When I was a teenager both of my parents worked, so during the summer I was home alone during the day. I started staying at home by myself from the age of 13, when I started high school.
Expected to do some chores, I quickly learned how to do the laundry. This was so I could indulge in some serious pants wetting and hide all the evidence. Every day I would wet something, jeans, shorts, underpants, pyjamas, makeshift towel diapers, I tried em all. I was very paranoid about getting caught, so most times I would have my "accidents" in the bathroom or toilet just before doing a load of washing, but sometimes ventured into the yard.
One day when I was 15, it was a great wetting day. I wore multiple pairs of undies and wet. It reminded me of my training pants. I later did it again in short pyjama bottoms, again triggering memories.
When that load of washing was on the line, there was enough for one more load, so that meant one more wetting! I hunted through my clothes and found an old pair of speedo bathers I hadn't worn in years. They were dark green, and I remembered them showing wetness very well. They were a bit small, but I squeezed into them.
Now I hadn't worn speedos since the onset of puberty, (late btw) but they would be perfect for an outside wetting for sure. If anyone did arrive unexpectedly than I could claim I was just enjoying the sunshine. I went outside wearing just those and no shirt. As I was a bit on the chubby side, I hadn't gone outside wearing no shirt and just briefs for years. I still remember how liberating it felt.
I was experimenting with cigarettes at the time, and snuck around the side of the house for a quick puff. Hiding and smoking made me feel incredibly naughty, and dressed as I was made me feel little.
I was just starting to come to terms with enjoying feeling little with the pants wetting etc. and each new experience was shaping me as I matured.
I finished my smoke and disposed of the butt. I had been outside for a while now, and thought I better get this wetting started. The spot I was in was nicely hidden, so would be perfect. I tried to pee standing upright with my legs together, but my bladder was fairly empty by now. I managed a small spurt, enough to make a small wet patch but that was all. I pushed a bit but it wasn't working.
Change of tactics required. I spread my legs wide and squatted down, looking like I was astride an invisible horse. I pushed harder, watching the fabric of my speedos to see what would happen.
I should have been watching the back.
With no warning, a large poo exploded out of me, followed by a wet fart and a rush of diarrhoea! I nearly fell over onto my butt, but thankfully didn't. It made a hell of a mess! Talk about panic! I'd had no warning or even hint that it was going to happen, and it was horrible. I had poop all over my butt, and even down one leg.
Trying to stay calm, I removed my briefs and emptied them under the bush I was hiding behind. I then got the hose and cleaned myself off. Naked, I snuck around to the back door and ran inside. I toweled off, got dressed , found a plastic bag and retrieved my ruined pants. I couldn't risk throwing them in our garbage can, so I rode my bike to the local shops and deposited the bag there.
When I got back, I was so relieved that I had gotten away with it. I put the last load of laundry on and started to relax. I still felt a bit shaky in the bowels, so went to the toilet to see if there was any left. I pulled down my sweat pants and got comfortable. When I looked down I noticed that I had indeed forgotten something. While I had hosed off, I never actually took the time to wipe before getting dressed. My white undies were covered in skid marks from the crotch to the waistband. As I realised that I had just ridden to the shop and back I felt weak. How close a call was that!
A quick shower, followed by another ride to the shops with another plastic bag full of soiled pants, and I was done!
I think that incident put me off being a pants pooper for good.