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Avoid slopes, if you can. If you do find yourself on a slope, turn so that you are facing downhill. This way, your urine will drain away from you, and not back towards you.

Find a place that is at least feet If you go too close to any of these places, you risk contaminating the water supply and spreading illness.

Method 2 of Get your clothes and underwear out of the way. Not only are wet clothes uncomfortable, but staying wet can lead to infections.

Once you have gotten your skirt, dress, shorts, or pants out of the way, pull your underwear down until it is half-way down your thighs. If you are wearing a skirt or a dress, pull it up by the hem until it is at waist level.

If the dress or skirt is full, with a lot of fabric, bunch everything up in front of you. There should be no fabric hanging behind you.

If you are wearing shorts or pants, unbutton and unzip them first. Then, pull them half-way down your thighs. Do not let them go past your knees, or they may get wet.

Try the crouch or squatting position. Place your feet a little more than shoulder-width apart and squat down. Keep your balance by leaning forward.

If you are having trouble keeping your balance, try to touch the ground in front of you with one hand. Use your hand to hold shorts or pants close to your knees.

Try sitting between two objects. Find two objects, such as rocks or logs. Sit down on the edge of one object, and rest your feet up on the other.

Scoot forward so that your privates are right above the ground. They should not touch the object you are sitting on. Also, make sure that your thighs are not touching.

Try to avoid the puddle. Throne Technique. For this method, find a tree and lean your back against it. Your thighs should be parallel to the ground. Ensure your feet are planted squarely on the ground.

You should feel as though you are sitting on an imaginary throne. Tripod technique. Grip tightly onto a tree trunk. Your feet should be at the base of the trunk.

Like the throne technique, this is also good for young children. Consider going into a wide-mouthed bottle. Kneel down on the ground and place the bottle between your legs.

Eliminate into the bottle. You can also hold it up to your urethra if you prefer. Be sure to label the bottle, and not use it for any other purpose.

Always wipe yourself dry. If you do not dry yourself, you may get an infection. You can use baby wipes, tissue, toilet paper, or even a "pee rag.

Put the used paper into a plastic bag, and throw the bag away once you find a trashcan. If you are using baby wipes, or any other wet wipe, try to find one that does not contain alcohol.

Too much alcohol can kill both the good and bad bacteria. This could lead to urinary tract infections. You wipe yourself with it, then hang it out in the sun to dry.

Method 3 of Consider getting a female urination device. They are small enough to keep in your purse or bag. Some are disposable while others are reusable.

You can buy them online. Some stores that sell backpacking and camping supplies may also sell them. They look like funnels, except that the top is slanted.

Female urination devices may also be called: FUD, female urination aid, stand-to-pee device, or portable urination device.

Consider practicing with one ahead of time. Before you plan on taking a female urination device with you to an event or a camping trip, you may want to practice with one in the shower.

They can take some time getting used to. The last thing you'd want is using it for the first time on a trip, and ending up with splatters and dribbles.

Unbutton your pants or lift your skirt up and out of the way. This device will allow you to urinate while standing up, but you will still have to get access to your privates.

Move your underwear to the side. Hold the underwear by the leg hole against your thigh. If you are wearing tight pants, you may need to lower them a little in order to reach.

Position the device against your privates. Press the cup part against your body. The pointy spout needs to be aimed towards the ground, and away from your feet.

Make sure that the end of the spout is lower than the back of the funnel. Know how to clean up when you are done.

Be sure to wipe yourself front to back to avoid bringing any germs from behind to the front. Clean well or you may get an infection.

If you have access to water, you can also rinse your device off right away. If you do not have access to water, put the device into a re-sealable bag or the container it came in , and wash it later.

I have been riding in car with my boyfriend for eight hour and he has peed in a Gatorade bottle, but he has not stopped to let me pee. I am desperate, if I pee myself he will abuse me.

What do I do? Reporter: To come to Miami to take part in a new growing part of the porn industry. I locked everything in my car. Reporter: So-called amateur porn.

Amateur porn world. You are just processed meat. Reporter: Girls like Carly brought up in a generation that porn seems to be everywhere.

People on porn having sex and nothing going wrong and everybody's happy. It's really confusing. Reporter: And this girl who is worried her family in a small town may find out what she is doing.

I have this weird feeling my mom knows. Reporter: Rachel seems like your typical girl next door from rural, Illinois.

Not long ago you could catch her playing the clarinet in the high school band, a self described nerd from a religious family. I was like an introvert.

I wasn't popular. Reporter: Youthful, innocent, naive, just what porn consumers apparently crave. I had sex with two people before I went and did porn.

Reporter: According to the Kenzie institute, one of the few research institutes that study the adult film industry, teen is the most searched word on porn sites.

A lot of them look like the girl next door. All of these sites that say watch real girls, like real year-olds get naked for the first time.

A lot of that is in fact what is happening. It is all about the guy getting off. Reporter: In their new documentary "Hot girls wanted" film makers spent months following Rachel and other teen girls capturing the risks and harsh realities of amateur porn work.

There's an influx of girls trying to do porn. A lot of them know it's a trap but the money in their face right now, cash.

They take it and hope for the best. Reporter: The allure for some money for college, but for just about every girl a chance at fame.

I just wanted to be famous. Famous like Julia Roberts famous? No, like Kim Kardashian famous. Reporter: The hunt for these unsuspecting girls is alarmingly simple.

It begins with a craigslist post, hot girls wanted, a modeling job you get paid and free airfare. They e-mailed me and said it was adult entertainment.

I thought I was going to go there and do one or two and come back. Reporter: For Rachel it was a way out fast. I'm sure there were other options but they weren't quick enough options.

Reporter: It is Rachel's first plane ride ever and landed her in Miami in a life she hadn't imagined. I'm like oh, god, I'm actually doing this.

Are you kidding me? When I got back to my hotel I noticed a little blood on my penis evidently from what happened after the penetration.

In your opinion what was my risk of contrating HIV from vaginal fluids that remained on my penis during the grinding motion?

What is my overall risk? I'm positive that she had HIV. Why else would she be so reckless? Please respond. I am extremely anxious about this and am experiencing symptoms that could be related to HIV.

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Make sure that the end of the spout is lower than the back of the funnel. Know how to clean up when you are done. Be sure to wipe yourself front to back to avoid bringing any germs from behind to the front.

Clean well or you may get an infection. If you have access to water, you can also rinse your device off right away.

If you do not have access to water, put the device into a re-sealable bag or the container it came in , and wash it later. I have been riding in car with my boyfriend for eight hour and he has peed in a Gatorade bottle, but he has not stopped to let me pee.

I am desperate, if I pee myself he will abuse me. What do I do? Evelyn Nation. No one deserves to be treated like that.

If he says no and you pee your pants and he abuses you, call the police! Also, and this should really go without saying, break up with him immediately.

Not Helpful 37 Helpful If you don't have a vagina, you probably have a penis, in which case peeing outside will be a lot easier. Not Helpful 83 Helpful Pee stains are the same as hiding period stains.

Tie a sweater, jacket, or scarf around your waist. Not Helpful Helpful Meowers Apologize, and tell the person that it was an emergency and that you couldn't hold it.

Not Helpful 60 Helpful What happens if I am camping and my daughter sees me? What do I say if she asks what am I doing? Use the opportunity to teach your daughter that the body and bodily functions are not shameful.

Explain the situation and then talk to her about normal things. Not Helpful 77 Helpful Tom De Backer. If you urgently need to go, that is more important than gender separation.

Not Helpful 50 Helpful Go to the nearest bathroom and put water all over the pee stain and then spread it farther up toward your waist.

Make it look like a big spill. Then stand in front of the hand dryer and blow your pants dry. If anyone asks, just tell them you spilled something on your pants.

Just let loose and let it go down the drain, then cover the smell with soap or shampoo. Not Helpful 30 Helpful It is a bit of a strange habit.

It certainly isn't "wrong," assuming you wash up afterwards, but it would be pretty awkward if you were seen by neighbors or anyone passing by.

You can still pee outside, just realize that you may also bleed a little, so keep your undies well away from the flow. You can do it, women have done so for millennia and beyond and haven't being revolved by it.

Not Helpful 94 Helpful Include your email address to get a message when this question is answered. Wear a diaper or incontinence pad on long haul hikes in areas that don't provide much privacy, especially if you are incontinent.

This will save you from finding a private place to do your business. Helpful 9 Not Helpful 4. If you do not have access to wipes, wait until the area air-dries completely.

Wet underwear are not only uncomfortable, but they are also a breeding ground for bacteria. Helpful 9 Not Helpful 2. Related wikiHows.

More References 3. Co-authors: Updated: February 19, Categories: Discreet Bodily Etiquette. Italiano: Urinare all'Aperto per Donne. Nederlands: Buiten plassen als vrouw.

Thanks to all authors for creating a page that has been read 1,, times. She even prefers it to using a toilet. Anonymous Apr 24, When I walk home, I have a desire to pee in the trip and relieve myself in the street in the gutter or against a tree when there is one.

Thanks to this article I know that there are female urination devices. Anonymous Aug 2, Also, great tips for helping to deal with accidents and on-th-go toilet paper.

Anonymous Aug 19, Pretty cool. I'm gonna get one. Thanks for the info. I love wikiHow's clear, concise instructions, along with the pictures.

Very handy site. Can find almost any answer that I'm searching for on here. Ashalina Spinks Aug 15, I also show my sisters what I learned.

Thank you, wikiHow, you're amazing. Vera Ewing Jul 10, The female urination device info was new and insightful.

Anonymous Aug 10, I used to have what you might consider a fear. Was frightened to go before, and this just made it easier.

Doni L. Jun 17, Thanks so much. Tina Baca Jul 10, Anonymous Jun 24, Anonymous Aug 3, I always need to pee, so this really helped me out.

Thanks so much! Anonymous Aug 6, Anonymous Dec 17, Hunt Aug 18, I never ever knew that there were things like this for women.

Thanks for the info! Lola L. Aug 23, EmmiBlaze Apr 17, It was so helpful, thanks! Sophia Copiuy Mar 16, Mello Bia Jul 1, Definitely recommend it.

Anonymous Aug 21, Anonymous Jun 26, Emily Kay Aug 12, Anonymous Jul 14, Anonymous Jun 19, Ann Gil Aug 6, Maddy James Dec 31, Anonymous Jun 27, Anonymous Jul 15, Jessica Jeffer Jul 3, Anonymous Jul 17, More reader stories Hide reader stories.

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More success stories Hide success stories. Follow Us. One such wrinkle had formed so deeply on her chest that her left breast had actually been swallowed up between the folds of skin.

Only a strict regimen of bathing, in warm salty water, for at least twelve hours a day, would allow her body to absorb enough moisture to bring back the robust, smooth surface of the skin.

The doctors did not approve, they stood there in their examining rooms with the silly, shocked expressions on their faces, blustering nonsense about healthy eating habits and the dangers of hyperobesity, but they did not understand.

It was clear that they could never understand; clear in the way they squeezed the precious water from her arms, clear from the way they insisted she see a specialist.

No, she had given up on doctors years ago. Opening the cabinet under the sink, Molly chose from among the cases of bath cubes, bath oil beads, bottles of bubble bath and bath salts.

For tonight, a dozen beads of mandarin orange would do, and a cube of lavender. Then a cup and a half There was enough hot water now; she turned on the cold.

She went to the door and, opening it a crack, yelled, "Lillian! Come here. Minutes later, when Molly had tested the water and found the temperature to her liking, there was a knock at the door.

When she opened it and peeped through the crack, she saw a plate lying on the floor, with a mound of macaroni, a pool of beans in tomato sauce, and a pile of miniature egg rolls.

Beside the plate were the two packages of cigarettes. Making sure nobody could see, she pushed the door wider open, grabbed the plate and cigarettes, and closed and locked the door.

She climbed into the bath with a sigh of relief, and devoured the food hungrily. Molly lay in the bathtub for hours, occasionally rolling over to immerse a different part of her body.

When the water cooled down she would use her feet to turn on the hot water tap, until the temperature was pleasant once more.

She listened to Mozart, Vivaldi, the Temptations; she turned on the television and watched the game show channel, her favourite. And while she lay in the tub, something wonderful happened.

Molly's body began to grow. The wrinkles and craters slowly disappeared as her skin soaked up the life-giving water.

The rolls and folds expanded and swelled, as when one puffs air into a wrinkled air mattress, until her skin inflated to its full capacity, and by this time Molly had grown so large that her buttocks, calves and feet completely filled the bathtub.

Refreshed and reassured, Molly slept. Outside the room childish wars were fought, insincere treaties agreed to, then broken, messes were made, expeditions were launched, and Molly snoozed on.

A little girl of about seven years stayed up all night, doing load after load of laundry on the orders of an older sister, occasionally lapsing into temporary unconsciousness, slumped like a rag-doll in a smelly laundry basket, only to be awoken by the buzz of the washer or the ding of the dryer and, gummy-eyed, replace clean with dirty or dry with wet.

The noise of juvenile activity diminished but never stopped and at seven in the morning, some grumpy teenaged girls began to make the family breakfast.

After a heated discussion as to what would be an appropriate meal, they began to make a large batch of french fries.

The lobster pot was placed on the stove and a pair of little boys were rousted from their beds and set to work peeling and slicing potatoes.

Soon the oil was subtly boiling, and plates of french fries were passed to the far corners of the house, where tousled children crawled from various nooks and crannies to devour them.

But the making of deep-fried vegetable products has its hazards. A handful of raw potato was hurled too boisterously into the lobster pot, a dollop of oil splashed out, and soon the stovetop was in flames.

With a lightning-quick assessment of the situation, a teenaged boy grabbed a tea towel and began to swat at the fire. The tea towel was joined by a soiled apron, wielded by another pair of eager hands and, amazingly, the flames were soon extinguished.

But the tea towel was now on fire. With a gasp of mixed surprise and pain, the boy tossed the tea towel toward the back door.

It landed on the patch of spilled garbage, and soon this mess, tricycle tracks and all, was alight and burning merrily. The mishap had been promoted to a disaster; it was now beyond the scope of the children to deal with it, and they began to run around in a panic.

Some of them ran outside to safety but, confused, ran back inside. Their sharpness of mind, normally well-honed due to too much independance, lost its gleam and they ran around in circles, willy-nilly, occasionally bumping into one another.

All, that is, except Donny. The youngest at five and a half, perhaps he was too small to realize the danger of the predicament.

He did not panic. He marched determinedly along the hallway to the bathroom, pounded on the door and shouted, "Mommy! The kitchen's on fire!

Molly did not hear him at first. She mumbled in her sleep and tried to roll over, but was too tightly wedged in the tub to move. Her right arm flopped against the edge of the tub and knocked the ashtray to the floor.

The sound of the ashtray breaking woke her and, blinking wearily, she heard Donny thumping on the door, and slowly perceived what the small, muffled voice was saying.

Kitchen on fire. Molly snapped awake and sprang into immediate action. She tried to get up, realized she was stuck, and pushed downward on the edges of the tub.

Her buttocks emerged with the sound of two champagne corks popping, and she was free. Leaping to her feet, she rushed to the door and unhooked it. As the door swung open, Molly saw Donny rush crying into a nearby bedroom.

Her sudden emergence had frightened him. The next thing she saw was smoke, filling the top half of the hallway.

At this point Molly began to scream blood-curdling war cries. She sprinted along the hallway towards the kitchen, thinking nothing about danger to herself, driven only by the need to protect her children.

The run along the hallway happened as if in a dream. It seemed to take forever to get there, as if time had slowed. Molly's feet crushed toys that lay in the hall.

The telephone table got in her way and was reduced to splinters. As she rounded the corner, still whooping, her knee banged into the wall and took out a chunk of plaster the size of a watermelon.

When the children saw her coming they shrieked in terror and ran wildly to get out of her way. And wherever Molly touched, she left behind a splash of water.

Deep puddles showed where her feet struck the floor. In the cavity in the wall where her knee had gone through the plaster, a splash of water penetrated the worn insulation of some wiring and, with a flash, the ceiling light in the hallway went out.

Simultaneously six radios, two stereos, three televisions, and both washer and dryer fell silent.

All that was left was the unfamiliar morning light from outside and the splashing sound of Molly's feet landing on the faded hall carpet, punctuated by her hysterical screeching.

She skidded to a halt at the end of the hallway, where she could see through the open doorway into the kitchen. For a moment there was silence, except for the quiet crackling of the fire.

The children, shocked motionless by the appearance of Molly, huge, naked, and bloated with moisture to the point of bursting, stood there with their mouths hanging open, staring at her, unable to believe their eyes.

Molly gazed with horror at the pile of burning garbage, and her eyes roamed about the room, searching for something with which to smother the flames, but towels and tablecloth had already been burnt in futile attempts to put out the fire.

There was no fire extinguisher. Desperate, Molly ran across the room, whooping and crying, and threw herself bodily upon the flames. The children gasped in anguish as they watched their mother roll on the burning trash.

As Molly's flesh pressed against the fire, water poured from her skin like from a soaked sponge, putting out the flames. A great cloud of steam rose into the air, temporarily blocking the children's view of the terrible scene.

As Molly fought the fire, still screaming like a banshee, she realized the power of her bloated body, and began to stamp and crush at stubborn patches with her forearms, her calves, her breasts.

For a few moments she worried, feeling a rapid depletion of the precious moisture, built up over so many hours of careful attention, but her efforts won out in the end.

Using her buttocks to squish out a last patch of burning rubbish, she then sat and slowly caught her breath, as the steam began to disperse.

The fire out, her panic gone, she finally stopped shrieking and took stock of her surroundings. The kitchen was damaged, but not as seriously as she might have feared.

Some scooping, some sweeping, and maybe a carefully placed carpet would be enough to hide the burnt patch of floor. The walls and ceiling were stained a sooty silver by the smoke, and that highlighted and carefully outlined all of the cobwebs, which were embarrassingly plentiful.

The children now stood motionless in a semicircle around Molly, their mouths hanging open, their eyes dilated with shock. They seemed to be somewhat overwhelmed by her physical appearance.

She looked down at her steaming body, and was horrified at what she saw. The gradual dehydration that built up over a normal day at work was nothing compared to this!

Though unburned, her skin had seemingly lost every ounce of moisture it contained, and hung in drooping folds, which were prevented from drooping further by the presence of more drooping folds, and on and on from her neck to her ankles.

Why, she looked like a bald Shar Pei! Upset as she was to realize this, she was suddenly aware that she was sitting on the floor, totally naked, in front of all of her children who had not even seen her face in the previous five years, not to mention that there were at least a dozen children there who were complete strangers to her!

She squeaked, and tried to cover herself with her hands. This inadequate display of modesty seemed to trigger the children into action.

Most of them withdrew from the room. Others fainted. Some just politely turned away. Molly climbed clumsily to her feet, and with dignity walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.

She pulled the plug and allowed the tub to drain. Replacing the plug, she turned on the hot water and rummaged around in the cabinet, choosing vanilla bath cubes and lemon-scented bubble bath.

While the tub filled, she thought about the disaster the family had so narrowly avoided.

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