Audition Agony

Saturday, 6am: Danielle paced nude through her hotel room, coffee in hand, the sunlight streaming through the windows, making geometric patterns along the carpet. She looked at her watch. Another hour, and she had to be down the block at the old loft. Thankfully it was a nice day outside, and the walk would be short. Danielle stared at her suitcase. Picked a pair of black tights, a very short plaid miniskirt and a black long sleeve top. She skipped the bra; 34A wasn’t going to get anyone’s attention, and she hated the things anyway. Plus, she thought, she liked the feeling of the supple fabric of her top against her bare breasts. Underwear, she thought, what to wear. Ah, a tight fitting pair of panties, a snug fitting mix of cotton and Lycra, black. She loved the feeling of the fabric as it clung against her 28 year old body, the fabric tingling against her womanhood as she pulled them up. Then the tights, the top, and then the skirt, fitting tightly against her tall, slender 5’ 10” frame. A pair of black sandals would do; the walk to the loft was short. She combed her long, almost waist length black hair straight, with the sun shining on her locks as she stood in the mirror. Danielle was certainly attractive, with a near olive complexion and the legs that showed the work of many years of ballet, jazz and theater dancing. She patted a wrinkle out of her skirt, grabbed her laptop, her notepad, and stuffed them into a day bag as she headed downstairs to the lobby for the “free continental breakfast” they served. By 7am she was at the loft, in the empty rehearsal room, ready for a long day.
Saturday, 6am: Jenny woke up early, yawned, stretched, looked quizzically at her pet cat that Mom had given her for her birthday, then stumbled out of bed in her underwear and T–shirt and headed for the bathroom. Jenny was a perpetual water drinker, and her bladder was swollen after a full night of sleep. She urinated into the toilet for nearly 2 minutes, feeling the relief as she emptied her straining bladder. Today was the day she had been waiting for, and she needed to take a shower before she went out for her morning run. The shower went quickly; Jenny found an old pair of blue nylon running shorts, an old black tank top, hurried into a pair of white panties and put on her Nike running shoes and grabbed a bottle of water, downed it, and tiptoed down past her sleeping parents and headed out the kitchen door and began her morning 4 mile jog through the neighborhood. As she ran, she mentally went through the day. She had to be at the audition between 8 and 11am, and she rehearsed the song she was going to sing in her mind again, debating about a particular vocal inflection she was thinking of adding to the chorus. As the miles streaked by her excitement grew; she was sure she had at least a shot of making it on the newly announced national talent show. The thought of competing on television excited her; she thought how her whole life was geared for this moment– a chance to become famous. Being popular wasn’t enough for Jenny, even though she was the cheerleading captain and had starred in some community and school plays she wanted more. She wanted the spotlight, and she knew it. Surely the torture of running every morning and taking Yoga and going to the gym along with the vocal and acting classes during the week would pay off. They had to. She was destined. The sun was warming up the streets as she finished her run, and she headed back to her house, slowing down to a walk to cool down. “Wouldn’t it be cool?” she thought silently, walking, “to win on national TV before heading off towards college?” Or maybe get a recording contract and skip college altogether, yea, that would do it. Yes, today was going to be the day.
Saturday, 7:15: Danielle looked at the clock overhead. She placed her laptop and notepad on the folding table at the back of the rehearsal hall, pulled up the uncomfortable folding chair and sat down, her long legs relaxing straight out in front of her. A few of the techs caught a glimpse of her long legs and noticed how short her plaid miniskirt was. The other 3 judges weren’t much to look at, they thought, but this one was something else. Danielle caught one of the sound technicians eyeing her and laughed inside. “If he only knew,” she thought, laughing as she thought of the long day ahead. 4 judges were on hand to weed out the possibilities from the has–beens in this city for the television show. Her dance and vocal background, more specifically in this case, the years spent on the London and Broadway stage as an entertainer were her reason for this gig. One of the other judges was a small time record producer, the other a vocal coach she’d heard about in some magazine somewhere, and the other one was a talent scout for a network affiliate. Each city, the same thing happened. She’d meet the other judges; most of them didn’t travel as much as she did, and they’d discuss the specific points for the day, what they’d look for, and go by the guideline sheet mandated by the network producers. Danielle noticed a slight fullness in her bladder; the 2 bottles of water she drank already this morning had made her reasonably desperate for a restroom break, and she needed to pee. She got up and headed out the door to try and find where the restroom was in this building, and noted sarcastically how many girls and boys already filled the narrow hallways, practicing their songs, nervous, pacing. Where was the damned bathroom, she thought. Standing up made it worse, and she really wanted to go before she sat down for the long morning of judging. She unconsciously tightened her thighs together but relaxed as she finally found the sole bathroom, one unisex single stall room at the end of the far hall. Luckily, it was empty. She opened the door, pulled down her skirt and her tights, shrugged down her underwear and let her bladder release into the toilet. A long sizzling stream of pee echoed noisily in the tiled small bathroom. “This building sucks,” she thought, thinking how crowded the one bathroom situation, unisex even, was going to become with all the people they were going to see that day. There was another bathroom downstairs, but nobody had told anybody about it. Good thing she could hold her pee when needed, this might be a long day without a break. She returned from the restroom, noting how many more people had filled the hallways in the 10 minutes since she left the rehearsal room, and she noted, as usual, how many cute younger women were present. The high school seniors and college freshman were the best, she thought, and usually they did the best job in the audition too. The younger ones were too cocky or too nervous, and the others usually were past their prime. And of course, the girls liked to dress sexy for the judges, who were, with the exception of Danielle, usually male. Danielle closed the door behind her and took her place back behind the folding table. A black drape had been placed along the front of the table; thankfully, she thought, now she could sit without having to worry about someone looking up her short skirt as she sat all day on the miserable folding chair. She sighed, grabbed a bottle of water from the table next to them and sipped it silently as they waited. It would be soon be time to open the doors and start the audition process and see who was who.
Saturday, 7:30am: Jenny walked excitedly back up the stairs, hurrying to her room and then, quickly to the bathroom. Whether it was the excitement of the day or the water she had already drunk, Jenny had to pee, and badly. She hated to admit that sometimes, when she extended her run, she would end up nearly having an accident in her running shorts. Once she did; having ran an extra 5 miles a while back, she came back so desperate only to find her younger sister in the bathroom and Jenny stood there, banging on the bathroom door telling her sister it was an emergency, and that she couldn’t hold it and suddenly she peed in her running shorts right there, her pee soaking down her legs as she cried in embarrassment, a puddle on the hallway floor that her Mom made her clean up. Jenny hated that, a popular attractive girl like her simply didn’t wet her pants, and that was that, and the teasing her sister gave her was miserable. Jenny got into the bathroom, relentlessly peed into the toilet, her clear pee stream sizzling out of her body, and then she stepped into the shower. Finished, she stepped out, looked into the mirror. Her workout routine and strict attention to a healthy diet had paid off. In the prime of her life, she stood 5’6, an even 100 lbs, and while her boobs weren’t that big, a smallish 34B, she had killer legs, abs to die for and a tight butt that got the attention of many guys, all too stupid and unbecoming for her to bother with. While she wanted to date, she hated the younger immature guys, and dreamed of meeting a young record producer or a college aged stud. Make that the young rich record producer, she often thought. Besides, her career was important. She wanted to be famous. Men would come later. She styled her shoulder length brown hair, freshly styled and highlighted the other day at a trendy and expensive, salon in town. She headed, naked, a towel wrapped around her, to her room and looked on the bed where she had placed her outfit for the special day. She sprayed a quick burst of body scent on her bare skin. Then it was time. Her pride and joy was a pair of custom made blue jeans made by a friend of hers last year in school. Annaliese had come over as an exchange student from Italy, was a clothing designer, and already had made some custom pieces that a few young Italian models bought for their own personal use. Jenny missed Annaliese; she had a sense of style, Jenny thought. When she went back home to Italy she was hired by a prestigious European design firm before she even graduated high school. The jeans were special. A light faded blue, cut from the finest denim fabric, they were very thin, somewhat soft for denim, and fairly clingy. They fit Jenny perfectly. Jenny had spent the past 3 years as a workout addict, and when Annaliese measured her, Jenny vowed never to lose site of the fact these jeans were made for her, and for her only. And Jenny had to work quite a bit that year to afford them too. $250 for a pair of custom made, custom fit jeans was hard on for her budget. Jenny had not even worn them once, afraid to spill something on them, so they had sat in her closet for nearly a year, for this one moment. Jenny picked a pair of light blue panties, a very thin cotton/lycra blend that hugged her body and had only a minimum panty line. Those were bought recently and never worn, and she tingled as she pulled them on. They fit tightly and snuggly around her body, and the cool fabric tingled her mound of her private parts as she pulled them against her. She felt sexy already. The moment of truth came next as she put on the jeans. They fit perfectly. Ridiculously low rise, she realized how little room she had if her underwear were to ride up. The rough–cut edges of the top cut were far down and it showed off her abs brilliantly. The seat fit just right against her butt, and the thin, slightly soft fabric felt like a dream against her taut, toned legs. The top she had chosen was an expensive blue blouse, a camisole, high cut enough to show her abs. Jenny decided skipping a bra would be best, and her nipples immediately perked up as the smooth shiny fabric glided over her bare skin. She looked in the mirror and smiled; her abs showed brilliantly, her nipples poked through enough to make her look sexy, and her jeans would cause any guy to drool, she thought. The tooth–whitening regimen she had followed for a week along with some expensive dental work gave her a killer smile. Her hair had dried and shone gorgeously in the morning light. She put on her white anklets and a pair of expensive, new, Nike cross–trainers that matched the colors of her outfit, and went over to the music stand. Grabbing a bottle of water from her personal college–ready refrigerator (a great gift idea from Dad) she downed it, realizing how absolutely important it would be today to stay hydrated so her vocal cords would be in prime shape. She warmed up. Only a little while before she’d have to leave for the audition– it was in some loft downtown.
Saturday, 8:30 am: The girls were in the morning and mid–day hours, and the afternoon and evening hours were for the boys. By now the narrow halls of the downtown loft were crammed. Every girl had a number attached to the right side of their hip, a small white vinyl marker, small enough not to impede the various outfits they would wear, but large enough, like an index card, for the judges to see. Already Danielle and the rest of the judges had been through 6 girls. The current one was a pretty good alto, Danielle thought. Cute too. Young, her information card said 15, but very attractive, blond and with a nice body. Too bad she was so young, Danielle thought as the girl hit a high note slightly off pitch. Danielle loved this part of the job; a closet lesbian, she was very shy and found that performing had been her release, her escape from shyness. She never really fit into society well when she had retired due to a knee injury, and wasn’t involved in any relationship. At night she’d fantasize about some of the women she saw during the day, wondering how she could meet them. The girl finished her song with a fast flurry of well–controlled notes with a hint of vibrato. This girl was something for sure– to have that much talent and vocal control at such an age was amazing. Danielle marked down “definite” on her card, as did 3 of the other judges. Danielle grabbed another bottle of water from the table, her second since she started, and mindlessly sipped while the next girl came front from the pack. The girls were grouped by 10 and lined up, and then walked into the room together, and auditioned in front of the others, and the judges, in numerical order according to their index tag. The next girl couldn’t sing at all. She lasted 2 minutes. That’s how it usually went, she thought; you get a good one, then you get one you’d like to forget you ever heard. The morning went on. The hallways were crowded. The one bathroom was constantly busy. More than one girl stood in the hallways nervous about their desperation level and annoyed with the single obvious restroom on the floor. Fidgeting was common as many girls waited their turn to relieve their water–swollen bladders.
Saturday, 9:00am: Jenny finished her vocal exercises and brought down her CD, a cassette copy of the CD, and even a spare CD she had burned this afternoon of her chosen songs, one ballad, and one up–tempo. She spent a little time putting the finishing touches on her makeup, grabbed her headshot and resume (stapled together); she had spares of those, and then she grabbed another bottle of water and downed it. She headed off downstairs, passing through the kitchen, and pronounced herself ready to go for her big day. Mom was going to drive her to the audition that morning; her mother had been a vocal teacher and provided her daughter with her preliminary instruction until later when she realized her daughter had something special, and then had sent her off to a very expensive vocal coach for extensive training. As they drove downtown they stopped by another house to pick up Carla, Jenny’s best friend in school. Carla smiled and congratulated Jenny on the killer outfit she was wearing. Carla wasn’t auditioning; she was a gymnast and cheerleader, not a singer, but she was coming along for support. Along the 25–minute drive Jenny started another bottle of water, her second since she had last used the bathroom, and her Mom gave her some performance tips as last minute advice. Jenny sat there in the car, her special outfit gleaming, excited as this was surely going to be her lucky day and she’d get the break she needed to get a record contract or at least be on the show. Near the end of the drive, Jenny noticed her bladder filling, no doubt from the constant water drinking she’d done that morning, and she thought about finding a bathroom sometime. She wasn’t desperate yet, but her fullness was definitely growing as her body trickled the water into her bladder. Another 5 or 6 minutes, and they’d arrive at the loft. Jenny grew excited at the day, her heart beating faster, and she forgot about the minor discomfort of her bladder for the meantime.
Saturday, 9:30am: Danielle fidgets in her chair as she realizes that she has judged the past 4 girls with absolutely no talent. And the last one was overweight too, what chance did she have of going on national TV? None, she thought. Jenny arrived at the loft after her mother scrambled to find a parking place. They walked into the loft together, with Jenny taken back by the massive number of girls standing in the hallways, all clutching their music and CDs, waiting their turn. A few looked over at Jenny and then did a double take and looked at her again; while quite a few of the girls there were certainly extremely attractive, Jenny stood out. Her long brown hair, her makeup, her eyes, and the best fitting pair of jeans got jealous looks from many of the other girls, quite a few who had traveled from other cities to take place in this audition. Jenny made her way past at least 20 girls to the lone desk where a harried older woman passing out index tags and filling out forms. Jenny was given a number, and told to wait. They told her it might be an hour or more before she’d be called, and that they’d call her by numerical group and not to wander out of the hallways. If she missed her group, she wouldn’t audition. Jenny was sure she wouldn’t leave, and went down the hallway to where her mother and Carla were, and told them the news. “An hour or so? I wouldn’t be surprised if that was two hours, given these crowds,” her Mom said. “Yikes, I can hardly stand the excitement. Can you, like, believe how many people are here? And they’re, like, all totally gorgeous too!” Jenny replied, looking around the crowded hallway in awe. “Don’t worry, Jenny”, Carla replied, “You look awesome. I am SO totally jealous of your jeans– they are great!! Just relax and practice or something,” she continued. The hallway was crowded, but they didn’t want to move too far away from the lady who called out the groups. They saw the next group of 10 girls enter the rehearsal room and the last group exit. A few girls looked very nervous and they headed quickly down the hall for some reason, down to the far end. Jenny pulled another bottle of water out and started sipping; the air inside was dry and itchy, and she wanted to keep her throat moist. She thought about going to find the bathroom; by now she had to pee, plain and simple. Not an emergency, but a good old fashioned “I have to pee.” But she tightened her legs and looked around, and decided it could wait. Maybe the crowd would thin out later and she wasn’t in any trouble right now, but she realized she’d be a lot more comfortable if she emptied her bladder before she had to sing.
In the rehearsal room, a tall leggy redhead in a black miniskirt was awkwardly pacing and clutching herself after she sang, and once told she was finished, dashed out the door and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom. She had a great voice, Danielle thought, and marked her down as “definite” on her list, and noted her name. Gretchen, somebody from Germany, she thought. Quite striking, long legs, a very sexy little skirt, and Danielle wondered what was under that skirt. She sure looked nervous for some reason, touching herself funny, like she had to pee badly or something, Danielle thought. But she was talented, and after a string of losers, she was happy to mark her name down on the list.
Gretchen could care less at that point about her grade; she was at the very edge of losing control and was rushing to the bathroom to prevent a massive accident. She never made it. When she got to the bathroom and saw the line of 14 girls waiting, she shrieked in dismay and started peeing uncontrollably down her long freckled legs, a shiny puddle forming beneath her on the hallway floor.
She started crying and ran out the back door to her car, realizing she had just had a major public accident in front of a bunch of strangers and was completely humiliated. Her bare legs shiny with pee, Gretchen never even knew she had made the cut and would get a chance to be on the show.
Saturday, 10:30am: The halls are crowded. Jenny’s number has still not been called, but she looks at mass of people who just arrived and is thankful she got there early. Jenny still has not been to the bathroom, and her bladder is urgently calling her.
Danielle sits in the chair and stares around during a pause while the next group of auditioning girls is assembled into the room. Restless, her own bladder swelling as the minutes and hours of the morning pass by without a break, she pats the edge of her skirt down, rubs her hands along the top of her thigh, stroking the fabric of her black tights. An hour and a half until lunch break, she thinks, and then it will be time for a break, for sure. While the assistant assembles the next group of girls, another assistant is quietly whispering to the judges about “this tall redheaded girl who peed herself in the hallway” and Danielle realizes it was Gretchen who apparently had a pee accident. Danielle’s heart flutters. Danielle was attracted to the tall girl, and thinking of what she looked like, squirming badly when she was done singing, Danielle realized how badly Gretchen must have had to pee, and then realizes her own bladder is somewhat full and wonders what it was like for the redhead. Had she begun to leak while singing? She wondered what Gretchen felt when she finally lost control, what the final moments of desperation were like before the pee slipped out, unyielding. Danielle had once experimented with wetting a few years ago and she remembered how she finally got the courage to try it on purpose: one day after a ballet class, holding her pee all morning, then leaving, standing by her car where nobody could see her, her bladder full, and nervously peeing into her dance clothing, a leotard and tights under a ballet skirt. She felt horribly guilty and embarrassed yet hugely thrilled by the excitement, the rush of it, but her shyness overcame her and she never experimented with it again. The look of desperation on Gretchen’s face brought back memories, and she thought she might have to relive that nervous rush again sometime. The next girl started to sing, a scratchy soprano with a nice body but an average voice. She had a good look though, so Danielle marked her as “possible” on the sheet. An hour and twenty minutes to go. Two more groups of girls, and then they would break for lunch.
Saturday, 10:45am: Jenny and her friend Carla had finished talking to some friends and were talking to Jenny’s mom, getting some last minute tips. Jenny had still not made it to the bathroom, and she was starting to pace back and forth as her bladder signaled distress. Finally, in the middle of the conversation, she blurted out her agony, and announced, “OKAY, I have GOT to go pee!!” She looked around wondering where the hell the bathroom was. Mom and Carla looked at her and laughed. “Yea, the way you’re squirming around, looking like a little girl about to have an accident, you better go off before you embarrass yourself,” Mom said, laughing. Jenny glared at her mother, then turned and headed down the hallway, now fully realizing the immense pressure that had built up inside of her. 4 bottles of water with no bathroom break was too much for her to hold all morning, and she knew it. Walking down the halls was a tedious journey; the walls were lined with girls, all trying to look sexy and gorgeous, leaning against the walls, sitting against the walls, pacing nervously near the walls, all trying to prepare themselves for the audition ahead. “Anything for fame,” Jenny thought silently to herself, thinking herself better than most of them. Surely the others had not put in the long hours in the gym, or with the vocal coaches, with the years of a strict diet, water every day. Jenny truly believed her dedication and her desire meant she was owed a break. Being the popular cheerleader and leading actress in small plays was not enough. She deserved the spotlight, she thought. Some might think she was conceited, an arrogant girl, and in some way that might be right. Truth was, Jenny was one of the prettiest girls in town, had a well trained voice, and her killer body could easily be one of the best on television. Every girl who saw her walk down that hallway marveled at her figure, the ultra low–rise jeans, her sculpted, toned abs, the way her hips moved when she walked, the posture, everything. Jenny knew she was hot, and enjoyed the attention. But her immediate need was for the fricking bathroom, she thought. God she had to go. She felt her bladder sting as swells of agony started to slowly build through her. She absolutely, positively had to pee, and she couldn’t see where the damned bathroom was. Ahh. “There it is. What? That’s IT? One stupid bathroom in the whole damned building?” she exclaimed. “Shit”, Jenny cursed under her breath as she saw the line. At least a dozen girls, probably more like two dozen, were waiting for the bathroom. Jenny looked up at the clock. 10:50 am. She got in line, wishing and hoping that it would move quickly. She had to go very badly, and wanted to relieve herself quickly and then run through her song in her head one more time and get ready for her audition, for her shot at fame. Getting on the show meant everything to her, everything. Jenny tensed, holding her pee in, looking around, wishing there was another bathroom.
11:00am: Danielle changed position in her chair– one more hour. She really needed to use the bathroom, but figured she could hold it an hour, maybe a little more. This reminded her of some of the shows she performed in, reminding her of how close she came sometimes to having an accident on stage, holding her pee in until the final curtain and then running off to the bathroom desperate to empty her bladder before she wet her costume. The last group of girls was decent, for once. Two of them were definite shots to be called back, and a few others were possible too. The assistant went out to call the next group in. After this, one more group, and a nice long lunch before they resumed with a long afternoon. Things changed with the next group; the first girl, a short, black haired Goth girl was next. Not much of a voice, but she might have had a nice body under all that nasty black garb. She didn’t get a favorable rating with any of the judges though, although Danielle wondered if her privates were pierced. Danielle moved in the chair again, feeling her bladder fill with the morning’s water.
11:00am: Jenny had been in line for only 10 minutes, and already she was near total collapse. Her bladder had her full attention now. She was pacing back and forth, her eyes looking down at the floor, looking at the dust and the marks in the hall floors, trying to keep her mind off of her screaming bladder. The pressure had violently increased, and she really, really, really needed to go pee! Her legs were clenched together, her tummy swelling and pressing hard against her jeans, and she was starting to get nervous. Could she hold it until she got to the bathroom? “Why is the damned line moving so slowly??” she thought, pacing some more, tapping her foot, trying to do anything to keep her mind off her dire need for a restroom. Just then, she heard the voice. “Group 57–66, you’re up. Numbers 57–66.”
“Damn,” she thought. That was the group right before hers. She hoped this line would move, or she was going to have to perform with her bladder demanding attention, and that would be uncomfortable. She remembered once in cheerleading camp being told she couldn’t use the bathrooms until after a series of exercises and how badly she had to pee, and how very close she came to exploding in her cheerleading skirt in front of everyone, but how she managed to hold it in until the very last moment and she made it to the bathroom with literally no time to spare. The line moved slowly, it seemed like there was only one toilet in the bathroom. She couldn’t believe it. She looked up, brushing her long brown hair aside, and noticed that quite a few of the girls in front of her looked as desperate to pee as she. Many were clutching empty water bottles, and she openly wondered if anyone had ever wet their pants waiting for an audition before. She didn’t see the yellow “wet floor” sign where Gretchen had peed her pants on the floor, and she hadn’t heard the story about the “redheaded girl who peed” yet. If only the damned line would hurry. She stood there, dying inside, her tiny body unable to deal with the quantities of water she had drunk that morning. Jenny’s need to pee increased yet again, a torment of pressure sweeping through her abdomen, causing her to wince with the stinging pain it brought. She paced nervously, afraid she might pee her pants any minute, desperate for the relief the toilet would bring. “Hurry, damn it, Hurry,” Jenny thought, as the line hadn’t budged in 5 minutes. Jenny was looking around, wondering if she could hold it much longer. She needed to pee so badly, and this line was just NOT moving. Jenny was still thirsty, her mouth drying out. Without thinking about it, she lifted her bottle of water up and finished it, slowly draining her 5th bottle, not thinking of the effects it might have on her already tortured bladder. But at least her throat was moist now.
11:25am: Danielle smiled. This last group didn’t take so long. The way it worked was pretty simple. Each girl had to bring two songs, an up–tempo or medium tempo piece, and a ballad. They sang the up tempo piece first; if the judges thought the singer had potential, then they were asked to sing the next piece, their ballad. If they felt they had heard enough (and usually that meant a negative opinion on the candidate), they could dismiss the singer right then. The group of ten girls would be brought into the room as a group and told to stand along the wall, where they could watch the others perform. They went in numerical order, and couldn’t leave until they were checked “complete” by one of the two end judges, either Danielle or the person to her left, Markus. There was a pretty good chance that they would make their lunch deadline this time as the assistant went out into the hallway to call the next group in– the last group before lunch. Danielle tapped her feet beneath the table, her legs pressed together. Danielle had to pee very badly now, and normally would have used the bathroom long ago, but she only had a little more to go. Her water intake for the morning was 4 bottles.
11:30am. Jenny paced relentlessly in line, her feet constantly moving, her body squirming. Her bladder was sending urgent messages demanding attention now. The waves of pressure overtook the poor girl every few minutes, and when one came Jenny would gasp, bend half over, and try with all her might to keep from peeing into her jeans. She was starting to perspire from her ordeal. She had never had to use the bathroom this badly, not even when she was on the verge of peeing in her cheerleading outfit last year, not even when she had wet her pants after running while her sister was in the bathroom. Jenny could barely control herself; she NEEDED to use the restroom before she went into the rehearsal room, NOW it was an absolute emergency. Her custom fit tight jeans were pressing against her taut belly, now swollen from her full bladder. Her underwear pressed tightly against her body, everything taut from the agonizing pressure built inside the struggling 100 lb girl. 5 girls to go, Jenny was getting close, but with each spot in line she advanced her body seemed to know how close she was, and her need to urinate grew. Jenny was on the verge of losing control, her bladder demanding relief, her body screaming from the swelling pressure within. “Wow, this line is like SO slow!!” Jenny pleaded to the girl next to her, an attractive blonde. “Yea, like I’m about to bust. Can you believe they only have one freaking bathroom here? I’m about to like totally pee in my pants,” the blonde said, obviously squirming in her total desperation. “Yea, me too. I could pee right now. Like, you know, if I was outside somewhere, I think I’d just pee, right in my pants, it hurts so much!!” Jenny replied, and she wasn’t really lying. Her bladder was distended, the pressure fierce, the sensation of urgent need extreme. Just a few more minutes, and she’d be in the toilet, she thought, finally peeing. GOD, she had to use the bathroom badly!! “Did you hear about that redheaded girl?” the blonde asked. “No, what about her?” Jenny replied, wincing, trying to hold back her pee as another urgent wave of pressure swept through her straining body, causing her to breathe in short breaths and tense all her muscles as she valiantly tried to contain the flood within. Spasms of pressure caused Jenny to suffer and the unyielding pressure was increasing. Jenny was nearing the point of no return where she would no longer be able to control her bladder. “Wow. Like this girl, she came running out of the rehearsal room, like, really had to go I guess, and she gets like to the line and suddenly just like screams, and then she pees in her skirt, right there in front of everybody, a big puddle on the floor! Right over there, where that yellow sign is. I mean, I heard from my friend that she went so much that they needed two mops to clean it up!” the blonde replied, rapidly placing her own hands between her legs as she herself fought off a pang of pee pressure building in her own body. “Oh my GOD,” Jenny thought, petrified at what the poor girl must have gone through. “You mean she just like peed right HERE, like didn’t even go outside or something?”
“No, like I heard, right there; like standing over there, pee running down her legs all over the floor. Can you IMAGINE? That must have been SO horrible!! Could you believe?” continued the blonde, adding dramatic flair to her words. Jenny felt another powerful twinge inside of her, and swore she could feel the pee about to burst loose. She clutched herself again, swearing at her bad luck. She just wished she could go pee, something so simple, just go pee, and everything would be fine. She just needed to pee!!!!
11:35am: Jenny is dying; doing everything she can to control her pee. 3 more people to go, and she can go. The blonde she had been talking to was whimpering, on the verge of peeing, and had stopped talking, just stood there bent over trying to hold it back. Jenny couldn’t look, her own desperation was so incredible she wondered how many more minutes she could hold out before her tortured pee hole would let go. She tried to breathe deeply, concentrating, but the pressure and pain was too much, she couldn’t stand still and had to gasp every few seconds as she forcefully clenched her muscles, keeping her pee inside of her struggling body. She couldn’t believe how bad she needed to go, and wondered if there was anyway she could sing having to pee this badly. Suddenly she hears what she dreaded. “Numbers 67–76, you’re up next. 67–76, in the room now, your turn!” The assistant calls out the next group, Jenny’s group. She was #74– the 8th girl in a group of 10. “DAMN!” Jenny swore loudly, clutching between her legs. She looked around. She had to pee, right now, or she was going to have an accident. She ran up to the front of the line where a young black haired girl was next. “Listen, I just got called, and I gotta really pee, please can I just go next and like I’ll never forget you?” Jenny begged, her voice high and nervous. Jenny pleaded with the girl, begging to go in, her bladder about to explode into her underwear. The bathroom door opened, and the black haired girl, half bent over and totally desperate, looked at her and laughed, and then ran inside, refusing to help Jenny out. “#74, attention #74, if you’re in the hall, please go to the rehearsal room now!” a voice called from down the hallway. Jenny looked up in anger and desperation, amazed that she was so close but so far, and realized she had to sing now and would have to hold it. She ran down the hallway, clutching herself as she awkwardly ran, almost crying from the incredible discomfort inside, and somehow made it into the rehearsal room at the last minute, giving her CD to the assistant and handing her form in. Jenny followed the other girls, standing alongside the side wall of the room, her bladder urgently trying to void as she fought back by clenching herself as hard as she could, her muscles taut with intensity. She stood there, 8th in line within the group, her legs squeezed together, in the most amazing pain and discomfort she ever had experienced, with her bladder screaming violently for relief. Another wave of pressure started to build, causing her to almost faint as she held off her burning pee that so badly wanted to escape her trembling body. If only she had been able to use the bathroom before this! What was she going to do? Could she hold it while the other 7 girls in front of her sang? Thoughts rushed through Jenny’s head as she struggled to maintain her dignity. She would have given anything for a bathroom break, anything to relieve the fierce stinging pain within her, anything to feel the sweet feeling of release, anything to let her pee escape her tortured body. A tear rolled down her cheek as she fought off another surge of pain rolling through her body, her bladder loudly screaming since it had long ago had reached maximum capacity. 100 lbs of girl battled the 5 bottles of water inside of her. Jenny knew she wouldn’t last much longer, and feared the worst– the humiliation of having to leave the audition to run to the bathroom if it started coming out. She’d have to hold it in, that was it, and she would just have to. The audition was that important, she’d will her body into holding back.
Danielle surveyed the next group of girls: a very pretty redhead, two stunning blondes, a black haired girl with an ultra short miniskirt and nice legs, and then she noticed this long brown haired girl running in at the last minute. Danielle froze. This last girl, #74, stood under one of the lights. She looked really nervous, kind of tense, but she was easily the most beautiful girl Danielle had ever seen. Her long hair fell straight off her shoulders with a slight curl near the ends, glistening in the lights. Her makeup, perfectly applied, her eyes shining even across the room. Her abs. Oh my god, did she have a stomach, Danielle thought. The tiny diamond belly button ring sparkled. Her jeans fit perfectly. “What brand were they?” Danielle wondered. They were so low cut you could see the form and shape of her hips as they rounded into her abs, exposing a very slight strip of underwear along the top, Danielle noticed. Danielle was stunned, unable to take her eyes off this girl, especially her sexy jeans and toned abs, the way the jeans hung on her hips, inviting thoughts as to what was beneath the fabric. But why was she so nervous? The girl looked around, pacing back and forth. Danielle sighed, wondering how she’d sing. Then Danielle realized again how badly she herself needed to use the bathroom, and seeing this wonderful girl in front of her made her excited, but at the same time made her have to pee twice as badly as before. She couldn’t wait until this group was over so she could escape to the bathroom and release her bladder. She thought about what it would be like to touch this girl. What was her name? She looked at the sheet. Jenny. “Well, Jenny, if you can sing like you look, you’ve got it made!” Danielle thought to herself. The first girl started singing.
Jenny stood there in a panic. She didn’t know what to do. Here she stood, 8th in line, having to go to the bathroom far worse than she ever had in her entire life. What was it she read somewhere? Squeeze some muscles or something? Try to think about something else? She panicked as she thought about the horror of having an accident, and needed to think of something else to distract her. She thought about the 2nd verse of her up–tempo song. She could barely concentrate, the pain was too much, her need to urinate growing by the second, each swell inside of her magnifying the stinging pressure she felt. Her bladder was stretched, swollen, and desperate, like a balloon about to pop. Her body badly wanted to void, to release the urine, to feel the escape. She looked up at the clock. Maybe 20 more minutes, and she could run outside and just pull her jeans off and pee next to the car. Anything. She knew there was no way she could wait in that stupid line for the one stupid goddamned bathroom! A wave of pressure overtook her, and she doubled over before pulling herself together. Her pee was pushing inside of her, about to release down her urethra and out her tortured pee hole, any minute, and her underwear would be capturing her flood. Somehow she had to hold it. And above all, somehow she had to act like she was confident. No matter how bad it hurt, no matter how intense the stinging pain was from her distended bladder, she had to act like everything was okay. She stood up straight, wincing inside from the amazingly fierce pressure and discomfort her bladder was causing, and forced a stage smile. She tried to relax her posture a little and her bladder violently throbbed, for a very small fraction of a second, Jenny thought she felt the slightest drop of pee escape from her clenched pee hole. She panicked and resumed the taut pressure, and tried to nonchalantly look down at her legs. She saw a very faint darkness on her jeans, small in size, but still, a small wet spot, and she swore. She had to control herself. She could NOT have an accident, not HERE, not NOW! The next girl was singing now. Jenny paced back and forth, trying to think about anything else except her need to pee. Her pee had broached the threshold, the very small droplets that escaped her clenched muscles meant she was on the edge, her pee, just fractions of an inch from escaping from her tensed body into the outside world. She felt another wave, and tightened up. The pain was immense, Jenny tried to control it, but her body was weakening. Another very small spurt of pee barely escaped at the very end. Jenny gasped, sweat beads forming on her forehead. She felt the pee escape, and knew there’d be a small wet spot. Maybe it would just look like a shadow. She wanted so badly to go pee, to relieve the pain, but cold not. She had to hold it back, no matter what. She squeezed her self harder, the muscles at taut as she could, trying to hold off the accident waiting to happen. The pain increased, she paced back and forth. She couldn’t stand still, she could barely breathe, her hair felt sweaty against her head, her panties throbbing from the pressure in her crotch. She could not let any more pee out, and she clenched her muscles together with all her might and stood there, hoping the one inch wet spot on her tight jeans wouldn’t be noticed by anyone. She wanted to go off in a corner and cry and just pee in her pants; she had to pee SO badly she could barely hold still, but she needed to remain calm. She DESERVED the success the audition would bring. She stood there as the third girl started singing. She was barely controlling the torrential hurricane of pee inside of her that so badly wanted to escape her body.
Danielle didn’t think much of the first singers. Maybe it was because she was looking over at Jenny most of the time. Jenny looked, could it be, like she had to pee? Danielle kept staring. Sure enough, Jenny was pacing back and forth, trying to look calm, but Danielle recognized a desperate girl when she saw one, especially after thinking about that redhead, what was her name? Oh yea, Gretchen. Danielle’s nipples grew taut under her thin blouse, poking through the fine fabric. She looked at Jenny, and from across the room noticed Jenny wasn’t wearing a bra either. Danielle had to pee badly too, she laughed inside, realizing the irony that both her and the girl of her dreams were desperate for a bathroom break. She wondered if Jenny would wet herself when she headed for the bathroom after it was her turn too. Maybe Danielle could leave and follow Jenny down the hall and watch, hoping that she wouldn’t make it in time and have the same accident Gretchen had. Danielle thought to herself that she would love to see that girl pee in those incredible jeans, and then felt guilty about the thought and concentrated on the girl now singing. Danielle’s bladder started to throb, sending waves of pressure through her body. Danielle realized that she too really needed to pee badly as well.
Jenny couldn’t believe how badly things were going. She was standing there; nearly last in the group, squirming uncontrollably, trying to hold her thoughts together, trying to hold her pee inside of her. At any other point in time she would have been wetting her pants uncontrollably and only because of her sheer willpower and desire to have a great audition could she hold her pee back. Too much water for too small a girl, and she knew it. She looked around the room. The tall dark haired judge was gorgeous, and she thought she caught her looking at her. That troubled her. Was the judge going to be jealous of her because she was sexy, or would she appreciate her and realize that looking hot would be good for TV? Jenny hoped for the latter. She never imagined that the judge sitting only 20 feet away was a closet lesbian who had been mentally fantasizing about Jenny during the past 15 minutes. Jenny also would never know how horribly badly the judge had to urinate either. Jenny then scanned the other 3 male judges, figuring she’d need to make an impression on them to get a good score. She somehow managed to hold back another stinging wave of pressure that almost caused her to lose total control, and stood there, squirming, trying to maintain her composure.
Danielle simply wished they could skip these girls and see if that Jenny girl could sing. Danielle really wanted to use a bathroom, and was nearing a very uncomfortable desperation herself, and seeing such a gorgeous audition candidate wasn’t helping. Danielle placed one of her hands between her black tights, up her short skirt, and touched herself, pressing against her throbbing womanhood, feeling both her desire for the singer and her own need to pee so badly.
Jenny was next, just one girl to go. She stood there, squirming, barely able to control her agony, fearing the inevitable wetness, trying to hold back. A huge spasm over took her and she froze, and her throbbing bladder won this time; she peed into her panties for a half second, and Jenny grimaced, her eyes tearing up, barely able to stem the flow. She felt the warm wetness spread through the fine fabric of her panties and then felt the unmistakable sensation of a wet spot in her jeans. She panicked, looked down, and swore inwardly; a 3 inch wet mark on her inner thigh stood out, dark and shiny. She almost cried in embarrassment. She nonchalantly tried to wipe it dry, brushing her fingers over her jeans. A few minutes, and then she’d just run out the fire exit and pee in her jeans, she figured, just a few more minutes. Hold on, she thought to herself, hold on. She panicked as she realized she was about to pee her pants in front of the judges. She had to hold on. Somehow. Her bladder had other plans.
Danielle saw Jenny gasp and suddenly clench, and thought maybe she saw a dark spot on her jeans? Could it be? Could this girl be struggling? It was time to find out. Danielle called out “#74, you’re up!” Jenny walked sheepishly in front of the judges. Danielle motioned her to come closer and asked a few preliminary questions. Jenny answered like she had them memorized. Danielle could not believe how stunning this young woman was. Her eyes held your gaze, her face was almost Nordic in beauty, her abs, her nipples poking through the thin camisole top, oh my GOD, Danielle thought. And then Danielle’s eyes glanced down at Jenny’s jeans. She gasped as she saw the obvious wet spot on Jenny’s crotch. Danielle almost wet her tights underneath the table from the excitement. Obviously Jenny was in a panic, and even standing there, Danielle could see the tautness of Jenny’s muscles as she desperately tried to control what must have been an incredibly desperate need to urinate! Jenny stood there, looking at Danielle, wondering why she was checking her out so much, and then tapped her foot violently as a massive wave of pee pressure overtook her body. Another small spurt escaped. Danielle suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, saw the shiny wetness escape for just a brief second. She was peeing her pants! Danielle thought. Jenny started to shake, holding back the flood, and the other judge asked her to start. Somehow Jenny kept her pee back, and she started singing, her body screaming for relief. Danielle pressed her hand harder against her crotch, desperate to pee badly and extremely excited about seeing the pee escape the struggling singer in front of her. Danielle stroked herself through the tights, feeling her black panties press against herself, wishing she could masturbate right there. Then Danielle stopped fantasizing when Jenny sang. Danielle was taken back by the incredible voice she heard– by far the best of the morning. Enough vocal gymnastics to excite the audience, but she didn’t overdo the inflections like so many of the other singers. Perfect pitch, a pure tone, at least a 5 octave range, Danielle sat stunned at what she heard. This girl was easily the best she’d ever auditioned personally over the past two years. As for Jenny, she sang her heart out, the moment of her life. She tried to forget her screaming bladder and amazingly, while she sung, she had controlled her body’s urges. Her control, however, was short lived. The problems came back with urgency when she stopped after completing her up–tempo song. She stood there, waiting for the go–ahead to sing her ballad, and her bladder violently contracted, sending a two second stream of pee uncontrollably through her tight thin panties and into her expensive custom fitted jeans. Her pee hole expanded with the gushing stream as it sizzled through the cotton/lycra fabric of her panties and into the expensive fabric of her jeans. She was losing it. She gasped and started to cry, unable to hold the tears back. She looked up at Danielle, like a lost dog pleading for a home, begging. “Um. Please. Um. Can I please– um. Have a bathroom break before the next song? It’s an emergency pleaseeee,” she pleaded incomprehensibly, her legs tight together, her body half bending over. “What?” Danielle asked, unable to understand the mumbling, desperate girl. Danielle obviously knew what the problem was, and felt her own urge to void increase. “Please, um, I have to go pee, can i use the bathroom pleaseeeee?” Jenny repeated, her voice wailing as tears again started to roll down her cheeks as she felt her bladder violently thrash inside of her. The judges looked shocked. By now all the other judges realized Jenny was about to have an accident in her jeans. Danielle almost passed out. She saw the 2 second stream slowly spread through the fine fabric of Jenny’s jeans and Danielle’s nipples grew firm and hard, poking out of her blouse. Jenny trembled as the other judge explained she’d be able to use the restroom after her next song. Jenny stood there, and suddenly started crying uncontrollably. Wave after wave of pain overtook the young girl, and she could feel the pee build up to the very edge of her pee hole, seconds away from escaping. She had to sing, somehow. Another jet of hot pee escaped, thrashing into her panties again, the wetness spreading, with the warmth obvious to Jenny. She was peeing her pants! But she controlled it, somehow, and she tried to start the next song of hers, a ballad, but couldn’t get past 2 verses. She stopped, and begged for a bathroom again. “Please, please can I, please may I go to the bathroom please?” she wailed, crying loudly now. She was shaking, and suddenly her body lost control. Jenny stood there, 5 feet from the judges, and wet her pants. Pee exploded out of her tortured bladder, flooded through her burning urethra and flooded into her tight panties, flooding them instantly. The pee soaked into the expensive custom denim fabric of her jeans and stream after stream of shining pee flooded down her thighs, soaking both inner thighs and coming along the front edge of her left thigh. She couldn’t control the flow and Jenny stood there, crying, peeing in her jeans for almost 2 minutes, unable to sing, unable to speak, and unable to move. She shook as she cried while she peed streams and streams of hot urine into her clothes. Danielle could not believe it. The sexual rush she felt as she watched Jenny urinate into her clothing at this close distance was too much. Danielle’s full bladder exploded, and Danielle let loose a torrent of pee into her black panties and tights, immediately soaking the folding chair she sat on, pee flooding from her own body, dripping off the chair as she watched in awe at the peeing girl just in front of her. Jenny’s crotch was dark and soaked, and the pee had now soaked her entire jeans legs and was dripping onto the floor. The music had stopped now and the room was silent, the only sound was the hissing, sizzling noise as poor Jenny exploded the last jets of hot pee into her clothes, her jeans completely soaked and pee streams running down her legs to the floor. The other 9 girls in the group along the wall gasped, giggling, witnessing this singer totally having an accident in public. Jenny was crying relentlessly, pee still flowing out of her, her fists balled up by her sides, shaking, slightly bent over, her face red and scrunched up, her hair now a mess, and pee still shooting out of her weakened pee hole. Danielle pushed her fingers harder against her now soaking black tights, feeling her own pee warmly flood through the fabric. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and how incredibly it turned her on. Jenny was a wreck, and after a little more than 2 minutes of peeing, she stopped. Pee still dripped from the cuffs of her jeans onto the floor. Her ankle socks were soaked, her thighs heavy with the wetness of the jeans against them. She looked up through her sweat drenched hair and red eyes at Danielle and pleaded, “Oh my God I am so sorry! Please can I come back, please? Oh God I wet my pants, I’m so sorry!” Jenny was in shock. Danielle could say nothing, too engrossed in the girl’s incredible accident, but somehow finally managed to say, “You can always re–audition, but you failed to complete this one”, and she scribbled down “Incomplete” on the form. Jenny was sobbing uncontrollably, pee still dripping from her jeans, and she looked up in total embarrassment and ran out of the room in anguish. Danielle finished peeing into her skirt and tights, and sat there and felt the huge orgasmic rush as she finished wetting herself. The black drape over the table prevented anyone from seeing Danielle’s “accident”. The floor was a mess now, covered with Jenny’s pee, and they moved the last 2 girls into the after lunch group and a sound tech came over with a mop to clean up. The other 3 judges left. Danielle sheepishly stood up and once the tech left the mop, she went over and cleaned up her own puddle, feeling her pee run down her tights as she stood, and then cleaned her chair. She disconnected the digital video camera from her laptop that they used to tape all the prospective singers and dashed out the back door and headed back to the hotel, amazed at what she had just experienced. Jenny was crying, apologizing, and trying to hide her obvious accident as she walked back to her mother. Her mom was astonished, Carla laughed, and everyone in the halls noticed the incredibly gorgeous girl who had just totally peed her pants very obviously. Jenny was mortified with the embarrassment as her Mom led her out back to the car. Jenny’s day had started well and taken a turn for the worse as she left the building, still crying, still dripping, pee droplets on the floor behind her as she walked.
1:00pm: Jenny was sobbing on the drive back to her house. Her mother and her friend Carla looked aghast. How could Jenny have wet herself? Jenny couldn’t stop crying, the day a total disaster. She got home and hobbled up the stairs into the shower to clean up, still crying about the humiliation of the day, her mom and her friend downstairs, talking in shock about what had just happened.
1:00pm: Danielle was in the shower, masturbating furiously to the pee accident she witnessed just an hour ago. Her wet tights and panties and soaked plaid skirt lay on the bathroom floor; she’d have to find a way to wash them before her trip out the next day. As she brought herself to climax she imagined what it would feel like to hold, to touch, and to console Jenny as she wet herself. Danielle fantasized what she experienced with the young singer, wishing she could have touched her while she had her accident. Danielle turned on the shower and cleaned up, then changed into another outfit for the afternoon judging, hoping nobody saw her leave the building in her soaked skirt and tights.
Saturday evening, 9:00pm: Jenny had not been able to eat. She had tried to go out and run, but didn’t have the enthusiasm. She lay in her bed, wearing a t–shirt and a pair of white panties, sobbing. She couldn’t believe her luck. 3 years of vocal classes with the best instructor in town. 3 years of going to yoga, the gym, dance classes, working out, eating right. Her expensive custom fit jeans, soaked with her own pee, sat in the hamper, ruined. All that time, all that training, as well as all that preparation, had gone to waste. A total waste. Jenny sobbed louder, screaming into her pillow, having a nervous breakdown, the light pink fabric of her pillow stained with her tears. Worse yet, she had to pee badly yet again; her was bladder tortured by the morning’s ordeal, she had been peeing all afternoon. She was shaking, crying in despair from her ruined day, her shattered dreams, thinking of the embarrassment she faced from the other people as she left the hall soaking wet– the teasing, the looks from the other girls, all staring at the pretty girl who obviously had peed herself during the audition. Jenny couldn’t stand it, couldn’t handle it, and as she shook, crying and screaming in despair into her pillow, her bladder once again lost control, and she lay there, face down, pee once again jetting out of her pee hole, flooding the light pink sheets, a huge puddle forming in her bed. She sobbed harder, racked with despair, pee soaking her entire front of her panties, her fine neatly trimmed public hair soaked in her own wetness. Jenny had the worst day of her life.
Across town, 20 miles away, at the hotel, 4 empty bottles of water lay on the desk in Danielle’s room. The laptop was turned on. Danielle had drunk the water and was dying to pee. She was trying to hold it as long as she could until her body would make her release it. She wanted to know what it felt like for Jenny to have an accident, and she was close. She lay down on her bed; face down, the laptop in back of her pillow. Danielle had captured the video of Jenny’s performance. She had, in clear digital color, a video of the poor girl peeing her pants. Danielle lay there, looking again at the pee slowly darkening Jenny’s lovely jeans, then streaking faster as it started to flow, then exploding as she lost control, the jeans getting darker and darker while the pee soaked the fabric. Danielle couldn’t take the wait, and violently peed herself in the hotel bed, pee quickly flooding the hotel sheets. She put her hand between her legs, felt her now sopping wet public bush, then proceeded to masturbate herself again to an orgasmic frenzy while she watched the video again of Jenny peeing herself, begging for the bathroom break, and then exploding. Danielle had the most exciting day of her life as she lay there masturbating in her wet bed to Jenny’s ordeal. Danielle knew then that she’d have to experiment with wetting much more. She fantasized about Jenny constantly, wanting to hold her, to see her pee, even to see her pee in the bed, she thought. She’d have to call her, make some excuse up to talk to her again, to see her incredible body again. But she was shy. It might never be. She so wanted to share the feeling of peeing with Jenny, but knew it would never happen. Danielle smiled again as she hit “rewind” on the media player to watch the incident yet again.
Across town, Jenny, at the very same moment Danielle climaxed, had just finished peeing into her bed in utter agony and despair, still sobbing uncontrollably. The agony and despair of one girl had been the pleasure and fulfillment of another. Danielle smiled.
By: Gillian