The Diet

She rapped loudly at the door. “What’s taking so long? Get out already!”
I was mildly annoyed. What was this woman’s problem? It was Marie’s voice, I realized. That particular co–worker of mine was a little uptight – especially since she lost that weight – but I brushed it off and figured she was just cranky. This was a bit much, though. I had only been in the bathroom for a minute.
“Can’t a girl pee in peace?” I said loudly, my bladder leisurely emptying.
“HURRY UP!” she almost shouted. “You’re such a selfish pig! Don’t you realize you’re not the only female who pees in this office?”
Now I was mad. True there was only one bathroom for each gender but gosh she didn’t have to talk like that. I finished, pulled up and zipped my trousers and opened the door, blood boiling. Marie tried to dash in but I blocked the entrance with my body.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded. Marie just whimpered. Then I noticed how desperate she was. Marie was hopping from side to side, holding the crotch of her tight tan Capri’s with both hands. A wet spot had already begun to slowly spread. She pressed her pee hole frantically and danced, clearly losing it.
“Gosh,” I said. “I’m sorry.” And I let her through.
She was too ashamed to talk to me the rest of the day. The next morning at the desks of the office we shared, she apologized for speaking the way she did the day before. “I just needed to go sooo bad,” she explained. “You know how that is.”
“Actually I don’t.” I said matter of factly. “I have a large bladder capacity and haven’t been that desperate since I was a kid.”
“Oh I do too,” she said. “It’s just this diet I’m on. Works like a charm – no effort but you have to drink a lot of water.”
Remembering her twisting and turning, I doubted she could hold much. “How much?” I asked, curious. Any no effort diet sounded good.
“Two pints during the first hour and a half of work, two at lunch, one during the afternoon and one at dinner. I just buy cases of those one pint bottles and I’m set.”
“So that’s six pints a day,” I said, doing some quick calculations. “That’s not that much. I could do that. Maybe it would help me lose those 15 pounds.”
“I lost 25” she said, and looking at her I realized it was true.
“Wow, when can I get started?” It was only half an hour after work started and thus the perfect time to start. I didn’t need to lose any weight, but I wanted those 15 pounds off for bikini season– and, if it really was this easy, why not?
Marie handed me two bottles from under her desk. “These are one pint each,” she said. “You’ll need to pee at least once for every pint you drink so make sure you pee twice before lunch.”
I drank them over the next half hour and was surprised at how soon my bladder was bulging. I shifted around a little and pressed my thighs together for ten minutes after that before rushing to the bathroom. I figured there was no point in being uncomfortable even if I could hold it longer.
For the next week I followed the diet, drank the amount prescribed and peed whenever my bladder felt full. I lost four pounds in seven days without feeling deprived in the slightest, but I was peeing all the time. The next Monday, as I arrived at work, I decided the stretch my bladder a little – build some capacity. I was tired of spending all that time in the bathroom.
As expected, I soon felt the need to familiar need for relief after drinking my two morning pints. But instead of going right away as I usually did, I crossed my legs and held back. The distinct sensation of fullness wasn’t unpleasant and I knew a stretched bladder would be able to hold more. An hour later, I needed to go very badly but I still clenched my urethra with resolve. I had work to do. But soon, I was interrupted by my fast growing urge. My bladder began to contract and I knew I had to get to the bathroom soon or risk wetting myself.
I loosened my belt, got up from my desk and shuffled to the bathroom fighting not to grab my crotch with my hands. My urethra quivered, about to give out as I rushed into the thankfully unoccupied women’s bathroom, pulled up my skirt and peed hard into the toilet sighing with relief. It wasn’t a moment too soon.
My fatal mistake was forgetting the effect of drinking two pints of water. I had peed only about a pint and a quarter leaving three quarters of a pint of water still in my system. Add the two lunch pints…. and do the math.
So I downed the two bottles of water at lunch and wasn’t exactly surprised at the need to pee soon after. I didn’t intend on taxing my poor bladder much this time – especially since my urethra was weak from the morning. I was headed to the bathroom when I looked at my watch and stopped. Not much time had elapsed at all. No, I would wait just a little. I knew I could hold two pints for much, much longer than that.
My work distracted me somewhat from the mounting pressure in my bladder and soon the belt around my hips was pressing uncomfortably against it. I loosened it, hoping I could wait until the end of my important conference call. I ignored the twinges and pressed my thighs together, rubbing them against each other in intervals. When the call finally ended, my bladder suddenly contracted hard and fast. I gasped and grabbed onto my pee hole with one hand but it wasn’t enough to stop some pee from escaping and wetting my panties a little. The pee didn’t soak through my skirt, but my panties were hot and damp.
I panted, still holding myself in my chair. My bladder was thrashing and I was more desperate than I had ever been in my life. I just HAD to get to the bathroom and the wet feeling in my panties wasn’t helping matters. I stood up and immediately felt my bladder press down in response. That was something I wasn’t ready for. I clenched my urethra shut as hard as I could but still felt pee tickle me as it trickled down my inner thighs. I nearly cried in agony as I stopped the flow that so desperately needed to come out. I was disobeying my body and my bladder screamed its disapproval. But the fact that I, a 25–year–old grown woman, was slowly peeing herself wasn’t visible and that’s what counted.
Somehow, I got to the bathroom with only my panties and thighs wet. And although I was squirming and twisting and my bladder felt about to burst at any moment, I managed to hold on until I got to the door. Seeing the “Women’s Restroom” sign somehow made me need to pee even worse and I thought I would lose it right there as I pressed my thighs even more firmly together, one hand in my crotch and turned the doorknob with my free hand.
It was locked. Someone was already inside and I could hear the tinkling rush of pee flowing from behind the door. That did it. My pee forced itself out from between my trembling thighs, through my fingers and thoroughly soaked my skirt, then the floor. I watched helplessly as the pee formed a puddle beneath me. I was so, so humiliated but yet the intense relief felt fantastic.
As the last yellow droplets hit the floor, the bathroom door opened. Marie stepped out and spotted the obvious mishap and me. “Large bladder capacity, huh,” she said with a grin.
Note from editor: Author says this diet really WORKS! Must try!
By: Anna J.