0nymous-p]

Hello! I'd love to see you answer 🩷 and 💚 for the slob game, please!

i answered 💚 here:

🩷) what aspect of slobs are the hottest to you?

here are the hottest things you can do for me as a slob:

- be disgustingly gassy. like.. frequent farts that also sound absolutely nasty and are vile smell-wise. make me question if you’re shitting yourself every time.

- be kinda arrogant about it? idk how else to say it but like… almost to a disrespectful degree of like ‘you’re gonna deal with me being like this and idc how you feel abt it’

- weirdly specific but someone who scratches themselves in front of me? like not little scratches, i’m talking hand deep in your pants going at it. hott.

- shitting in places you should NOT be shitting.

[an0nymous-p]

“how are you so gassy?”

“you have to fart? again?”

“you’re so loud!”

sorry. sorry. sorryyyyy

[an0nymous-p]

had to mute on call for this

[an0nymous-p]

Sometimes I’m shocked by what come out of lol ;)

[an0nymous-p]

Loveeeee fart vids where you can see someone’s asshole straining against the fabric. Unf

[an0nymous-p]

thinking about someone so fucking desperate to shit as they ride their partner’s thigh; guts gurgling and churning noisily as the other bounces their knee between their legs, smirking - knowing they’re about to burst. “hold it, baby.” and there’s an underlying threat, there - they have to hold it, else they can't come.

but soon it becomes too much, and tears pricking their eyes as they whine out a “mnghhh…” and give a deep groan of effort, and a gross, warm, bubbly fart starts to pour out of them. the smell hits them like a brick wall, and their partner smiles as loud splattering and bubbling sounds fill the room. they squirm, whimpering in embarrassment even if they cant help the little gasps n moans of relief slipping out of them. after a few seconds of that loud, gurgling rumble - a wet splurt of waste erupts from their ass, drips over their partner's thigh. a sense of defeat crashes over them, cheeks burning as they slump into their partner's arms - filth still leaking miserably out of their hole.

[an0nymous-p]

just thought of something I really like.

Imagine you got home and found your partner in bed watching TV. It's been a long day, so you take off your pants and get in bed next to them. All day, they have been teasing you via text, saying how much they wanna touch you and how turned on they are thinking about you, which you read over before driving home, your cunt dripping wet by the time you're home. Your hand wanders to their thigh, and you touch the inner side of it gently, caressing it as you internally beg them to touch you.

They look at you and smile, asking you what you want. You look at them as the words stick in your throat, eventually getting frustrated with yourself and gently grabbing their hand and placing it between your legs. "Wow," they coo. "You're so wet for me." You blush and look away before they begin rubbing you with their hand, your tdick hard as you feel their fingers graze over it. As they rub you, you begin to feel something heavy in your gut. Your stomach gurgles as you realize that you're gonna have to go to the bathroom very soon. But their fingers against you feel so very good, and you know if you keep going for a while longer then you'll cum.

You moan and whine as they touch you, swirling their finger over top your tdick, making your legs tremble. As they begin to rub faster you can feel as you're getting closer to cumming, your stomach gurgling in protest: You have to go. Now. You beg your body to hold it back as you feel the growing need to cum, only able to let out moans as you place your hand on your partner's forearm. "You're such a good boy moaning for me like that." They say.

Just as you get closer and closer, the more you feel the shit stuck inside of you try to force itself out of you. You clench and try to hold it back as you feel urgent, but your need to cum seems to overpower it. As you continue to moan and your partner continues to pleasure you, you feel as you creep closer and closer to orgasm. "Fuck, please please please..." you whine. "I'm gonna cum, fuck, I need to cum so bad." With your words your partner slows down to a slow rub before pressing their fingers up against you. "Please," you beg. "Please, baby, I need to cum so bad." You look into their eyes as they smirk at you, leaning down and meeting your lips with theirs.

That's when it happened. And it happened fast.

You moan loudly as they start rubbing again, feeling as your bowels contract and hot, loose shit is forced out of you. The feeling of the loose stool exiting you and the touch of your partner causes you to orgasm. Unable or perhaps unwilling to stop it, you continue to let the loose shit fill your boxers as you moan, feeling your partner thumbing your clit gently, making you feel overstimulated. You break the kiss and look up at them helplessly as your face flushes.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "I couldn't hold it. I just wanted to cum so, so bad." Your partner smiles at you.

"It's okay, baby. Sounds like your stomach was upset." They say as they slide their hand down lower and feel the soft, wet mess in your underwear. You let out a quiet moan, and they lean down to kiss you once more.

[an0nymous-p]

been thinking lately about a character starting off one morning with a little heavy feeling in their belly that advances over the hours into a very heavy feeling

their belly swells up like a balloon and they can hear gas gurgling around inside along with some watery sloshes but they still figure that it’s just bad gas trapped somewhere in their guts

but they’re getting so tired that all they want to do when they get home is lay down and sleep but their stomach is still so bloated and achy that they can’t get comfortable. so they just lie down on their bed and massage their painfully bloated tummy, huffing and moaning with discomfort the whole time while their bowels grumble and cramp

it takes a while before they manage to work the gas down lower in their intestines and they can rip a few loud, slightly wet farts. every fart is a little less pressure on their belly and they groan with relief every time, blasting out increasingly less intense farts until they’re letting out small, wet leaks of gas

they expect to feel better after expelling so much gas but they feel clammy and weak and a little queasy from the contractions in their guts. their belly still feels terribly over full though so they sigh and keep rubbing their tummy, pushing their fingers deep into their stomach to try to soothe their agitated intestines. they can feel another big cramp coming on and pushing at their asshole, so they clutch their belly and bear down...

and mushy shit immediately floods out of their ass and fills their underwear. they instantly try to clamp their asshole shut but they’re so sick that all they can do is lie there, their belly forcefully convulsing with each cramp and doing work to push a huge amount of loose crap into their pants and bedding. they try to stop at first but soon resign themselves to their uncontrollable shitting. all they can do is moan and rub their stomach as they unload diarrhea into their underwear

finally all they can do is doze feverishly while they let out weak, bubbly farts into their mess, feeling too sick and wrung-out to get up and clean themselves

[an0nymous-p]

Your FC feels their stomach gurgle, and they push their ass against their chair as hard as they can, working to hold everything in

Their SO denied them a chance to shit this morning, telling them they weren’t allowed to release their load until they got home from work. It’s a game they’ve never played before, and this morning FC was excited about it. Now they’re regretting that promise as they release a series of uncontrollably bubbly farts, further staining their already soiled underwear (they hadn’t made it two hours before sharting the first time, and by now there’s a not insubstantial bit of mess squishing between their cheeks as they squirm urgently)

They’re lucky they have an office to themself, but of course they’ll have to walk past dozens of coworkers in an hour when they finally get off and they’re fairly certain the only reason they haven’t had a full fledged accident is that they’re sitting down. They’re pretty desperate to pee at this point as well, but relieving that need would require standing and walking past coworkers as well, and if they lift their ass off the chair they’re going to poop

Not that they aren’t pooping anyway: they let out another toot and feel a large log start to press out of their hole before they clench with everything they have and suck it back in. They’ve given up any semblance of trying to get work done and are just sitting holding their stomach with their pants unbuttoned, desperately fighting their guts

The log pushes out further on the next cramp, and clenching hard only manages to break the tip off, adding to the mess in their pants. 45 minutes and they’re already losing it: they’ve got only a minute or two between cramps now, and each one is more forceful than the last

The log pushes out again, this time getting far enough to mush against the chair before they stop it. At this point there’s really no arguing that they haven’t pooped their pants, but they have to do what they can to minimize the severity. There’s probably not much of a bulge yet; maybe if they hurry past their coworkers no one will notice. It’s close enough to five that they can probably get away with leaving, right?

It’s not even 4:30. They can hang on for a few more minutes, right? To distract themself, they pull out their phone and text their SO: “I’m already making a mess of my pants, I have to go so bad. Can I come home early?”

The reply is immediate: “Stay until 5:05”

They’re never going to last that long. Just the thought of it has their stomach cramping again, and a large amount of mess squishes out of them with a squelch. They clench as hard as they can and decide on damage control over pleasing their SO; it’s not like SO will know when they left their desk, and they’d much rather have the rest of this accident in their car.

Standing up is a bad choice: even though they instantly cross their legs and clench as hard as they can, they feel more mess pushing out, accompanied by some more bubbling farts, and their bladder starts to give out as well: a hot spurt of pee soaks their underwear. They fight it as hard as they can, finally getting enough control to unclench their legs and step towards the door. Even though it’s not a large office, by the time they’re at the door they have to cross their legs again desperately as more waste urges out

They stand there with their hand in the knob, poop slowly sliding into their pants, one hand pressed tightly to their now-damp crotch, for probably thirty seconds before they have enough control to straighten up and walk down the hall to the elevator

They make it only a few steps before they lose control again, but they can’t stop, power walking as quickly as they can even though pee is spurting out with every step and a log of poop is sliding further and further out of them. They have to wait for the elevator, and they clench their legs together as tightly as possible. It feels like there are a thousand eyes on them: there’s pee running down the inside of their legs and there has to be a bulge in their pants by now.

To their horror, another loud shart explodes out of them as soon as they step forwyard to get on the elevator. Thankfully no one is inside.

Once the doors shut behind them, their hands are in their crotch again, desperately trying not to make a puddle in the elevator. The stink of their mess is almost unbearable, especially as they keep letting out bubbly farts

They leave a trail of brown-tinged pee as they all but run through the lobby of the building to get out to the parking garage where their car is. Once they’re outside they stop fighting their pee, leaning against a pillar as they soak their pants, uncaring of the large puddle left at their feet.

They stay there for a few minutes as their stomach cramps again, pushing out another large explosion of mess. They’re tempted to just stay there and finish their accident, but the rest of the office will be coming out soon and they can’t be seen like this

They hurry to their car, farting with every step. Sitting in this mess sounds so repulsive that they hesitate on arrival to the car, not even trying to fight the next log of shit that pushes against their hole, even pushing a little to urge it along. There’s a loud crackling sound as they absolutely fill their pants. Some of it starts to slide down the back of their legs as it overwhelms their underwear

They finally get enough of a break to get in the car, and their mess seems to squish everywhere as they sit down. They close the door and roll down the windows to vent the smell before pushing again. The mess squishes up the back of their shirt as the ride out the next wave.

After that they still need to go, but a lot less urgently; they know their SO will be pleased if they aren’t totally empty when they get home, and it’s not so bad they can’t drive now. Plus it’s finally almost five: if they say traffic was good their SO will never know they left early

The need climbs as they drive home, to the point where they nearly pull over to finish up. But they power through it, and half an hour later they’re still successfully turtleheading the next log when they make it into their driveway.

Their SO is waiting by the door, and looks terribly pleased when FC has to cross their legs desperately to keep control as they get out of the car.

“God,” FC says. “I’m about to shit my pants.”

SO’s smile grows, and they come down to inspect FC’s current state. “Looks like you have already shit your pants to me,” they say. “Can’t possibly still need a bathroom after this.” They lay one hand on the bulge in the back of FC’s pants, and one on their stomach, pressing gently.

The log pushes out of FC, followed by a very very wet fart. FC clenches desperately against the last of the mess. “Please,” they say, “I have to go so badly, I’m not going to make it.”

“Come sit with me on the porch swing,” SO says, pressing more firmly against FC’s stomach. “It’s such a lovely evening.”

“Ung,” FC says, releasing what feels like the last of their mess loudly into their pants.

SO grins, and draws FC with them up onto the porch, pressing them to sit. There’s an audible squishing sound as their mess mushes underneath them, and their pants are cold and wet, but if their SO wants them to stay outside, outside they’ll stay.

[an0nymous-p]

imagine your fave is a bad flier. they get themself so worked up for a 2 hour flight that for days beforehand, their guts are rock-hard and aching, refusing to digest. they board their flight so bloated they look pregnant, and the belt that needs to lock around their waist presses in painfully tight. for 2 hours they're a mess of anxiety, white-knuckling the arm rests until they touch down, and the immediate rush of relief that they're on the ground once more makes their gut gurgle and groan with sudden movement. as they wait to disembark they feel an unexpected, very urgent pressure against their asshole and they realise they need to go.

they hurry through the airport with their cheeks tightly clenched to keep whatever monstrous amounts of shit that had been building for days inside them. despite their best efforts, they can't help but slip out a few bassy, bubbling farts as they walk, the slightest amounts of relief with each step worth the not-quite-silent rumbles. they manage to keep themself together in the taxi to their hotel, a bulging, bowling ball sized load aching in their back door, but the wait for the clerk to check them in is torturous. they're nearly writhing in their desperation. the empty elevator cops their wet, uncontrollable rumbles for the entire ride up, their hand clutching their gut and their legs clenched so tightly together they can barely step into the hallway. this, too, is crop dusted every few yards as they make their way to their room, their farts obnoxiously loud through their squeezed cheeks.

their control ends as their door locks behind them, one step onto the pristine bathroom tile before they're bent over and exploding with pent up gas and a fat, coiling log, their pants barely down to their thighs. the dense shits that drop from them are broken apart only by gravity and their spluttering farts, shooting brown chunks from their ass onto their growing pile beneath them. they can't help their groans at the sublime pleasure of feeling their heavy intestines slowly empty. a long, sputtery fart signals the end of the seemingly neverending dump, and they manage to take a look at the mountain of bulbous logs and the brown spray of droplets scattered in a wider radius across the white tile. with a wince, they push out another burbling shart that ripples their exhausted cheeks, and wonder how they're going to explain this to the housekeeping staff.

[an0nymous-p]

pushing thick, stiff logs into a diaper until they slowly transition into soft, mushy ropes of shit ,,,, 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[an0nymous-p]

I wanna feel my ass open and be stunned by how wide my dump spreads me out as it slowly pushes into the seat of my undies and cracking loudly as it warmly spreads into my briefs and weighs them down. I want to smell the warm smell that only comes around when your poop is in your pants. I wanna look at my bulge in the mirror in awe as I stand in a heavenly heavy warm mess.

[an0nymous-p]

Me when I'm holding my pee and absolutely bursting.