The Match - Part 1

Part One
“Mmmmmmhhheeewwwwwwwww. MMMMmmmmhheewwwwww. Mmmmmmhhh.”
She moaned loudly, sounding like a wounded cat as she did so. Another bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, her bare legs clenched together, tightly, tensed, her pulse quickening, breathing rapid, eyes dilated, face twisted. Her left hand waved through dark brunette hair, tied up in a single ponytail that flopped against her back and then rapidly grasped her thigh, finger–nails biting clutching her skin. Her body twitched, she shivered. Goose bumps rose on her bare legs, the cool air chilling her. She struggled again, breath held tight, eyes widening as the pressure came again. Stinging. Pulsing. She twitched violently, the shrieking pain intense, her body in spasms as she fought. Her face twisted with agony, she cried out, loudly, once again.
“Mmmmmmhhhewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!”
Higher pitched this time. Heartbeat quickening, a rapid pulse, her body beginning to tremble uncontrollably again, the fierce, piercing wave of pressure torturing her, her body rebelling, screaming loudly, fighting against all of her will. Bare feet paced rapidly on the cold, hard floor. Pit–Pat–Pit–Pat. Fighting, tense, she held on, the ocean wave of terrorizing desperation overcoming her struggling body. At the peak of the pressure, she cried out in agony, loudly.
“MMMMHHHEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
Much louder, just as the largest wave of pressure yet passed through her distressed, pain–racked young body. “GODDDDDDD Oh GODDDDDD,” she cried out plaintively, looking up, begging, the shrieking agony so intense within her, the stinging agony overcoming her every thought and every breath. She pressed her thighs together, her hands gripping her legs, nails digging into her white skin now, fighting, holding, the torment unyielding. She couldn’t stand still, the agony again starting to surge from inside her abdomen; the stinging that had slightly subsided regaining intensity once again. Worse this time, she clung tightly, crying out, louder still.
“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHMMMMMEWWWWWWWWW!”
Screaming this time, her body trembling uncontrollably, her feet tip–tapping rapidly again on the cold floor, her legs shaking, her face contorted, eyes wide with fear, the pain searing through her body, stinging wildly, she screamed again, even louder.
“Nooo, Oh God NOOOOO, MMMMMMEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW NOOOOOO”
Pleading again, her voice growing hoarse, her body again fighting the agonizing surge inside of her that swelled inside so painfully. Hands sweaty, she quickly wiped her palms on the white lycra fabric of her gymnastics leotard to dry them off and then, almost losing control, quickly placed them between her thighs, pressing, compacting her body, holding, resisting the urge, heart racing faster, breathing rapid, the pressure mounting to new heights. Her heart raced, the pain increasing. How much longer could she take this? The wave grew stronger, the agony increasing. She trembled again, shaking this time. Struggling to even scream this time, concentrating.
“MMMMMMM” she paused, gripping harder, fighting back. “Oh God NOOO. MMMM NOOOOO !!!!! Oh please NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Screaming again, her body tortured, intense agony overcoming the eighteen–year–old gymnast, her face red with exertion as she fought her bodies urges, trying desperately to hold it back. Feet pacing again, the soles dirty from the floor of the hallway. Shaking uncontrollably, she leaned against the cold, hard concrete wall behind her in the hallway, the cold rock against her back, snagging the fabric of her gymnastics leotard, the roughness of the wall uncomfortable. She leaned forward, bending over slightly, legs taut, and the pain increasing yet again as her bladder screamed inside of her. Taut, tensed, her muscles gripped like steel. Holding on. Holding tight. She fought through the wave of pressure that soared through her abdomen; her bladder’s membranes stretched to their limits, the pain burning, it hurt so badly. Her breathing paused as she fought the urge, every nerve ending inside of her screaming in rebellion. She needed to pee so badly, so very badly.
“MMMMMHHEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.” “OH GOD PLEASEEEEE!!” she cried out, maximum volume now, total desperation. Just as she had fought off the last ocean wave that had built up inside her, another quickly started to build. Her bare legs clenched together, but she was so tired. She dared part her legs for a brief second to relax, almost uncontrollably peeing into her leotard as she did so, the soaring, building pain once again becoming unbearable. She had to hold on. Legs clenched again, her muscles fatigued from exertion. “MMMMHHEEWWWWW” she cried out again, the agony quickly building, her legs tense again, her breathing even more rapid, another bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. She could barely keep her eyes open. The pain increased. “MMMMHHeeeewwwwwww” she moaned, softer this time, her voice becoming veiled from screaming as she tried to hold on one more. She fought through the pain, her body once again trembling, shaking, her legs twitching once again as her body rebelled, desperate, in utter agony, tortured by her overfilling bladder. She felt faint and took a deep breath, trying not to pee into her gymnastics outfit, forcing her urethra shut, her body shaking harder, the stinging increasing again. She cried out again. “MMMMMEEEHHHWWWWWWWWWW!!!!”
She had to hold it. Somehow. She had to find a way to keep it in. Another wave overcame her body, pressure racking every muscle and joint as she screamed out loud in total agony, her voice hoarse and ragged, and the pain unbelievable.
“MMMMMMMHHEEEWWWW Oh God Oh God Oh God please, please, please, don’t make me pee myself!!!”
She was pleading, crying out, begging. The pressure grew again, her body tortured beyond belief from her overstretched bladder.
“NOOOO, PLEASE NOOOOOO Oh GODDDDD NOOOO, Oh God NOOOOOOOO MMMMHHEEEEWWWWWWWWW” she screamed again, fighting again, her body twitching, her bladder throbbing, the pain immense, worse than anything the eighteen year old had ever experienced in her life. “NOOOOOO. Oh God, please, please, PLEASE OH GOD NOOOO.” She wailed in protest. It didn’t help. Another crashing wave of agony began to build in her body, the stinging constant now.
Humiliated, tortured, she tried to look away, her body relaxing for the shortest of pauses as somehow she fought through the last wave. She tried to breathe, tried to focus, and once again, the next agonizing wave of torture started to build. Quicker this time, her bladder pulsating madly within her. She needed to go pee so badly, so urgently. Trembling, she felt the pressure surge. She screamed again. “MMMMEHHHEWWWWWWW.” Loudly. This time there were people walking in the hallway, classes were out. She grew red with embarrassment when she realized people would see her like this. The pressure doubled, the stinging forcing every thought to controlling her desperate bladder.
Other girls walked by in the hallway, giggling, stealing glances at her, laughing. They knew what was happening, the whole school knew by now. Most everyone stared at the struggling girl, looking intently at the white gymnastics leotard pulling tight against her swollen tummy, the white lycra fabric taut against her athletic, trim, gymnast body.
Humiliated. She felt humiliated, standing there, in the hallway, only in her gymnastics outfit, nothing else, not even the usual pair of gymnast trunks underneath. She tried to shield herself; without the trunks her pubic bush was definitely visible through the tight, clinging fabric of her white leotard, the very lines where she trimmed it obvious to all who glanced. Her vulva felt exposed, the depression of the slit, the protruding mound, the exact shape, even texture of her femininity outlined and detailed by the tight white fabric– on display. All the girls who walked by giggled, staring at the exposed, desperate gymnast, watching her now–obvious struggle to hold her pee as she stood there, leaning against the wall, obviously needing to pee so badly it would be only a matter of time before she’d have an accident right there in the hallway. A few of the girls who walked by also had to go to the bathroom and were trying to hold it during the next class, wondering if they should have gone to the bathroom beforehand, realizing that it could happen to them too. Everybody giggled at her, talking to their friends, wondering out loud how long the desperate girl could hold on before peeing herself right there in the hall in front of everyone. She started to cry; small tears, and once again fought another surging wave of pressurized torture that spread through her desperate body.
Ashamed. Eighteen years old and the star gymnast on the schools team, she felt ashamed, on display, every curve, every depression, and every muscle on display as she stood there, almost naked. She felt so exposed, so uncomfortable, standing in the hallway. On the gymnastics floor she’d be comfortable in her outfit, but she’d also have trunks on underneath, the gymnastics outfit version of panties, something to cover the pubic hair and hide the details, and her body wouldn’t feel so exposed; but not here– just the leotard. Her bulging mound protruding through the tight fabric, a few sharp hairs sticking through the lycra as it clung tightly to her most private body parts, she felt so exposed, so humiliated, dressed like this in the hallway; so ashamed. Tears started to roll silently down her cheeks. Her bladder tormented her again, she screamed out loud again, girls laughing as she did so, trembling as she held her urethra shut, forcing her pee hole closed, holding on, holding, just holding.
“MMMMMHHEWWWWWWWWWWWW Oh God Oh God please NOOOOO” she screamed, her body violently twitching in agony again.
Desperate. She struggled again, screaming loudly in vain as girls continued to laugh at her, giggling at how badly she must have to go to the bathroom, wondering if she would have a wet leotard soon or if she could hold it long enough. She cried out in agony, twitching again, her body shaking uncontrollably, the pain immense. In the garbage can a few feet away were six empty bottles of water, the kind you’d buy at the store to drink during a workout, small, about twenty ounces per bottle. More girls walked by, giggling, a few making snide comments as she stood there, her bladder screaming at her, demanding release, her body on full display, her pubic mound engorged, needing to pee so badly she could no longer stand still. Fighting another wave, she screamed out loud again, embarrassing herself yet again as a pair of girls laughed out loud as they watched the gymnast scream in agony from a completely full, tortured bladder. Chrissy was so desperate to use the bathroom, but she couldn’t go. This was her punishment. The bathroom across the hallway from her was locked, on purpose, and she wasn’t allowed to leave where she stood, right there, exposed, ashamed, completely desperate, leaning against the wall, her body shaking, moans of piercing agony emanating from her vocal cords as she fought through wave after wave of pee pressure building inside her tortured, desperate young body. Her nipples were erect, the cold temperature of the hallway didn’t help, and neither did wearing something so revealing, so clingy, so tight. And she was in full view of all who passed by. Her breasts, small but shapely were defined nicely by the fabric, the smaller rounded shape pleasing to the eyes of many.
“MMMMMHHEEWWWWWWWWWWWW.” She screamed again, loudly. It was almost time for lunch; most of the girls now were running down the hallway, late. The pressure increased again, her knees almost gave way, and she tried to hold on, tensing her muscles tightly again. Her bladder screamed so strongly inside of her, the pain increased with each wave of building, ocean–like pressure inside of her tormented completely desperate body. The white leotard was so snug, so tight, encasing and trapping her girlhood, the bulge so obvious, her femininity on display as she struggled to maintain dignity. “GODDDDDDD OH PLEASE NOOOO!” she wailed. A small brunette haired girl ran from the hallway, dressed in short yellow Umbro soccer shorts and a navy blue tank top. Running to the bathroom, she found it locked, and tried again, panicking. Struggling, the girl, obviously desperate turned to Chrissy, and without even realizing the agonizing desperate torment that Chrissy was experiencing, asked her if the bathroom was locked. Of course it was. Stupid question. Chrissy couldn’t answer, and just squeaked out something unintelligible in reply. The girl looked around, in panic, took three steps, then immediately placed her hands between her legs and bent halfway over. “NOOOO” the girl screamed suddenly, and she turned around facing Chrissy, a pleading look on her face. Pee exploded from the girls shorts as she stood there, facing Chrissy, stream after stream exploding, pouring from between the gap between the girls legs and the edge of the nylon shorts, a steady stream spraying out from her, uncontrolled, the girl was having a huge accident right in front of Chrissy! Another girl ran by, obviously late, and as the class bell rang, giggled as she saw the brunette girl from gym class still peeing into her shorts right into the hallway. She laughed when she saw how obvious the girl’s panty line was through the thin fabric. The girl cried out and ran down the hallway, humiliated that she had just peed into her shorts in high school. Just what Chrissy did NOT need to see. Watching the other girl suddenly urinate into her own clothes, right there, just a few feet in front of her was torture, reminding her of how badly she needed to go pee. The large puddle of pee the girl had made on the hallway floor was just five or six feet away. A huge puddle, the girl obviously had needed to go, so very badly– but not nearly as badly as Chrissy. The time between the waves of intense searing pain grew shorter; her bladder was being tortured beyond anything imaginable. She looked up at the clock. The minute hand ticked. It had to be time! The door HAD to open!
Legs twitching in agony, Chrissy looked down at the tiled floor beneath her, concentrating, focusing, and doing anything to keep her body from peeing uncontrollably into her leotard. She tried pacing again, feet tapping. That helped. She moved. She couldn’t stand still now, the intense pressure demanding that she constantly fidget and tremble. Her body, tired and weak now, could barely hold on, her bladder tormented, it filled even further, every muscle screaming in pain demanding that the young girl relieve herself immediately – Chrissy needed to go pee so incredibly badly, but wasn’t allowed to. Tears started to flow from her eyes as she fought the pain.
Torture. Chrissy felt tortured, unable to comprehend why. WHY was this happening to her? WHAT had she done to deserve this agony? WHEN would she get a bathroom break? She struggled to maintain her dignity, exposed, humiliated, embarrassed, tortured, as she stood there, wave after wave of pee pressure increasing in her already tense and pain–racked body.
“MMMmmmmhhhewwwwwwwwwwwWWWWWW !!!!!!!!.” She screamed again, her body being denied the right to use the bathroom, her bladder tortured, her urethra clenched as she tried to keep her pee inside. She reached her left hand up to wipe away her tears, she managed to somehow stop crying, not wanting to be humiliated any further than she already was. Most of the other girls were at lunch period, but a few ambled through the halls, always laughing when they saw Chrissy standing there, shaking, absolutely desperate to pee. Chrissy tried to look away, tried to hide, but couldn’t. She was desperate and on display, and there was nothing she could do about it. WHEN would she get her break?
She moaned again, louder, the pain increasing, her bladder throbbing. She looked down at the white fabric on her long sleeves, a slight tear mark where it too had snagged against the hard concrete wall behind her. “Mmmmmmheeewwwwwwwww” she moaned again, fighting, tense, holding, tightening, and willing herself to keep from peeing into her white long sleeve gymnastics leotard. She struggled, the sensations of extreme pain coming and going in waves, ocean currents of pressure that would ebb and flow. The strongest waves were searing, white–hot pain where she could feel her pee come seemingly to the very edge of her urethra, dying to escape, the pressure inside of her mounting, her bladder pulsing violently in rebellion as the 18 year old star gymnast tried to hold her pee. She looked at the clock directly across from her, above the gray office door. Five minutes after the hour. She was late. She wanted to go PEE, so BADLY that she couldn’t STAND the pain, the agony, and the humiliation of being made to hold her own pee. Chrissy looked down the hallway to the right, a long line of concrete walls that led into a brighter section of the building where the classrooms were. “MMMMMMHHEEEWWWWW” she moaned louder as a huge wave of pressure overtook the 18 year old gymnasts body and she clenched, hard, keeping the surging pee within her self, crying out as she did so, the pain piercing through her like a knife through butter, her bladder tormented beyond comprehension, her heartbeat racing as she cried out again in total agony. “MMMMHHEEEEEWWW Oh GODDDDD.” She clenched her legs harder, she looked pitiful, standing there in the hallway, leaning up against the cold wall, dressed in so little, desperate, about to burst and trying valiantly to hold on. “COME ON” she cried out, willing the clock to move, fighting another wave of intensity course through her taut body. She looked down the hallway to the left. Up at the clock. Her heart raced, the pressure wave came again, yet stronger. She cried out again, willing her bladder to hold, keeping the thrashing, filled urine inside. She shifted her weight again, starting to pace constantly, the burning pressure increasing, the flood inside of her demanding release. A few feet from her on the left was the door to the gymnasium. A few feet down from that was the restroom. Locked. She saw the clock tick to the fifteen past the hour mark, and quite late this time, the gray door directly across from her opened.
Kim walked out, slowly and deliberately. Five feet six inches tall with shoulder length brown hair and piercing brown eyes, an ex–gymnast herself but now in her early thirties and coaching, Kim was certainly attractive, a petite but well toned body that belied her true age. Pausing, Kim looked at her star gymnast, visually taking in the scene in front of her, looking at the struggling girl standing across from her, only in her leotard, desperate, begging, crying with pain. Chrissy was eighteen years old, five foot four inches tall, brunette hair, green eyes, with a small 32B chest, and athletic, muscular but slender legs, her quad muscles slightly overdeveloped, as were her calves. Chrissy was, however, quite sexy in an athletic way. Kim didn’t say a word; she just stared, intently. Trembling, Chrissy looked desperately at her coach, crying out in desperation. “MMhhewww. Oh God, please, please I need to use the bathroom now! Oh God, please, please Coach, I can’t hold it any longer, Oh Goddd. Honest, I need to go PEEEEEE.” Kim looked at her and smiled, and then walked back inside her office, shutting the door behind her. “NOOOOOO,” Chrissy cried out in agony, “NOOOOO Oh God please PLEASE PLEASE I need to go PEEEE” she screamed, struggling as she tried to walk to the door, struggling with each step. Kim came back out, stared silently and forcefully into Chrissy’s eyes and then handed Chrissy another bottle of water. She spoke, softly and calmly, but firmly. “Drink this, Now.” Chrissy stared at her in disbelief. “NOOOO, Oh God, please NOOOO, don’t don’t Oh God, don’t make me drink any more please okay?”
This was her seventh bottle of water in a little over two hours, and the struggling, completely desperate gymnast could barely hold her pee she needed to go so badly.
“Drink this, now” Kim replied, forcefully but calmly.
“Oh God NOO, I can’t drink another one, honest Coach, please..Oh God, please please please let me use the bathroom okay? I promise I won’t do it again. Oh God. Please?? I really need to go peee!!!”
Chrissy started to cry, her bladder pulsing violently inside of her, her pee screaming, about to explode out of her clenched lips, but somehow she held on. The struggling teenager looked up at her coach, tears starting to stream down her face now as she begged her coach for a bathroom break. “OH GOD, please please I really need to use the bathroom. Oh GOD please please I can’t hold Oh my God please I just need to go pee please why why wy why wwwwwwhyyy are you doing this to me anyway??? I just need to go PEEEEEE!” she screamed.
“Drink it,” Kim commanded, sternly this time.
“But I CANT, honest, I need to go PEE, please, don’t make me drink any more water, pleaaassseeeeee. I really need to go TO THE BATHROOM, Oh God, PLEASE, I’m about to wet my leotard!!!!”
“DRINK IT NOW!” Kim screamed. Chrissy jumped back in fear, almost losing control, she had never heard her coach scream before.
“NOO, I really can’t HONEST, I NEED TO GO PEE NOWWWWW” she screamed, protesting.
“Please PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME DRINK IT, OH Goddd Oh God Oh GOD Please please please just let me use the bathroom!!! Please don’t make me Oh God please nooooo.”
Chrissys body trembled and shook violently as she fought off another surge, clenching her pee hole shut, feeling the hot urine surge to the very edges, the pain so intense, the torture almost unreal.
“If you want me to sign off on your scholarship, drink this right now, or it’s all over” Kim looked at Chrissy.
Chrissy did not dare to disobey her coach. “Oh Goddd nooooooooo” she softly cried, broken, unable to resist, humiliated once again. Crying, Chrissy took the bottle, twisted the cap open, and tried to drink the water, her bloated stomach barely able to take any more. As the cool water flowed down her throat, Chrissy felt her bladder stretch even more, the immense weight of her full stomach, already filled with water didn’t help. Her need to use the bathroom grew even stronger. Kim smiled as she watched Chrissy drink the last bottle of water, slowly, trying to force the water down into her bloated body. Chrissy felt the pressure intensify, this was putting the pain past what she could control. She finished the bottle, crying, her body relentlessly screaming for a bathroom, but not being granted the wish. “There, please please please can I use the bathroom now?? Oh please, I promise, I need to go pee so badly, Oh Godd hurrrry please I need to use the bathroom”
A group of girls had finished their lunch and walked by and then stopped, just six or seven feet away from Chrissy and Kim. They giggled as they watched. They knew what was going on.
“OH God, please please please” Chrissy cried out. Kim stood there, silent, watching her star gymnast twitch in the ultimate desperation, her body so obviously needing to pee, but not being given permission to do so. She stood there, legs twitching involuntarily in agony, her bare feet pacing back and forth rapidly on the cold tile, one hand in between her legs, pressing hard against her pee hole, holding back the burning, tortured pee that tormented the gymnasts desperate body. She tried to concentrate, but couldn’t. The pain increased again, her bladder throbbing incessantly as it filled beyond capacity, the agonizing pain and torture continuing as she was being forced to hold her pee well beyond her usual ability to do so. She so DESPERATELY wanted to go pee, she would have done anything to go PEE. “MMMHHEEEWWWWWWWW Oh NOOOO” she cried out, feeling the very slightest droplet of pee escape her clenched lips as a huge, surging wave of pain overtook her struggling, taut body. The very slightest damp spot appeared around her pee hole, a mere half–inch wet spot on her white leotard, but Chrissy panicked, embarrassed, knowing she was slowly starting to lose control. She looked up desperately at Kim, who stood there silently, watching. “OH GODDDD” she cried out, as there was another surge of pain. She pushed hard into her pee hole, but to no avail. Another small drop or two seeped out, even against all the pressure and tenseness Chrissy was putting into her muscles to control herself. “NOOOO!!!!!!!!” She screamed, then again “OH GODDDD, NOOOO NOOOO NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! Oh God please stop, please Oh NOOOO!” The pain doubled, searing, challenging Chrissy to control herself.
Kim put her weight on her other foot as she stood there, watching. She still had not spoken another word. She looked up at the big clock on the wall. The group of girls standing near them had grown. Chrissy recognized many of them from her classes. “Come here” Kim commanded. Chrissy struggled and left the wall and walked in front of Kim, her body twitching again, the biggest wave of pressure overtaking her. “So you have to go pee badly now, yes?” she asked. “OH God, please yes, just please please let me go to the bathroom. Please. I’ll do anything, Oh God, please please don’t make me pee myself right here!!!!!!!”
Chrissy tried to fight the next wave, but the pressure was too much. As she stood there listening to her friends giggle at her and tease her, she was trying to fight the pressure and keep her pee hole shut while begging to her coach for the break she needed so badly over an hour ago. Her pee hole burning with absolute desperation, crying, she looked up at Kim, struggling. “OH NOOO, please I’m going to pee, Oh God I’m going to have an Oh Goddddddd Oh Goddddd I need to go peee!” she screamed. Her bladder thrashed, and Chrissy uncontrollably peed into her white leotard for five seconds, pee exploding through the clinging fabric, a jet of pee soaking the lycra fabric and running down the inside of her right thigh. “NOOOOOOO” she screamed as the girls started laughing uncontrollably as they saw the spreading wet spot in Chrissy’s team uniform. “NOOO” she screamed again, somehow stopping the flow. Kim reached over and rubbed her hand on Chrissy’s swollen tummy, circling, pressing into her pubic bone, and pressing harder. Chrissy screamed as her coach tortured her by pushing up against her bladder. “NOO stop, Oh God, nOOO nooooo NOOOOOOOO OH GOD NOOOOOO!” she screamed, and then Kim shoved her hand into Chrissys tummy with all her might. Chrissy’s body exploded as Kim shoved again and pee exploded out of the gymnast’s body. A huge thrashing, sizzling, hissing stream of boiling hot pee exploded out of her throbbing pee hole, her crotch of her leotard soaked with pee as she urinated uncontrollably into her gymnastics outfit right there, pee streaming from the thin fabric, splashing on the floor, streams flowing straight down between her legs, flowing streams of hot pee soaking her thighs, stream after stream of hot pee cascading down her bare legs, sheet after sheet, like waterfalls, hot pee exploding from her desperate, tortured, humiliated body. Chrissy tried but could not stop peeing. The girls were giggling and one of them accidentally peed into her tight blue jeans in embarrassment from the excitement of watching the gymnast wet herself right there in the hallway. A smaller puddle formed between the jeans girl legs and she ran off, embarrassed as Chrissy continued to wet herself.
Chrissy peed into her white leotard all over her bare legs, all over the floor, her crotch transparent now, her private parts visible to the girls and to Kim and anyone else who walked by. No matter what Chrissy tried, she could not stop going. It took her two minutes to completely empty her bladder into her outfit in front of everyone, and when she was done, she was standing in a huge seven foot wide puddle of her own pee that spread on the stone floor of the hallways. Crying uncontrollably, she looked up at Kim, broken, humiliated, beaten.
Kim just stood there and smiled as the other girls hurried off to class. Tears continued to stream down the humiliated gymnasts face as she looked up to her coach for sympathy, but found none.
“Come inside,” Kim commanded softly. Chrissy followed, completely ashamed, almost numb from the humiliation of being made to wet herself in her uniform right there in the hallway. Kim smiled and put her fingers through the girl’s hair, stroking it. “You can go clean up now, Chrissy. When you’re done, please put on your workout shorts and come back out here and we’ll talk some and discuss this.” Chrissy, too ashamed to even speak, started crying again as sheepishly walked back to the shower. Kim watched as the last trickles of pee droplets fell from the back of Chrissy’s legs as she walked back to the shower. A small trail of pee droplets marked each step that Chrissy took, a tiny puddle between Chrissys legs where she had been standing.
Kim sat back in her chair and attended to some paperwork as Chrissy walked to the back of coach’s office, which also had a shower and a bathroom. As Kim worked, Chrissy stood under the hot water of the shower, feeling it cleanse her pee soaked body. Her pee soaked leotard lay outside the shower stall, next to her gym bag that she had brought for the day. She cried once again, completely humiliated by the experience of being made to wet her pants by someone, especially someone she knew so well as her coach. She tried to focus on the scholarship, but couldn’t. She just wanted to know WHY coach had made her do this? Why had she been made to wet her pants? She didn’t understand. The warm water felt so good as it ran down the teenagers body and her hands unconsciously reached between her legs and she felt the warm water trickle through the matted tufts of her coiled pubic hair. She briefly touched herself in the most secret of spots, but then thought the better of it and finished washing. Standing there, naked, her 32B breasts perky and her dark nipples fully erect, she looked at herself in the mirror. Still ashamed, wondering how many classmates had walked by in the hallway watching her pee violently into such a skimpy, revealing outfit. Chrissy fought back tears, trying to gather her emotions. Drying off, she changed into her sports bra and pair of loose and very short workout shorts with the same color, same team emblem. She had been annoyed that her coach had taken away her clothes too and locked them in a locker. She didn’t even have underwear for under the workout shorts, and Chrissy felt humiliated once again, knowing the somewhat loosely cut and very high–cut legs of the shorts would mean any movement on her part and her naked and most personal parts would be totally exposed. She tugged down on the shorts to try and cover herself, and sheepishly walked out into the room. The white sports bra was thin and her nipples responded to the cool air in Kim’s office, once again becoming fully erect. The shape of her small but rounded breasts was completely visible through the micro–fine fabric, this particular brand of sports bra had trouble selling since it revealed almost too much.
She felt ashamed, still not believing that just a few minutes earlier she had been made to wet herself in her gymnastics outfit, on purpose. She could not get that thought out of her head. Why– just why? Why had her coach made her drink all that water and then make her pee in her leotard? Chrissy tried not to cry as she went over the questions in her mind. Why, she didn’t know. She walked out and Kim turned around in her chair. “Hi, good, all cleaned up. Excellent. Have a seat, Chrissy.” Chrissy sat down in the chair, wondering what was going to happen.
Kim got up and walked over to a large flat screen TV that was on the wall near her desk. Chrissy figured it would be time for critique or something. Kim reached over to her desk and handed Chrissy a bottle of water. “Drink this.” Chrissy looked up, wondering what was going on, but did as her coach requested. “Let’s watch some tape,” Kim said, and inserted a DVD into the DVD player.
Chrissy looked at the blue empty screen on the TV but then quickly froze in horror. The film they were about to watch was the championship match for the division her high school was in, from last week. Chrissy didn’t want to watch this; it was too embarrassing. “So, Chrissy. Let’s review what happened. I want you to know WHY you’re being punished today.” Kim spoke, clicking the remote control as she did so.
Chrissy didn’t answer. Now she knew.
She didn’t have to be told.
Suddenly, everything was clear. She had single–handedly lost the gymnastics match, and was being punished for it.
That was it, Chrissy thought. She had lost the gymnastics championship for the school, and her coach was still mad at her for it. And now she was going to have to watch the whole agonizing thing again, with her coach right there. Normally she didn’t mind the film review sessions, but this was too much. Chrissy wanted to run and hide, to dash out of the room and go cry somewhere, but she couldn’t. As she sat back in her chair, in her loose workout shorts, sitting back, she didn’t realize she was exposing herself. Kim walked by and could clearly see Chrissy’s mound, lips, and even pee hole as her shorts parted from the way she was sitting. Worse yet, Chrissy felt her bladder slowly start to fill. She knew her coach wouldn’t let her use the bathroom during review sessions – that was a rule, and as her bladder once again spoke to her, she had no choice but to sit there and hold it. Chrissy knew she had drank a lot of water, and she was worried if it would make her have to pee really badly again. She certainly did not want to repeat what had just happened a half hour ago.
A noise filled the room, static appeared on the screen, went away, and a wide shot of the gymnasium from last week appeared– the same gym that Chrissy had lost the match in. No doubt, it was Chrissy who had cost her school the gymnastics championship, that fact could not be denied. As she sat there, she felt even more ashamed. Being made to wet her leotard in front of her coach and her friends in the hallway of school was bad enough but watching this DVD of last week just added insult to the injury. She tried not to cry as the sound started and the program began. She looked sheepishly over at Kim, who had the remote control in her hands. She knew the program: Kim would pause the DVD and discuss things as they happened. Chrissy was so ashamed, she started to cry a little, embarrassed, humiliated, wishing she didn’t have to go through this. Worse yet, she felt her bladder filling rapidly, her kidneys still processing the large amounts of liquid she had drank in the past few hours. Chrissy subconsciously put her hand between her legs, right in the gap of the shorts between her thigh and the fabric and touched her pee hole, pressing, until she realized what it might look like. Feeling the pressure build inside, she shifted, trying to become comfortable somehow as her bladder slowly began to stretch, and she fidgeted. She wished she could have used the bathroom before this started. She almost asked her coach, but then thought it better to remain silent. It was too late anyway – the DVD started.
The team of six girls, Chrissy, Katrina, Molly, Amber, Rachel, and Rebecca, stood next to the bench in the team area. In front of them lay the apparatus; a balance beam, uneven parallel bars, a vault, and an open tumbling area for the floor exercise. Chrissy was the best gymnast on the team, she came from years of ballet and dance training before switching to gymnastics and both of her parents were athletic. She had trained at several gyms that had produced Olympic champions and had practiced for many hours, giving up almost all of her social life in order to compete in gymnastics. Her goal was a gymnastics scholarship, one that she would get as long as her coach approved it. Her family was too poor from paying all those school dues and couldn’t afford to send her to college. If she were to pursue her dream of collegiate gymnastics, she’d have to get the scholarship, period.
Amber was the second best gymnast on the team. A gorgeous girl with long dark hair and a pretty face, she had a slightly longer build than the other girls but was equally as powerful. Whereas Chrissy’s specialty was the balance beam and the floor exercise, Amber was a specialist on the uneven bars – nobody else on the team scored as high as her, and while she was a little inconsistent, when she controlled her power, she could score with the best of them on floor exercise. Molly was the vault specialist; she was also a cheerleader for the school and had a pretty good floor routine as well. Powerfully built with strong legs and square hips, she was the most athletic on the team. The other girls were fairly good at every apparatus, none standing out in any particular way on any of them. As Chrissy, Amber, and Molly did, the team did. If any of the three had an off night, it usually meant losing out to one of the strong competing teams in their same division.
Kim paused the film as soon as the camera panned over to Chrissy, and then zoomed in. Chrissy cringed, embarrassed by what she saw on the DVD. Kim looked over at Chrissy, who was obviously embarrassed. “Ok, Chrissy. How many competitions have you been to with me?”
Chrissy paused. “uhm, I don’t know, a lot.”
Kim looked stern, but still spoke calmly. “Then you should have known that by forgetting to wear your gymnastics trunks under your leotard, it would cost you a code violation for every apparatus that you competed on, right?”
Chrissy’s gaze will still locked on the still image frozen on the TV: There she was, a full body shot of her, and right there, on the network TV, and because she had forgotten to bring her trunks to wear under her white competition leotard, everyone could really see exactly what her most personal girlhood looked like – the shape, the texture of her pubic hair, where she had shaved, the way her mound protruded out in the tight fabric – everything was there. Visible. Obvious to all, both to those in the bleachers and to anyone who watched the TV broadcast. And of course most certainly the judges. Chrissy felt so ashamed, never realizing how see through the team leotard was without the trunks, embarrassed that on national TV everyone could clearly see everything, even the shape and size of the narrow passage that lay between the mounds of her girlhood. A tear rolled down her cheek as she started to cry in embarrassment. She didn’t answer her coach. A shy girl socially at times, she never had realized the magnitude of her mistake, and was mortified at how incredibly obvious her mistake was.
“So, Chrissy,” her coach continued, “Now you know why I made you wear your leotard without trunks. We needed every point we could get, and those violations added up. Plus you’re parading about out there, everybody staring at your crotch. By now the whole world knows a lot more about you than you probably wanted to. All the boys are probably talking about you now, describing your body in detail to their friends, probably going over the videotapes they made of it at night in their rooms, and all the girls are laughing at you for being so stupid to not wear your damned trunks, Chrissy!” For the first time, Kim’s normally controlled voice got loud and stern. “So if it takes me embarrassing you now to make you remember to never to do this again, that’s what I’m going to do. For the next two practices, you are not permitted to wear your trunks under your leotard. You want to show the world what your crotch looks like, then go ahead.”
Chrissy started sobbing, amazed at the cruelty of the punishment.
“I’m sorry, Coach, I promise, it won’t happen again, honestttt” Chrissy mumbled, sobbing now, totally humiliated by how exposed she had been on TV. Kim pushed the pause button. The announcers mentioned Chrissy’s outfit problems and the points taken off for code violation. Amazingly, the network continued to show her as she walked and paced nervously before her first event, the vault. Everybody who watched could gaze intently at her girlhood exposed through the team uniform. Even the other girls on the team were in shock that Chrissy had forgotten something so basic. Other competitors from the other schools giggled on the sidelines as they watched the supposedly “best gymnast in the state” walk around so exposed.
Kim sat silent as Chrissy started her vault routine. Normally not a strong vaulter, she nevertheless nailed it, getting a high 9.875 score to start the rotation. She nervously walked off to the side as the other schools star gymnast approached the vault. Running down the runway, the other gymnast flew into the air and wobbled a bit on the landing. Moments later, 9.725 appeared. Chrissy had kept first place on the vault. Kim fast–forwarded the film. Chrissy remembered thinking things might go better than she initially thought now – the vault was clearly her best performance of the night, nailing it.
“Vault was nice,” Kim said. “But let’s talk about what happened on balance beam….”
Chrissy knew what was coming next, it was all starting to fall in place; why they lost, why she was being punished. She didn’t want to watch, but knew her coach would make her. The next part was the worst– by far the worst.
Kim stopped the DVD at the balance beam. The competitor from what would be the winning team of the entire championship had just completed a nearly perfect routine on the balance beam and had scored a 9.925, the highest score on any apparatus that evening. Chrissy knew she would have to be perfect. The camera showed her pacing nervously around the beam; it had been an hour since the vault and she was looking extremely nervous. Chrissy cringed; she knew what was coming next. The cameras caught the moment that told all. Legs together as she waited for the “go” signal for the judge, Chrissy paced nervously, twitched slightly, then touched herself, right between her legs, bending over slightly. It was obvious to anyone who watched: The gymnast looked like she really needed to use the bathroom, and very, very badly at that.
Kim took a deep breath. “Chrissy, what happened. Didn’t you go to the bathroom before the competition??”
Chrissy was mortified. She thought back to the day. Running late, she rushed out of the house, needing to use the bathroom so badly she could barely drive her moms car to the gym. She had to pee SO badly she was in a huge rush, thinking only of how good it would be to get to the bathroom and let go the torrent of pee inside of her before she completely wet herself, and in that rush she had forgotten to pack her gymnastics trunks. By the time she got to the gym, she was already late and the team would be disqualified if she didn’t meet the deadline. With barely enough time to put on her leotard – without anything underneath, Chrissy didn’t have time to use the bathroom – somebody else was in the stall and there was no time for waiting. Her bladder pounding inside – she drank a lot of water on competition day – she knew she’d have to try and hold it and then maybe get a break. The pressure inside of her had been so great – she was so consumed with trying not to pee into her leotard – even putting it on, sliding the smooth, clinging fabric over her naked body tortured her swollen bladder, and she could barely walk out onto the gym floor for that competition – that’s how bad she had needed to go to the bathroom. She was petrified about peeing in her leotard and scared to even start any of her warm up or her routines, especially with her bladder POUNDING inside of her like it had been – it had been at least four or five hours since she had used the bathroom last and she was barely able to keep from exploding right there on the mat. The first vault almost did it – just running down the runway fast and jumping into the air she almost exploded into her leotard, but somehow controlled it. She distinctly remembered landing from the vault with such a shock that a tiny bit of pee slipped out, creating a one inch wet spot on her leotard crotch that, of course, the entire nation had seen on TV. She remembered thinking that she had never needed to go pee so badly in her entire life, and she had to do an entire competition, for the championship for her school, with a completely swollen and tortured bladder. By the time she had gotten around to the balance beam, Chrissy was having trouble walking, her bladder screaming inside, her need to use the bathroom so great she thought she might pee herself in front of everyone right then and there. She had asked her coach for a break but was denied since the competition was running behind schedule, and she almost cried out in anguish. Chrissy had needed to use the bathroom SO badly that she knew that the balance beam would present the worst challenge.
She looked over at Kim, who still wanted an answer to her question. “I’m sorry. Oh God. Really, I’m so sorry. I was running late and my brother was in the bathroom at the house and I had to pee really bad but I couldn’t so I rushed to the gym and then I was late and couldn’t go there because somebody was in the bathroom and then I had to get ready and I realized I had forgotten my trunks and next thing I’m on the floor and I had to go to the bathroom so bad I thought I was going to wet on myself when I did my vault. Please don’t be mad at me! Honestly, it was a mistake, I’m really sorry I didn’t use a bathroom before I came!!”
Kim looked at her sternly. She pushed the pause button once again, releasing the DVD from pause. As Chrissy landed on the beam from a complicated mount off the springboard, she wobbled slightly, her bladder screaming inside of her. Up on the beam, her desperation and agony from an obviously full bladder was visible to all. The announcers had mentioned her second code violation, and once again, comments were made about how exposed the now–completely desperate gymnast looked. The TV cameras panned up and down her athletic, sexy body, often pausing for the briefest of seconds as the camera operator stopped and gazed at her crotch, so clearly outlined and defined in the tight, form fitting, slightly transparent fabric. As she stood there, her legs together, her bladder tormented her, spasms of pressure overtaking the gymnast as she started her routine, a front somersault into a straddling landing position on the beam. That went well, but as she landed, crotch onto beam, and moved into a wide open leg–spread stance that aligned with the beam, her bladder screamed and in panic she wet into her leotard for the briefest of seconds, the shock wave of the landing too much for her muscles to control as she lost control of her pee momentarily before regaining it. Her legs wide apart, the TV cameras clearly caught the quickly spreading wet spot that formed in her white crotch as the brief one second burst of pee exploded through her clenched pee hole, soaking the white lycra fabric. Chrissy’s heart raced, she knew she’d have to hold her pee, somehow, some way. Moving up, she barely could control the pressure inside, and she knew her leotard was wet – the wetness was obvious as she placed her legs together and a small trickle formed on one inside thigh as she leapt into the air headed to the other end of the beam. Chrissy tried to concentrate, but the pressure was so intense, the pain so unforgiving. She wobbled, almost falling, her bladder screaming violently, demanding relief immediately, but getting no help. Moving to one end of the beam to start her leap section, she felt her bladder surge again. The intense pressure was too much for her, and she wobbled again, and almost fell from the beam yet again, but caught herself at the last minute. She moaned slightly; the stinging pain from her completely tormented bladder was out of control, and she had trouble concentrating on her routine. She did her leap series, almost wetting herself each time she landed, the hard force of landing on the narrow beam playing havoc on her tensed muscles that were trying to hold her pee hole clenched shut. At the other end of the bar, she turned around, and another surging wave of intense pee pressure overtook the eighteen–year–old gymnast. Her legs shook uncontrollably and she wobbled. A soft scream came out of her lips right as her bladder pulsated violently inside of her. She tried to hold on, trying to wait to do the next move until after the wave of pain swept through her, but the pressure was too great. A tear formed in her eye and rolled down her cheek as she started walk into her next move, but the pressure from her desperate need to use the bathroom so badly was too much. The screaming pain increased, the pressure not stopping this time no matter how hard Chrissy tried to clench her pee hole shut, and as she stood there on the beam, trying to pause while she tried to fight off the pressure wave, she trembled as she realized this one was far worse than those before it. Her tortured bladder went into a violent spasm and she felt the most incredible stinging pain as the pee pressure would not go away, and she didn’t know what to do. She tried to put her hand against her crotch for a second, but she knew everyone would see how badly she had to go to the bathroom (if her already wet leotard wasn’t enough of a hint). She moaned again, looking down at her coach, the pressure inside screaming, and not subsiding. Suddenly shaking, her legs twitching on the narrow beam, without warning, Chrissy could not stop the pressure and started to involuntarily go to the bathroom into her gymnastics leotard, violently, right there on the edge of the balance beam. She tried to clench her pee hole shut but couldn’t, the pressure too great, and within seconds, despite her grasping her legs in desperate agony, a powerful, throbbing, sizzling, hissing stream of pee exploded from her pee hole like a torrent, the pressure finally releasing past her weakened pee hole, immediately soaking her leotard crotch and running right down between her legs that were tightly placed together. Chrissy was peeing so hard she felt faint – the pressure was so strong pee exploded through the thin fabric and gushed out of her pee hole between her clenched lips and flowed everywhere. She tried to do her next move but couldn’t as she continued to pee as hardly as she ever had in her entire life. She almost slipped off the beam, but managed to hang on, her leotard and legs obviously wet with urine now. She started crying, and she panicked, not knowing what she should do. The audience went silent, witnessing the star gymnast as she wet herself – it was that obvious now; she couldn’t control herself and her pee totally exploded in hot, violent, sizzling jets of streaming urine from her completely desperate body. Pee thrashed out of her girlhood, streaming down her legs as she stood on the beam, facing the cameras, mortified, unable to complete her routine. The cameras of course caught it all – from the very moments that she started to lose control (and the quickly growing wet spot between her legs) and trickles of pee started to flow down her gorgeous toned gymnast thighs to when she completely lost control and pee sprayed from her like a fire hose, flooding down her legs and spraying all over the beam and then dripping off the beam onto the mat below. Chrissy was completely humiliated, wetting on herself right there in front of national TV as well as a gymnasium full of people. She tried to do another move but slipped on the wet beam (that had become soaked with her hot pee as she continued to urinate uncontrollably) and she fell onto the beam, her butt landing right on the wet spot, and then she slid off the beam. Standing there, pee once again exploded from her pee hole and a huge puddle formed between her legs; she started to cry uncontrollably as the entire auditorium froze, not believing the sight of the eighteen year old girl who was uncontrollably wetting herself, in her gymnastics outfit, right there for the entire nation to see. Shaking and trembling in utter humiliation, Chrissy fell to the ground. The last shot the TV cameras had was her, sitting in her own pee puddle, her legs slightly apart as she sat in a very unladylike position, crying uncontrollably, and the last spraying jets of pee exploding from between her legs, soaking her leotard further and making the puddle even bigger so it expanded beyond her legs on the mat. Nothing was edited, as the broadcast was live. Chrissy had wet herself, losing the balance beam apparatus, and ended up being totally humiliated in front of anyone and everyone who watched, pee streaming from her desperate girlhood in front of dozens of cameras, both from the TV stations and from the newspapers and magazines cameras. Never in the history of sports had someone had such a humiliating pee accident in public.
Chrissy started crying as she watched the high definition DVD play, showing how incredibly embarrassing it was for her to pee herself right there in competition, and on TV. Kim looked over at her, and hit STOP. There was no reason to go further. Chrissy had to default, costing her team the competition– all because she wet herself during one of the apparatus– all because she couldn’t hold back her pee. Kim got out of her chair and moved to behind her desk. She watched as Chrissy started to sob uncontrollably again, totally ashamed at how she had cost her team the victory it so deserved while completely humiliating and shaming herself on national TV in front of millions of viewers. Of course the internet sites were full of screen captures of the episode, close–ups of the pretty eighteen year olds crotch exploding and pee sizzling and streaming down her bare legs, ending up all over the balance beam. Chrissy looked over at Kim, who was now sitting behind her desk, staring intently at her, calm and collected. Chrissy continued to sob, sitting there in shame, having had to review her pee wetting accident that was broadcast on national TV during the match, embarrassed and humiliated, knowing people laughed at her in the hallways, calling her the “gymnast who peed her pants” in whispers when she walked by. The mortal embarrassment of it all was too much, and Chrissy began to sob louder. Her anxiety grew as she noticed the stinging within her once again – the second pee was always worst than the first, and the eighteen–year–old star gymnast desperately needed to use the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, Oh God, I’m sooo sorry. I promise, I promise I won’t ever do it again. Oh God please coach, please I’m sorry. Don’t punish me any more for that, it was sooo embarrassing.” Chrissy pleaded with Kim, almost unintelligible were her words as she broke down, tears streaming from her eyes as she realized the full impact of her public pee accident on the balance beam.
Kim said nothing, and watched her star gymnast cry. Chrissy continued to sob for ten minutes, feeling lonely and isolated. Worse yet, her bladder had really filled while watching the DVD, and once again she needed to go to the bathroom, her weakened pee hole and tortured bladder totally unable to hold her pee as long as last time, causing extreme waves of pee pressure to suddenly overtake the young gymnast once again. Chrissy had to pee.
Kim stood up. “Ok, come to the gym with me. Time for the yearbook picture.” Chrissy stood up and fully realized how demanding her need to use the bathroom was. She started to head back to the shower/bathroom area to pee, afraid she might wet her pants again, but Kim called out.
“Um, I need to pee, okay?” Chrissy replied, praying her coach would let her.
“No, you may not use the bathroom,” Kim replied, sternly.
“What? But please Oh my God, no… I really need to go please, please! Honest I w–w–won’t do it again please??” Chrissy broke down immediately; not believing her coach would deny her the bathroom once again.
“No, you’ll just have to learn to hold it. Come with me now.”
Chrissy looked at her coach, her eyes bulging in pain; her bladder screamed again for relief, but she had no choice and did what she was told to do. Chrissy followed her coach, walking gingerly, her bladder throbbing violently inside her once again, and they entered the gym together. Chrissy stood at the doorway, her knees shaking, unable to stand still as her bladder pulsed violently again, sending a piercing tremor of pain through the teenage gymnasts body. Her eyes squinted shut as she fought off her body’s desperate urge to pee, and then she walked awkwardly into the gym before stopping as she joined the others, her concentration focused on not peeing into her shorts. Chrissy once again needed to use the bathroom, very badly.
A balance beam was set on the mats, and the rest of the team stood there, all in their shorts with a small imprint of the school emblem on the right. Each girl wore the same thin white sports bra as Chrissy, their nipples very visible as the slightly transparent fabric clung to each of the gymnasts taut bodies. The girls looked uncomfortable in such a revealing top. The yearbook photographer for the school had a case of camera and lighting equipment off on the side and was setting up. A huge bulge in his jeans was obvious as he was obviously excited at the sights. Nobody else was in the gym.
Chrissy walked over to her friend Amber, and asked what was going on. “Hey, what’s up?” Chrissy asked Amber. “Oh, coach called us up for the team picture. Like right now she said. Sucks because I have to pee so bad I’m about to wet in my shorts! – Oh, wow, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that after what happened to you last week!!!” Amber replied as she waved her long dark hair back, her legs slightly askew as she needed to use the bathroom badly, ashamed that she had mentioned anything about a pee accident. Everyone knew what happened to Chrissy – it was the talk of the school, and Amber didn’t want to embarrass Chrissy any more after the tormenting from her friends and classmates after her incredibly humiliating public accident on national TV.
“Yea, well, me too ‘cause I’m so about to have to pee, so I hope they get this over with quickly!” Chrissy replied, feeling the incredible tinge of pain in between her legs as her bladder thrashed and throbbed again, causing her to pause as she spoke, the stinging fierce inside of her weakened, already humiliated body. Kim walked over in front of the girls and stood there, smiling. She noticed Amber twitching nervously, obviously needing to use the bathroom badly, and of course, Chrissy was again having problems standing still, her bladder already tortured from the ordeal she went through earlier, was ravished and weakened. Scanning the other girls, Kim thought Chrissy might not even be able to stand there before she started peeing – Chrissy’s desperation was so obvious as she stood there, biting her lip, her thin sports bra showcasing her every curve of her breasts, her short and slightly loose shorts high on her legs, no panties underneath, her knees shaking as her bladder tortured her inside. The cool air in the gym made all the girls nipples completely erect, poking through the thin white fabric, dark buds against brown circles, obvious to all that stood there. The yearbook photographer smiled when he saw Chrissy, obviously excited about how much of her breasts her could see, and soon take pictures of. A new girl who had just transferred to the school, Taira, stood nervously to one side. A very quiet and shy blonde girl, she was quite pretty and quite good on both the beam and the floor, but she rarely talked to anyone, preferring to be by herself. Chrissy looked over at her, standing quietly off from the other girls, about ten feet away, her almost too white, never–been–tanned white skin pale in comparison to the other girls. Amber looked over too, jealous of the new girls talents and her simple, quiet looks. Neither girl knew that Taira had to pee very badly and was quite shy, completely uncomfortable asking anybody for a bathroom break. She paced nervously; hoping the team pictures for the yearbook wouldn’t take very long. Her thin thighs pressed together as her bladder started to speak, Taira hoped none of the other girls would be able to tell how badly she needed to go pee; she was very embarrassed that she had not been given permission to use the girls room before the team picture and didn’t want to have an accident in front of anyone.
“OKAY Girls,” Kim spoke, loudly this time, breaking up the idle chatter between the girls. “Well, it’s time for our pictures, so first let’s get our team picture and then we’ll do some individual pictures and be done with it.” Chrissy looked over at Amber, hoping the session would be done with quickly as both girls were needing to use the restroom so badly they both secretly feared they would not be able to hold their pee much longer. “Okay girls. Chrissy, why don’t you, Amber, and Molly stand up against the beam. Taira, Rachel, Rebecca, and Katrina, why don’t you pose in front of them.” Kim arranged her team, now seven with the addition of the shy and quiet, yet strikingly beautiful Taira, and then stood back. The yearbook photographer came and stood some distance away with his lights set up and he started to direct the girls. In the back row, against the beam, Chrissy and Amber stood next to each other, struggling to stay still as their bladders screamed inside of them. The vent from the air conditioning blew down on them and the girls’ nipples were fully erect, stretched and poking through the microfiber sports bra. Chrissy shook slightly as her bladder convulsed inside of her violently and she almost felt pee explode from her tortured pee hole but somehow managed to hold it back, summoning all of her strength into keeping her muscles clenched, keeping the pee inside while her body so desperately wanted to void freely. The photographer clicked and the lights flashed. After five long minutes the group shot was done. Chrissy looked off in the distance, wishing she could just escape to the bathroom before she completely wet herself in front of the team. Amber was on the verge of losing control, also being denied the chance to use the bathroom before she came in by Kim, she was struggling, feeling the burning, pulsing sensation inside as she needed to pee so desperately and so urgently.
“Okay, that’s the group shot. Next, let’s do some singles.” Kim stood and looked around, obviously noticing that a few members of her gymnastics team had to pee rather badly. Taira stood, as usual, off to the side, her legs placed tightly together, her small rounded breasts snug in her sports bra, her small nipples poking through, her gaze directed to the floor as she felt her bladder fill. Chrissy looked like she was about to wet herself, pacing nervously as she waited, stealing glances at the door leading to the bathrooms. Amber was obviously desperate, standing there with her hands between her clenched legs, leaning slightly off balance as she needed to use the bathroom so badly she almost started to pee down her bare legs in her shorts right then.
“Hmm. So, before we start, girls, does anyone need to use the bathroom?” Kim looked out at the girls and immediately Chrissy, Amber and Taira raised their hands. “So, how bad do you have to go pee?” she asked. The three girls looked at each other. Amber was the first to speak. “Um, Coach, I need to go real bad, can I be excused to use the girls room, it’s an emergency?” Chrissy looked down, hoping their coach would give them permission to use the bathroom as she could barely stand there without peeing, she needed to go so badly she almost wanted to sneak behind the bleachers at the other end of the gym and just pee on the floor as her body was racked with stinging pain and pressure, her bladder tensed once again past it’s limits.
“Well, I guess we have a problem then. Because I’ve decided my team obviously needs to learn how to hold their pee better. I’m not going to lose any more fucking gymnastics matches to girls who can’t hold their pee. So, Chrissy, Amber, and Taira, please step forward.” Kim motioned to the three desperate girls to come forwards. As she did so, she reached into her backpack and pulled out three large bottles of water. “Each of you, drink this. You’re not going to be excused to use the bathroom until you’ve finished this and I have decided that you’ve learned how to hold your pee.” The three girls’ eyes widened in fright as they heard this news. All three girls were incredibly desperate, none more than Chrissy who was already on the verge of peeing into her shorts within minutes if she didn’t get a break. Amber knew she could only hold on a little longer and Taira, the shy girl, didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. The three girls started to beg for a bathroom while the girls who weren’t desperate started to giggle.
“Please, Oh God, please, I really need to go now!!” Chrissy begged, not believing her coach would make her pee in her pants again after what had happened earlier in the hallway outside of the office. “Well, Chrissy, I guess then you’ll be the first. Drink up, dear.” Chrissy knew she had no choice, and as she stood there, only in a pair of short, loose gym shorts, wearing no panties, her thin sports bra white and transparent with her nipples erect through the fabric, she started to drink the water, her body shaking as she tipped her head back. Her body reacted violently, sending a spasm of incredible pee pressure through the gymnast; her taut muscles barely able to control the pee within her that so incredibly needed to come out. She barely finished the bottle and then looked pleadingly at Kim, again begging her. “OK, please, I just drank your water, and I really need to go now. Please, it’s really an emergency. HONEST, Oh God, I really need to go peeeeeeee!!!” Chrissy’s voice was high with fright as she spoke, her legs trembling from total desperation as her body sent surging, stinging waves of pressure through her bathroom–denied body.
“Up on the balance beam. Time for your picture,” Kim spoke, firmly. Chrissy looked at Kim, not believing she was not being given permission to use the bathroom again. “NOW,” Kim screamed. The other girls shook in fear and Taira almost started peeing into her shorts from the sudden volume that came from their normally quiet coach. Chrissy hopped up on the beam and stood there, her body trying to remain balanced as she needed to pee so badly. The photographer looked up and noticed the talented gymnast wasn’t wearing any panties. Her loose shorts were pulled away from her crotch near her left leg, leaving a moderate gap and the dark curls of her pubic hair were visible to anyone who sat on the floor underneath her. He snapped a picture, zooming up her shorts, seeing the folds of her most private parts through his viewfinder. Kim smiled, knowing what he was doing. “Chrissy, do a straddle split on the beam– facing the photographer, please.” Chrissy panicked. “But Coach, I can’t do that in these shorts!!” “DO IT NOW,” Kim screamed, yelling at Chrissy. Chrissy almost started to cry but did as she was told. Placing herself on the beam, her legs completely apart, her shorts left a huge gaping chasm between the edge of her thigh and the fabric. Her entire crotch was completely exposed, her pubic hair, vulva and even pee hole completely obvious to anyone who looked. The other girls started giggling, suddenly realizing that Chrissy had not worn any panties under her very short and loose workout shorts. As Chrissy maintained that position, her bladder started to scream and her nipples grew completely erect from the cold air and the torture inside of her. She could barely maintain her balance as she needed to use the bathroom so badly. “Smile, Chrissy,” Kim commanded, and Chrissy forced a smile, putting her hands up in a typical gymnastics pose, only partially aware of how completely exposed her girlhood was to both the yearbook photographer and the other girls. Suddenly, her body convulsed and she needed to pee so badly she almost lost control. Her arms rapidly grabbed the beam to keep her balance. “Chrissy, hands UP” Kim commanded, sternly. “But coach, I I I can’t. I need to go peee, please, can we do this later, I really need to go peeeeee!!!! Honest, I can’t hold it!!!” she begged. The water had tortured the poor struggling gymnast to the very edge, and with every breath she took she felt her pee hole tortured and her muscles tested to the limits as her bladder convulsed violently inside of her. “NO, Chrissy, you may NOT use the bathroom. HOLD YOUR PEE” Kim yelled, placing her hands on her hips as she did so. Chrissy put her hands in the air, her body shaking, and the photographer resumed taking pictures, a few times zooming completely in on her shorts, seeing the most private view of the stunningly gorgeous but obviously completely desperate gymnast straddling the balance beam in a frontal split. “NOOO” Chrissy yelled, her bladder screaming again. She tried to hold herself together, but her bladder screamed in agony, her body had been through too much that day, and she concentrated hard, her eyes squinting, her heartbeat racing, her muscles taut as she tried to hold her pee in, needing to go immediately, completely desperate. “SMILE,” Kim commanded. Chrissy tried to maintain a smile, and as she looked out she saw the other girls giggling at her, staring at her exposed girlhood visible since she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Stinging pressure overtook her, and Chrissy began to shake, clenching continuously to hold back the torrent of pee inside of her. The flash went off from the yearbook photographer’s camera, and just as it did a huge shuddering wave of pain overtook Chrissy’s body and she lost control. Straddling the beam, her legs apart, her pee hole exposed, her body could no longer control her bladders urges and the desperate gymnast suddenly urinated explosively; a gushing burst of hot thrashing pee exploding out of her pee hole just as she screamed a high pitched agonizingly loud scream, a turbocharged jet of hot urine immediately spraying urine all over her shorts and soaking the balance beam as it thrashed out loudly and violently. The girls giggled loudly and the photographer took a picture of her pee stream as it exploded from her tortured pee hole, the stream golden light, wide and powerful as Chrissy peed as hard as she could while totally exposed. Chrissy could not stop peeing and she started crying uncontrollably as urine continued to spray from her body, gushing stream bursting from her pee hole for over a minute as she wet herself and the balance beam in front of her coach, the team, and most embarrassingly, the yearbook photographer. Kim stood back and smiled as she watched her star gymnast wet herself again, so humiliated, so exposed, so shamed. Chrissy fell off the beam as she started to sob and shake uncontrollably, falling into a nervous breakdown from the complete and utter humiliation she had faced, and sat, open legged, in the middle of a puddle of her own pee, on the mat, crying and shaking continuously as the other girls looked on, some in shock, some giggling at watching her pee herself in such an exposed position while the yearbook photographer took pictures. As she sat there her shorts still were splayed apart and her most private parts were still exposed for everyone to see, the moisture obvious on her pubic hair and her exposed vulva shiny with wetness.
Taira struggled to watch this; her bladder was surging violently within her shy, thin body, and she wanted to use a bathroom so badly she didn’t know what to do. Watching Chrissy completely pee herself in front of everyone was torture to her own bladder, and while she tried desperately to hide the agony from her pulsating, throbbing bladder from the rest of the girls, hoping and praying she could use the bathroom before something so horrid would happen to her, it was of no use: her now constant shaking and pacing were obvious. Taira, the new girl, so incredibly needed to use the girls’ room and everybody suddenly knew it. Especially Kim, who watched the thin legged, tiny blonde girl desperately pace, her bare feet tapping wildly against the hardwood gym floor, her eyes glazed with the pain from having to pee so badly but not being able to relieve herself. Taira looked quickly up at Kim, and then just as fast glanced away, fighting a stinging wave of pressure that grew within her from nowhere. Focusing, concentrating, Taira held it off, almost crying out in pain from the agony that tormented her overstretched bladder. She brushed back her shoulder length blonde hair, wishing, just wishing so badly, that she could just use the bathroom!
Amber stood a few feet away. She had been giggling while watching Chrissy pee herself, but now her own desperation was getting much more serious than even ten minutes earlier. Her body tormented her with wave after wave of stinging pressure and the gorgeous, long haired brunette needed to pee so badly she was scared she might start wetting into her shorts at any moment, and had her toned, muscular legs pressed hard together as her bladder continued to rebel inside of her tortured, desperate body. Kim glanced over at Amber, and then smiled.
“Taira, step onto the mat please,” Kim commanded, looking directly at Taira, who was by now shaking so hard she looked like she was standing on a street corner in the wintertime without a coat, the poor, extremely shy girl was on the very edge and all the girls could tell. Taira looked up and walked timidly forward, each step torture as her bladder SCREAMED inside of her, pressure built up so strongly that she thought she would start to pee right there in front of everyone. Her legs twitched, as she stood on the mats near her coach, her muscles trembling, her breathing and heart rate rapid as her bladder violently surged and pulsated within her totally desperate thin body. “Yes,” she replied meekly, hoping her coach would let her use the bathroom as she needed to go IMMEDIATELY, so urgently, or she knew she would end up peeing down her legs in her shorts. “Taira, do you have to go to the bathroom badly?” Kim asked, a serious look overtaking her face. “YES” Taira answered loudly “I need to go so bad,” she pleaded.
“Good. It’s time you learned how to hold your pee. I can’t have any more accidents costing us championships. How much longer do you think you can hold it, Taira?” Kim asked, looking directly at the new gymnast who was obviously so desperate Kim already knew the answer.
“OH GOD, I can’t hold it any longer coach, honest. I need to pee right now, Oh God, please, I need to go pee RIGHT NOW.” Taira shook violently as she spoke, a huge surge overtaking her, her body twitching, and she bent part way over as she fought through her bodies desperate signals of a totally filled, tortured bladder.
“Too Bad, Taira, because you do NOT have permission to pee. You are simply going to have to hold it” Kim commanded, looking stern. “In fact, I’d like you to drink the rest of this bottle of water I have here.” She handed the struggling gymnast a half finished bottle of water.
“NOOO, Please, NOO. I’m serious. I can’t hold my pee any longer!!!!!”
“Taira, you do NOT have permission to pee. Please drink the water, now”
“HONEST, I can’t. NOO, please, I really can’t. I have to pee SOOOO BAD, why don’t you believe me????” pleaded Taira, tears starting to come to her eyes.
“DRINK THE WATER, NOW!!” Kim screamed loudly. Everybody jumped back in surprise.
“I CAN’T. I CAN’T!!! OH GOD I CAN’T!!! PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME HOLD IT I CAN’T HONESTTTTTTT!!”
“NOW!” Kim screamed opening the bottle of water and forcing to the gymnast’s mouth.
“OH God, NOOO, please please please I HAVE TO GO PEEEEEEE SO BADDD. PLEASE JUST LET ME GO TO THE BATHROOM. HONEST, I’LL DO ANYTHING, I JUST NEED TO USE THE BATHROOOOOMMMM!!!!” Taira screamed louder, her voice hoarse, her need to urinate reaching critical, her bladder pounding relentlessly inside her tortured body, and wave after wave of pee pressure searing her with stinging pain.
“HOLD
YOUR
PEE!”
“You’re eighteen years old and an adult now, Taira, so HOLD YOUR PEE.” Kim commanded.
“but but I CAN’T HOLD IT ANY LONGER. HONEST, PLEASE, I REALLY NEED TO GO PEEEEEEEEE, PLEASSEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” she begged, her body wrenched as she spoke, muscles twitching, her bladder on the very edge of simply exploding.
“THAT DOES IT. PUNISHMENT THEN” Kim commanded. Quickly grabbing Tairas hand, she led her quickly, pulling the struggling, totally desperate gymnast along, and walked her across the gym floor to a small supply closet near the doorway they had entered. Taira stumbled and almost fell as Kim quickly tugged her along, Taira’s bladder tormenting her. Struggling, Taira peed a half second spurt into her panties, her bladder barely able to hold on, her muscles clenched. The rest of the girls followed, watching what was about to happen next. Taira was crying now, trying to hold onto her pee, embarrassed that a small wet spot had appeared on the crotch of her shorts.
“TAKE OFF YOUR SHORTS, NOW” Kim commanded. Taira looked up in utter disbelief and froze. Another small leak of pee escaped her clenched pee hole. The smallest trickle of pee ran down the inside of her right thigh, the faint yellow droplets marking her thin, smooth, too–white skin. “Whh what?” Taira replied. “Take off your shorts and stand here in your panties. You’re beginning to pee yourself and I want everyone to see you like this.” Taira couldn’t believe what was happening, but pulled down her blue shorts, exposing her light yellow mesh fabric panties. She stood there, shaking, legs slightly apart, and everybody in the gym giggled when they saw the three inch wet spot over her pee hole. The mesh fabric was slightly transparent and they all could see exactly where Taira had trimmed her pubic bush, the prickles of pubic hair often poking through the mesh of her very tight, and clinging panties. Her tummy was pressed out, full of water and her bladder was surging violently. Taira squeezed her muscles tightly, willing herself to not pee any more into her panties, and stood there, shaking, looking at Kim, who silently watched her new gymnast, standing there in only a pair of tight mesh panties and a slightly transparent sports bra, completely desperate with a few pee marks down one o f her legs. Kim walked over to the closet door and opened it. The closet was barely big enough for a single mop and basin, wish Kim pulled out and leaned against the concrete wall of the gymnasium. There wasn’t even a light in the small closet. Taira looked at Kim, wondering if she was going to be forced to have an accident into her panties and then made to mop it up in front of the other girls, and willed herself to hold her pee, no matter what. She doubled her concentration and valiantly held off another surging wave of pee pressure that mounted. Her pee hole felt like it was going to explode, and she needed to go to the bathroom worse than ever before, even worse than when her brother tied her up and tickled her until she wet herself in the basement one time. Kim looked at the gymnast and smiled.
“Taira, please get in the closet and shut the door.”
“WHAT???” Taira screamed, her heart rate suddenly racing to a frantic pace.
“Taira, I said, please get in the closet and shut the door.”
Taira screamed and started moving away. Incredibly claustrophobic, she had a history of complete nervous breakdowns and near seizure like symptoms when feeling trapped by tight spaces. Whenever she flew airplanes, she had to have prescription drugs to calm her down. She always took stairs, being completely frightened by elevators.
“Taira, GET IN THE CLOSET” Kim screamed.
“NOOOOOOOOOOO” Taira screamed, moving away. Kim took hold of the gymnast’s shoulders and started forcibly pushing her into the tiny closet, barely big enough for even a small gymnast like Taira. “NOOOOO, Oh God NOOOOOOO! NOO NOOOO nOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Taira screamed, fighting back. A burst of pee exploded from her panties, streaming down her legs as she screamed in mortal fear. Kim pushed her into the closet and then, leaning quickly against the door, shoved hard against Taira, who was fighting back with all her life. The girls who could see inside the closet saw another stream of pee violently explode from the poor girls pee hole, her panties now soaked at the crotch and a stream of urine flowing out down her thin, white thighs as she screamed and struggled. “NOOOO Oh God NOOOOO, please no no NOOOOO Oh GODDD NOOOOOOOOOO DON’T DO THIS TO MEE OHHH GODDD NOOOOO!!!!” Taira screamed, her voice breaking down in complete panic, one hand jammed into her panties to try and stem her impending accident, the other pushing against the closet door.
Kim shoved the door tight, and then locked it. A muted scream of absolute terror filled the gym as Taira went into a nervous breakdown in absolute fear. “NNNOOO noooooo nooooooooooooooooooooooo Oh Goddddd noooooo.” Her voice suddenly grew raspy and from screaming so much, suddenly Taira could scream now more, and her vocal cords rasped almost silently as she tried to scream but could not. Breaking down, she started to sob violently and uncontrollably and she realized she no longer could hold her bladders torment.
The other girls stood in fright and watched as a flowing, growing puddle of pee escaped from under the bottom edge of the closet door. The girls closest to the door could hear the faint hissing and sizzling noise as Taira completely peed into her panties while locked into the closet, pee streaming down her thin legs in flowing rivers, the hot urine cascading in sheets from her tortured, humiliated, claustrophic body.
The newest gymnast on the team wet herself in the closet, still sobbing uncontrollably, for over a minute and a half. The puddle of pee that had escaped from under the door grew to a huge four–foot puddle on the hardwood gym floor. Kim smiled and then went over and unlocked the door. Inside the tiny closet, Taira stood wedged in the corner, her eyes wide with fright, her panties completely soaked with her own urine, both of her legs shining in the harsh gymnasium light, wet with pee. Drops and a few trickles of pee fell from her mesh panties, now see through from the wetness, her entire crotch visible for all to see. Tears flowed from Taira’s eyes as rapidly as pee had flowed from her urethra earlier, and she was still shaking. Kim led her out of the closet and Taira collapsed on the floor, her back against the wall, and she continued to sob, softly this time, completely humiliated, in shock from being denied the chance to use a bathroom, and in shock from being forced to pee herself in a small closet. She looked over at Chrissy, who still sat there on the mat near the balance beam in a puddle, still crying from her own humiliation.
Kim looked at the other girls. “Well, Amber. That leaves you. What, Oh WHAT should I do with you to teach you to hold your pee?” Amber squirmed. Watching Taira pee in her panties was too much, and Amber had been struggling during Taira’s incredible ordeal. She turned and looked at her coach, legs tight together, shaking, tears welling in her own eyes as her own bladder had been pounding incessantly within her. Amber tried to talk, but couldn’t, the pain being too much. Standing there, she relaxed her legs, her thighs now a few inches apart. Realizing it was too late; Amber brushed her hand through her long dark hair and started urinating forcefully into her shorts as she looked apologetically over at Kim. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it any longer. Oh Goddddddddd” she moaned. Pee streamed down her near perfect legs, the crotch of her nylon shorts soaking wet now, streams of hot pee flowing down both of her inner thighs, a stream of hot urine splashing directly down onto the floor, a puddle quickly growing between her legs, pee running over her pretty painted toenails of her bare feet as she urinated uncontrollably into her shorts in front of the rest of the team.
Kim laughed, and then walked away back into her office. The girls stood and looked at one another. Molly, the cheerleader, suddenly yelped and started peeing into her shorts uncontrollably, crying as she did so, and was left standing there in the now empty gym as the other girls headed to the showers to clean up. After peeing into her underwear and shorts for nearly a minute, the popular cheerleader/gymnast on the squad sheepishly walked into the locker room, her shorts dripping with pee as the other girls were showering, their pee soaked panties and shorts sitting in the corner. Down the hallway, the yearbook photographer was masturbating furiously as he downloaded the images from his digital camera into his laptop, amazed at the bathroom denial, humiliation and pee torture that he had gotten to photograph that afternoon. He particularly enjoyed the pictures of the girl peeing into her shorts on the balance beam and the girl who was made to pee her pants in the closet in only her panties. He knew he’d have to hide the pictures from his editor.
Further down the hallway, after checking in at the office, Kim walked back to her office and shut the door behind her. Needing to pee extremely badly, and the excitement of watching her star gymnasts wetting themselves adding to her bladders torment, she headed back to the bathroom in her office. Stepping into the bathroom, the door still open, she changed out of her clothes, revealing only a faded, thin, worn, transparent leotard that clung tightly to her still muscular ex–gymnast body. Stepping back out, she looked in the mirror hanging on the wall next to the bathroom door, her bare feet cold against the cement floor. Glancing at the obvious strip of pubic hair that was very visible through the faded pink fabric of her leotard, she smiled. Giggling, she massaged her full tummy that was obviously bulging from all the water she had drank that afternoon, her bladder screaming inside of her. Standing legs slightly apart, right in front of the mirror, Kim began to pee into her old leotard, relaxing her struggling muscles and letting the warm urine flow out of the tight faded fabric, rivers of pee streaming down her tanned legs, the warmth exciting her as she began to urinate forcefully, the jetting stream growing stronger with each second, reaching a crescendo of sizzling, hissing noises as it sprayed from her desperate body. Her fingers drifted towards the fabric over her pee hole and she felt the hot pee exploding from within her, flooding her fingertips as she stroked up and down her most private area through the worn fabric, feeling incredibly aroused, her nipples growing quickly erect as she began to touch herself harder and stronger, all while urinating into her old gymnastics leotard from almost twelve years ago.
As she urinated uncontrollably into the clinging fabric, masturbating to the pleasure of her own hot, pent–up pee streaming down her bare legs, she never noticed the three girls hiding behind her desk who were giggling as they watched their gymnastics coach pee herself on purpose. Chrissy, Amber, and Taira looked at each other, not daring to even whisper as they listened to Kim’s pee hiss violently out of her body, sizzling through the worn fabric before flooding down her toned, tanned legs and making a huge puddle on the floor of her office. The three girls smiled. Taira’s video camera was aimed around the corner of the desk, aimed at Kim, who stood there moaning as she finished peeing into her own probing fingers. Taira giggled softly.
The tables were about to be turned.
To be continued
By: Gillian