Lunch Rush Desperation

“Is this order for here or to go?” Melanie asked the customer across the counter. “Uh, for here, uh, I’ll have a cheeseburger with bacon, large fries and a medium Sprite please,” the customer ordered. Melanie stared up at the clock of the local burger joint. 11 a.m. A chain fast food restaurant, on the verge of the daily lunch hour rushes. Melanie worked the morning mid–day to mid afternoon shift, 5 days a week, while saving for night classes at community college. Recently having graduated from high school, Melanie needed steady work and this was close to home. She’d come in around 10 o’clock, do some prep work in the kitchen, and then shift to the front register during lunch rush, staying there until she left at 5pm. It wasn’t a horrible job except for the usual rush of the lunch “hour,” which here was anywhere between 11:30 and 1pm. Then things got busy, really hectic, and really crowded. Melanie was due to go on lunch break any minute, trying to get 15 minutes in before the lunch crowd came in. She hated eating this early, because she just had breakfast right before she arrived, but it was now or much later, so she dealt with the schedule as best she could. Today she wasn’t hungry, but as it was pretty hot outside, she just ordered a salad and a large 32–ounce Coke for lunch, and when 11:10 rolled by, she found herself on break. “Here you go Mel, hurry up and eat, `cause it’s nice out and we’re going to have a busy day,” mentioned Linda, the day shift manager of the place. Melanie took her food and headed over to a corner booth in the far end of the restaurant. Fairly shy and soft–spoken, Melanie liked to blend in and not be noticed. As she sat down, she felt the tightness of her new black slacks against her butt. She really needed to lose just a few pounds, maybe 10 at the most, she thought, but who had the time to work out? Not a gorgeous girl by any means, but Melanie had a decent body, 5’ 4 with slightly stocky thighs and a bit of a butt, but not too much. The tight stretch fabric of the black pants she had just bought at Target hugged her body, and especially her butt, tightly. She could tell a few of the customers would sneak a glance at her butt when she turned around and she blushed at the thought. Her reddish fine hair glistened in the morning sunlight coming in through the window and her light freckled skin had a healthy glow. As she downed her drink quickly and poked at her salad, she wondered why the guys would stare at her. She wasn’t ugly, she thought, maybe “cute,” but she thought she was kind of homely looking, a nice but unexceptional face. At least she had nice boobs, she thought, and then the time for self–analysis was over and she had to head back to work as the cars started coming into the parking lot. A quick trip to the ladies room was in order. Melanie hadn’t been able to get to the bathroom since this morning when she woke up, and the bottled water she sipped all day along with her orange juice for breakfast and the coke she just drank contributed to fullness in her bladder. She didn’t have to use the bathroom badly yet, but she wasn’t that far away from a real need to, either. She walked down to the lobby where the bathrooms were, tried the ladies room but found it locked. She looked at her watch. 11:25, time to get going. Glancing wishfully at the ladies room door, she knew she’d just have to try again after the lunch rush, no big deal. Melanie walked across the dining room back to the counter, washed her hands at the sink and took over back at the register, taking orders. She again noticed one of the customers glancing at her ass, and she thought to herself that maybe she wasn’t such an ugly duckling. Certainly she hadn’t had a boyfriend since junior year, it was very hard for her to meet anyone being so shy and so quiet. “Shit”, Linda muttered under her breath next to Melanie. “It looks like Aaron called in sick again, so you’re going to be the only one up front today”. Melanie just nodded, knowing that being the only person on register during lunch was a pain, but like everything else in her life, she quietly accepted it and shyly went back to the register to wait on the next person. Great, lunch rush was starting, and this lady wanted 8 separate orders for her department at work, all with separate bills. The other customers in line were starting to line up, maybe 7 or 8 deep at the counter, and it wasn’t even 11:45 yet. This was going to be a long one, Melanie thought, as she started reciting the orders back to the woman. The green computer screen showing the orders was filling up, and Melanie tried her best to assemble the dining room orders and take orders as best as she could. Hectic as it was, she had a routine and managed to stay in control of the rush, even taking time to grab a quick sip of soda behind the kitchen wall when she went to find a box of mustard packets. 12:00 noon, and more customers piled in. The lobby was full, the dining room almost full, and the drive–through was backed up about 8 cars. Melanie was rushing around now, and while getting the last order, started to realize the uncomfortable sensation of a rapidly filling bladder as she worked. “Great”, she thought silently, “here I am, at the start of rush hour and I have to pee, and we’re short handed today and I won’t be able to get to the bathroom until 1pm at least”. Silently, she just tried to put the discomfort aside in her head and concentrate on her job. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to go kind of badly during the rush, but she always managed to get to the bathroom well before it got to an emergency, and she didn’t think of it. What she didn’t realize this day was that usually she had already gone to the bathroom once, and today she hadn’t since she woke up. The 32 ounces of Coke, the sipping of her drink, the water she drank that morning, and the orange juice she had for breakfast were all soon going to be making this cute and very shy teenager have a very difficult afternoon. “Hi, I have five orders to go,” started the next customer. Melanie looked out at the line in despair, it was now out to the front door and here was this lady ordering for her office. The lady rambled on with her order. “Okay, that’s a chicken sandwich, no lettuce, two burgers, a chicken Caesar salad and a bacon cheeseburger, right?” Melanie asked. “NO, I said these were separate orders Miss”. Great, Melanie thought, as she voided the transaction and rang up the orders again. The other customers were getting restless. Melanie felt the pressure of her bladder as it slowly filled and she crossed her left leg over her right as she stood behind the register. Her tight black pants were uncomfortable so snug against her tummy pressing against her straining bladder. It was 12:30 now, and Melanie really had to pee, but she knew she’d be stuck on the register for an hour at least before the crowd would dwindle down to where she’d get a break. Biting her lip, she tried to concentrate on the orders. Running into the kitchen, she finally got the office workers’ orders right and went onto the next customer. “Hi, will this be for here or to go?” Melanie asks, suddenly feeling a slight throbbing sensation in her bladder, as it sent warning signals of its impending distress. Melanie clenched her legs together behind the counter, and now was very aware of the pressure within her and the slight stinging sensation that a full bladder brought. If only she had been able to use the bathroom earlier, she thought mindlessly while filling the customers order. Oh, how nice it would be to just be able to dash off to the rest room, pull down her pants and underwear and release the pee, which was starting to make its presence known every minute. More people. Lunch rush was in full swing. “Miss, MISS, I ordered a hamburger, not a cheeseburger!” yelled the prissy yuppie office girl from across the counter. “Just a minute Ma’am, I’ll take care of it,” Melanie said, walking over to the kitchen window, suddenly wincing in pain as her bladder throbbed. Her body signaled a severe bathroom distress signal. As she got the woman’s order corrected, she feels a bead of sweat roll down her brow. She really has to use the bathroom, but there is no way she’ll get the chance. Pressure builds. A simple order is next –just a chicken sandwich and fries, no drink. “That will be 5.29 sir,” Melanie repeats like a robot. As the customer hands her a ten, she feels her bladder throb again. She taps her feet for a few seconds and then squeezes her legs together. A slow burning sensation occupies Melanie’s mind as her bladder stretches and desperately seeks relief. More customers. Ten minutes to one, now, she thinks, and there are customers still lined up to the door. She gasps violently as her bladder suddenly shrieks in pain, sending a sharp wave of pain through her tortured body. She hasn’t had to go this bad since she wet her pants in that horribly embarrassing physics test last year in school, and she’s now really concerned. She remembers that awkward moment when she lost control and wet herself in her jeans right in front of all her classmates last year, and how her Mom had to come pick her up soaking wet, and the teasing she got for weeks in school. “No, Sir, we don’t have blue cheese dressing, only ranch.” Her bladder again pulsed violently. Mel crossed her legs, uncrossed them, and pressed her thighs together, valiantly trying to relieve the burning sensation of her bladder. She had to pee, very badly, and right away. As she turned towards the kitchen, half bent over in pain, she whispered to Linda, her manager. “Hey, can you take, uh, take over for me a sec, I gotta use the bathroom, like really bad”. “Come On, Mel”, Linda replied, “we’re stacked up at the drive through and you’re backed up in the lobby. Hold it and as soon as we get these cars caught up I’ll give you a break, but we’re too busy now”. “But I really gotta go, it’s kinda like an emergency, I really gotta pee!” Melanie begged; getting desperate with each passing breath, horrified that she was about to lose control and wet herself right there. “Mel, okay, gimme 10 minutes, and you can go on break, but try to hold it, okay girl?” “Alright,” Melanie whispered back in defeat, now fully aware of the incredibly immense pressure of her bladder. She shyly returned to the counter, her bladder stinging and screaming for relief with every step. “Can I, I mean, is this order for here ortago?” Melanie rambled quickly, garbling her words as she felt her bladder send a severe cramping sharp pain through her abdomen, as her pee seemed to rush to the edge of her urethra desperately seeking an escape. She violently clenched her muscles together and fought off her body’s severe urge to void her swollen bladder. “What did you ask, Miss?” the office worker replied, unable to understand Melanie’s garbled, shy speech. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Melanie replied, turning red, now in severe agony from her distressed throbbing bladder. “Will this order be for here or to go?” “Oh, yea, to go. I’ve got 4 separate orders, each separate checks please.” Melanie frowned, her desperation unrelenting, her body trembling as her bladder sent wave after wave of contractions through her body, her pee desperately seeking an escape any way possible. She clenched her crotch tight, thighs pressed together hard. More beads of sweat appeared on her freckled young forehead. She could feel the dampness of sweat against her panty elastic as she became quite nervous in her desperate efforts to contain herself. “Okay, give me the first order,” Melanie replied, trembling as she spoke. She couldn’t stay still. Every time she tried to keep her legs still, she felt a huge pressure overcome her and it felt like her pee would escape her clenched crotch lips at any second. She tried to make her discomfort hidden, and paced slightly back and forth as the customer rattled off her 4 complicated orders. Poor Melanie had to pee. Her bladder was constantly screaming, her body trembling, her body temperature rising like a fever out of nervousness. She tried not to think about this same feeling that happened last year in school, but she remembered all too well the sudden loss of control as she let go into her jeans without warning, and knew if she didn’t find a bathroom immediately, she’d be wetting her pants all over again. She completed the lady’s order, her mind not able to concentrate, on the very edge of losing bladder control. She looked over at Linda, but she was still over at the drive through window, cars piled up. “Linda, I gotta go really bad, please can I go to the bathroom now? I gotta go please!” cried Melanie, half in tears. “Hang on girl, just a few more cars, and you can go on break. Hold it in,” Linda replied, not even looking over at poor Melanie, partially bent over, hands forced between her thighs pressing up and against her throbbing body. Melanie gasped, and turned towards the register, where the previous customer was checking her order. “Miss, this isn’t right. I wanted the chicken salad with the seasoned fries, not with the waffle fries, and you gave me a Sprite instead of a Diet Coke with the cheeseburger without lettuce.” Melanie shivered in fright. She knew that her lack of concentration because of her sheer desperation had caused her to mess up the order, something she usually didn’t do. She started to correct it, taking the ladies’ bags back to the counter underneath the pass through window, sorting out the orders on the receipts. Her bladder throbbed, this time in massive violent spasms, and her body clenched in response; trying desperately to contain the massive pressure building up. Her pent up pee rushed to the very edge of the lips of her crotch, desperate to escape. Melanie tried to control the pressure, but her body violently throbbed again, a spasm of pressure sweeping through her body. The burning sensation was unbearable, and Melanie’s tortured distended bladder released a quick jet of hot pee that suddenly streamed out of her urethra. The rapid warmth of the hot pee rapidly dampening Melanie’s underwear and the warm wetness expanding along her right upper thigh shocked her. Melanie gasped in fright, trying with all her might to clasp her lips and muscles together to stop another spurt from coming out. This second release caught her by surprise, and lasted almost a full second. She felt the dampness of her underwear and the warmth of her inner thigh, and knew she’d have to run to the bathroom no matter what as soon as she finished this customer’s order, or it would be all over. She hoped nobody would look at her legs, maybe the black pants would hide her wet spot, she hoped. Trying to concentrate on the order, Melanie looked down at her crotch, and embarrassedly noticed the four–inch wet spot slightly visible as a darker shade against the black of her pants. Worse yet was the larger six–inch wet mark along the inner right thigh that had spread slightly to the front of her leg. The momentary release didn’t make it easier. The pain and pressure increased. Her body trembled again as she tried to contain herself. When she turned, the light from outside glistened off the pee wetness, a sure sign people would notice she’d had an accident. She’d have to pretend that she spilled a coke or something, maybe then nobody would notice her accident. She handed the first bag back to the customer, trying shyly to walk quickly to the edge of the counter so the customer wouldn’t notice the wet marks on her right leg. She went back to the counter, and was waiting for the cook to correct another part of the order. Her legs weren’t pressed together, and suddenly another violent wave of pressure overcame her. She managed to clench every muscle in her body and held off the impending flow, and the burning sensation in her crotch rapidly increased to a sharp intense stinging pain. Another wave of pressure came, and even through her agonized intense efforts to control the flow, her body could not control the urge, and she again felt a slower more controlled stream of pee slip past her clenched muscles. She quickly tried to stop the flow, but this time she peed for a second and a half, feeling in horror more warmth as her pee flooded her panties and more of her thighs, this time also starting to spread down her left thigh. Another wave of pressure swept past. She finally got the orders corrected and turned to the customer, dark pee marks now totally visible on her frontal crotch and a large dark mark on her right thigh, and a smaller mark around her left inner thigh. She looked at the next customer in horror as she felt a slight trickle of pee run down the inside of both legs. She tried to hold on. Her dampening underwear clung to her body. “Linda, please!!” Melanie cried over, but Linda ignored her. “Miss, I’ve been waiting for 10 minutes and I’ve got to get back to work. I’m late.” 1:30pm, and Melanie hurriedly tried to take the customers order, all the time trying not to wet her pants any more. The pain increased. Melanie’s breaths were gasps of violent desperate pain. It hurt so badly, she just had to pee, and she knew she couldn’t hold on. Just get this order out, and she was going to run to the bathroom, even if she got fired. “Oh my God, I’ve gotta pee,” she mumbled to herself. Her body throbbed again. More clenching. “Will there be any fri–fries with that?” Melanie mumbled desperately as she finished the customers order. She was breathing rapidly, short quick breaths, trying to hold it all in. Tears formed in her eyes at the immense pain and anguish of the situation. Another quick jet of pee escaped her clenched body, warmth spreading through her pants. Melanie gasped, trying to hold on a few more seconds. She turned towards the kitchen again, and suddenly her throbbing tortured body exploded in pain, wave after wave of stinging burning pain shooting through her body. Her weakened bladder responded to the contractions by sending a violent four–second thrashing high–pressure jet of screaming hot pee rapidly out of her tortured urethra. The flooding pee forced through her underwear and pants and the streaming pee rushed visibly down her clenched legs, the shining daylight reflecting off the streams of moisture that cascaded out of her clenched legs and flooded down her thighs. Her right thigh was now shiny on the inner thigh and along the frontal thigh to her knee. She trembled, tears coming quickly to her eyes. She started to cry as she filled the customer’s order. She rapidly gave it to the customer, who suddenly noticed that this young fast food worker was having an accident right in front of his eyes. “OH MY God dear, do you have to go to the bathroom or something?” the customer replied in horror. “Uh, yea, I’m sorry, I really had to pee–I’msorry…I’m wettingmypants–I’m sorry! OhGod, ohGod,” Melanie mumbled in a frightened whisper, tears streaming down her face. Her trembling body relentlessly demanded relief, and another explosion of hot pee burst from her clenched lips. Her unclenched legs suddenly flooded with hot pee. Her underwear flooded with warm wetness and clung to her desperate body. Her bladder again contracted, then released, and she uncontrollably sent stream after stream of 6–second bursts of hot pee into her underwear, each time causing Melanie to gasp violently in shock. Her sopping wet underwear was now complete soaked from her crotch up to her panty line. Her tight pants were visibly soaking wet. The pee soaked and crashed through the tight fabric, again cascading down both legs like a river over rocks. Pee started running down onto the floor in a small stream, and both inner thighs were soaked and visibly damp to the ankles. She looked over at Linda and screamed for mercy, and suddenly another uncontrollable wave took her by surprise. She couldn’t control it, and she again went uncontrollably in her pants, this time peeing uncontrollably and full force with no resistance as her bladder emptied itself in a long 40–second sizzling jet of pee. The force of her pee was audible as a strong sizzling sound was heard even over the restaurant din. Her bladder could take it no longer and violently rebelled from its stricture. Melanie was wetting herself as a teenager for the second time in two years, and everybody knew it. She stood there, trembling, a large puddle forming on the floor as the shimmering stream of hot pee ran down her legs and also directly straight down from her soaked crotch. “Melanie, Oh my God, dear! Oh my GOD!” Linda shouted in shock when she turned around only to see her daytime teenage employee standing there, embarrassed and frozen, pee running down her legs and a huge puddle of wetness on the restaurant floor. Melanie cried an apology to the customers, and ran through the dining room to the bathroom, fully obvious even in her black pants to all that she had just had a major accident. Some customers didn’t notice. A few gawked at her soaking legs and her droplets of pee she trailed from her dripping pants and her wet shoes. Kathy, one of the cooks, was sent to mop the puddle up. Melanie ran to the ladies room, only to find it in use, and stood there in horror until the girl inside came out and gasped in shock when she realized that this employee stood in front of her with soaking wet pants. Melanie, still crying, ran inside, locked the door, and started bawling out of control. Horribly embarrassed, she didn’t know what she was going to do. She had come to work in her work clothes, and now they were soaking wet. She pulled her pants down, thinking maybe she could dry off her underwear or something, and suddenly stood there in fright as another wave of pressure came over her body. Too embarrassed and frightened to even sit on the toilet, Melanie uncontrollably started peeing right there, pee flooding through her light lavender cotton underwear and flowing down straight into her pants bunched around her ankles. She leaned back against the restroom wall and didn’t fight the impulse. She just stood there, crying, while she released the remainder of her swollen bladder into her soaked clinging wet panties and made a huge puddle all over the bathroom floor. Her pants, bunched up near her shoes, were completely soaked in her warm pee, not a dry spot to be found. Her shoes and socks now totally soaked with pee, she now knew she had created a disaster, and prayed nobody would notice her when she exited the restroom and ran to her car. A few customers did, giggling at the sight of this cute teenager with soaked legs running in embarrassment out the door. Melanie hopped into her car, her soaking wet pants dampening the fabric of her car seat and drove home, crying most of the way and even wetting herself a second time when the after–effects of her bladder torture demanded a second release. Her car seat soaking wet, was bad enough and then things got even worse when Melanie arrived home only to face her mother, who was in shock to find her daughter once again wetting her pants at a stage in her life when she should have complete bladder control. That night, Melanie cried herself to sleep out of embarrassment and further angered her mom by wetting the bed uncontrollably during her sleep, something she hadn’t done in years. Needless to say, Mel was more careful the next time she worked lunch.
Gillian