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The worst part about going on a trip like this with his dad is getting there. Ever since Jean was a kid and his mom left, long drives have been nothing but trouble. Jean’s dad likes to talk. If there is one thing that man actually enjoys besides booze, is the sound of his own voice. So when you're trapped with him in a moving metal box for five hours, four of them will be filled with war time stories and tales of misogynistic times with friends.
Jean's plan for surviving the road trip was to get himself ready for his mission. He wants to have many accidents on this trip to insure his enrollment in Camp Unders, but he has never wet himself publicly before. In fact, he is pretty sure his body will physically fight it. Jean’s dad wasn't a very good parent but if there is one thing he did right, it's potty train. So Jean’s hours in the car were going to be spent getting as desperate as possible so his body really didn't have a choice come dinner time at whatever seaside diner his father chooses once they arrive.
The plan was simple, drink as much as he can without looking or seeming suspicious, get to their destination and go out to eat with dad, and publicly humiliate himself and his father to the point that he will pretty much have to think about finding a solution to Jean’s newly formed pants wetting problem, Giving Jean the perfect opportunity to swoop in with the Camp Unders brochure he printed out and has hidden under his underwear in his suitcase, but of course, things don't always go as planned.
The first issue started before the trip even got on its way, Jean overslept. Or well, to any normal human, Jean was asleep at a normal time. His dad wanted to leave at four in the morning, something about this circadian rhythm doesn't let him sleep past four anyways so they might as well not waste time. Jean was basically startled awake by his dad ripping his blanket off of him from the foot of his bed, and thrown into the car in his Pajamas, his dad saying he waited long enough and he could just sleep in the car, which he did.
He fell asleep pretty much instantly, and he welcomed it because if he was sleeping, that meant his dad couldn't talk his ear off. He woke up to a groggy, heavy feeling in his lower half, and at first was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't even had to over hydrate himself, he just accumulated a full bladder naturally in his sleep. When he woke up, they were not quite half way, but Jean noticed that the car was nearing empty. By the time they got to the gas station to fill up and without being said, empty their own tanks, Jean was starting to feel the pressure more than he intended.
He had to go. If he wasn't up to no good, he would have thanked the heavens for the timely stop to empty his bladder. He even thought about going to the restroom and trying to empty just a little bit of what he is holding to make things more comfortable for himself, but that option was taken away from him rather quickly when his dad angrily announced he couldn't even get his cup of morning joe because the inside of the gas station isn't open yet. Jean thought, ‘that's what you get for making us leave at the ass-crack of dawn.’ before getting back into the car.
He assumed his dad was going to look for another place to stop to get his coffee and possibly empty his own bladder, but forty-five minutes went by, his Dad telling him the story of the time he and his friends snuck into a nudie bar in Singapore in the seventies. Jean ignored all the details about the ‘special backroom’ he and his buddies paid from, the whole thing sounds like a literary nightmare to his asexual ass. He was more focused on the swelling roundness in his mid-section, being squished uncomfortably by his seat belt.
He looked at his phone and realized, they still have four hours left in the car and with a full tank now, they could easily make it there without any stops. Having made up his mind about letting a little but out to ensure he can make it to the cafe and stick to his plan, he gives in and speaks up,
“Can we stop?” Jean doesn't wait for a break in his dads story, he just blurts it out.
“We just fucking stopped! Why do we need to stop again?” His dad shouts, looking into the back seat at Jean. He chose to sit back here to sleep, but now, it just feels weird, like his dad is watching him like a little kid.
“I have to take a piss.” Jean shouts back, not liking that he has to explain why they need to stop, as if that's not the reason anyone asked for a break during a road trip.
“Hold it, your a pretty much grown, it's not like we're going cross country- you know that reminds me of when me and Harold flew to Kore-” And just like that, the empty space of the car is filled with his dad’s voice, and he is still uncomfortably full of pee.
Uncomfortably full was an understatement. Jean was bursting. Three hours into the five hour trip and he was a wiggly mess. The fact that he didn't go after dinner last night because he was planning on reading a fanfic one of his favorite authors posted and wanted to be full of piss when he read it, and inevitably jerked off to it, was a good idea at the time and he had a good time, but after he finished and cleaned himself up, he fell right asleep. Then he didn't get a chance to use the bathroom this morning, and its already nearing eight in the morning…dinner was at around seven, so that's over twelve hours worth of pee sitting inside him begging to escape.
Jean looks at his dad, who at this point, thankfully has stopped talking and is just listening to some old jazz CD he always keeps in the car's CD player. He is sitting in the back seat, with his blanket from this morning draped over his legs, holding himself to keep everything contained. He asked his dad to stop once they passed another town, but he just ignored him, now things were getting bad.
The idea of doing what he originally was going to do has been tickling around his mind. Just let a little out. He has a blanket to cover himself and the seats aren't leather in the back seat, they're plush so it should soak it up. He doesn't want to just flat out wet himself in the car, that's no fun and knowing his dad, he would have to sit in it the entire rest of the trip, and that is disgusting. Jean might like piss and wetting and holding, but he doesn't particularly like the smell or the feeling of it cooling in his jeans. When he wets at home, he changes almost immediately after he wets.
He decides to ask one more time before he does anything, hoping his dad will have a change of heart.
“Can we stop already? I have to fucking piss!” Jean speaks up over the music,
“Jesus Christ! You're like a broken record. Fine, I'll find somewhere in the next town.” Jean is surprised by the response, but when the next green side on the side of the road comes into view a few moments later, he sees the next town is the one they are headed to, and its over 150 miles away. That's too far.
Feeling like he has no choice but to relieve some of the pressure by well, relieving himself, Jean sits and spreads his legs, making sure the blanket is covering himself mostly. He moves his hands away from himself and part of him is expected to start peeing instantly, but nothing happens. He still feels the warmth on the tip of his cock, like his piss is sitting right there, ready to come out, but it doesn't. He shifts slightly and tries again, he feels it, the feeling he usually gets right before he pees but nothing happens. This is exactly why he needs to be desperate to wet himself later, his mental block about peeing himself in public is very strong.
“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, He wants to scream, he needs to let some of it out, it hurts, his stomach and his dick actually hurts from how bad he has to go. He has never even let himself get this full during one of his holds, he always ends up caving and wetting himself before it gets this bad. He closes his eyes, willing his body to let go and it works.
He doesn't even realize it at first, only once he feels the trickle of wetness under his ass does he open his eyes. His stream is fast and uncontrollable, thankfully the sound of the radio along with his dads shot hearing drowns out the loud hiss of pee leaving him, after a few seconds of steady wetting, Jean decided he should slow down and stop, feeling the seat of his pants are thoroughly soaked, he tries to stop it but nothing happens, piss keeps pouring out of him.
“Fuck! Fuck!” He panics, forgetting where he is, he clamps his hands down and thrashes around,
“What? What?!” His dad yells from the front seat, looking back at his son seemingly freaking out for no reason.
“Pull over now! Im pissing, Im fucking pissing!” He yells, At this point, the relief is feeling so good he, his words are hazy as he leaves his mouth, but he is still trying to stop it, he didnt want to wet himself right now.
“Are you crazy! Don't piss in my car! And I'm not stopping! That's illegal and as a former soldi-”
“Either you pull the fuck over and I finish on the side of the road, or Im pissing in your car, scratch that I already am pissing look!” Jean yanks the blanket off of his lap with one hand, revealing his gray pajama pants soaked down to his knees, warm yellow liquid pooling between his clenched legs as both him and his Dad stare at it.
“Shit, Jean. Why didn't you say something sooner?” Jean feels the car drifting off to the side of the road. His stream quickly loses its velocity as his overworked bladder muscles try to expel every ounce of liquid inside of him.
“I fucking did, Fuck. I-” Jean feels the stream come to and end right as he reaches for the door handle. “I asked you three hours ago! Fuck. it's too late, drive.” Jean crosses his arms over his chest, just staring down at his lap, this was his first genuine accident since he was a kid, and it brings back bad memories, the last time it happened, way back then was also because of his dad.
Jean is startled out of him sulking by his car door being yanked open,
“Fuckin, wipe up the seat with that blanket and toss it over the guard rail when your done same with your pants, ill grab you something from your bag and you can sit in the front…” His dad stands, on the side of the road, looking at him with a look he hasn't seen since his mom left, guilt.
“okay.” Jean gets out and starts to wipe down the seat with his blanket, ending the cleaning escapade but stripping his pajama pants off while his dad holds up the wet blanket to black him from the opposite lanes of traffic.
“Thanks.” Jean takes the blanket and his clothes after he is changed into his jeans and a new t-shirt and tosses them off the side of the highway overpass, he watches them land on the grassy bank below.
“Now can we get a move on? Or do you need to curl your hair before we can go?” Jean rolls his eyes, getting into the Passenger seat beside his dad, feeling rather embarrassed for someone who was planning on doing this exact same thing, but in front of a restaurant full of people.
“Next time, use a fuckin bottle like a real man.” Jean's dad hands him an empty gatorade bottle from the cup holder, and he laughs, thinking ‘next time it's going to be my pants.’ the little blip in his plan not weakening his resolve for Pissmission: pants off to be a success...