Gaste85's body betrays him, the urge to release overwhelming. He rushes to the bathroom, but it's too late. His pants darken, the fabric clinging to his skin as the liquid flows freely. He looks down at the mess, disgust and humiliation washing over him. He quickly strips, throwing the soiled clothes in the bin, but the evidence of his accident remains, a damp patch on the bed, a constant reminder of his loss of control.