It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Amanda was alone in the house. Everyone else was away- they’d all got things to do, and the house was hers for the weekend. If she’d been someone else, perhaps she might have got bored with no-one around. But Amanda was different. Being alone allowed her to do things she couldn’t easily do when anyone else was there. Smoke the odd joint, maybe. Walk around stark naked, perhaps. So far, so normal. But there was something else. When she was alone, Amanda liked to become Little Amanda. She liked to pretend she was a little girl. She found it relaxing and sexy to do all the things she did when she was younger. Mainly this involved dressing up in childish clothes, playing with her dolls and sucking her thumb. But, Amanda being Amanda, it didn’t stop there. Hidden away in a drawer, she kept things she didn’t want anyone else to find. People would have thought it very strange that a big girl of nineteen would want to wear the sort of underwear that was tucked away in that drawer. And the state of some of it! It was all thoroughly washed, but even a thorough washing hadn’t been able to completely remove the evidence of some of Amanda’s activities. From the faint brown stains on the seat, and- in some cases- the legbands of her underwear, one would have to conclude that Amanda Smith had a lot of very messy accidents in her pants. And one would be right.
Although she normally only indulged in these practices in the privacy of her bedroom, today, Amanda was going to be Little Amanda with a difference- she was going to go out in public! She’d very occasionally weed or pooed her pants in the street, but getting back into the house and cleaning up undetected was always difficult with people around. Today it was different- nobody was around! Just thinking about it made Amanda want to go to the toilet- all that adrenaline was making her bowels move. However, for the moment she had to be a big girl and control herself.
She busied herself sorting out what she’d need. There was a wood not far from her home, and if she took the back route, she wouldn’t be seen by many people. Once she was in the wood- nobody really went there much- she could be Little Amanda to her heart’s content. It was just the walk to the wood and the return journey back to her house that might be problematic if she really dressed up as a little girl. What would people think if she wore her flowery summer dress, white socks and ribbons in her hair? She loved to wet and mess wearing this sort of thing, but even she had to admit she looked vaguely ridiculous- fine in the bedroom, but maybe not in public. And the dress really did show up the brown stains that happened when she sat down- she couldn’t walk home like that! Reluctantly, she decided she’d have to compromise- but not too much! She chose a short, dark blue denim skirt with a little white top that showed her tummy. The ribbons in her hair were fine; she didn’t look that different to when she was dressed normally. The only odd thing about her outward appearance would be the white kneesocks she absolutely had to wear. She loved the way her wee would trickle down her legs and soak the socks, adding to the overall feeling of having completely wet herself. She wore a cute pair of trainers on her feet. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought she’d be able to get away with the way she looked; well, the kneesocks would have to come off anyway for the return journey, as they’d be soaking wet, but that was OK.
Now for the underwear…Amanda opened the drawer and rummaged around. All these pants, every pair wonderful for wetting in, some ideal for pooing in- she was going to need a pair that could handle what she could sense was going to be a very big accident. She settled on a pair of pink high-waisted cotton knickers with thick, strong legbands. She knew from experience that they were highly absorbent and became wonderfully heavy and droopy when she peed them, and they held her poo accidents really well, unless she sat down hard. She stood in front of the mirror and pulled them on slowly. When they were round her knees they looked really huge- and she looked very cute. Once she’d pulled them up all the way, she liked how she could see the outline of her vagina showing through the thick cotton. She’d shaved herself smooth, so it looked very obvious. She turned round to look at her bottom. Her undies were ever so slightly baggy, and she liked the way the soft material caressed her skin when she scissored her legs. Lowering her skirt and pulling it tight over her behind, she could see a very obvious VPL- would people be able to tell she was wearing babyish knickers? Who cares!
She was almost ready; just a few things to take care of. Firstly, a spare pair of knickers and a plastic bag. She had no idea how messy she was going to get, but there was the distinct possibility that it would be so bad she couldn’t walk home like that. And if she was going to be such a naughty Little Amanda, she felt she ought to punish herself by changing into the most unflattering pants she could find. And there were plenty of those in her drawer! Mostly greyish-white in colour, all big and a bit baggy, some with the evidence of previous mishaps indelibly stained into the seat. Amanda chose a pair of these, and put them at the bottom of her bag. Along with her spare knickers, she put a toilet roll, in case she needed to change her pants and clean up in the wood, and a small hand-mirror- having an accident is no fun if you can’t see the mess you’ve made! As she was about to close the knicker-drawer, her eye was caught by a pair of navy-blue nylon gym knickers. Amanda liked pretending to be in PE class and wetting these; she also sometimes pooed in them, as they felt wonderfully stretchy and bouncy with all that mess in them, but the downside was that she couldn’t see her accident stains so easily. But maybe today she could have some fun in them- perhaps put them on over her dirty pink pants, to hold it all in better. She could be like those Japanese girls she’d seen on the net, who wore them over their regular knickers for PE! Finally, she chose a book to read, and stuffed it in the bag. At last she was ready. For now, she was plain Amanda Smith, but once she was in those woods, she could be Little Amanda for as long as she liked! She set off on her walk.
She was very aware of her big knickers rubbing against her as she walked, and she was very tempted to just wee herself there and then and enjoy that soggy, slapping feeling between her legs and the cold clinginess on her bottom. However, she kept control of herself and headed for the woods. It really was a lovely day, and she could smell the pine trees from some way off. Soon she’d be there, and she knew of a little clearing where nobody ever went, where she could have the most ghastly accident and do all the things she wanted to do in that state- run around, sit down, climb trees, take off her skirt and wander around in her shitty pink pants and little white top. Mmm!
She decided to enjoy the sunshine and read her book for a while, working up the need to go to the toilet. She was starting to need a wee quite badly, but she’d got all the time in the world, and she liked that feeling of desperation. It was going to take a few minutes to get to that stage, though, so she found a grassy area and sat down to read. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn’t notice the girl until she was practically standing over her. With a start, Amanda looked up to see a girl about her own age on the path, staring at her. She looked as surprised to see Amanda as Amanda was to see her. Actually, Amanda wasn’t so much surprised as annoyed. She was just about ready to wee her pants, and now this bloody girl had turned up. She hoped she’d go away. They stared at each other. Amanda, being a polite, well-brought up girl, thought she’d better say something, so she said, “Hi”, as non-committally as she could. “Hi”, replied the other girl, in a friendly way. “What are you reading?”. Oh for god’s sake, thought Amanda. “Oh, it’s just a trashy novel. I didn’t quite finish it when I was on holiday”. And suddenly Amanda found she was telling this girl where she’d been on holiday, what she’d done there, people she’d met, and so on and so forth. By this time the girl- Jodie, she was called- had sat down on the grass and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. And strangely, Amanda didn’t really mind, although she was by now dying to go to the toilet. As they talked, Amanda surreptitiously rearranged her skirt so that she wasn’t sitting on it. It began to dawn on her that she could do something really daring- she could have an accident in her pants in front of this girl without her noticing! Maybe not a poo accident- she wasn’t quite ready to poo anyway- but it would be fun to slowly soak herself without Jodie being any the wiser.
As they talked, Amanda began releasing little squirts of pee into her pants. She sat with her legs straight out in front of her, and with her skirt out of the way, the pee soaked right through her knickers and into the grass. And Jodie couldn’t see a thing! She could feel her pee trickling out of her and downwards, into the seat of her pants, tickling her bottom. As the conversation progressed, she became more daring. Instead of a little spurt every ten seconds or so, Amanda started seeing how long she dared relax before stopping the flow. Two seconds….four seconds…then a great big gush which must have lasted eight seconds at least- she’d really wet her pants now! Eventually, after several long gushes, Amanda was sitting on warm, wet grass in a pair of totally soaked knickers, looking for all the world as if nothing was wrong. And Jodie seemed nice- how the hell was she going to get rid of her? Did she really want to get rid of her?
As they talked, Amanda tried to work out how she could get out of her awkward, if self-made, predicament. There she was, dressed like a little girl in her white socks- Jodie hadn’t commented on her appearance- and underneath her skirt, she was hiding a pair of soggy, stained little-girl knickers. She was in danger of completely humiliating herself if Jodie found out what she’d done. She decided the best thing was to move on. With a sigh, she gingerly started to get up. She mustn’t let Jodie see her pants. “Hey, Jodie, I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to be going…” Jodie held out her hand to help her up. Amanda grabbed her hand, and, still trying to keep her legs together, attempted to heave herself up. Bad move. She’d got halfway up, but what with trying to hide her pants, and sweaty palms due to her anxiety that Jodie shouldn’t find out what she’d done, it all went wrong. Amanda lost her grip on Jodie’s hand and went flying backwards. There was no way she could keep her legs closed. She lay sprawled on the grass, skirt around her thighs, displaying the wettest pair of knickers Jodie had ever seen.
At first, Jodie wasn’t sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. This girl Amanda certainly dressed unusually, but could she really be wearing a huge pair of pink knickers? And as Amanda lay there, not quite knowing what to do, Jodie noticed how they clung to her. At first it was difficult to tell they were wet, as all she could see was Amanda’s crotch and part of the seat of her pants, and those bits were so thoroughly wet that it gave the impression that that was their normal colour. But she had also glimpsed the front of Amanda’s pants, and they seemed to be a different shade of pink altogether.
“Are…are you OK?”, was all Jodie managed to say. Amanda was still lying there with her legs splayed. She wished the ground would swallow her. She could see Jodie standing there transfixed, and she knew the game was up. Blushing furiously, she raised herself onto her elbows and tried to look Jodie in the eyes, but she couldn’t. How was she going to explain this? Suddenly her pants felt cold and wet and horrible. She wished she’d never thought of this stupid idea of shitting and pissing herself outdoors. And talking of that, she was beginning to need a poo quite badly.
“Oh god, I’ve pissed myself”, was all she could say. Little Amanda wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but she wasn’t Little Amanda any more, she was Amanda Smith, who’d just been discovered wearing little girls’ underwear, soaked in urine. Maybe Jodie would think it had just happened when she fell over. Oh don’t be stupid, of course she wouldn’t. Amanda sat there miserably and waited for Jodie to laugh at her, or comment on her childish knickers, or the way she was dressed in general.
But Jodie didn’t seem inclined to do any of that. In fact, from what Amanda could tell, squinting up at her in the sunlight, she looked rather sympathetic. She was still staring, but she wasn’t laughing. She seemed mesmerised by Amanda’s pants. Once again, she held out her hand to help her up. This time, Amanda got a firm grip and hauled herself up. Little trickles of wee coursed down her legs. The seat of her pants sagged slightly underneath her skirt. “I’m really sorry”, was all she could think of to say. “It’s not your fault”, said Jodie gently. “Come on, let’s see how bad it is. Maybe you need to take them off.” Amanda couldn’t detect any malice in her voice. Surreally, she found herself lifting her skirt and turning her back. Jodie could now see the entire seat of her pants. If she was going to laugh, now would be the time she’d do it. But Jodie didn’t laugh. Instead, Amanda felt a hand on her bottom. Just for a couple of seconds, but it seemed to last for a lot longer. Jodie was checking her wetness! She didn’t mind getting Amanda’s pee on her hand! She felt her knickers being pulled out at the back, and heard them slapping wetly back against her bum. And then Jodie said in an awestruck voice, “My god, Amanda, you have done a lot”. “I know I have”, replied Amanda in a small voice. For a few seconds the two girls just stood there. Finally Amanda pulled her skirt down, covering her undies, and turned to face Jodie. Still blushing, her hair dishevelled, she said, “I’m in a bit of a state. I think I’d better get back home and get changed”. Jodie seemed to snap out of the trance she’d been in, and replied, “OK. But look, if you want, you can come back to my place I’ll help you change and put your stuff in the washing machine”. Amanda was about to reply that she lived nearby, and thanks, but she’d best just go back to her own place, but she stopped herself. It suddenly occurred to her that she was in a real-life wet pants situation, with someone offering comfort and help for what they thought was a genuine accident. Jodie seemed nice, and she didn’t seem to mind that Amanda had peed all over herself. She decided she wouldn’t mention that she lived nearby, and she wouldn’t mention that she had a change of underwear in her bag. Just go with the flow, as it were.
It was a ridiculous situation, though. Here she was, helpless and embarrassed, wearing strange clothes and arranging a pants-changing session with a total stranger. Not an unattractive one, either. She started to look more closely at her new friend. Petite, blonde, nice but quirky face. Faded blue jeans- wonder what kind of knickers she’s wearing- and a white top. Simple but effective. Little Amanda started to get naughty ideas. Ok then, go for it. “Have you got a spare pair I could change into while these are being washed?” she said, as casually as she could, given the circumstances. If this girl was going to help her change and wash her underwear, why shouldn’t she get a glimpse of what it would be like to be in her knickers?
Jodie’s reaction was unexpected. “Umm…n-no…I don’t think…”, she stammered. And then, more casually, “well… sure, but I’m not sure I’ve got any clean ones”. Amanda could tell something was amiss, but she wasn’t sure what. Had she overstepped the mark? “It’s OK, I don’t really need to wear underwear after all this!”. It didn’t really mean anything, but it made it sound as if she was OK either way. They looked at each other, unsure what either of them meant. ‘Well, let’s go", said Jodie. Silently, they trudged through the woods. Amanda could feel her knickers chafing and rubbing against her skin; not unpleasant, but things were getting so confusing that she wasn’t sure whether she was happy or sad. Jodie just walked on. Even in her own distracted state, Amanda could see that Jodie wasn’t happy. Why? Surely it was she who had offered the changing facilities?
Jodie suddenly stopped. “I need to have a rest”, she said, slightly breathlessly. “A rest?”, thought Amanda. The walk through the woods had hardly been taxing- and she was the one with the problem. Then she noticed Jodie was standing with her legs crossed. Did she need a wee, or was she just standing like that by chance? “Let’s just sit down over there, then”, she said, pointing to a log a few yards away. Jodie appeared reluctant to walk over to the log. “Anyway, you shouldn’t sit down or else your skirt’ll get wet”, Jodie answered, sounding strangely defensive. But the look in her eyes was frightened, rather than aggressive. But it was obvious that she didn’t want to move anywhere right now. “Do you need to pee?”, asked Amanda. It seemed strange that Jodie should be shy about peeing after what she herself had done. “Just go into the woods a bit- I won’t look!”. Jodie tried to laugh, but just looked flustered. “No, I don’t need to pee- I’m fine!” she said, unconvincingly. Several silent seconds passed, as Jodie struggled with whatever was bothering her. Amanda had a sudden desire to hug Jodie- to tell her that it was OK to go to the toilet, that she’d wet her own pants, why didn’t Jodie do the same- when Jodie did an enormous, bubbling fart. In a moment, Amanda realised what the problem was. She’d been there herself a thousand times, in reality and in fantasy. Jodie needed to do a poo! In fact, from the sound of it, Jodie might already have done it. Part of Amanda wanted Jodie to have an accident, the other half fervently hoped that she wouldn’t. She’d been so kind to her; why would she want this girl to humiliate herself in front of her? “You haven’t done it, have you?”, she said. “Get your jeans down and just do it here. I’ll turn my back”. It took a few seconds before Jodie was able to reply. Holding back had required her full attention. “No, it’s alright. I think I’ll be OK until we get back to my place. Anyway, there’s no toilet paper round here”. Once again Amanda battled with her conscience. She had toilet paper right there in her bag; should she offer it to her or not? Once again, the naughty ideas in her mind won the day. She kept silent.
Jodie appeared to have recovered a little, and they started to walk again. Amanda couldn’t help wondering whether Jodie had followed through in her pants; it had been a very wet fart. She didn’t appear to be walking strangely- just a bit fast- and, when Amanda held back on the pretext of adjusting her damp knickers, she couldn’t see any evidence of a mishap on the seat of Jodie’s jeans. She did have a nice visible panty line, however- she was definitely not wearing a thong, or skimpy knickers. Amanda really wanted to ask her if she’d already done anything in her pants, but she was too shy. As they walked, they chatted, but the nearer they got to the edge of the wood, the more silent and anxious Jodie became. Once more she had to stop and clamp down, only this time she gasped as a spasm overtook her. Amanda didn’t know where to look; Jodie was bright red with embarrassment and the effort of holding it in, and looked a bit foolish, to be honest. However, Amanda was well aware that she had also looked foolish in her wet pants, and Jodie hadn’t mocked her. At one point she gave a loud groan, and Amanda was sure she’d let at least a little bit escape. After a few minutes, Jodie was ready to walk again, and Amanda’s suspicions were confirmed. She was walking awkwardly, legs slightly too far apart. Once or twice she tugged at the seat of her jeans, pulling them away and downwards slightly. ‘Have you had a little accident?“, asked Amanda. “You can tell me if you have- it’s happened to me before”. A long silence, and then Jodie replied shyly, “well, I’ve just done a bit. Only a little bit”. Amanda’s heart missed a beat. Here she was, walking along in damp pants, with a girl who’d got messy knickers on. She really wanted to see Jodie’s knickers. Would she be able to tell from the outside what had happened on the inside? And what would they look like inside? “Look, Jodie. Don’t torture yourself. Just get your jeans and pants down and do the rest here. No-one’s around, and it’s going to be worse if you don’t”. But Jodie just continued walking stiff-legged towards the road. She was obviously determined to reach the safety of her house and go to the toilet properly.
As they came out of the wood and into the bright sunshine, Jodie came to an abrupt halt once more. 'I really don’t think I can make it. Just let me…“, and she clamped down hard once again. Her mouth was shut tight, and she was making little moaning sounds as she fought against the inevitable. Amanda just stood there, half excited, half fearful, as her new friend went through a private hell right in front of her eyes. In the end, it all happened very fast. Suddenly the moaning stopped, she uncrossed her legs, there was a soft "whomp” sound, and Jodie burst into tears. “I’m so sorry”, she sobbed, “I’ve done it in my pants!”. She stood there, legs apart, buckling slightly at the knees, her face buried in her hands. “Oh Jodie”, said Amanda softly, “come here”. And she gave Jodie a big hug. She could smell her accident, and she could feel her own pants rubbing against her, damp and cold. She couldn’t resist warming them up with a trickle of wee, and then another one. She was holding Jodie close, so she couldn’t see the little streams rolling down her legs.
She held Jodie until she’d stopped crying, and stepped back to look at her. She seemed rooted to the spot, not daring to move in case she disturbed the mess in her pants. “Come on, Jodie. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner we can sort both of us out”. She tried, with limited success, to keep the excitement out of her voice. She took Jodie’s hand and began to walk slowly along the road. “How are you feeling?”, she asked. “Horrible. Messy, sticky, yeuchh..” came the answer. Gradually, Jodie began to walk more normally. She’d obviously given up trying to keep the mess away from her bottom, and had resigned herself to a very dirty pair of knickers, not to mention jeans. What was beginning to both worry and excite Amanda was that she too was beginning to feel the need to poo. After all, that was what she’d gone into the woods to do, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to do it. She just didn’t know how all this was going to end.
At last they reached Jodie’s house. As Jodie turned the key in the lock, Amanda noticed a wet, dark stain beginning to appear on her jeans. If she played her cards right, maybe she’d get to see what it looked like underneath the jeans. The first hurdle was getting Jodie upstairs to the bathroom. She took ages to climb the stairs; Amanda followed right behind, her eyes glued to Jodie’s bottom. She could almost see the mess being squashed and moving from side to side- not quite, but she could easily imagine what was happening. She was starting to need the toilet quite badly now, and would have loved to rush ahead into the bathroom, but Jodie’s predicament took precedence now. She was in a far worse state than Amanda….
