Nepal to London Heathrow

[evergreen]

Tom had just spent several weeks in Nepal as the leader of a couple of treks through the mountains and over some high passes. The groups had been good, fun people and leading them had ben a joy. He loved the country and the people but now it was a case of returning to London and starting a new life and a steady job as a policeman.

The plane put down in Delhi for an hour or so and then carried on it's way. Tom realised just how tired he was and after taking the airplane meal, a delicious curry he fell into a deep sleep. He was missing nothing. It was night time after all. Tom woke up to daylight and saw it was six am. Then quite suddenly realisation took over from the pleasure of the new day. Bloody hell, asleep he had wet his pants. It was just like he'd wet his bed he supposed, slept on blissfully unaware of what he'd done. His wet trunks were stuck to him and his khaki shorts were plainly wet, wet for anyone to see. He got a faint aroma of what he had done and was thankful the plane was not packed and the seat next to him was unoccupied. It was not the end of his problems though because he had to get up for the toilet and had no intention of doing that in his pants.

He got up carefully and walked to the back of the plane trying to conceal his wet shorts but a couple of passenger noticed and smiled. Thankfully he did what he had to do next and set about making himself more comfortable in his wet clothes, tucking his shirt in properly and smoothing down his soaked trunks and shorts. He saw how wet the seat was as he lowered himself back onto it and he covered his wet shorts with his jumper as breakfast was served.

By the time the plane landed some four hours had passed since his chair wetting and his shorts were drying out well but still had a visible wet stain to be seen by anyone taking more than a glance at him. Three hours and he would be home.

Going through customs he was pulled to one side and taken into a room to be searched. This had happened to him previously at Casablanca and at Dover and whilst he would have liked to think the custom officers thought him so desirable they had to get their hands on him he appreciated that was just a dream. Two guys did the search, a younger man doing the search and an older one watching. There were few questions asked and really it was simply a search. Boredom perhaps. That he had wet himself was not lost on them.

"Pissed your pants then mate?"

"Yes = sorry - I wet in my sleep".

"You mean you wet your bed?"

"I suppose I do. Sorry."

"You do it often?"

"Not for a couple of years."

The older guy intervened and said, "shut up and search him and put your plastic gloves on>"

He undid Tom's shorts and told Tom to drop them and then went through his pockets complaining they were wet and then made him drop his wee wee soaked and stained trunks. More sarcasm followed and Tom having bent over was told to dress and he could carry on his way. He had found it a strange experience but then he had wet himself and perhaps they had thought he wet himself because he was worried about something.

The driver of the Greenline coach noticed the dampness of his shorts but let him on. He made sure he did not fall asleep on the journey home. Whilst Tom still sometimes woke up wet he had never until now wet himself in a public situation where he could not conceal his accident. Whilst mortified at having so public a wetting, if viewed as an experience it must rate quite high. Tom would not rush to do it again but would he worry too much if he did?

Perhaps not!

[Fred]

An embarrassing experience, but apparently not the first time. If he is to be a policeman, he's going to need to improve his bladder control!

[Brian]

Those customs officers at Heathrow picked their target well, didn't they? I guess that job has its perks.

This is actually the first story I've ever seen which combines what is essentially bed wetting with a wetting accident in a public place. It's funny, but I've never thought of this possibility before.

[greatwater]

I just like your work evergreen. Thank you for posting a lot of stories. I agree with Brian about the combination. Getting to toilet in the plane is sometimes quite hard enough, and if you also wet yourself in your sleep, that is a brilliant plot.

By the way, if you have time, evergreen, please add something to my new story. I'd love to see what you're going to do with Mr. Caleb Garth, a boss with a bladder of steel. Thank you.

[evergreen]

NOT OVER YET

The Greenline moved only slowly in the direction of St Albans. The traffic was dire and the driver had no sense of urgency. Tom thought he, the driver, may hope he'd wet himself on his coach. Tom was discovering desperation. There was no way he could wee himself again. He was at the back of the bus and if he wet again he would be exposing a soaked backside to all the passengers who saw him pass. He held on, his bladder aching until pulling up at Hendon Central, when, whilst the driver waited for no reason Tom could see, Tom quite involuntarily let go a squirt that showed through the front of his shorts again. He stopped it thank heavens but he could feel his bottom was refreshed with his wee.

Now the journey was easy and Tom clenched his legs together and tied to hold himself without giving himself away. Finally they neared St Albans and Tom made his way down the bus thanking the driver as he got off. His desperation was dreadful and he was losing the plot. By now his need was as bad at the back as it was at the front and he didn't know what to hold next. Approaching his house he became past caring. He was home now and as he opened the door he was pissing for Britain and could not have cared less. He did however run for the toilet and disposed of that other problem where it should go. Failing that test would have left him mortified.

There was a brown envelope on the floor and wet and disgusting though he was he ripped it open and found he had been accepted into his chosen force and to be at training school in the wild and wooly north of the country on Monday coming. Tom stripped off his clothes and ran a hot bath thanking his neighbour for switching on the electric water heater for him. He lay in the bath and everything soaked away from him. He remembered some of the people he had led and then he thought about his search after landing. It was no use kidding himself about how he felt about that search. He had enjoyed every moment of it. Having his wet clothes removed by another man around his own age, seeing his dirty underwear down by his knees and feeling somewhat humiliated. Certainly it had been an experience that had woken him up and given him a lot to think and examine himself about.

He climbed from his bath, dried off, found some new underpants fresh from the packet, tucked in his shirt, grabbed some clean jeans, filled up the washing machine with the first load and phoned the HR Department and told them he would be there on Monday to start his new job. Tom had a feeling the last twenty four hours had been quite life changing for him, had told him exactly the man he really is and it was time he rolled with it.

To be continued.

[Brian]

Looking forward to more of this story! There will surely be plenty more for Tom to discover about himself at a military (?) training school.

[evergreen]

Brian,

Thanks for the appreciated encouragement. Indeed, discovery should be fun.

[greatwater]

Agree with Brian. Just love to see more. I'm sure he's not the only one with a bladder problem there at the training.

[evergreen]

I arrived at my new job at about eight in the morning having set off early from North London. I had been accepted by the local police force and here I was presenting myself to HR> They sent me for breakfast and told me a guy called Mike was already in the canteen. We were joining together, would see the Chief Constable, be issued a couple of uniforms and drive ourselves to Weedale.

I met Mike in the canteen and we shook one another hands firmly. I was not exactly ugly but I fancied him straight away, nice face, blue eyes, slim build, six foot, gorgeous legs and a fabulous bottom. I saw all that inside the first five minutes. We got on and chatted about our joint love of running road and rough and of rock climbing. I recognised a good match. As we left the canteen to see the chief I considered going for a wee but put it off. The chief was two hours late and very pleasant but it was too late for us to go for a piss because the store man was becoming furious and as anyone who has been in any service will know, store men run the place. Mikes need for a wee was clearly worse than mine though he said nothing. He did keep holding himself though as we walked to the stores. Going in through the doors and climbing the stairs I looked around and saw a wet patch to the left of Mikes zip. neither of us said a thing but as we took off our shirts and trousers for the fitting I saw the wet stain clearly in his white Jockey briefs. We were wearing the same design underpants. If the store man noticed he said nothing and threw a shirt at each of us and told us to try them on. The pale blue cotton was good quality and they were long enough to conceal our briefs. I noticed Mike did the same as myself and tucked the shirt tail well down inside his Jockeys and it showed out the legs of his pants. Then Old Harry threw the trousers at us. Again a good fit and these were followed by all sorts of other buts and pieces. Putting my tie on my first burst of wee shot into my pants. I was pretty mortified but stopped it. Mike, poor sod already had a wet patch showing on his uniform pants but the dark blue hid it well.

At last we had got our uniform and we fled to the toilet. The door was locked and I thought Mike would cry. I ran back for the key and ran back to see wee down the inside of both Mikes trouser legs. By the time I got my fly buttons open I was pissing full force but spraying everywhere I got my dick out of my pants and I think overall more went down the toilet than went in my clothes.

Two very quiet young men made their way to my car to begin the final stage of the trip to Weedale.

More to come

[Brian]

Ahah, it's the police force. We have one or two fans of that broad subject here as you may possibly have noticed.

You're a great writing talent. If the limitations of what is allowed here in the General & Open section is constraining you at all, I'm sure you'll feel free to start a thread in Stronger Interests where it's a bit freer. Depending on where you want to take this, of course.