The Tricky Game

As I mentioned previously, my original story was based on true events but not quite. What is true is that I am twenty and The Diet really has taken off at my office causing some pretty interesting events – well it’s of interest to me anyway. While I am heterosexual something about seeing someone (regardless of gender) desperate to pee makes me crazy.
Anyway, at the office there is this girl Hannah who is very pretty but not exactly a rocket scientist and is kind of full of herself. The truth is that I doubt we’d talk if we didn’t go to the same gym. She came over to me the other week and casually asked me if I thought The Diet made me better at holding it. I replied that yeah, of course it did since it makes you used to handling large quantities of liquid.
She seemed doubtful and one of my evil schemes began to sprout. “So you really think you could hold more liquid longer than me?” I asked her.
“Probably,” she said. “Although I don’t test myself all that often since I am not on that ridiculous diet. I don’t see why you drown yourself anyway. Your body is fine.”
That wasn’t the point, of course. The desperation was fun. But try explaining that to someone who doesn’t understand.
“Okay,” I said, shrugging. “Let’s meet on Saturday and we’ll see. I’ll pick you up at 1PM. Pee before you get into the car.”
She agreed and we parted ways but not before we made a $100 bet just to make it fun.
Later that week on Saturday, I picked her up. We both had empty bladders as agreed.
The thing is that I had the definite advantage. You see I knew she wasn’t aware that you should stop drinking several hours before one of these sorts of things since liquid can take a while to travel to the bladder and you don’t want drinks from before to affect you later on. Not to mention, I have more experience with holding. And I wasn’t planning on playing fair.
Hannah looked very nice as she got into my car. She wore a long black coat with a sweater and black trousers underneath. Her soft dark curls were loose and her makeup carefully applied. I don’t care to dress up on weekends and was in my usual jeans.
“So do we just drink and stay in the car?” she wanted to know.
“That would be boring. Besides I don’t have drinks.” I said. “Let’s go places.”
We stopped at a coffee shop and each had 20 ounce cups of sweetened iced tea. The two of us kind of eyed each other as we downed the drinks, showed each other the empty bottoms and confidently tossed the cups in the trash.
Hannah followed me back to the car without saying a word. I knew she was sure she would win. After all she is several inches taller than me and has a larger build. I had to hide my smirk.
I drove us to a very busy mall with lots of stores and plenty of noise. Somehow I managed to find a place to park my little black car and we made our way over to stand. I ordered two 32–ounce diet cokes – but mine had ice. She couldn’t hear me tell the guy to make hers with no ice over the ruckus. I could feel my bladder filling from the previous iced tea as I drank and hoped she did too.
She turned her cup over, with the top and straw still on and declared “Empty!” as she threw it away but I knew she was not referring to her bladder. I turned mine over as well and she looked closely to make sure I had finished my drink. But of course I had drunk less than her because of the ice.
We walked around for half an hour and I started to feel some strain. Hannah was becoming less chatty as well. We repeated the 32oz coke routine and once again I cheated with the ice. Thank god for noisy kids. Even so, though, I was beginning to feel very full. By the time I finished the third large drink I was squeezing my muscles in intervals and trying to walk around a lot. To my delight, Hannah was obviously trying hard not too look worried.
“How are you doing?” I asked her.
“Fine.” she said and then realized her answer was too terse to be true. “Okay it’s getting to me a little but I can hold it.”
“Same here,” I said. We walked around the mall each looking at clothes and jewellery and pretend we were each not concentrating on holding back the floods between our legs.
As the time passed my bladder was quickly getting to its limit. The pressure was intense and it was little consolation that I had drunk less and was thus less desperate than Hannah. My thighs were pressed together to try and relieve the direct pressure on my pee hole. Despite myself, I kept visualizing my bladder as a small balloon filling, filling into a large ball, the pressure mounting…
“Want to get more soda?” I joked.
“God no,” Hannah nearly moaned. She was trying not to look desperate but her squirming was constant. I could tell she was dying to jam her hands into her crotch but she couldn’t – not without looking ridiculous. I had made sure she left her coat in the car and she didn’t want to look like a schoolgirl about to pee her panties. Her attempts to keep from peeing were turning into a pee dance and I was delighted despite being pretty desperate myself.
I started hoping she would wet herself soon because I was not doing too well myself.
She realized she was on the verge of losing it when we were in a large bookstore. She dashed for the restroom but as she pushed the door open a salesgirl appeared saying it was for employees only.
“But I REALLY need to go!” Hannah howled. She dropped the pretences and held onto her crotch for dear life hopping from foot to foot. I was enjoying this sight immensely but also dreaming of the toilet beyond the stern salesgirl.
“Sorry those are the rules,” the mean salesgirl repeated.
Hannah burst into tears and let go. Pee started gushing through her trousers and onto the floor. She looked at the floor as pee burst forth and ran down her legs in rivulets. I wanted to watch but I was getting close to wetting myself as well. I pushed the salesgirl aside and peed in the toilet not caring about the stupid rules.
I admit I still get off thinking about the incident sometimes. The most fun I ever had earning $100 – that’s for sure.
By: Anna J.