Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

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Lee
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Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Lee »

...as the clock ticked round to 09:15 the changing room area of the Wellington Barracks began to quieten down from the earlier rowdiness as the guardsmen began the final stages of their personal preparations for the 1st Battalion and No.7 Company’s ceremonial support to Her Majesty’s reception for the new US President. The Household Division of the Coldstream Guards always took pride of place at such events and this was to be no exception.

...standing at the far end of the now lightly-scented-with-deodorant-dressing area, as the barracks buzzed gently with nervous excitement and anticipation, newly-promoted Staff Sergeant Gavin Saunders looked at himself in the full-length wall mirror. His immaculately pressed white collar-less shirt looked pristine with the cuffs smartly turned up and fastened and the front buttons outlining his flat, washboard stomach. Despite his bare legs, the length of his shirt failed to reveal his brand new underpants, freshly removed from their packaging and with the white cotton of the briefs feeling soft and comfortable supporting his very own ‘crown jewels’. The day was momentous enough to merit new underpants – and even new socks, as Gavin glanced down at his feet, clad in a pair of pristine short black cotton socks.

The 24-year old had only recently assumed the role of Staff Sergeant and although he was still surrounded by his mates and colleagues, his new-found status had given him an aura that both delighted and irked him. Proud of the esteem in which his mates now seemed to be holding him, he also yearned in some respects for the now-in-the-past-frolics he had been forced to leave behind for the most part.

He looked to the front of him and saw his gleaming red tunic, his black trousers with the double-red stripe from pocket to ankle and on the bench his sparkling black boots, so shiny as to reflect his image and without a solitary scuff-mark – as he began the final stages of his dress preparation, in the presence of his trademark ‘Busby’ hat on the nearby chair.


...at 09:50 the full 1st Battalion of the Coldstream Guards Household Division was standing ready in the forecourt of the barracks, awaiting the final call before setting off on the short march to Horseguards Parade. The minutes passed slowly and painstakingly as each of the guardsmen stood waiting, each silently re-assuring themselves that nothing had been omitted from their meticulous preparation and each of them standing rigidly and formally, as much out of fear of creasing their uniforms or marking their boots, as abiding by instructions.


...as the clock ticked over to 10:00, the noise of instructions being shouted and orders being given set hearts-a-pounding and stomachs-a-churning as the rigidness turned into formal stiffness and the whole formation moved in time and in accordance with directions.
As Staff Sergeant Gavin Saunders’ whole body jolted with his stamp to attention, a wave of anxiety swept through his body as he was unsure of whether he had felt a swirl in his bladder.

‘Surely not! No way, it can’t be! I can’t need a piss!’ The thought rushed through his mind and he quickly dismissed the prospect to the darkest recesses of his brain. ‘Ceremonial bladder syndrome, that’s all it is!’ he quickly convinced himself – how many times had he heard colleagues tell about that awful moment when they thought they needed the toilet right at the start of a long guard duty. It was one of those quirky things that availed them all at times. He tried to avert his attention to more important things, thinking of his fiancé, his brother and his mum and dad who would be in the selected audience to watch the reception.

...twenty minutes later the formation arrived and took its place centre-stage in Horseguards Parade. If the march itself had been less-than-comfortable, the “stamp” down as they were stood to attention was a moment of sheer panic for Gavin. As his booted-foot thumped with precision onto the tarmac surface, the jolt worried his bladder. There was no disguising the facts this time - he really did need to piss.

“Bloody hell! How on earth has this happened?” he thought to himself. No-one was usually as careful as Gavin about making sure that his pre-event agenda included making sure that his bladder was empty. He desperately tried to recall the exact time of his last piss but he knew that it had been a scarcely-needed one, so how the hell did he want to go again so soon?

Maybe it was the anxiety of the occasion but he’d done events like this numerous times and never had he found himself in this sort of predicament.
His mind went into recall as he mentally scanned the programme for the morning – “dismissal at 12:30” he remembered.

“Oh God, two-and-a-half-hours!!” he wasn’t sure he would last out. If the last thirty minutes were anything to go by and the rapid speed at which his bladder had filled during the time was to be repeated, he’d be breaking his neck in less than an hour, “This can’t be happening, not today of all days!” he groaned to himself.

Darting his eyes sideways and along the line, he could see his colleagues standing upright and proud, awaiting the events of the next few hours. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the rows of shiny boots, side-by-side and perfectly in line and in the near-silence of the immediate surroundings, he could hear the occasional deep exhaling of breath and gentle throat-clearing from his many colleagues. Was Gavin the only one who was already in need of the toilet? His heart missed a beat and a mildly-warm flush enveloped him as he realised in horror that the answer was probably yes.


...the arrival of Her Majesty the Queen and members of her family and the announcement of the imminent appearance of the President had been greeted with as much pride by the members of the guard as those in the public arena. The vast majority of the guardsmen had been craning their necks to get a glimpse of the royals and their esteemed guests, the slight but unseen movements giving them the simplest relaxation of strained muscles after an hour-and-a-half of standing.

In the middle of the front row, Staff Sergeant Gavin Saunders was fast becoming totally oblivious of his surroundings, let alone who the guests of honour were. His bladder had filled to such an extent that he was experiencing wave after wave of discomfort and was constantly having to fight-back an overwhelming desire to bend forwards or even squat down. In his twenty years since babyhood, he could hardly ever remember an occasion when he had needed to go to the toilet so badly – and the very fact that he knew there was absolutely no way in the world he could go for at least another hour was making the anguish almost unbearable.

Desperate to adjust his standing position he was almost raising his feet from their heels and tensing his leg muscles, terrified that his predicament would be spotted by an eagle-eyed colleague and yet knowing that if he failed to take some preventative action, the consequences were close to being devastating.

...as the huge clock on the tower clicked onto 12:10, a full two hours and ten minutes after they had first taken their places, Gavin could no longer take the immense pain in the pit of his belly without resorting to some sort of response to his body’s screams for assistance. On the very verge of losing control of his painful and bloated bladder, his stomach muscles throbbed with the strain of holding on for so long, his taut legs were aching beyond belief and his cock was virtually twitching in his underpants, frantically trying to stem the immense tide that was fast-approaching.

Less than fifty yards away in the warm spring sunshine, Her Majesty was smiling with her family and guests with most of the by-now-weary and increasingly bored guardsmen looking for something else to attract their attention – and the desired distraction was soon discovered.
In a knowingly futile attempt to defer the inevitable for a little longer, Staff Sergeant Saunders bobbed gently on the spot. He knew the danger of being seen by his superiors and his nearby colleagues but he literally couldn’t help himself. His actions were magnified ten times in the midst of such stillness and as he added to the show by desperately squeezing his legs together at the knees, a side-of-the-mouth whisper from immediately behind him uttered,

“What’s the matter, Sarge?”

With his face burning from the neck upwards, Gavin’s startling, sharp retort came almost under his breath, “I’m busting. I’m going to do it in my pants!” He was almost relieved that he could finally reveal his torment.

There were several more seconds of further silence before another closeted whisper murmered,

“I think he needs a piss!” followed by a supposedly encouraging, “Hold on Sarge, stand firm.”

It was all too much for Gavin to take, knowing that his fate was all-but-sealed, he responded in a voice that was pretty much audible for several yards around him, “I’m going to have to wet myself!”

Any sympathy from his colleagues was overshadowed by several sniggers and concealed guffaws, disguised with throat-clearing coughs and as many eyes as possible started to avert their gaze towards the feet of their unfortunate Staff Sergeant.


...as the minutes ticked by, the relative silence in the ranks was permeated by a stream of clenched teeth, corner-of-the-mouth sly whispers and utterances, accompanied by some straight-faced smirks.

“Has he wee-wee’d yet!”
“On the count of three, two, one ... pppsssssssssssss!”
“I can’t see nothing yet.”
“His eyeballs are floating!”

Gavin was beside himself, grinding the sole of his right boot into the tarmac and gyrating his pelvis to both ease the pain and in an attempt to control himself. By now it was not just his stinging and watery eyes that were darting from side to side, his head was jerking slightly as the swaying Busby on his head made his fidgeting even more apparent.

As the moment approached, his desire to hold himself became an absolute requirement but unable to do so, his last valiant attempt at containment became impossible. A groan that started in the pit of his stomach roared up through his throat and escaped his parted lips, emerging as a multi-second moan that revealed to those around him that the game was well and truly up. “Aarrggh”

“Oops, too late!” came a muffled comment from behind him as a stricken Gavin felt his belly pain intensify dramatically before his numbed manhood sprung into involuntary action, releasing the first spurt of scorching warmth into his about-to-be-deluged underpants. As the spurt became a torrent, the heat spread rapidly through the crotch of his pants, up his backside and in equal measures down the front and back of his thighs.

Almost pooling behind his knees before pouring down his calves and his shins, the stream continued unabated all down his legs, gushing in flows and torrents right down as far as his socks and into his boots.

Unable to stop himself, the flood kept coming and coming and coming ... the 24-year old Coldstream Guard wetting himself uncontrollably in sheer desperation.


...the groan that their Staff Sergeant had emitted had attracted more attention throughout the ranks than might have been thought possible although not everyone who had heard it could manage to steer their eyes enough to witness the accompanying sight. Those that did though, saw the evidence literally flooding onto the tarmac.

The lads standing immediately behind their Sarge saw his body give a little shudder as the first few drips emerged, dripping from the back of his right trouser-leg onto the floor, followed instantly by a steady stream flowing down the side of his boot with another stream running from the other leg of his trousers.

As the back of his trouser-legs began to glisten with the volume of urine pouring down his legs, the pee began to puddle around his boots, firstly spreading out silently around his right boot and then developing into a pool emerging from under the sole of his left boot. Within seconds the
hammering strength of the piss which was jetting through his uniform trousers began to froth on the tarmac before growing into a puddle of titanic proportions.

“Bloody hell, he’s really going for it!” whispered a voice behind him as the silent sniggers turned into open-mouthed gasps of astonishment.

A couple of the other lads had heard stories of blokes having accidents on parades before, although often told more in folk-lore than truth but no-one had really envisaged that a genuine “lashing of the trews” would produce such a dramatic sight.

As the flow eventually subsided to a dribble, word of the wondrous mishap had been making it’s joyful way along the rank, with the other end of the line receiving muffled messages that “Sarge has just wet himself!”


...Staff Sergeant Gavin Saunders was standing motionless, free of the agonising stomach pain but engulfed by a sense of disbelief and discomfort that he could hardly come to terms with – he’d just pissed himself!!

His uniform trousers were turning cold and clammy and clinging to his legs, whilst his underpants were so sodden he could still feel them dripping droplets of urine down his legs. His feet were soaked with his socks saturated and his boots cold and sticky.

Worst of all, he directed his eyes downwards as far as he could to see the darkness of the puddle all round his boots where he stood, with little rivulets snaking off in numerous directions.

Almost trembling in embarrassment, he was unaware of how long the event had to go or what they were doing next and he had to fight to bring himself back to his senses. His shame at losing control and peeing his pants was immense and whilst he knew his colleagues would be sympathetic, he also knew that the mickey-taking would be remorseless – so much for his newly-acquired status and respect, as a giggled comment from behind uttered, “That feel better, Sarge?”

What he was unknowing of was how many other pairs of eagle-eyes around the arena had witnessed his accident?
Fred
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Fred »

When we watch all the Pomp and Circumstance, we have to remember that all mortals must pee several times a day, and these men are no exception. They also must be adequately hydrated to avoid muscle cramps or simply collapsing. Given that some uniforms make peeing at least somewhat awkward, and then considerable time is consumed in assembling, being transported, and then getting into formation, all prior to the actual exhibition, there surely must be some full bladders before it's all over. And even then, there may be no (or insufficient) toilets available until they are back at their barracks. It's surprising that there aren't more incidents such as the one in this story!
Adrian6970
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Adrian6970 »

Excellent story, Lee. Last Sunday - Remembrance Sunday - it was very cold, just like today. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few aching bladders and throbbing cocks around. An idea for another story perhaps?
Lee
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Lee »

Adrian6970 wrote: 19 Nov 2017, 21:44 Excellent story, Lee. Last Sunday - Remembrance Sunday - it was very cold, just like today. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few aching bladders and throbbing cocks around. An idea for another story perhaps?
Who were you thinking of? :roll:
Adrian6970
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Adrian6970 »

Lee wrote: 19 Nov 2017, 21:46
Adrian6970 wrote: 19 Nov 2017, 21:44 Excellent story, Lee. Last Sunday - Remembrance Sunday - it was very cold, just like today. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few aching bladders and throbbing cocks around. An idea for another story perhaps?
Who were you thinking of? :roll:
No one specific but I'm sure it would provide the backdrop for a story. The only Remembrance Sunday pissing story I've written Involved a lady barely making it to the loo but I'm sure one involving a guy would be within your abilities.
Brian
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Brian »

Another old favourite! I remember this story from long before I dared make an account on sites like this one.

You actually wrote some more of this story originally, didn't you Lee? I seem to remember Gavin Saunders' brother getting involved after watching Gavin on parade. Unless I'm confusing it with another of your stories?
Lee
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Lee »

Brian wrote: 20 Nov 2017, 11:29 Another old favourite! I remember this story from long before I dared make an account on sites like this one.

You actually wrote some more of this story originally, didn't you Lee? I seem to remember Gavin Saunders' brother getting involved after watching Gavin on parade. Unless I'm confusing it with another of your stories?
I did, yes. Well remembered!

I omitted that small part so that it could be left suitable for a possible follow up about who might have seen it happen?
Tattsandkink
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Tattsandkink »

I'd love to see that! Hot guys pissing their uniform trousers is a huge turn on for me.
bearshel
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by bearshel »

He should have held himself! Holding yourself in public or pissing yourself in public, I know which I'd choose! :lol:
Sam70
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Re: Guardsman does it in his pants on parade!

Post by Sam70 »

This is my latest all-time favorite piss story until I read the next piss story, especially if Lee wrote it!

Some here have suggested that don't really enjoy seeing the lad lose control. They just enjoy the desperation. They haven't read this story yet!

This story includes the interests that this site is known for. There is another interest here. This is the funniest story I have ever read at a pissing site.

The conversation between the Staff Sargeant and himself are hilarious. They are so descriptive of conversations I have had with myself in many different situations over time. I don't think that even you have written a better and vivid description of Sarge's conversation with himself.

The moment that the very first drops of urine escaped into Sarge's pants, then traveled on and on to lower places on Sarge's body and the uniform was splendidly told starting from the growl that Sarge made when the very first few drops left Sarge without Sarge's permission!

The other soldier's hearing this knew that the game was up for Sarge. The conversations were stimulating as well as being hilarious the way that you tell it.

Had you told this story to the right audience with all the inflections of voice to go along with it, that audience would have bent over with laughter. A few might have wet themselves at least a little!

I was already laughing inside with your descriptions. Then the urine hit the tarmac. That brought forth some actions and laughter from me that put the previous responses I had in the shade.

The descriptions of how and when the piss began to become felt or visible were spot on. The other soldier's responses were epic. I loved the comments while they were in formation. I can just imagine the scene of how they were able to spread the news and make comments while they were in formation.

One reason that this story brings forth two different reactions is that it does suit the interests of people on this site is told so vividly accurate of how I would expect this story to go in real life for a young guardsman newly named Sarge over the other guardsmen. He was respected and admired by his fellow guardsmen and the superiors.

At the same time your sentences, word descriptives and the comments by the other guardsmen had me laughing so much that I almost was in the same predicament as Sarge.

I don't remember ever reading one of your stories that come close to the comedy side of this story.

At the same time, no story I have read by you gives the most intimate conversations that our lad in question is having with himself as well as this one.

I have a feeling there is more to come. Sooner or later, the guardsmen will march back to their quarters. Sooner or later, there will be more comments. Surely, this is can't get any worse for our newly appointed Sarge. Somehow, Lee, I suspect you are capable to continue this splendid story.

For all we know, Sarge may not be the only one in trouble. Perhaps a superior also was caught out or one of the other guardsmen. One guardsman might make it back to quarters as the only one still in dry pants. There could become new events that leave this guardsman out in formation for quite a bit longer. Only Lee knows and he is not yet telling!

I would love to read the rest of this story and soon!!!!

Thanks, Lee for providing us so many great stories to read. You are a top legend among legends.
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