Jessica's Horror

The automatic door of the van hissed with air escaping loudly from the hydraulics, and creaked on old bearings as it slowly opened. The cool night air rushed in to greet the passengers as they stepped out of the vehicle in front of the hotel. Grasping the chrome handrail, they each stepped onto the black stair platform and then onto the asphalt parking lot. The high–rise building was new, the crowning jewel of the airport hotels, rising 15 stories into the clear night sky, suites along the very top floors and well appointed rooms below. Twin miniature man–made lakes were in front, framed by the granite entrance, a pair of palms framing the lakes. The blurred words “HOTEL SHUTTLE” were visible, reflecting in the lakes as the van idled there, its last passengers disembarking. A light breeze blew, rippling the reflection in the lakes. “Good afternoon, Karen,” the driver called out to the last passenger, a flight attendant for one of the airlines. Karen looked up at the driver, smiled briefly, mumbled something and grabbed the handrail to walk out. Her mind was elsewhere. Stepping off the bus, she gingerly walked towards the revolving door to the lobby, still fifty feet away, and each step cautious. Inside of her body, her bladder was throbbing viciously, the pain searing through her tensed body. Her neatly manicured hands clutched her gray skirt as she struggled, her toned legs, sheathed in dark blue pantyhose, pressed together as she tried to hold herself together, her bladder tissue stretched and swollen, her need to urinate severe, immediate. One foot slowly in front of the other, she tried to walk; she was near bursting, wave after wave of unrelenting pressure from her tortured bladder dominated her thoughts. The attractive 28–year–old’s trembling body was in panic, her need to pee so extreme, and the pain so intense. Her blue uniform jacket shielded her tight gray blouse from the wind, but she still felt her nipples grow erect when the cool air hit the thin fabric. Her expensive bra hugged her 36C breasts, and her long dark hair was tied back neatly in a ponytail. Brown eyed, 5’8 and attractive in a fit and athletic way, while still being curvy, Karen was the model of the attractive flight attendant. She walked quickly, small short clicks heard through the crisp air as her shoes hit the pavement. Walking was difficult; she needed to pee SO badly. Concentrating, tense, on holding her pee in, valiantly trying to control the agonizing pressure so great inside, Karen continued, her body dying for immediate relief. She stumbled slightly and tripped on a strewn beer can in the lot, but managed to keep from falling. Karen gasped sharply, the cool night air rushing to her lungs. She almost started to pee into her black Victoria’s Secret panties, but somehow held on. Her heart raced and she took more quick steps. The burning inside grew in tenacity. Her urethra was burning with stinging pain, her pee on the edge of leaking. Karen was desperate to pee, more than ever before. She knew it. She knew she was close to having an accident in her clothes. Her bladder pulsed violently within her. A few of the other people in the lobby knew it too – they watched the desperate flight attendant as she made her way to the doors. It was obvious that the poor woman was completely besides herself needing to pee so badly, what with her tentative quick steps, the clutching of her outfit, the sweat on her forehead even in the cool night, and the slightly hunched over look of total desperation. Everybody noticed. Karen could have cared less; the screaming pain inside was too much– her mind was concentrating on one thing, and one thing only– to hold her pee in. Somehow.
Into the lobby Karen walked, quickening her pace as the pain increased yet again, the stinging constant now as every motion tormented her stretched bladder, the pee moving inside of her, pressing hard against every membrane of her bladder. Her vision was clouded by the intense agony in her belly, the pain from her engorged womanhood beyond imagining as she struggled to function without exploding into her clothes. The large room was decked out in splendor, with fine paintings on the walls, antique oak furniture, a bright polished elevator at one end and a marble counter on the other wall. A pair of busy clerks worked behind the counter in crisp black uniforms. Karen fidgeted as she walked up to the counter, then to the desk clerk, checking herself in for the night’s layover. As the clerk stood there, punching keys on the computer terminal, she felt faint while the extreme pressure overtook her, her pee torturing her insides. A 3 hour flight without a bathroom break followed by a trip to the airport bar for a few Long Island ice teas and a couple of cups of coffee were taking their toll. Karen struggled, feeling her pee surge sharply inside of her. She clenched her legs together hard, her calves shaking with tension, wishing she could jam her hand in between her skirt to press against her tortured pee hole to hold in the flow. She was so close to peeing herself she knew it. How long could this take? Could she manage to hold on at least until she got to the bathroom in her room? The surging pain galvanized her thoughts, the pressure grew again, her muscles stretched in agony, and she could barely keep from peeing. Karen fidgeted as the clerk punched more keys. “A new one,” she thought, tapping her shoe on the polished concrete floor, her tormented bladder screaming at her. She bent half over, trying to control her pain, and nervously stroked the blue fabric of her pantyhose. Her fingernail caught the edge of a fiber and she cursed. A run in her hose now, she realized. She needed to pee so badly. “Hurry up, hurry UP,” Karen thought silently to herself as another wave of agony traveled through her pain–racked body. She uncrossed her legs and panicked as she felt the screaming wave of pressure increase, and quickly crossed them again. The other calf was in front this time. Her bladder was about to explode inside of her, its walls stretched to the very limits, filled beyond capacity, the tortured oversize organ pressing hard against her pubic bone, the pressure extreme. Karen paced some more, her left foot tapping, her hand nervously clutching the side of her gray uniform skirt tightly, her fingers taut as they clutched the material. Her need to pee increased, the pressure to go surged through the poor flight attendants body as she stood there, waiting in agony, desperate for a bathroom. Finally the clerk handed her a key card. Karen grabbed it, feeling the burning sensation increase as she reached to sign the charge slip and the hotel ledger. A large wave of pressure overtook her suddenly, the pain exploding from within. Her bladder stretched further, the pain agonizing. Her eyes widened and she tried to hold it back, the stinging sensation violent and constant now. She tried her best, tensing all of her muscles, but her tortured bladder could not be denied. Clutching the key card with one hand while muttering a hurried “Thank You” and grasping at her skirt with the other hand, her body convulsed as the pressure wave reached a peak. Her distended bladder pulsed strongly, and suddenly Karen’s tortured bladder sent a sharp jet of screaming hot pee into her panties. She froze in terror. Then another short sharp burst of hot pee sprayed out, quickly wetting the crotch of her dark blue pantyhose while dampening her panties further. She clenched her legs tighter. The 28–year–old flight attendant was starting to go to the bathroom in her uniform, and she couldn’t do anything about it. “Not now, no, NO,” she thought inside, devoting all of her energy into somehow controlling the pee flow. She took a few steps, another sharp hot burst from her pee hole. Her womanhood was engorged, straining now. The hot pee spread through the fabric. Crying, concentrating, clenching, Karen somehow managed to stop the flow. She had only peed into her uniform for a maybe six seconds, but she could feel the warm dampness against her skin. She quickly headed for the elevator, trying to rush while holding back the rest of her pee at the same time. It hurt SO bad to hold it, the pressure was unrelenting. Punching the UP button with more force than necessary, she held tightly onto her luggage and tapped her feet violently. Spasm after spasm racked her body as her pee, now used to a little freedom, desired further release. The elevator was making clanking noises as it neared the lobby level, slowly coming down to the lobby. Karen stood there with tears running down her face, her mascara streaking, pain racking her body, and waited, in the most intense need to use the bathroom she had ever felt, her face red with tortured desperation, sweat running down her neck. As the door opened, a violent spasm overtook her tensed body, and without avail Karen once again peed another violent spray out of her tortured pee hole, further wetting her panties. She stood there in panic while trying to control the flow but couldn’t, and urinated into her pantyhose for another two seconds. Warm pee was now soaking her crotch and she totally realized she was about to lose all control. As she stepped into the elevator, she realized with horror that she could feel the pee seep down the inside of her left thigh, the warmth spreading through the tight fabric. The older couple in the elevator almost collided with her as she walked in. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, hoping nobody saw the dark marks in her hose. Others followed her into the small compartment. The sides were mirrored and the back was a solid panel of oak wood with brass handrails. Karen looked in the mirror at the others in the elevator, and quickly punched the 12th floor. She stood to one side with her legs clenched together, her pee dying to continue. Another spasm overtook her. Another pee spurt, even stronger than before, went on this time for three seconds. Pee sizzled out of her body, the hot wetness flowing, while she tried to clench her muscles. She started softly crying again, the pressure too intense, hoping nobody would notice her plight. The elevator music masked the sound of her hissing pee, and Karen stood there, trapped and embarrassed, trying to contain the pee that was streaming out of her pee hole. She felt her left leg dampen as pee ran down the fabric of her pantyhose. She hoped the other occupants of the elevator didn’t notice, especially since she was still in uniform. The older couple exited on 7. Karen stood there, hands clasped in front of her gray skirt, dying inside. The elevator stopped on 8. A group of high school cheerleaders crowded in, all giggling and laughing and happy. They were all still in uniform, their short outfits exposing their young bodies for all for the world to see. One of the girls tripped and walked backward into Karen. Karen felt the girls butt press against her upper thigh and she backed off while suddenly peeing another stream into her pantyhose. Pee jetted from her pee hole as the girl stumbled forward, regaining her balance. Karen almost ended up peeing on the cheerleader’s skirt. The girl, a badge identifying her as Tricia, mumbled an apology and then went back to talking with the group as Karen struggled once again to stem the flow of pee spouting from inside her body. Her panties were getting soaked now. The inside of her legs were very obviously wet with pee stains and she was mentally willing the elevator to get to her floor. Some competition, she thought, looking at the girls, and tried to turn away from the group, and then closed her eyes as another violent surge of pain overtook her. Pee escaped again despite all of her best efforts to hold it back. Karen peed another three seconds into her pantyhose, this time the pee visibly and quickly staining the fabric as it flooded down her leg. A few droplets hit the elevator floor between her legs. Karen was panicking. One of the girls looked over and started giggling, touching her friend on the shoulder. She whispered something in her ear and another girl looked over. “Wow, uh, do you like have to go to the bathroom real bad or something,” the girl with the badge saying her name “Tricia” asked Karen, noticing the obvious wet trail on Karen’s pantyhose. “Um, Yea,” Karen admitted, almost crying, trying to hold back the next surge. She so desperately wanted to pee, but somehow held on. “Wow, you look like you’re having an accident!” Tricia giggled. “Can’t hold your pee?” She continued teasing Karen and then started laughing to her friends. It was so cool, they thought, to see this flight attendant starting to wet herself in the elevator and so they picked fun at Karen, embarrassing her. Tricia pointed to the wet marks on Karen’s pantyhose, deliberately teasing the flight attendant, laughing and giggling as Karen struggled to maintain some semblance of dignity in front of the girls. The elevator arrived on 12, and as Karen got off another shot of pee burst from her burning pee hole and flooded her panties. The cheerleaders giggled loudly as the elevator door closed behind Karen, and were still talking about “the flight attendant who peed in her pants” as they reached their floor. Karen’s face was red from embarrassment, her body still screaming for release. Her pantyhose damp with her own warm pee, Karen struggled to get to her room. Thankfully nobody was in the hallway. Struggling with the key card, she lost her concentration and peed another small spurt into her clothes, again crying out from the pain and unable to stem the flow. In all of her life Karen had never had to use the bathroom this badly, not even when she peed into her tight bathing suit at a swim meet as a teenager causing people to laugh at her as pee streamed down her bare legs in front of everyone at the pool. Her panties soaked, she finally managed to open the door and somehow once again summoned all of her will power to clench the flow of pee. Karen quickly entered the room, turned on the lights, locked the door behind her and pushed her bag away. Inside now, she leaned against the wall, her back to the tan wallpaper, her legs spread slightly, sighed, and then, with her right hand, clenched her womanhood through the skirt as her body again surged, but it was too late. Her bladder exploded. Karen peed violently and uncontrollably into her uniform as she stood there, breathing rapidly while the pee burst from her clenched body, gushing and sizzling through her panties and hose, the hot wetness flooding her clothes. Karen couldn’t control it anymore so finally she let go; the battle was over. Pee stream after pee stream streamed from within her, a loud sizzling noise reverberating through the quiet hotel room as pee stream after pee stream cascaded out of her pee hole. Pee ran everywhere as Karen peed torrents of urine into her clothes, ocean after ocean of pee flooding her hose, her legs, forming huge puddle on the carpeted floor. Hot warmth spread through her inner thighs and it looked like rivers of pee were rushing down the already shiny and soaked pantyhose as she finished emptying her bladder right there in the huge puddle on the carpet. She reached her hands back and unclasped her skirt and kicked it away, then took off her shoes. Her jacket she threw off, and she stood there, in her pantyhose and blouse with her nipples fully erect from excitement, before jamming her hands under her pantyhose into the warm wetness of her panties. Her fingers explored through her neatly trimmed dark pubic hair, groping towards her womanhood. She started peeing again, feeling the warmth of the pee flow through her fingers, the hissing pressure exciting and dangerous as the hot wetness ran over her fingers. She ran her fingers up through her pubic mound, wetting her pubic hair, stroking herself violently, while trying to keep peeing. She managed to pee on herself until her bladder was empty; then took four quick leaping steps to land on the bed. Her finger was quickly inside of herself, exploring, massaging her clitoris with the one hand while touching her body all over with her other pee soaked hand. After a few minutes, her bladder still not entirely emptied from the torment of that afternoon, she began peeing again over her fingers as she masturbated. She was breathing heavily and twitching violently on the bed as she pleasured herself, probing deeper and massaging stronger as she approached climax. Karen moaned loudly as the waves of pleasure overtook her lonely body, squirming on the soaking wet sheets, her body heaving on the bed, and she had cascading orgasms as her body tensed, the edges of the room becoming faint. She breathed heavily, but slower. She was staring at the light fixture above her wet bed. The noises of the streets and the airport were off in the background, thanks to the extra soundproofing the hotel had done, but she enjoyed them just the same. The familiar sounds to someone who traveled. The lights of the city shone in the distance out of her picture window. The smell of pee permeated through the room, her sheets wet with urine and the puddle still large over by the door. Her breathing slowly regained normal rate and she thought once again to the events earlier in the day. What an amazing flight it was, she thought; finally fulfilling a fantasy she had been dying to try during one of the boring layover nights. At 28 years old, Karen had forced herself have a pee accident, on purpose, into her flight attendant uniform, and she loved it. She lay there and smiled broadly, not believing she had finally done it, had finally got up the courage tonight. She stood up, took off her blouse and bra, and feeling the need to pee again, walked to the bathroom, got into the shower still in her tights, and as she stood there, she turned on the spigot. Water was now running over her nipples while she released her bladder once again into her tights as she started to masturbate again to the day’s events. Her only regret was being “caught” by those damned giggling cheerleaders. She hadn’t planned on having the accident in front of anyone. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice her name badge and complain to the airline.
*****
Earlier that day, many miles away:
Jessica sat at the caf’ table with her ex boyfriend. They had just finished another argument and her head hurt. Drinking the lemonade the server had just brought her, replacing the empty one she left behind, she took out an aspirin pill and held it in her hands. “See,” she said, “you always make me so damned stressed. I’ve got a headache like you wouldn’t believe now.” “I know, I’m sorry,” he mentioned back. “I’ve got a B–12 pill if you want it, you know that helps with your stress.” “Yea, dammit, if I’ve got to be on a plane for the next three hours I’m going to need something,” she yelled, grabbing the pill from her ex boyfriend. She dropped both tablets into her mouth at once and took a large gulp of lemonade. She started to relax. “So, you’re really glad to be moving to the big city, huh,” he asked. “Yep.” Single word answers. He hated them. Jessica had been dating him on and off for over a year but as time went on it was clear they weren’t compatible. Jessica didn’t think much of wanting a relationship and he thought she was a stuck up graduate student bitch. Jessica had just finished her Masters degree after struggling with grad school on a part time basis for many years. 26 years old, she was decent looking. Not gorgeous, not a model, but at 5’ 5” with a runner’s body, 34B breasts, long dark brown hair and muscular legs she was sexy in her own way. More than one guy had done a double take when she ran by in a pair of short running shorts on a hot day, her six pack abs showing beneath her sports bra, her nipples taut and erect through the lycra fabric. But this was to be no more. Jessica was ending the relationship, cutting all ties with the city where she grew up. Her belongings were already on the moving van, heading to the city, and all she had left with her was a carry on bag, her purse, and her tickets. The two looked at each other in contempt. He wanted to have sex with her one last time, but she wouldn’t let him. He thought about those strong, slightly stocky thighs, the solid butt, the pointed nipples when she got excited and the bulge in his jeans grew. She looked pretty good today too, he thought, thinking she did that just to tease him one last time. Oh, if only one more time he could bed her and touch her neatly trimmed pubic mound with his tongue and then enter her. His bulge grew. She was dressed nice too, he thought. Jessica was wearing an Express miniskirt in a fine white fabric with a few scattered flower and stem designs offset in a strange but nice beige–olive color. The skirt rose above her knees easily and the fabric was slightly transparent. He loved her in this, always walking behind her when he could, staring as the way her white panties with a small print showed beneath the tight fabric of the skirt around her well developed runner’s ass. She always got on him for being a panty line freak, but she secretly enjoyed the fact that this particular skirt turned men on so. She never understood it herself, but whenever she wore it, guys would stare, getting that glimpse of panty through the thin fabric, trying to prolong conversations with her, their beady eyes always glancing down for a peek. She laughed inside. On top, she wore a fine blouse in a color that matched the design of the skirt, a fine, thin clingy fabric that exposed a little bit of her abs, just about an inch or two. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were somewhat visible through the slightly transparent and clingy material. He noticed they were erect, poking through the fabric. Jessica sat there and was already on her third lemonade, her mind elsewhere. She wasn’t realizing that her ex boyfriend was fantasizing about her body one last time. They weren’t even talking. The noise of the busy streets and the clanking of other tables around them were the only noises. Then, suddenly hearing a chime go off at another table in the caf’, she looked at her watch and panicked. “Oh SHIT, DAMN!” she swore quickly. She stood up angrily. “Damn. I’ve got to go now. You were supposed to tell me when it was time to go, damn it!!” Angry that she was running late and would have to rush or miss her flight, she stared at her ex boyfriend. “I’m sorry,” he said, halfway lying. “So, I guess this is it, huh?” he said, standing up with a sad look on his face. “Yea. Well, it’s been nice. Goodbye,” and with that, Jessica gave him a brief and very polite hug and ran off to her rental car. She had sold her car the week before and was renting for a few days to get around and had to get the car back to the agency and then get through security to get checked in before her flight left. She hated being late. Her dark brunette hair piled behind her, tied up in a loose ponytail, she rushed off to the car and screeched the tires as she left the lot. Her old boyfriend stole one last long glance at her panties so obviously visible tight on her developed ass as she walked away in that favorite, slightly transparent skirt he loved so much. “Bitch,” he thought, and he stood there. Angry. As she waited at the red light at the intersection, Jessica realized that she needed to use the bathroom. Jessica tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She had wanted to use the restroom at the cafe before she left for the airport, but there was no time. She needed to go, but she’d take care of that at the airport. As she headed up the onramp to the expressway she grabbed the quart bottle of water she was bringing along and started to drink it. She mashed the accelerator pedal down and sped as she headed off to the airport, glad to be gone from her stupid ex boyfriend and glad to soon be out of this town. And glad to be heading to a bathroom at the airport soon, as she felt her tummy bulge from the water and lemonade she had drank that day.
Her ex boyfriend slowly walked away from the caf’, a depressed look now in his eyes, and reached into his wallet to pay the bill and then looked for his vitamins. A health freak, he was into healthy eating and took supplements all day. He then looked down at his hand, shocked at his mistake. He thought he’d given Jessica a B–12 vitamin for her stress, but instead had given her one of the diuretics he was taking. Then he laughed, out loud, into the wind, at nobody in particular. “Well, you stuck up bitch, I hope you enjoy most of your flight in the planes bathroom!” Jessica, he knew, was a constant water drinker. She’d admitted to him once in embarrassment that she wet herself whenever she ran her half–marathons and was kind of embarrassed about that, coming to the finish line with her nylon running shorts soaking wet, pee streak marks down her legs. Girls who were 26–years–old shouldn’t pee their pants, she always said, and that was the only time she ever had problems with bladder control. He secretly fantasized about seeing her urinate into her running shorts, but she was so conservative about sex that he knew she’d never understand his desires. The thought of seeing pee drip down her slightly muscular runner’s legs in a pair of shorts got him excited again, a bulge returning to his jeans. Tipping the server by tossing a five–dollar bill on the table, he walked slowly to his car and drove off, heading to work.
Jessica was approaching the airport, and she found the signs directing her to “RENTAL CAR RETURN”. Pulling into the garage, she swore at herself for running late. Thirty minutes to catch her flight. She pulled the car up behind the other cars in the garage and got out of the car and stood there impatiently next to the driver’s door, waiting for the agent to get to her. Standing up made her realize that she really needed to use the ladies’ room. She grimaced as she realized her bladder was quickly filling up, the stinging pressure starting to build within her. “Come on, come ON,” she mumbled under her breath, “Gotta get a damn flight and I need to pee, come on, come ON,” she continued, trying to will the agent to hurry up. She took another gulp of water from her quart bottle and stood there. Five minutes had passed, and finally the agent came over to take care of business. “Hi Ma’am,” he spoke, in an island accent. Jessica stood there, fidgeting badly. She needed to go pee and then go catch her flight or miss it. “Hi, um, look, I’m in kind of a hurry, can you just skip the story and sign me in?” she asked, rather rudely. Her bladder tensed. Jessica had to go pee. This was taking too long, much too long. “While certainly, Miss. I’m oh so sorry. Leave this on the credit card then?” “Um, yea,” she replied. He handed her the rental slip and receipt. “Thank you and have a nice day,” he smiled at her and then gazed down at her skirt. She had already packed her slip so the skirt was more transparent than it usually was. The rental agent could see the outline of her panties under the off–white fabric. He smiled again. Jessica fidgeted again, pausing before she went to the terminal building, stopping to ask a question of another uniformed attendant. “Hey, uh, do you have a ladies room on this level?” she asked, feeling her bladder throb inside of her, the pee pressure slowly building to where she was uncomfortable having to hold it in. “Yes Ma’am, go around the corner and they are on your right. Have a nice day please,” he answered in an accent. Jessica smiled at him and quickly walked off. Twenty minutes until her flight. She wandered around the corner, looking, and then saw the familiar black nameplate that said “Ladies” across from one that said “Men.” Relief. The thought of sitting and relaxing her bladder made her smile for the first time this afternoon. Jessica really needed to pee quite badly, and very quickly, but as she approached, she saw the dreaded yellow sign. “Closed for cleaning. Open in ten minutes.” She swore. Ten minutes was too long. She’d have to use the one in the terminal. Grabbing her things, she headed up the escalator to the terminal building, walking as fast as she could. She was definitely going to have to hurry or risk missing the ten–minute call at the gate. Looking at the monitor overhead, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the gate was close by to security, so she might be able to make it if there wasn’t any line. She rushed off. A few minutes later, stepping on the moving sidewalk, her bladder throbbed. Drinking another long gulp of water from her bottle, as she was prone to do, she realized now that she REALLY needed to urinate before getting on the plane. The familiar waves of pressure were starting to build and Jessica needed to go pee. Badly. Unknown to her, the diuretic was already beginning to work inside of her, her kidneys sending liquid rapidly to her bladder, which was expanding by the minute.
Jessica looked at her watch. 13 minutes. She looked at the security line– just a few people. She had to move. She wistfully glanced at the restrooms over on the other side of the terminal, but knew she’d have to wait. She’d just go when she got on the plane, she thought. There was no way she’d be able to make the gate call and take a pee as well, and she needed to catch this flight. Rushing to security, her hurried pace caught the attention of one of the security agents. “Security Check – Female” was yelled out, and Jessica walked through the metal detector and then an agent took her off to the side. Jessica swore. This was cutting it close. She sat down, her bladder throbbing inside of her. Her legs slightly apart, a few travelers, all men of course, caught a quick glimpse up the struggling young girl’s short skirt. She panicked at the thought of having an accident in the chair– she had seen a classmate pee in school once and the pee had run all over the chair from between her legs. Somehow that vision came into focus as Jessica sat there, taking off her shoes as the agent searched her bags and put her shoes through X–Ray and then quickly ran the detector wand over her. 11 minutes to go. Jessica stood up, her bladder positively yelling at her now, demanding relief. “Thanks,” she mumbled to the security agent and rushed towards gate #3. “Damn, damn, damn I need to go PEEEEE!” she muttered under her breath, amazed at how much more badly she suddenly needed to go urinate now as compared to just ten minutes ago. As usual by habit, she had another drink of water from the quart bottle. It’s half gone now.
Running hurriedly to gate #3, she doesn’t see an agent. Jessica panics and looks around, frantic. “Where the hell is the plane?” “Shit, shit, shit,” she yells, out loud this time. Her bladder throbs inside. Panic overtakes her. Then she hears the overhead speaker– “Jessica ––––” as a people mover roars by her at the moment her last name is being broadcast. She hears the last part of the message “please report to gate 13 for immediate departure.” It had to be her, she thinks, wishing she could have heard the freaking last name. She looks up at the monitor. “Shit, SHIT,” she swears, suddenly realizing her flight leaves from gate 13, not from gate 3. She either didn’t see the “1” in front of the number or something had changed. Rushing along the aisle, her legs moving as fast as she can, Jessica walks down the long series of gates. Regrettably, she passes the ladies’ room on the right, unable to take a break without missing her flight. Her bladder pulses inside of her, she needs to pee SO badly she can’t believe it, but has no choice. “Damn, damn, damn, gotta peeeee,” she mutters to herself, still almost running along the paths. “Just have to go on the plane. Relax, Jessica, relax,” she tells herself. Her name is broadcast again along with the gate number and a more urgent “immediate departure” warning. Gate 10 is coming up. There’s a ladies room across from gate 11. She starts to head over to it, her bladder screaming inside, she needs to pee incredibly, her desperation growing rapidly. Relief is nearby. Then, in horror, she sees the agents start to head down the jet way at gate 13. She won’t be able to use the restroom after all. Panicking, she screams out, “NO, wait, WAIT. WAAAIIIT!!!!” then runs, her bag and purse weighing on her shoulder as she tears across the hallway. The agent turns around and then realizes it must be their last passenger. He takes her ticket and leads her down the jet way. Jessica walks slower now, slightly out of breath and needing to pee so badly she fears she’s about to start peeing in her skirt right then and there. The flight attendant looks at her bag as she enters the plane and tells her it will have to be checked, that there is no more carry on space, that the plane is full. “Shit,” Jessica yells at the attendant. The flight attendant glances at her with burning eyes, not used to being treated like this by passengers. “I’m sorry ma’am, you’ll have to give me the bag.” Jessica looks up at the woman, an attractive dark haired girl, maybe 27 or 28. A nametag pinned to her blue jacket says “Karen.” Another flight attendant, a blonde named “Heidi”, according to her nametag, is talking to the pilot. A third flight attendant, an older woman, is at the back of the airplane. Jessica mumbles under her breath and gives up her bag. The flight attendant puts a luggage tag on it, and then hands it to a ramp agent, who goes off with it. Karen closes the cabin door and secures it and stands behind Jessica in the aisle. She notices the transparency of Jessica’s skirt and smiles. Nobody in the crew knows of Karen’s sexual preferences, and she likes what she sees. The arrogant passenger was very sexy, Karen thought. She’d know how to take care of that attitude, for sure. Karen smiled “professionally” at Jessica as she walked by.
Jessica stares down the aisle. Seats are taken everywhere, people crammed in, luggage stuffed in. She can’t see an empty seat. She needs to pee so violently that she walks slowly and balances herself by holding onto the fabric–covered headrests on the seat tops. She looks around. Nothing. She keeps walking, her bladder surging inside of her. Urine almost bursts from her clenched pee hole, but she holds on. Her muscles somehow control her extreme need to void. She passes mid cabin and sees a group of 6 seats. Three of them face forward and three of them face backward, so the passengers face each other. The window seat facing forward has a piece of yellow tape across it– it’s apparently not operational. The middle seat facing forward is open, and the seat next to that, the aisle, is occupied by a teenage girl, dressed in a pair of very short jean shorts barely covering her young butt. Her skin is soft and white; she’s maybe 18 or 19. Her sister sits across from her in the backward facing aisle seat, wearing tight jeans, low on the hips and barely covering her butt. An attractive dark haired girl, about 22, sits in the middle, dressed in a green khaki blouse and a pair of green khaki slacks that are tight around the waist but loose around the legs. A few tattoos mark the girl’s arms and a pair of chains hangs from her neck. She looks over at Jessica as she takes the middle seat. The window seat facing backward has a young woman, maybe 30 or 35, with a laptop open, feverishly typing onto the keyboard, not paying attention. Jessica sits down, looking back at the bathrooms, needing to go. She puts her purse down, drinks from her bottle of water and then quickly stands up. She decides she needs to use the bathroom NOW, she can’t hold it much longer, and her pee is stinging inside of her. She moves into the aisle and takes about five steps down towards the bathroom at the rear of the plane when another flight attendant stops her. “I’m sorry miss, we’re pulling off from the gate so you’ll have to wait until we’re airborne.” “But I really need to go, it’s kind of an emergency,” Jessica pleads, desperate to use the bathroom. “I’m sorry, it won’t be long dear, as soon as the pilot turns off the fasten seatbelts you can get up and go. Shouldn’t be that long,” and Jessica is forced to sit back down in her seat, denied a bathroom break. The plane moves backward from the gate as the flight attendants start their demonstrations. Jessica sits there, her tummy swollen with a full bladder, needing to urinate so badly. She looks around, trying to take her mind off of her need to pee. She sits with her legs slightly apart, and smoothes the fabric of her skirt out with her hands so she’s not showing as much thigh. She realizes that the skirt was a little bit short for sitting on an airplane in, but there’s nothing she can do now. She fidgets and fastens her seatbelt, the cold metal of the buckle uncomfortable against her swollen tummy. The coarse fabric on the seats itches under her legs and she shifts in the seat slightly. The alternative looking girl across from her gazes at her with a funny look in her eye. The teenage sisters start talking and giggling, an annoyance to Jessica who would prefer to have it quiet while she waits until she can go pee. The lady with the laptop puts the laptop away and snoozes off, unaware of her surroundings. Jessica sits there, feeling trapped, needing to pee so badly and yet unable to move. The plane taxis out towards the runways and waits, in sequence to take off once a few other planes do so first. Jessica feels her bladder swell, its lining extended as her pee fills it. The stinging pain inside of her has grown constantly with every minute, especially with the added stress of the diuretic she accidentally took. Again out of habit, Jessica sits there in agony and sips more water from her bottle. She’s finished 3/4 of the quart now. Her bladder throbs incessantly as the plane starts to roll down the runway. Jessica grips the metal armrests tightly during takeoff and clenches her body. She has to pee so badly she is genuinely afraid of peeing in her skirt and at the same time is anxious when she flies. The combination makes her even more desperate to urinate than ever before. By the time the plane begins to lift off Jessica is feeling the uncomfortable surges of pressure inside of her combined with the stinging sensation of having to pee so badly. The torture of sitting there is amazing, and she bites her lip and pushes her legs together, holding in the ocean of pee inside of her. A few minutes later, only five thousand feet in the air, Jessica had to go to the bathroom so badly that it was even worse than when she peed in her swimsuit as a young teen. Luckily her workouts and running had strengthened her pelvic muscles and she was able to hold it better now than when she was younger, but the pain is intense, the contractions within her agonizing as she struggles to contain the pee inside of her. The minutes pass by slowly as the plane slowly climbs. Jessica is squirming, trying not to pee in her skirt. The pressure is fiercely painful, the waves of pressure building, each one stronger than the last. Her crotch and tummy stings in pain from the held pee and she looks out the window, wondering when the plane will reach an altitude where they can cruise and she can go to the cramped little bathroom and pee before wetting in her clothing. A moment of turbulence hits and Jessica almost pees into her panties, the fabric clinging to her most private area, but somehow she grips the armchair as tightly as she is gripping her bladder muscles and doesn’t leak. The pain is weakening her, she is so incredibly desperate for relief she can’t bear dealing with the constant stinging pain. The plane continues slowly climbing. Jessica sits there, in misery, her body now starting to spasm and then twitch. She needs to pee so badly she knows it’s only a matter of time before she’ll have an accident. She tries so hard to hold on, clutching the armrests harder; concentrating on her muscles, and barely holds her pee in. The pain grows and the pressure spreads within her tortured body. Her need to pee is extreme now, greater than it ever has been in her entire life. She is on the verge of having an accident, but the “fasten seat belt” sign is still on. Jessica looks around in desperation, her head whipping towards the back of the cabin, then the front. She needs to pee immediately. She can’t hold it much longer. “Damn, damn, damn, I need to pee,” she once again proclaims under her breath. A strange voice interrupts Jessica’s concentration: “Wow, do you like have to go to the bathroom bad or something?” giggles the girl across from the aisle, the sister of the girl sitting next to her. She has noticed Jessica fidgeting and tapping her foot and it’s now obvious to the passengers in that row that Jessica is struggling to maintain her dignity, trying to keep from urinating into her clothes as she sits there, trapped. “Um, yea,” Jessica mumbles, unable to speak clearly. She needs to pee SO BAD. The girl giggles again. Minutes pass, the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign still glowing, the beige plastic faded to a dirty yellow above the seats. The three flight attendants are nowhere to be seen. Jessica fights another rushing surge, battling with all of her might, the incredible pain of her swollen bladder. She can’t sit still, her body convulsing in pain as her need increases. The dark haired girl sitting across from her looks up from her magazine and stares. She smiles and then looks away. Jessica doesn’t notice her staring. The woman at the window is napping still, her laptop stowed after they started to takeoff. The two sisters are giggling– each stealing glances at Jessica as best they can, thinking that this girl sitting near them is about to have a pee accident. More minutes pass, and Jessica waits, her body racked with torture, her need to pee still growing. The stinging pain expands, the waves of pressure almost constant, the violent throbbing so incessant Jessica can barely concentrate on breathing. Sweat beads on her neck, her legs are so tense that her quad muscles are like bricks. Her bladder still fills, the day’s water and the diuretic wreaking havoc with the young woman. A surge. A violent throbbing sensation overcomes Jessica, one she can barely fight off. The pain screams inside of her, her pee on the very edge of her pee hole, dying to escape. She can’t take it, she knows it’s about to come out, she HAS to use the bathroom RIGHT NOW or she’ll be peeing into her skirt. She stands up, her bladder almost exploding as she does. She heads quickly down the aisle, stumbling. Her pee rushes to the edge of her pee hole, her urethra tortured. She’s almost to the bathroom and her bladder now realizes that relief is near, so the pressure expands incredibly, she’s about to pee on herself. She almost trips over this old man’s outstretched foot. Her pee rushes to the edge of control, she only manages to contain the spurt by a little bit. Somehow she holds on. She reaches the back galley. The bathroom door is closed. She reaches for it, urine almost releasing from her tormented body. Karen, the flight attendant, stops her. “I’m sorry Ma’am, the restrooms are not available until we reach cruising altitude. Please return to your seat until the fasten seat belt sign is turned off.” Jessica’s eyes grow wild. “But please, PLEASE, this is an emergency, I really need to go pee!!!” she begs. “Ma’am, please return to your seat. It’s just a few more minutes.” Jessica almost starts crying, the pee inside of her violently desiring release. She turns around with a tear running down her cheek. She’s 26 years old and somebody has told her she couldn’t use the bathroom, just like a child in school. She walks gingerly up the aisle, the pee ravaging her muscular body. She gets to her row and sits down in her seat, dejected. “What, they didn’t let you go pee?” the girl sitting next to her says? “No,” Jessica mumbles, fastening the chrome buckle on the seat belt and feeling the pressure expand. She almost cries, she needs to urinate so badly. “Wow, that sucks,” says the girl who is sitting next to her, “cause I really need to go too!!” The girl then sits forward, her legs jammed together. The girl’s sister starts laughing, saying “my sister’s gonna pee her pants, my sister’s gonna pee her pants!” “Shut UP,” the desperate girl screams, digging her hands deeper between her shorts, about to pee all over herself. “Ha, ha! I’m sitting in a row with two girls who are going to pee themselves,” the teasing sister yells while her desperate sibling grimaces in pain. The struggling teenager next to Jessica is now obviously in complete agony as her 18 year old bladder fills beyond the limit with pee, and she struggles to hold it back, whimpering and moaning in desperation as she sits there in agony. Jessica tries to ignore the teasing of the other sister, but it makes her realize that she needs to pee even worse. She thinks of what could happen if she can’t make it to the bathroom in time and panics. She realizes she HAS to pee. She sits there, leaning slightly forward now, her knees together, one hand on the armrest, one hand pressing her thighs together. The pressure screams inside of her. The girl sitting next to her moans louder, and looks briefly at her younger sister in panic, then grimaces, twisting around in her seat in absolute pee desperation pain. A few minutes pass and then the plane appears to have leveled off. Jessica looks wistfully at the “Fasten Seat Belts” sign above, willing it to go off. “Please, please, please, oh GOD, please turn off,” she begs silently, sitting there in the utmost desperation. She knows she’ll have to go first, there is no way she can hold her pee while the other girl pees in front of her. She sits there, waiting, the pressure inside stinging, but the seat belt sign stays lit. Jessica can barely hold back, and neither can the girl next to her. Suddenly the girl next to her rapidly unfastens her seatbelt and screams, “I can’t wait, oh damn, I can’t wait. Shit…” and rushes down the aisle, walking quickly, her teenage bladder about to explode. Jessica watches with horror as she gets up with a four–inch wet spot on the bottom back of her short shorts. The girl rushes down the aisle, her bladder screaming inside of her, and halfway down the aisle a jet of pee bursts from her pee hole which she quickly clamps off, but not before the crotch of her blue jean short shorts has an even bigger wet spot. She panics and walks faster, her pee about to explode again and thankfully, nobody stops her from entering the ladies’ room. Jessica looks back in time to see the girl rush in. She waits for a minute, thinking she can go relieve the incredible torture as soon as the teenager comes back. Inside the restroom, the 18–year–old teenager hurriedly locks the door behind her as another uncontrolled burst of pee shoots out from her tortured body, again spraying into the fabric of her panties and shorts, flooding her clothes for a brief moment. Somehow she stops the flow, but she’s starting to cry, the pressure is too great. She quickly yanks down her shorts, and before she can even pull her panties down to her knees, body spasms force her to start urinating uncontrollably. The pee streams into her underwear due to the motion of trying to remove her clothes. She can’t stop it this time, so she hurriedly sits down on the cold toilet seat and pees through her panties, the hot flowing urine flooding the cotton fabric, streaming into the steel basin of the toilet. The hot pee sizzles as it leaves the girl’s tense body, her underwear now soaking wet as she urinates into and through them. Crying in embarrassment, she sits there, pee streaming out of her, wondering what she is going to do. Within a minute, she finishes and sheepishly removes her underwear. She throws her stained and soaked panties into the garbage container beneath the sink and examines her shorts, seeing the clearly obvious pee spot where her two short bursts of pee sprayed into them. Taking a towel, she tries to dry off the wet spots, then pulls up her shorts with the wet edges noticeable against her butt, and washes her hands. Realizing she has no choice but to walk back, even though she has quite obviously started to pee into her shorts before she made it to the bathroom, she walks out the door, still embarrassed but glad she managed to go before she had a complete accident in her shorts. She knew it was close, so close. Having to sit on the toilet peeing into her own panties meant she made it by only a few seconds. Better to have thrown away a pair of panties instead of peeing into your shorts and having everybody know, she thinks to herself. Amazingly for her sake, only a few people notice the dark wet mark on her shorts but nobody really realizes what had happened. As she gets back to her row, Jessica looks up at her and realizes that it’s apparently okay to go to the bathroom now, even though the fasten seat belts sign is still illuminated above her. She unclasps her seatbelt with her bladder screaming. Standing up, the sister who just had a partial accident herself purposely trips Jessica. Jessica stumbles, grasps the armrest of the seat across from her, her forearm going in front of the guy’s arm. She gasps as the momentary trip caused her to briefly lose control. She straightens herself up right again while very quickly peeing a few spurts into her panties. She panics at the feel of the slight wetness in her panties. She starts down the aisle, walking quickly but awkwardly as her bladder almost explodes. The pressure peaks and kicks the intensity beyond extreme. The plane encounters a burst of turbulence. Jessica grabs the seat next to her as her bladder violently throbs. She uncontrollably pees into her panties for one second. The wetness spreads. She panics, and then walks faster. Another spot of turbulence hits the plane. Jessica’s bladder responds again and she starts to urinate. She pees for four seconds into her clothes this time before her incredibly well toned runner’s muscles clench the flow. A small trickle of warm pee runs down her thigh and she feels the wetness, her face now red with embarrassment. She’s barely able to contain the rest of her pee inside– she’s dying. She gets near the rear galley. The flight attendant, Karen, stands up. Jessica stands there, the lavatory blocked. She squirms as another burst of pee escapes her tortured urethra, causing her to pee into her skirt for another two seconds. A few droplets fall between her legs onto the industrial carpet of the airplane. Karen stares her down. “I’m sorry Miss, but as I told you, you can’t use the restrooms until the fasten seat belt sign goes off. PLEASE go back to your seat now, we’re experiencing turbulence,” which is followed by another short burst of turbulence. Jessica tries to control herself as a short spurt again bursts, causing a trickle to run down her other thigh. She’s losing control. She begs to the flight attendant. “Please, PLEASE, PLEASE, I’m starting to wet myself, I really can’t hold it, please, oh God…” Jessica pauses. Another small burst escapes while pee trickles down her tense thigh. “Oh God, oh God, no,” she’s barely able to speak. “I need to go pee. Please, please I need to use the bathroom NOW, OH GOD!!! PLEASE!!!” she cries out, loudly, tears streaming. “Ma’am. NO. That’s it. Per federal regulations, I’m classifying you as an unruly passenger. Heidi? Heidi, please help me escort this passenger back to her seat.” She motions to the other flight attendant. Heidi and Karen forcefully turn Jessica around and lead her to her seat. Karen notices the wet streak marks on Jessica’s gorgeous, muscular thighs and smiles. Jessica stops mid cabin and begs. “NO, NOOO, NOOOOO, I’m really having an accident, please, PLEASE don’t do this to me, please, PLEASE, NOOOOOOOO,” she screams, all the passengers now watching what’s happening. Karen refuses, pushing on Jessica’s shoulders to turn her around facing back towards her row. Jessica again loses control, a two second burst of pee rushes out of her. She screams, “NOOOO, oh God NOOO, please NOOOOOOOO, oh God, OH GODDDD, please oh God, GODDDD, oh please,” her voice high pitched, loud and strident with fear. Karen watches, from behind and sees the pee stream down through her panties onto the floor of the airplane. Karen’s own nipples grow taut. The two flight attendants lead Jessica, still screaming and begging in protest, to her seat. Karen reaches into her apron and pulls out four plastic tie handcuff type devices. Heidi forces Jessica into her seat, after asking the teenage girl next to her to move momentarily. Jessica tries to resist, squirming, but the two flight attendants force her. The cabin is all looking at the commotion. Jessica pees into her skirt again, barely able to stop it, her screams louder and her desperation at a peak. All of the passengers in the middle and rear of the aircraft are watching while talking and trying to figure out what is happening. Karen clasps Jessica’s wrists to the armrests with the plastic ties, locks them, and then forces Jessica’s legs apart and fastens her ankles to the bottom of the seat structure. Karen glances up Jessica’s short skirt, now slightly bunched near her waist. She clearly sees the wetness in Jessica’s white panties. The pee stain suddenly spreading as Jessica loses control again. Jessica struggles against the restraints, screaming again. “NO, please, NO, I need to use the bathroom, NOOOOO,” her voice trailing off as she begins to get hoarse, unable to scream any longer. She starts to cry uncontrollably with her voice rasping and breaking down. Losing control causes her to gush into her seat again as pee starts to puddle between Jessica’s open thighs. Karen takes one last glance, her nipples tense, her own womanhood excited. Karen realizes she too needs to use the bathroom, but nowhere near as badly as her struggling, arrogant passenger. Karen stands up, walking with Heidi back to the galley. Jessica sits there, unable to move, unable to clench her legs together. Her skirt is in disarray, pulled halfway up her thighs. Her wet panties are on clear display for anyone who walks by to see. The young teenager looks in shock at Jessica. The dark haired girl across stares at Jessica, looking directly as her panties in between her spread legs. The woman in the corner seat is soundly asleep, not aware of a thing. Jessica looks up, helplessly, unable to talk, unable to move. Restrained. Trapped. She’s managed to stop crying, but the pressure inside torments her again. She’s still trying to hold herself together. The pain increases. She can barely contain it any longer, again starting to cry uncontrollably with the stinging pressure, her bladder throbbing violently, and muscles weakening. Above her, the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign finally blinks off. Jessica looks up, begging to God in her raspy voice, and notices the sign, then tries to scream, but her vocal chords are gone so she’s silent, as the pain mounts in her body. The teenager beside her giggles before reaching over and pressing against Jessica’s tummy, tickling her. Jessica screams, beginning to uncontrollably pee into her skirt, her bladder pulsating beyond her control. The other girl laughs and presses again. Jessica, unable to fight back is totally trapped in her seat. Pee screams out and she can’t stop the flow. She watches the aisle as other passengers rush toward the back of the plane, desperate to relieve their own swollen bladders. Jessica sits there in shame, trapped, tortured inside, shaking but unable to conceal anything. She loses control completely while the girls in her row giggle and laugh loudly. Pee stream after pee stream explode from her body, her panties flooding with hot urine, her slightly transparent Express skirt soaking with pee between her legs. She sits in a puddle of her own hot pee that grows, making a puddle spreading in a circle underneath her while she is trapped in the seat. The seat itself, treated with fabric protector, doesn’t absorb much of it. Her pee puddle leaks, with trickles of pee dropping off the seat both in the front and back. Jessica looks in shock, unable to do anything about it. The girl across form her stares, her eyes transfixed on the pee gushing out of Jessica’s panties and the puddle growing between her legs, the sizzling noise barely audible over the rushing noise of the jet engines. Karen walks by on the way to the front galley and looks. She stares. She catches a glimpse of the wetting passenger and smiles as Jessica looks up at her with pleading, begging eyes. Karen walks on, not responding, letting the unruly passenger suffer as Jessica, dejected, sits there with her head down in shame. Her body is limp; her brown hair messy with sweat, and the pee is still exploding out of her tortured body. Pee drips everywhere before Jessica’s bladder finally empties. She cries softly in despair, sitting there in her peed in skirt, with everyone now knowing. Her hoarse gasps and sobs fill the air, she’s so tormented that she has a nervous breakdown but is still unable to escape from her seat. She shakes uncontrollably and panics, the wet puddle between her legs still obvious to all. She cries louder, tears streaming down her cheeks, her nose runny, she sobs at the injustice of having to wet herself in front of everyone, trapped in her seat.
The dark haired girl gets up, mentioning that she needs to pee badly, and heads to the back of the plane. She waits in line behind a red headed teenager standing with her mother, both looking desperate and on the verge of wetting themselves. Behind her, two business women, dressed in similar business attire, expensive blue slacks, blue jackets and white blouses, wait behind her. The first woman behind her is in her early 30’s, slender, with dark hair tied professionally behind her in a bun. The woman’s companion is younger, maybe 25, blonde, average build, and wearing her hair loose. The mother enters the lavatory while the red head stands there and suddenly grabs herself, bending over with the need to urinate apparently extreme. The look of desperation is clear in her eyes; she is holding back the water she drank while waiting at the gate. Inside the bathroom, her mother, still attractive at 37, pees strongly into the toilet, her bladder relaxing, and her muscles soothed as she urinates. Outside, her daughter is on the edge, about to urinate into her tight low rise jeans, but doubled over, she holds on. The dark haired girl paces nervously, her bladder need strong, the pressure mounting. The dark haired businesswoman behind her is pacing, her body racked with pain. Of everyone in the line, she has to pee the worst, her bladder positively screaming. “Damn, I need to go!!” the woman explains to her companion, a look of terror on her face. “Well, you shouldn’t have had 3 beers before we took off, you know!” her partner laughs back. “I don’t know if I can hold it,” the other woman says, starting to bend over. “It’s only a few people in line, just calm down,” the blonde woman replies, laughing at her companions incredible desperation. The dark haired girl hears the conversation and her own need to pee increases. The mother exits the lavatory and the teenager rushes in, barely closing the door before rapidly pulling down her tight jeans. Her panties down by her ankles, pee explodes out of her like a fire hydrant, having barely avoided an embarrassing accident. The pee stream hisses and sizzles as it exits her strained body. She sighs, thankful that she made it in time. 18 years old was too old to be wetting her pants, she thought. A minute later, she finishes with a smile on her face. Outside, the dark haired girl paces, needing to go. The businesswoman is doubled over, almost crying. She hadn’t needed to pee this badly since wetting her catholic girl’s school uniform during the SAT tests in high school, her bladder violent inside of her. She looks up and there’s only one person in front. “Thank God,” she thinks, digging her hands between her legs. The red headed teen exits. The line moves up. At the back of the line, behind the blonde business woman, a plain but somehow attractive and very athletic looking girl with a “Freshman Soccer” sweatshirt bearing her college logo gets in line. She looks wistfully at the line, and clasps her legs together; her green nylon soccer shorts barely covering a slightly bulging athletic rear held tight between her thighs. The pattern of a pair of bikini panties is visible through the tight, thin fabric. Waking up from her nap, she had instantly realized that the two quarts of water she had drank before the flight had made their way to her bladder. She stood there, realizing how incredibly desperate she was to go pee. The line seemed so long to her. She looks back over her shoulder towards the front of the plane and sees the front lavatory is occupied. She waits, her legs clenched, the pressure building. She’s wearing only her socks, her shoes off, still under her seat. She looks up at the top of the aircraft and sees how the plastic parts fit together. She fights the surging pressure inside of her. She needs to pee SO badly. As the red head exited, the dark haired girl entered the bathroom. The businesswoman was doubled over, starting to really panic, her bladder on the verge of exploding into her business slacks. Her lace panties clung to her enlarged womanhood, the need to urinate reaching unstoppable proportions. Inside the lavatory, the dark haired girl stood there with a smile on her face. Her ear was pressed to the door, trying to hear what was going on over the noise of the jet. Outside, the business woman waited, her pee rushing to the edge of her pee hole, about to escape unwillingly into the world, her clothing, embarrassing her. She could barely hold on. Inside, the dark haired girl turned around to the toilet and put the cover down. Sitting on the cover, she relaxed even while still needing to go the bathroom quite badly. She sat there, smiling, her legs apart, her green khaki slacks tight against her crotch and she waited. A few minutes later the businesswoman shrieked in panic as a surge of pressure overcame her. A burst of pee thrashed out of her clenched body and soaked her panties, and a small dark stain was visible on her pants. She tensed, her body racked in desperation, and banged on the lavatory door loudly. “Hurry UP, oh God, HURRY UP, I’m about to have a stupid ACCIDENT out here!” she yelled at the girl inside. The dark haired girl heard this and waited. “OH GOD, PLEASE HURRY UP,” the woman begged, knocking again, another spurt of pee escaping. The stain spread, her left thigh now wet about halfway down the leg towards the knee. The dark haired girl sat still, smiling, as her nipples grew taut. Her own bladder throbbed incessantly to go. Then the plane lurched in the sky, hitting a bump of turbulence. The dark haired girl grabbed the handrail and giggled. The businesswoman almost fell and then peed for another few seconds into her slacks. The wet stain spread as she lost control. The college girl with the soccer sweatshirt grimaced, her bladder screaming inside from another moment of turbulence. Up in the middle of the aircraft, Jessica sat there, grasping the handrails, as her bladder convulsed. Pee once again shot out of her body, rewetting her skirt, making the puddle grow once again. She cried, still trapped, she could do nothing about it. Inside the lavatory, the dark haired girl spread her legs, sitting on the metal lid of the toilet, fully clothed, and relaxed her bladder. Pee exploded out of her pee hole, soaking her panties, the crotch of her green khaki pants tight against her womanhood darkening immediately as pee rushed through the fabric. She sat there, on the toilet cover, peeing into her pants, on purpose! She smiled as she felt the pleasurable warmth spreading through her clothes, the familiar feeling of spreading hot pee in her clothes. She touched herself, felt the pee cascading through her pants, her fingers damp with her own hot urine. She licked her fingers, tasting her own salty nectar, smiling. Looking up, she saw the “Fasten Seat Belts” sign flicker on as the plane bumped from turbulence once again. Outside, the businesswoman panicked, knowing she probably couldn’t make it. The dark haired girl finished peeing, quickly touched herself and then laughed, opening the door, obviously having peed into her pants, and mumbled something about how she couldn’t hold it, she didn’t know what to do, and how embarrassed she was as she walked back to her seat. The pee wetness was seeping down the legs of her pants as she walked, her butt soaked. The businesswoman glanced inside at the lavatory and saw pee on the seat of the metal toilet. The flight attendant pulled her back, telling her that she’d have to go back to her seat. She looked up in panic as her body exploded. Pee raged from her 30–year–old body, soaking her business slacks immediately, with both inner thighs glistening wet within seconds from urinating uncontrollably. She screamed, and turned around to look for her companion, embarrassed and ashamed. Her companion was already on the way to her seat. She needed to go too, but wasn’t in an emergency. The college soccer girl started to panic, but held her pee in and returned to her seat, desperate and in agony. The soaked businesswoman sheepishly returned to hers, the wetness in her thighs obvious to all that saw her walk by. The plane dropped and then quickly rose, the turbulence striking again. Karen sat down in the jump seat at the rear of the plane, her own bladder throbbing now, but excited at what she was seeing. The dark haired girl had returned to her row. The two sisters almost laughed out loud when they saw her with pee stains and glistening wetness in her slacks. She looked sheepishly at them as she sat down and looked at Jessica, her legs still apart, pee wetness and a small puddle between her legs. Jessica looked up, and the dark haired girl sat there with her legs apart and emptied the rest of her bladder right there while smiling. “I’m sorry, I had to go so bad and then they made us go back right as I was about to go pee.” Jessica panicked. She had never seen adults wet themselves before, and didn’t know what to say. Her own body was still sitting in an uncomfortable puddle of pee, which horrified her, yet she was still able to feel sorry for the dark haired girl. She had no way of realizing that the girl had peed herself on purpose while enjoying the sight of the other woman wetting herself.
A few minutes later, the turbulence had subsided and the flight was calmer. Near the back of the plane, Heidi was cleaning up the mess in the lavatory caused by the dark haired girl’s accident. The businesswoman sat in shame, strapped in, her clothes soaked with pee. A few rows up, the college soccer freshman sat in her window seat with her legs tucked beneath her, under a burgundy airline blanket. Staring out the window, facing away from the other passengers, she was crying. The flight attendant rolls by with the beverage cart, asking her what she’d like to drink. “Uh, nothing,” she mutters, holding back her tears. “Are you sure?” she’s asked. “Oh, a coke,” the girl orders, and a can of coke is passed over. The girl tugs on her blanket, tears returning, trickling down her cheeks. A shy girl by nature, she is ashamed of herself, embarrassed. Under the airline blanket, the girl’s bladder has just started exploding, releasing surging hot pee streams one after another into her panties and soaking the green nylon soccer shorts. Pee silently floods the seat as the flight attendant walks by. The girl held herself and cuddled in shame, sitting in her own hot urine, covered by the blanket so nobody could see. As she went ahead and peed uncontrollably into her shorts, she cried louder, ashamed, broken. She had always had problems with her bladder, often peeing into her shorts during halftime of games in desperation, but she could always cover that by pretending she was sweating. She didn’t know how she’d get out of this– all of her clothes were below in the luggage hold. After she finally stopped urinating into her shorts almost a minute later, the pee puddle she lay in grew colder and she shivered under the protection of the blanket. She couldn’t lift the blanket or everyone would know she just went into her soccer shorts in her seat. She clutched the blanket tighter, wishing the flight was over and she was had some fresh clothes. She drank her coke in despair while trying to appear normal, reading the in–flight magazine while her pee soaked panties and shorts chafed her muscular legs. She tried to wipe away the tears but they returned quickly as her shame was too much to handle.
An hour or so later, things in the cabin had calmed down. Jessica still sat in utter despair and embarrassment with her legs wide open. Passengers walking by could clearly see the dark pubic mound under her pee soaked panties. Tear marks were also visible, as she had been crying most of the flight. The horror of the day was too much for the graduate student. She sat, trapped in shame. The college girl was crying softly into her blanket, still damp from her pee. Her shorts were sticky and uncomfortable as she squirmed in them, unable to get comfortable. The businesswoman was sitting there in her pee soaked clothes as well, feeling her bladder throb once again and hoping she could hold it until they landed. Then, there was the good news. “Good afternoon Ladies and Gentleman, this is your pilot speaking. We’ve been cleared for landing and we’re about to begin our descent. We’ve enjoyed having you aboard, and we thank you for flying with us. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for arrival.” The speech came over the loudspeaker. Karen and Heidi were in the back of the plane. Heidi looked tired, and Karen needed to use the restroom, the pee having built up in her bladder the entire flight. The other flight attendant in the front of the plane sat in her jump seat, and after thirty minutes, the plane was on the ground, taxiing towards the gate. At the gate, the “Fasten Seats Belt” sign clicked off as the passengers all stood up, except for Jessica, still trapped in her seat. Passenger after passenger walked by her, noticing how high the girls skirt was pulled up and seeing the obvious wetness from her many accidents. A few glanced back to look at her obviously soaked panties, transparent from the wetness, the dark thatch of pubic hair clearly visible.
The businesswoman sheepishly walked down the aisle, her companion behind her. The girl in the soccer sweatshirt waited, ashamed now, with her blanket long since stowed away. As she stood there waiting, she knew everyone could see that she had peed into her shorts, the dark stain still obvious against the green fabric. Again, her bladder throbbed, the coke having rapidly made its way to her weakened organ, and she started crying softly. Unable to contain the pressure once again, pee started to trickle down her muscular legs, unable to stem the tide. At first the pee just trickled out but soon it was too much, causing her to flood her shorts again. The stream grew stronger as it burst through her pee hole into her clothes. 19–years–old and a star soccer player for her team, she was again urinating into her shorts in this crowded airplane, but this time the passengers crammed in behind her clearly saw the rivers of pee running down her legs, soaking her socks and shoes before puddling onto the ground. The person right behind her gasped as she saw the girl’s soaked shorts and shiny pee stream running down her bare legs just in front of her in the cramped aisle. Embarrassed, the girl wished that the line would move quicker. She could go get her luggage and then change, before her parents would meet her. She didn’t want to have them see her soaking wet. Not like this. This was horrendously embarrassing! Finally the line started to move. The girl squished from the pee that had flooded into her shoes while leaving a trail of pee marks on the industrial strength carpet of the airplane floor. Tears continued to flow down her smooth cheeks.
After all the passengers had finally disembarked, Jessica remained sitting there, looking around. Karen was the last attendant on the plane. Her bladder violently throbbing, she was about to pee into her own flight attendant uniform. She walked over to Jessica and kneeled down beside her– just the two of them, all alone. She looked at Jessica, then her panties, the wetness, and the visible pubic hair. Jessica begs for something to drink, as her is throat parched. Karen pulls out a can of coke, which Jessica downs. She looks helplessly up at Karen, begging to be untied. “Please, I didn’t mean to, honest,” she begs, tears returning to her eyes. “Please, also, oh God, I need to use the bathroom again!!” Jessica begs with her bladder once again throbbing in pain from the need to pee again. Karen smiles at her, but does nothing. Jessica begs her again. “OH God, PLEASE untie me, I’m tired of peeing myself,” she wails, her words slurring as she starts to cry. Karen crouches there, her eyes right up Jessica’s soaked skirt, as Jessica looks at her with swollen eyes, crying uncontrollably. “Pee right now,” Karen commands as Jessica tries to hold it back, but fails. Her weakened muscles are completely shot. As the flight attendant watches from a few feet away, Jessica uncontrollably pees into her skirt, panties again becoming soaking wet as she urinates into them, the spray of pee clearly audible as it hisses out. Karen watches and feels her nipples tense, a flush coming over her face. She has to pee herself quite badly, not haven gone on the flight, and she watches in awe as Jessica wets herself once again right in front of her. Karen pats the girl’s thing as Jessica finally stops going, and then quickly withdraws her hand while smiling. Jessica looked downtrodden and was out of energy. The embarrassment of the flight had taken the fight out of the woman. Karen talked softly, but firmly: “Okay. Here’s how it goes. You can forget what just happened, and I’ll untie you and let you go your way. No formal complaints, No police. Or you can complain, and I’ll bring the FBI in and they’ll arrest you. It will be my word against your word, and I have witnesses saying you weren’t following my orders. That won’t be accepted. And, you know, you have to understand that the prisons in this city are full of dykes, and very rough ones. You won’t last the night. It’s your choice.” She looked firmly at Jessica, who was crying with this final shame. “Well?” Karen asked. “Just untie me, please, I won’t say anything.” Jessica mumbled. “What was that answer?” Karen asked. Jessica pleaded. “OH GOD, OK, just please, please untie me,” before returning to bawling again, broken. Karen did so, and led Jessica out to the front of the plane, walking behind her. Jessica’s skirt was totally transparent, her panties clearly visible through the back, clinging to her soaked butt. Karen quickly stroked the back of Jessica’s soaked skirt, straightening it out, feeling the wetness against the girl’s firm ass. Jessica gasped as Karen licked her fingers, tasting the passengers pee on her hands. While Jessica walked, pee dripped down her legs with each step. Moments later, she emerged from the plane and tried to cover her face, but everybody had been keeping a curious eye out for the girl who had wet her skirt in the plane. Jessica walked quickly in total shame, headed to the nearest bathroom, trying to figure out what to do. The bathroom was crowded with no stalls available. She left quickly after seeing two security officers in it. She didn’t know what to do. She saw the dark haired girl from the plane standing there, now wearing a clean pair of low–rise jeans. She smiled at Jessica. Jessica partially smiled back while trying to avoid eye contact with anybody. The dark haired girl shrugged and walked away. Jessica hurried down to the baggage carousel, aware that everyone was looking at her and could see what had happened. Looking up, she saw the red letters on the electronic display and found the carousel with her flight’s luggage. The two sisters were there and laughed when they saw Jessica walk by. Jessica grew even redder with embarrassment. The soccer star stood there with her wet shorts noticeable to everyone. Jessica looked at her in amazement, shocked that someone else had peed her pants on the flight.
She looked for her luggage. After fifteen minutes, it still wasn’t anywhere to be found. An old suitcase was the only thing going around and around on the carousel. The college soccer girl and Jessica were the only ones standing there, both panicking. “Oh no. NOOOO,” Jessica screamed. “What,” the shy soccer girl asked. “My luggage. It’s not on the plane!” The soccer girl, not having traveled much, panicked. Both girls had peed themselves on the flight and were obviously soaked, and now their luggage was nowhere to be found! An agent walked over and asked if he could help them. The panicking girls gave him their luggage receipts then followed him over to the little booth where he sat. Yet more onlookers gazed at the two girls, one in a soaked see through skirt and the other in a pair of soaked green nylon soccer shorts, who had their soaked garments clinging to their embarrassed bodies. A few minutes on the computer and the agent turned to them with a glum look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, girls, but your luggage seems to be on another flight. It seems your bags are on their way to LA. Wait, I’m sorry…” he paused, and pointed to the soccer girl. “Your bags are on their way to LA.” He looks over at Jessica. “I’m sorry miss, but we don’t have any record of your luggage in our system.” Jessica screams and then almost faints. Her luggage is lost and she has nothing with her. She peed into her skirt multiple times in view of an airplane full of people, an entire terminal has seen her soaking panties through her wet transparent skirt, and now she has nothing with her. No clothes. Nothing. She panics, and suddenly realizes that her purse was in the bag too, leaving her with no money and no identification. She starts to sob, breaking down. The college girl also starts to cry, realizing she’ll have to go meet her parents with her soaked shorts on. They both walk away, bonding together in mutual embarrassment, when the dark haired girl walks by. “What happened, what’s a matter?” she asks them. They both tell their story.
“Look. I’m probably not your size exactly, but come over to the ladies’ room with me and you can have a couple pairs of my pants. You don’t need to be walking around in wet clothes, okay? Trust me, I know how it feels!” The two girls look at the dark haired girl as if she was an angel. At least their dignity will be preserved. They both agree. The three girls run into the little used ladies’ room on the luggage level. The room is empty. “Ok guys, take off your pants,” she says to the two girls. The dark haired girl starts unlocking her luggage, and rummaging through it as both Jessica and the soccer star take off their clothes. Jessica stands there, in her clinging blouse and a pair of soaked, totally transparent panties. Her pubic mound is fully displayed, the darkness evident where her most private parts reside. The soaking of the pee is still obvious in her underwear. She hands her skirt to the dark haired girl, who puts it in a plastic bag and lays it on her own bag. The soccer girl sheepishly takes off her soaked green soccer shorts, and stands there in her sweatshirt and a pair of soaked light pink panties. Her mound, in all its embarrassed glory, is also exposed from the transparent wetness. She hands the dark haired girl the shorts. “What size are you,” the girl asks the soccer girl. “Um, I’m usually a 7,” she replies, standing nervously with nothing much on, very exposed. “Ok. And you?” she points to Jessica. “Probably a 5,” she replies. “Good. Well, I guess I have to tell you this. Today just isn’t your day. You see, I like seeing other girls pee in their clothing! Actually, my partner and I do it all the time. So, like, fuck you both, you arrogant little whores, I’m out of here. Have a bad day!” The two other girls look in shock, and the dark haired girl grabs her bag with an evil laugh, taking the pee soaked girls’ skirt and shorts and runs out the door and into a taxi!
The two girls panic, both undressed, exposed, and unable to believe what has just happened. They start to cry and hug each other out of misery, unable to comprehend the mean nature of the girl who just stole their only clothes. They cry uncontrollably, standing in the cold restroom in their soaking wet panties, both of their most private parts visible clearly to the world through the soaked thin, clingy fabric, shocked at the cruelty of the other girl.
Upstairs, at the airport lounge, Karen sits nervously at the bar. Her bladder is throbbing incessantly; she hasn’t peed in many hours. She sits alone and orders a large glass of water and a beer. Looking around, trying to contain her urine, she downs both quickly. Then she orders a few Long Island iced teas and a coffee. Struggling to contain her pee, she contemplates ordering another round when she hears the announcement over the intercom. “Attention all passengers. There has been a security breach and all passengers are requested to exit the building to the short term parking garage. I repeat, all passengers have been requested, by federal law, to exit the building. All passengers who are flying will need to be prescreened.” Karen sits up, in amazement. Her pee throbbing inside of her, she rushes out to join the mob. Luckily she is in the public area near the front of the airport, not near the gates where the rush starts. Walking quickly down the stairs, past the luggage carousels, she heads towards the ground transportation zone. Looking outside, she sees the two girls from her flight, Jessica, and the soccer girl, both without any bottoms. Jessica and the girl stand there trying to get out, half naked, with their wet panties visible for the world to see. News cameramen are surrounding the terminal, and more than one newspaper photographer has seen the two soaking wet girls and snuck a picture of them. Jessica stands there in absolute horror with her new companion, who is trying to find her parents. Both girls are being stared at as everybody sees their matted pubic hair through their pee soaked wet and transparent underwear. The shame both girls feel is immense, this is easily the worst day of both of their lives. Both girls are crying uncontrollably. The shy soccer player chirps like a wounded bird in embarrassment, her face red and shiny with tears as Jessica sobs loudly, both so embarrassed they wished they could die.
At the ground transportation pick up area, Karen, her bladder now reaching emergency fullness, walks onto the hotel shuttle bus, her need to pee so great she is about to urinate into her flight attendant’s uniform. She grasps the chrome hold rail as she sits down on one of the vinyl benches inside the crowded bus. The bus lurches forward, Karen almost starts to pee into her pantyhose. Her dark blue skirt is snug against her throbbing tummy, her bladder violently screaming inside. A few miles outside the airport, a yellow taxi heads towards the downtown area that has a young dark haired girl sitting in the rear. The girl relaxes back, her bag next to her, and she starts to urinate into her tight blue jeans as she reaches into her bag and feels the damp fabric of the two girls’ clothes she took earlier. The driver never realizes what is happening, never seeing the spreading pee puddle in the back of his cab. The girl caresses the wet clothing she took from the two passengers as pee floods out of her into her jeans. She smiles, a pleasurable feeling overcoming her once again.
Karen’s bus rounds a few bends, her bladder pulsating strongly, her urine burning inside of her. The bus stops, screeching from worn brakes; the automatic door of the van hisses, air escaping loudly from the hydraulics, and slowly opens. Karen awaits, in agony, her swollen bladder screaming at her, as the crowds of other passengers disembark the van. Struggling, Karen disembarks from the van, trying to hold her extremely urgent pee inside of her as she heads to check in to the hotel. Back at the airport, Jessica and the soccer girl are whisked away by airport security for the commotion they were causing, taken to a more private area and questioned as they stand there, having just peed into their panties in fright in front of the mob of people, pee streams making marks on their naked thighs in the airport. Both girls are still crying uncontrollably, barely able to speak between the sobbing. The security officer can barely understand them as they stand there, dripping wet in their underwear. He smiles as he checks both of them out, their firm bodies on full display in their pee soaked clothing for him to see. At the hotel, Karen is struggling towards the clerk to check in for the night.
*****
The sun arose the next morning, the sky clear and the winds calm. Off in the distance the sound of the planes and the highways could be heard, a soft background noise. The elegant entrance to the hotel reflected brilliantly in the twin lakes in front as people checked out, checked in and kept the clerks busy.
The college soccer player was eating breakfast with her family, trying desperately to explain why she was standing outside that night before in her pee soaked panties and not much else. Her parents were ashamed of her, and had grounded her for the week. Typically shy, she stuck to her room for most of the day. She’d had problems at night; the nightmare of the flight replayed itself. Each time she had the nightmare, she peed in the bed, wetting her sheets, waking up with her boxer shorts soaked with her urine, embarrassed, her mother angry with her 19–year–old daughter who couldn’t control her own bladder. The girl would continue to have wetting problems for the rest of college from this incident, including peeing her pants at graduation in front of her parents and a thousand other seniors. She became afraid to date or go out with her friends, always worrying if she would pee in her pants in public again, the nightmares of that horrible flight forever torturing her.
The lobby of the hotel was busy at lunchtime. Crowds everywhere. Karen had awoken earlier, cleaned the room as best she could, and met her friend Heidi, the other flight attendant, for lunch. They waited and waited for nearly 50 minutes to finally get a small table, enjoyed a lunch, not talking much. Heidi mentioned all the commotion on the flight, remarking she’d never seen so many people wet themselves on a flight. Karen couldn’t reveal what she was thinking, but agreed. The conversation continued as the two left the table, heading across the table to the elevators. “You know,” Heidi giggled to Karen, “I think it was kind of hot to see that girl we had to put in her seat pee herself in that skirt, do you think I’m crazy?” “Yea, that was kinda cool,” Karen replied with a smile, stepping into the elevator. The door started to close as Karen pushed the button for floor number 12. Heidi leaned against the back wall, dressed in a pair of jeans and a tank top. Karen wore a pair of leggings and a sports bra. A young arm reached into the elevator just as the door was halfway closed, forcing it open. One of the thousands of cheerleaders who were attending the competition at the hotel stepped in. “Oh thanks,” the girl mumbled. She stepped in, still in her cheerleader outfit. The skirt was white with green trim, the top the reverse. Her green trunks covered her young ass, quite visible under the very short cheerleader skirt. The girl seemed preoccupied, tapping her foot quickly. Karen looked at her. She looked familiar. She saw the nametag. “Tricia.” “You look familiar,” Karen said to her. “Huh?” the girl asked, turning around, wincing in pain as she did. “Oh wow, you’re that flight attendant who peed herself, aren’t you?” the girl exclaimed, recognizing Karen’s face. “Yup.” Heidi looked shocked. “YOU peed yourself?” she asked in disbelief. “Yea, problem after the last flight,” Karen replied. “GOD, please, please don’t talk about pee, okay?” the cheerleader begged suddenly, almost collapsing altogether. “I gotta go SO bad, I’m about to uh, wet on myself!” she exclaimed, rushing her hands between her legs, bent halfway over. Heidi smiled. Karen saw her nipples harden. Karen smiled, and looked at the elevator. The floor indicator was at “6.” She reached over and pushed the red STOP button. The elevator lurched to a sudden stop. The cheerleader didn’t react for a second and then freaked. “WHAT the hell are you doing?” she yelled at Karen. Tricia’s bladder was about to explode, the 18–year–old cheerleader had been drinking water all morning during the competition and was going to go get a replacement pom–pom for one of the other girls whom she shared a room with, and use the bathroom while she was there. She was about to pee all over herself; she needed to go so badly. “I’m stopping the elevator,” Karen replied. “But– but why?” Tricia replied. “I– I need to go to the bathroom like really badly, okay, like, okay”, she stuttered, fighting off a surge of pee pressure in her abdomen. “That’s why I stopped it,” Karen said. “I didn’t like the way you teased me when I had an accident. Now it’s your turn to have one,” she replied, flatly. Heidi’s eyes grew big, she felt her own need to pee grow. Her nipples taut, her breath short, she looked in awe at the young cheerleader, her skirt barely covering her butt, the tapping of her young feet, her nervousness. It was SO obvious the girl had to pee so badly– SO badly. “But why??” Tricia replied, grimacing in pain. “Wh–what did I do to you,” she stuttered, her words coming out in partial sentences, unable to speak clearly because her struggling body needed to urinate so badly. “Well,” Karen replied, smiling evilly, “I just want to see you go to the bathroom in your cheerleading outfit,” she said plainly. Tricia panicked. “No…NOOO, please no, look I’m uh, um,” she paused, holding herself, fighting off a large wave of pressure. Tricia could barely hold on. Her pee hole burned, her body screamed for relief. The agony increased, Tricia had drunk so much water and she couldn’t hold it in. She was a tiny girl, maybe 5’3, a size 1 or 3, and her bladder was being tortured. She needed to URINATE, AND NOW, she couldn’t hold it ANY LONGER. SHE HAD TO PEE. She tried to continue. “Look, I’m in the middle of a comp, uh, competition. I gotta get back on the floor before the next event or we’re gonna be disqualified, okay. I’m the freaking captain. Please oh GoD, OH GOD NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE let me go to the bathroom, I CAN’T HOLD IT ANY LONGER.” Tricia was screaming now, her shrill voice bouncing off the elevator walls. Stuck between 6 and 7, Tricia was in panic. Heidi needed to pee, but she didn’t say anything. Tricia was squirming; she didn’t know what to do. Turning around, back and forth, Karen and Heidi kept glimpsing at the struggling teenager, the poor suffering young girl, wishing she’d just get it over with and go. Tricia kept hanging on, even though the pain was massive. Tears streamed out of her face as she begged again. “Oh God, please, oh God, pl–pl–please LET ME USE THE BATHROOM IT’S AN EMERGENCY, OKAY????” she screamed, violently angry, her body pulsating with violent intensity as the surges of pressure racked her young small framed figure. “NO,” Karen said loudly, excited totally by the struggle of the teenager. “WHY WHY WHYYYYY?” Tricia screamed in agony. Her bladder violently surged. Trying to hold back, she clenched her legs together. She turned to the two women, her hands grasping her cheerleader skirt, tugging at the ends, her feet violently pacing, her body doubled over. “Nooo, NOOOOOO” she screamed, as there was another violent surge. Tricia’s body gave way. Her bladder surged, and Tricia started to pee in her green cheerleader trunks. Five seconds she went, the wetness flooding the Lycra fabric that clung to her girlhood, her bladder pulsating wildly now. “NOO, PLEASE, PLEASE, I CAN’T HOLD IT OH GOD OH GOD OH GODDDDDD,” she wailed, her 18–year–old high pitched voice screaming, but starting to get raspy as she lost her voice. Another spurt exploded. Tricia lost control. The tortured cheerleader started peeing violently into her trunks. Pee sizzled from her pee hole, drenching the trunks, her crotch soaked, pee running in large streams down her legs, her cheerleading shoes quickly filling with pee. The elevator floor was starting to puddle. Tricia couldn’t hold it back– the flood was too relentless. She started bawling and crying like a newborn baby, her body shaking as she had a tantrum. Pee gushed from her, soaking her trunks, pee spreading through the Lycra fabric. She turned around, lifted her skirt and looked at Karen. “LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO, YOU BITCH!!!” she screamed. Karen looked, and saw the still spreading wet stain on her green trunks, the pee streams running down the girls bare legs, both inner thighs glistening with pee. Tricia totally wet herself in front of the two flight attendants, pee streaming in jets down her thighs, and then, a bit later, it stopped. Tricia glared at the two women, angry while totally embarrassed at peeing herself in front of them. Then the tears came. As Tricia finished peeing into her cheerleading outfit, she started sobbing uncontrollably, making her words barely understandable. “Oh God,whywhywhydid oh godwhywhydidyoumake me do thisoh godddd”, she pleaded, and collapsed against the side of the elevator, a puddle between her legs. Heidi almost wet herself in excitement and looked over at Karen. Karen pushed the STOP button again and the elevator moved. When it hit the eighth floor, Tricia ran off, crying, to her room, trails of wet pee marking the carpet of the hallway. The elevator door closed. Heidi looked at Karen. “WOW, I can NOT believe you just made her do that. That is SO hot!” Heidi clenched herself. Her bladder was filling rapidly, she needed to relieve herself badly, and jeans fitting snug against her body. Karen smiled, wondering if maybe they had something in common after all.
The elevator moved to the 12th floor, Heidi’s and Karen’s stop. The two flight attendants got out, Heidi squirming to hold her pee in. Karen and Heidi went into their room. The door closed, and Heidi walked into the room and then exclaimed, “OH God, I need to pee so badly I’m about to wet my pants!!!” Before Karen could answer, there was a knock on the door. Karen opened it, wondering who it was. One of the other cheerleaders appeared, apparently lost, apologized and quickly walked away. Heidi looked at Karen with a “what was that” look, then yelled with agony and suddenly she exploded. Within seconds her jeans were soaked with her sizzling pee that flowed from her body. Heidi giggled as she peed into her jeans right in front of her co–worker friend. Karen paused for a minute, and then smiled, and embraced Heidi, who welcomed the touch. Karen fondled her friends pee soaked wetness by putting her hands into her jeans and slowly removing them. Heidi stood there, in her top and panties, her pubic hair sticking through the fabric, and resumed peeing into her underwear as Karen reached for her and the two tumbled onto the bed. Both girls realized they had found their soul mates as they lay in the soon to be completely pee soaked sheets. The afternoon was a lot more interesting than they thought it would be.
Downstairs on floor 8, Tricia lay crying in her bed, soaking wet with pee, her cheerleading skirt still on. On the first floor, her team was just then being disqualified from competition because the captain hadn’t shown up. Tricia bawled in shame on her bed, not knowing how she could ever face her team again. She curled up in the bed, tearstains mixing with the pee stains on the sheets. Needing to pee again, she urinated into her trunks once again, soaking the sheets on her bed. She sobbed loudly at the horror of her day.
*****
In front of the hotel, on the sidewalk, a cute, slightly muscular dark haired runner dashed towards the doors to the hotel, seemingly in a hurry. Jessica, staying at the hotel courtesy of the airline while they sorted out her luggage and identification, had just about finished running when the spasms in her bladder caused her to end her run prematurely. Dying to pee, her bladder swollen from the constant water she drank, she quickly realized she wouldn’t last another block, and decided to head back to her room before she embarrassed herself. She made her way to the lobby door. Forcefully pushing the revolving glass door along the track, she rushed, in a hurry, almost knocking a pedestrian out of her way as she felt her bladder scream for relief. Halfway through the doors turn, a grinding noise shattered the temporary silence, and the door jammed stuck. Claustrophobic, and very desperate for a bathroom, Jessica panicked. She pressed against the door. Nothing. It wouldn’t move an inch. Looking around, she freaked. Jessica started screaming, pleading, and begging, her hands rapping loudly on the glass. People in the lobby looked over, came and tried to move the door, but to no avail. Jessica, afraid of small spaces, was trapped. Her heart rate doubled from her panic. She hyperventilated, felt dizzy, and then started screaming, her voice once again growing raspy as she screamed as loud as she could, begging for help. Her bladder throbbed violently inside of her. Wearing only a pair of slightly tight medium green nylon running shorts and a tight Lycra sports bra, she felt exposed. As onlookers rushed to the hotel to see the commotion, the lobby manager called the fire department. Jessica looked around in absolute horror, her eyes wide with fright, starting to have a nervous breakdown, alone and trapped in the revolving door! Her throbbing bladder, weakened from the prior days torment didn’t help matters, the constant stinging so familiar to her returning, the surging pain, the pressure. Jessica tried to hold it in, still screaming, pleading, and begging for someone to release the jammed door. Her voice growing hoarse, she started crying uncontrollably again, large sobs coming from the girl’s body, and then intermittent loud screams as she cursed the world for treating her so wrongly. Her hands hurt, she pounded harder against the glass, and her wrists became sprained from beating relentlessly on the stuck glass door, the pain in her wrists in addition to the extreme agony of her distended bladder. She thrashed around, completely breaking down, still alternating between loud screaming and intense crying. Her bladder throbbed, her body in agony, she could no longer contain the river of pee inside. Screaming and crying, Jessica stood there, banging constantly, trying to free herself when she suddenly, without warning, exploded, and peed ferociously into her shorts. Pee streams exploded violently into her cotton panties and through the thin fabric of her nylon running shorts, pee cascading down her toned legs, a large pee puddle forming on the floor of the door. Sheet after sheet of hot pee streamed down her tensed legs, pee escaping the traumatized girls body in buckets. Her Nikes were soaked, her socks sopping wet. The puddle spread quickly, filling the area around her feet as she continued to pee into her panties and shorts. The crotch and butt of her shorts were dark and soaking wet with her hot urine. Jessica went into a total nervous breakdown. Everybody in the hotel and everybody who walked by saw the poor girl, gripped in horror, as she stood there, screaming, thrashing violently in a tantrum, trapped– and peeing uncontrollably into her shorts for all to see. A crowd has started to form, watching the commotion, many gasping as they saw the girl totally pee herself while trapped, tears streaming from her face in horror as the violently thrashed in the trapped space. The fire department was still 10 minutes away. Among the crowd of onlookers staring at Jessica’s desperation tantrum was another dark haired girl, wearing a loose black tank top and a pair of green khaki pants. Nobody in the crowd noticed as she started peeing into her pants, large floods of dark wetness soaking the insides of her legs. A smile came across her face as she continued peeing into her clothes while watching Jessica have a nervous breakdown in the stuck revolving door. Overhead, the sounds of planes filled the sky– the sounds of travel. The hotel bus pulled up, the words “HOTEL SHUTTLE” reflecting in the lake. As the travelers disembarked the bus they noticed in shock this girl in her running shorts, collapsed in agony, curled in a fetal position, tears streaming out of her eyes as she lay in a huge puddle of her own pee. The girl in the green khaki pants quickly walked away, pee still dripping down her legs as she strode, people on the street looking at her in shock, noticing clearly that she had wet her pants. Jessica lay there, trapped still in the door, sobbing violently, thrashing in despair, unable to comprehend her bad luck. It was Jessica’s absolute horror.
By: Gillian