The Bully

This story is one of my fantasies (based on some fact) but is not meant to be in any way disrespectful to the very real problem of bullying in schools.
Making my way to the ladies’ room I saw them, three girls standing in the hall, their uniforms the same as mine, but that’s where the similarity ended. My name is Mary. I attended my local school, but even at 18 I was still being bullied– by Heather and her two cronies.
I had refused to give them any money or CDs and they wanted to push me. Heather called me over and I went timidly pulling my blazer over my dark blue pleated skirt (ballerina length) and white blouse.
Suddenly I had a thought. Anything is better than the insults and pain so I increased my leg movements and said in a nervous voice “I’m really sorry Heather, I’ll pay next time.” She glared at me, her lovely cold eyes taking me in. “Can’t we do this later, I want to go in there, we have algebra.”
Heather was about to allow me through when June said, “She’s a senior, Heather. Remember that Prefect that almost made you pee your panties last year?” Heather flushed and then seemed to notice my discomfort. “I think we would be remiss in hurting you Mary, let’s get on. Hurry, you don’t want to be late!” She guided me from the ladies’ room. I stammered and said, “It’s double algebra, and I need to go before class!”
“Quiet!” she snapped. “You will hold it until I say, or would you rather be hurt?” I looked downcast but inside I was smiling. The only down side was that I really did have to go.
Heather held me across the shoulders as we walked; her hair smelled of pine trees, then she broke contact at the door to the class, but gently. I took my seat, aware of my need while crossing my legs and taking the chance to lean forward when smoothing my skirt. A double period of algebra meant two sessions of 40 minutes. This was going to be uncomfortable but I have been desperate before– like what girl hasn’t?
Time passed while Claire and June giggled as my leg crossing became more pronounced. The nervous tension of the situation was taking a toll and I was getting antsy. That was how I spent the first period, fidgeting and trying to work. Finally the bell rang and Miss Campbell said, “Ok, anyone who wants to go to the toilet can go now, but be back in five minutes.” I let my hands fall into my lap and pushed down as I got up.
Heather caught my eye and she simply glanced at my chair. I arranged my skirt and retook my seat, slowly crossing my legs and chewing my lip. No acting now, I really needed to go to the bathroom. Claire and June giggled and said under their breath, “Does baby need to leave the room? Please Miss, can I be excused?” They were horrible, but Heather moved her lovely red hair and gave me a look of sympathy, I thought.
The next 20 minutes were agony. I squirmed and danced trying not to let anyone know I was nearly wetting myself since I was afraid to go to the ladies’. After another few minutes with my hand pressed into my lap I had to ask. I went to raise my hand. Heather glared at me but with a half smile and I lowered my tentative hand.
I tried to wait some more but started to get very scared, I’m 18, I can’t just pee in my uniform. Looking at Heather, she just shrugged. Raising my hand I asked to leave the room, thankfully the teacher said yes. Heather, quick as a flash said, “Me too, miss” and followed. In the corridor, Heather lead me to the stairs. “What about the ones on this floor?” I blurted out, by now I was crossing my legs every few feet.
Heather put her arm around me and we sat on a bench, as there were a number of these littered around the school dedicated to this and that. I found myself leaning into her. We sat for a minute or so with me leaning against Heather while my squirming turned into a rigid gentle rocking. Finally she said “come on and lead me to the ladies,” which were thankfully on the same floor and she stopped just inside the door. Moving from foot to foot I said, “Please heather I’m going to…” She looked sad and stepped back. I stopped left hand pressing hard between my legs through my skirt. She was looking at the floor, her eyes hooded by her full lashes. Shivering with need I went over to her. “What?” I said. “You let me hug you!” I smiled and curtsied. She took my hand and said, “Go to the toilet, then go home, I’ll tell the others that you got wet.” I made to go to the cubical but turned around. “Heather,” she looked up and I came forward and kissed her. She fell back a few feet with her hand pressing between her legs as she needed to go a bit too, “what are you…”
I leant on the sink and held myself again. Heather recovered and grabbed me and kissed me hard as hard as Peter White had at the school dance. I was smiling when she stopped and I said “this in the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, but I really must pee now!”
It was at this point when June came in. Thinking quickly I said, “Pretend to tickle me!” Heather recovered quickly and put her hands to my sides, “no hurting, just tickling, how bad is that?” she growled.
June came forward and took over. She was not kidding as Heather had been, so I begged her to stop and crouched on the floor crying. I could not hold it any longer (I was almost dribbling back when I was talking to Heather) and broke free, making for the cubical. Suddenly I started to go. Not just dribbles and spurts but full on. I just froze, hand on my crouch, piss pouring down my legs through my clothes. Strangely the only thing I could see was Heather now had started fidgeting her legs in the way I had about a half hour before. I was soaked and dripping. The teacher was called and I was lead in shame to the school nurse. They sent someone to take me home– it was Heather. She smiled and moved from foot to foot.
“I have to take you home,” she said. Heather’s skirt was shorter cut than mine and it was clear she had not yet gotten to pee since my accident some 30 minutes ago. “So, come on, the bus is due!”
The bus was 10 minutes late. Heather never went to the loo until she got to my place, sort of…
Karen