The Boy Who Wasn’t allowed to “GO”

When I was seven years-old, my Mom took my four Sisters and I on a Car trip to my Aunts place which was about a 7 hour car trip away. Four hours into the trip, I had to pee. ‘Mom, I have to pee’, my big Sister giggled. My Mom replied with, ‘Hold it ‘till we get there’, which wasn’t an unusual answer for her when I asked that question on Car trips. Mom never allowed me to pee on car trips, she believes that Boys need to learn to be strong sometimes so they can take care of a Family and protect a Women one day, she was an old school Christian Mama from Louisiana. She always used to say, especially during Car Trips, “No matter how much the tears flow, you better hold that go”. She would sometimes say basically the same thing to my Sisters but with them it was “No matter how much you need to sprinkle, you better hold that tinkle”, but the only time she would ever really make them hold their pee is as a punishment when the acted out particularly bad, otherwise she would always stop so they could pee. So with three hours to go, me and my poor little seven year-old bladder would have to resist the the flow or “die” trying.

One hour later my mom stoped at a gas station so her and my sisters could pee and to get us snacks, as I walked in side the gas station and looked around while waiting I couldn’t help but look at the Boys room which was agonizingly tempting to me, Clair who was one of my two younger sisters, teased me by saying “Awhhhhhhhhhh, what a relief”,which made my other three sisters laugh. “Okay kids I’m almost done here, go wait for me in the car”, my mom told us as she finished up with the cashier.

By this point my little bladder felt like a small water balloon, which meant it wasn’t quite yet at the point when I need a full on potty dance, but just enough to make me do a small shift or two in my seat once every few minutes. Of corse my mom not being done with the cashier yet my sisters took the opportunity to tease me mercilessly about needing to pee. Rosie, who was my oldest sister, started singing ‘Waterfalls’ by Beyoncé. My second oldest sis decided it was a good time to remind me not to think about ‘tinkle toilets’, my other sis you was one of the twins who where both younger then me, decided to make flowing water sounds and going “awhhhhhhhhh” with grin. “Okay little critters, off we go”, my mama said happily. The we hit a speed bump on our way out and where off.

About an hour later my bladder was about an 7 on a scale of 1-10, which was enough to make me grab my self and cross my legs, “Mom, I really have to pee”, I whined. “You better hold it Boy”, she said rather sternly, “ You better keep that urine inside that penis of yours”, which caused all my sisters to laugh and my oldest sister to say in a rather babyish tone, “Baby has a penis”. After the end of the last hour was about 10 minutes away, my mom decided to stay in a motel instead of that crowded house which was housing 8 other Family members for the weekend we where staying in town, so we existed the freeway and found a motel.

At this point my little seven year-old bladder was absolutely bursting, I was in a full on sit down potty dance, complete with legs crossing, toes clenching, squirming, worming, shifting, bouncing and of course the dance move which is probably the signature move of the little boy pee-pee dance, the crotch grab. My sore little penis felt like a swollen hose about to burst. “Don’t you pee, don’t you pee”, my Mama said stern, “Don’t you dare pee-pee in this car or your little bottom is going to be as sore as that pee-pee of yours”, “Yes ma’am, yes ma’am”, I said in a squeaky voice with a teary-eyed red little face. We parked grabbed our stuff and went to the lobby to check in.

As we went up to the counter to check in I was in a dance to save my life, hoping and bouncing, jumping and bouncing and every dance move in between to the delight of my sisters. “Okay ma’am, I need your credit card, triple A card and an i.d.”, the receptionist said to my mother. The receptionist then looked down at me and said with a smile in a sweet comforting voice, “Hey there sweetheart, do you really need to go potty?”, “Yes, really really bad”, I said in my squeaky desperate voice”, “Well then, you better be a strong little man and wait if mama tells you to wait, even bladder listen to mama”. Then, it happened, I just couldn’t hold on it anymore. A gusher of pee started shooting out of my little pee-pee. Then after the room was ready, we headed up to the room and my now sore butt went straight to bed, not looking forward to a day holding it in tomorrow now that lost my bathroom privileges for the whole day as punishment.

Holy wall o’ text batman!

I’ve seen way longer text on this and other sites. Do you have any respectful advice on how to structure it better ? If so I’m all ears. What is your opinion on the story ?

double-spacing between paragraphs is your (and others) friend.

I tried that but I’m using my cell phone and therefore I don’t have all of the keys that would allow me to do that. Is there any other way I could do it.

I guarantee your cellphone has an enter/return key. On most devices it’s the last key on the bottom row when on the keyboard with the letters.

Okay thank you. I found the key. What did you think of the story ? Any complements and even constructive criticisms are welcome.

Well, I can see that both this and your other work are quick one-offs focusing almost entirely on desperation. I will say that is not my particular cup of tea so I’m probably not the best judge.

The premise, somehow even among all the other stuff on this site, is iffy–uncomfortable even. A mother forcing her son to hold it for no reason other than he’s a boy, never letting him use the toilet, forcing an accident and then punishing him. If this led into something more compelling, perhaps. But unwarranted mistreatment alone is rather disturbing.

As for the formatting, the paragraph breaks you added are nice, but it’s also generally accepted that you break a line for each time the speaker changes. I would suggest picking up any book with dialogue for examples of how it should look.

Again–and my other points aside–desperation-focused stories aren’t really my thing. So I encourage you to improve and keep trying even if I don’t like it.

Carry on.


I understand how you can feel that it’s disturbing, but I’ve seen other stuff on the site that is very disturbing a lot more disturbing than this. That being said, I appreciate the advice thank you :slight_smile: :slight_smile: I am going to write an adult baby story and an adult little story, but I just haven’t had any ideas for it quite yet I’m sure I will get there sometime in the near future. Thanks for the encouragement with the words carry-on I appreciate it :slight_smile:

I looked at other stories on the site right after I responded and found out what she meant but thank you for the advice anyway I appreciate it :slight_smile:

Yeah, I get that you have a fascination with toilet denial, but I’m not feeling it. It’s a vignette, and it’s definitely about a little boy who has to pee and his cruel mother who refuses to let him. But the last sentence is over the top to me. His punishment for wetting is an entire day of wetting, since she wasn’t going to let him use the bathroom at all? It just reads like a whole lot of wish fulfillment and self-insertion. Sorry I don’t have more positive things to say.

To each their own. You being a broad member, are you saying you want me to take it down ? I don’t view it as being any weirder or over the top as being a little or adult baby.

I kind of like this cruel little stories. But I think you should write more detailed. The boy didn’t even asked to use the bathroom at the rest stop and the wetting was sadly “off screen”

1 Like

OK, I’ll take that advice next time I write a story. It’s really good advice. I’ll check out your page now…Sorry it took me so long to reply to you.