The Bedwetter's Punishment

I awoke from my dream in a daze. Last thing I remembered was a hallway of doors, behind each room was a bathroom that I wasn't allowed to go in, and then I was back in my old school. I entered the girl's bathroom, I had to take off all my clothes for some reason, and then I sat down to finally pee. Then came the warmth.

I was now awake in my room, the light shining through a crack in the curtains onto my face, a light breeze of Sunday morning air coming through the open window. It took me a moment or two of shuffling about before I realised my clothes were clammy and damp. My heart rate skyrocketed and I no longer felt groggy but fully alert. This couldn't be happening, not again.

I whipped off my white duvet and sure enough I had wet the bed. Badly as well. I sat in my shame on my soiled mattress for a few seconds before getting up and floating over to my bedwetting calendar. Since turning 19 I'd been wetting the bed - it's entirely my fault, I drink lots of water now and I never bother to get up to pee, but the result was me urinating in my sleep. I now had a bedwetting calendar on the wall by the door, but this was the first time I'd had three crosses in a row and I knew exactly what that meant.

I was still folding sheets in my wet pyjamas when my mum came in. She knew what had happened the moment she saw me.

"You wet the bed again, didn't you?" she asked with no emotion in her voice.

"Yeah... I'm sorry."

"Three times in a row, you know what this means don't you?"

"Should I change into some dry clothes now?"

"Yes, you should," she replied raising her voice now "Change into your old jeans and meet me in the laundry room. Don't forget to grab the four-pack of water bottles from the fridge."

I gulped at that, "yes mum."

I did as I was told. I showered, changed into my skinny-fit light blue jeans and some of my least favourite panties, grabbed the water from the fridge, and made my way to the basement with the washing machine and laundry stuff. Mum was waiting for me at the table with a long, thin chain and a padlock on the top.

"I brought the water bottles." I said timidly.

"I'd start drinking if I were you." she said coldly. I twisted the lid and took a swing as she spoke some more.

"Katie, this is the third night in a row you've wet the bed. You're an adult now, and you told me yourself that you're having these accidents because you're too lazy to get up to use the bathroom. So as punishment, you won't be given the choice to use the bathroom at all.

"You have half an hour to drink two litres of water, that's these bottles right here. After that, you are not allowed to use the bathroom for four hours. It's 10am, so that means you must hold your pee until 2:30pm. This chain will go around your waist through your belt loops, and a padlock will keep it locked in place so you don't cheat. Once the four hours is up, you must pee your pants, and only then you will be given back your bathroom privileges and be allowed to change into some clean dry clothes.

"If you can't hold it until 2:30 and you wet yourself before time is up, you will not be able to change clothes for 24 hours. The padlock stays on, no bathroom privileges, you go to bed in your urine soaked clothes, and we try this again tomorrow."

I hid my growing anxiety through the gulps of the water bottle in my hand.

"Do you have any questions?" She asked. I took a break from drinking and shot her one of the questions I'd had since she first warned me about this punishment.

"What if I need to poop?" I asked

"The padlock stays on."

"Okay" I responded in hushed tones. Mum wrapped the chain through my jeans' belt loops and connected it together with a small padlock. She fiddled with the lock and my jeans to make sure it was secure and not coming off any time soon.

My heart was in my throat as I took the bottles to my room. I was pretty good at holding back my tears.

Before long the water was gone and I occupied myself by changing the sheets on my wet bed. The chain around my waist kept my jeans firmly in place, squeezing tightly around my bladder just enough that I knew it would add to my discomfort. I could just about get two fingers down my pants, part of me got frustrated that I wouldn't be able to touch myself at any point this morning but mostly I was worried about being denied the OTHER bodily necessity by that chain.

It only took about an hour before I felt the need to piss. My bedwetting was a result of pure laziness but I've always had a very small bladder I think, I drink lots of water and generally I have a low tolerance to a full bladder. I must have pissed behind every dumpster in the city on my nights out and drinking so much on those nights did not help with my bed wetting. Hangovers are the worst when you wake up in a puddle of cold piss.

Even when sober I have the world's smallest bladder. Whenever I get home from work the first thing I do is sit on the toilet, and I probably take bathroom breaks every other hour when I'm in the office. I never watch three hour movies for this reason, and I would never drink TWO LITRES before sitting down to watch it.

But I had drunk two litres. On any other day feeling like this I'd go straight to the bathroom, but I still had three hours to go.

I booted up my Playstation and played some shooter games for a while. I was playing well at first, but before long the pressure in my bladder forced me into playing full-tilt and raging over the mic. I would not recommend doing that if you're a woman by the way, men can be creepy assholes and any perceived grievance is attributed to 'that time of the month'.

By 12pm I was feeling desperate, I actually found myself running across the hall to the bathroom and it wasn't until getting to the toilet that I realised that I physically couldn't use it. I stared at the toilet bowl in quiet frustration, cursing the bastard of a chain around my waist.

It was at this point that my mum showed up behind me.

"Is the bathroom free?" She asked sarcastically "I suppose it would be, it's not like you could be using it even if you wanted to."

Ignoring her teasing, I tried to beg with their

"Please mum, I've learned my lesson, I promise I won't wet the bed again. Can you let me off just this once and let me use the bathroom? I'll do all the laundry for a week."

"No. You knew this would be your punishment from the beginning, and I won't be sure you've learned your lesson until the accidents stop. Now get out, I'm using the bathroom"

I did as I was told, she locked the door in front of me and I could hear her pee. That did not help my situation at all and I slinked back to my bedroom.

I felt like I was in hell. My bladder screamed at me for release and the only thing I could do was suffer through it. I found the best strategy was to stay completely still on my bed, watching TikTok and reading erotica to keep my mind off of the very urgent need to relieve myself. I tried touching myself over my jeans, but that didn't amount to anything.

After what felt like an eternity it was 1pm, lunchtime, only two and a half hours in. My need to pee was now impossible to ignore, and sitting opposite my mum at the kitchen table I was squirming like a worm. Mum completely ignored me, and I grew angry.

"Why are you doing this to me!?" I asked in anger.

"This is my house, my rules Katie. You keep telling me you don't need to wear diapers to bed and that you can hold it yourself. You tell me you don't get up at night to use the bathroom because you don't want to. Well, now you're going to have to prove that you're capable of controlling your own bladder at all."

"I am, I promise I am."

"I'm sure you are."

"Well, then let me go to the bathroom" I contested angrily, mostly talking with my bladder

"No, you have to wait until 2:30."

"Just let me go to the bathroom you fucking bitch!"

Fuck. I regretted my mistake instantly.

There was a moment of deafening silence as she glared at me across the table and I wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Without saying a word she pushed her chair away from the table and made her way over to the sink.

"I'm sorry" I said. No response.

She pulled out a pint glass from the cupboard and filled it all the way to the top. She turned and placed it on the table in front of me.

"Drink it." She said "And don't you say a word or leave a drop because there's plenty more in the tap if you do".

I did as I was told, downing the whole thing while she watched.

"Because of your rudeness I'm adding an extra thirty minutes to your punishment - you must now wait until 3pm before you can relieve yourself. And don't think your situation will get better if you let go a single minute before that, do I make myself clear?"

My blood rushed to my face, I felt just like a little girl being told off again and the thought of waiting even longer than I did filled me with despair. I nodded in response to her question, and finished the meal in complete silence while squirming in my seat.

An hour later, desperation could not begin to describe how I was feeling. I tried gaming, watching TikTok, listening to music, nothing could take my mind off of my need to go to the bathroom. I danced and squirmed around my room. My best strategy was to lay in bed as still as possible but almost subconsciously and uncontrollably my body moved about.

Before long it was 2:30 - the time my punishment challenge would have finished had I not had that little outburst at the table. Another half hour seemed impossible, especially after that extra pint of water. The chain around my waist was just tight enough to add even more pressure to my bladder, and I could not pull my pants down a single inch.

The reality was beginning to set in that I may not be able to make it, that I'd pee in my jeans long before my time was up and be forced to wear them for 24 hours, pissing and shitting myself uncontrollably. Why, oh why didn't I just use the bathroom the night before when I had the chance instead of wanking myself to sleep and wetting the bed?

I was now out of bed and basically dancing around the room, and in doing so I accidentally knocked my leg into my bedside table. The pain was just enough that I lost focus for a microsecond and before I even noticed my urethra relax I felt a small amount of warmth in my panties.

Oh no. Oh god no.

I shot my hands down to my crotch and upon letting go to look at myself I could see a small wet patch about the size of a large coin forming. I'd just about been able to stop myself but that brief moment of relief only multiplied my suffering. Now my muscles had relaxed for a moment, forcing them to strain again felt even worse.

Ten minutes left. I wanted to sit down again but I knew that by doing so I'd almost certainly lose bladder control. So I remained stood up, cursing and retching and jiggling about. At one point I felt a pang in my bladder and I tensed every muscle in my body. I didn't dare remove my hand from my groin, but I definitely felt a little bit more warmth down below. I'd not wet myself while awake since hitting adulthood, I didn't want to find out what that was like now.

Two minutes. I could do this.

I glanced at the ticking clock on my mantelpiece, the second hand crawled its way around the circle, each second was an eternity and each shred of process around the circle was flakes chipping away from a mountain. I couldn't give up now.

I spent the final thirty seconds staring at the clock, counting down the seconds was the only thing I could do to keep my mind off my bladder, which I knew could explode at any time.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

3pm. I'd make it.

Quickly but extremely cautiously, I made my way down the stairs into the basement laundry room where mum was folding up the sheets from the morning.

"Mum, mum, mum!" I screamed bursting in "it's 3pm I made it. Can I use the bathroom now?"

She looked up at the clock. "Oh yes! That's four hours and thirty minutes. Could you remove your hand so I can see you actually made it?"

I'd not even noticed that I was cross legged with my hand still planted over my crotch. Begrudgingly, I removed my hands and uncrossed my legs. That patch on my jeans was about the size of a tennis ball. I felt my muscles relax and launched my hands back to my vulva, basically the only thing keeping the flood in at this point.

"Good enough," she said "you've proved that you can hold it in when you want to. Well done."

"Please can I go pee now?" I asked hurriedly.

"Yes, you may"

"Where's the key to this padlock?"

"It's in my pocket."

"Can I have it?"

"Don't you remember the rules?"

I racked my brain trying to think back to the morning. What rules? I made it, didn't I? I had to hold it in for four hours and then after that time I could... oh god.

"You want me to wet myself?" After all that time, all that torment, everything I went through, I still had to pee my pants. It was all for nothing.

"That's right. As the final part of your punishment I want you to know what it feels like to wet yourself deliberately while you're awake. I want you to never forget how it feels to be lazy."

"You can't... I did what I said..."

Another pang from my bladder. My hand felt wet now, and this time when I tried to tighten my urethra I couldn't. A drop turned into a dribble, which turned into a stream. My mum just stood there and watched.

"No! No no no no no no no," I pled in desperation, but it was too late. The inevitable happened.

Warm piss erupted from my bladder, splashing against my hands before I moved them away to watch the growing darkness on my blue jeans. The warmth spread quickly across my crotch, down the sides of my legs and across to the sides. My jeans were saturated but I was still going, my urine now pooled at my feet and through the material of the jeans themselves. Although I felt humiliated, the sensation of warmth coupled with the relaxation of every muscle in my body was orgasmic. I felt so, so relieved.

After more than thirty seconds, I was finished, my bladder was empty and I was more wet than dry. My bare toes splashed in the puddle as I looked up and smiled at my mum who smiled back.

She pulled out the key and let me unlock myself, and she held her hand out for me to give her my soiled clothes for the wash. I unzipped myself and peeled the jeans from my legs before handing them over to my mum. She coughed as if to say I wasn't finished, and that's when I looked down at my now-yellow stained Hello Kitty panties. They were completely drenched. I pulled down my top before pulling down my knickers, and held my shirt over myself after handing them to mum.

"Well done Katie, you can have a shower now."

I smiled and awkwardly waddled away, pulling my shirt down to cover my bare ass. I stepped around the puddle of urine on the floor and once I was upstairs.i basically skipped through the house to the bathroom. I ran a nice hot shower and had a wank under the flowing water.

I never wet the bed again.