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In a cramped, dimly lit room, a man in a Tena nappy squirms, trying to hold it in. But nature has other plans. The nappy starts to fill, the weight becoming noticeable. He grunts, trying to maintain his composure as the wetness spreads, soaking through the fabric. His face contorts in a mix of discomfort and relief as he finally lets go, a river of piss flowing into the nappy, leaving him in a mess of his own making.