One of my earliest experiences of desperation and wetting was when my Dad, my two brothers and I were in church for a regular service. After about half an hour, I felt the need to go to the toilet. I tugged at my Dad’s trousers. He snapped, “Why can’t you hold it in?” I cried a little, and didn’t say a word.
Fifteen minutes later, and the need to go got stronger. I was fidgeting badly by now. Dad told me to stop it and got angry with me.
Why didn’t you go before we came out?” he asked.
“I didn’t need to then,” I replied, unhappily.
I was shifting wildly, both standing up and sitting down on the seat and pinching my penis very sharply in a desperate bid to prevent the flow. Suddenly, I jerked a little, and a little pee flowed into my trousers. I shouted to Dad, “I need to go, now, please let me use the toilet!” My brothers were giggling at each other at this point, teasing me about my plight. “Ohhh, he needs a wee-wee!” one of them laughed.
Dad felt enough was enough and dragged me over to the front entrance. However, when we got outside, I stood with my legs apart and let go a torrent of pee. It cascaded through my trousers, soaking them, and left a puddle on the ground.
I just stood there crying and Dad was furious with me. He slapped me several times across my wet bum and ordered me back to church. When I got home, I got slapped by my Mum as well for not holding it in. I still remember the incident as if it happened yesterday.