An Excerpt from a Real Accident

When I went to high school, students respected their teachers a little more, and as a general rule did as they were told when the teachers were looking. Further more, we didn’t have all of these long breaks between classes. We had exactly five minutes between classes to do our personal business whether that was getting to the next class, meeting with our friends briefly, going to our locker to change books, or using the bathroom. Well, I remember that our school was a large one, and my PE class was on one side of the school while my Science class was on the other side and upstairs! To make matters worse, sometimes teachers had the right to hold an entire class after the bell for two minutes if that class was noisy during instruction time. That would only give us 3 minutes to get from one side to another in school.
I was brought up to respect the rules. I was never late to class without a good reason, and I never questioned the teachers when they said to do something. Sure, I wasn’t perfect. I sometimes didn’t do my homework, and would find a quiet way to rebel if I didn’t like something about a teacher, but I never openly showed any teacher disrespect even if I didn’t like them. I just went to their class, did the class work as assigned, and left to the next class. I was also a very quiet student who always tried to sit in the back, away from the notice of teachers and other students. I liked being in my own little world at that time. It made it easier to get to class on time because I didn’t have friends to meet in the hallways to make me late.
Anyway, I arrived at school one morning during my senior year, just as the first bell rang to let everyone know to go to class, so I had to hurry to my locker, drop my things off, then run to the P.E. class, change clothes, and get out onto the floor. I felt the need to use the bathroom at that time, but it wasn’t bad. I could wait.
We went through the warm up exercises, played flag football (co–ed), and walked around the gym to cool down. As I was walking around the gym, I noticed that some of the boys were playing with some of the equipment that we were supposed to leave alone. The gym teacher whistled for us to stop, and to sit in our squads. As we were sitting in our squads, some of the boys had not yet calmed down from their excitement, and were talking and not paying attention. This kind of mayhem spread like fire to other students until it seemed that no one was paying attention. The PE teacher just stood there watching us. The bell rang, and the PE teacher told us to sit there.
“Now you can hear what I wanted to tell you on your time because you didn’t want to calm down during class!”
Some of the students groaned, but we sat there waiting for him to tell us not to use the gym equipment when we were not supervised or instructed in the proper usage beforehand. Then he also told us something about a charity race that the school was running. Those that participated would receive extra credit in PE, but I could not participate because I had to walk my younger sister home from elementary school. The two schools were not very far away. At eighteen, I was nearing graduation anyway, and didn’t need any extra PE credit.
As he droned on for a couple of minutes, I felt my bladder getting full, but I waited as a good girl would. We then went to change to our regular school clothes, and ran for the next class. I didn’t have time to stop by the toilet because just as I sat in my chair in Science class, the bell rang. We were not supposed to be running in the halls, but no one noticed, and I had to run to make it to class on time! I was still able to wait, but I could feel my bladder filling up as class went on. Halfway into the class, as we were studying about the effects of sunlight on plants, and something about chlorophyll, I started to have to go badly. I could no longer concentrate on the class. First, I shifted my right leg over my left and pressed down hard. I didn’t want anyone to notice that I had to go because it would be embarrassing if everyone knew how bad I wanted to go, and then especially if the teacher said no.
About ten minutes before the bell rang, the teacher was just about to give the homework assignment for the day when I could no longer wait. I raised my hand and motioned for her to come to me. She nodded and wrote the homework assignment on the board before coming in my direction.
“Please, Mrs. Carnivalle, I really want to use the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.” was her reply. “You know that you are not to go during class, and anyway there is only a few minutes before the end of class. I am sure that you can wait a few minutes.”
It took longer to copy it because I was constantly stopping to press my knees together and fidgeting, doing everything I could to wait.
The bell rang. I ran to the girls’ room to find that every stall was being used, and there was an enormous line. I still had to get to my locker to get my math book and homework. I ran to the locker. My fidgeting made getting the locker open a difficult task, and I had to start over three times before the stupid thing finally relented, and allowed me to retrieve my math book. I ran for the toilets once more to find that the lines had barely moved. I ran looking for another bathroom, but a teacher came out of the door and informed me not to go running around in the halls– that the bell was about to ring. I should hurry to class if I didn’t want to be late. I walked quickly until her back was turned, then I ran to math class slipping into my seat just as the bell rang!
I raised my hand as soon as the teacher stood up.
“Yes, Kate?”
“I would like to use the bathroom, please.”
“You just came in. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.”
“I know, but I can’t wait. I tried to go during recess, but the bathrooms were full of girls.”
“I’m sorry, but if I allow you to go, I will have to let everyone go, and that is against the school policy. You had five minutes– there is no reason that you should not have enough time to go unless you were talking to your friends in the hall. If that was the case, then you deserve your fate.”
My legs wouldn’t stay still for a moment in fear of really embarrassing myself with an accident right in the classroom. I could feel tears come to my eyes, but I just wiped them away. I would not WET my pants! I was too old for that!
A few minutes into the class, I began to feel a little comfortable, and it seemed that the urgency that was there a few minutes before was gone. For now, anyhow. I worked for a good fifteen or twenty minutes until the urgency came back with a vengeance. I could feel my bladder swelling up, and tightened my sphincter muscles that were straining to keep dry. I was doing everything possible to wait, and because it was so bad, I made a lot of noise from scooting my chair and bouncing my knees up and down, making the old desk squeak. Some of the boys and girls started to look in my direction. The teacher stood up and walked over to me.
“No, I really need to pee.” I could barely breath the words out, and then it happened. I felt a hot jet of yellow staining pee slip past my tightened muscles and into my pants.
“Please, I’m GOING TO WET MY PANTS!”
Everyone turned to look into my teary, red face. I was really scared that now only would I wet, but everyone would also know about it. I pressed myself with my hands, and wobbled as the teacher finally took out a pass to go to the toilet. I waited with anticipation as my tight muscles failed to stop a second and third hot squirt of pee. I could feel my panties getting damp, and the backs of my thighs were wet.
“Go ahead, Kate, and come right back”
I took the pass and stood up, but…
Oh no, some more escaped into my pants. I could feel my pants starting to press around my butt and vagina with a wet warmness. I knew that it would soon be a disaster! I ran for the door, jerked it open, and flew down the hall with pee running down my legs and into my shoes. As I finally opened a stall door, and tore my pants down, I saw the damage. I sat on the toilet and peed for a long time. I stared at my yellowed white cotton panties, and at the small wet spot in my pants. As I finished, I stood up, and pulled my uncomfortable, cooling panties and pants up. I pulled my pants to the front to see how noticeable it was. I was relieved to find that it wasn’t so noticeable from the front, but what about the back? I turned to look at the back of my pants. My butt was a little wet, but maybe not real bad. Maybe no one would notice.
I went back to class, and no one even mentioned it. If anyone noticed it, no one told me all day. When I finally got home, I changed my pants and washed them so that nobody could possibly know what happened.
Kate