Jenny's Desperate Dilemma

I had been manager of a fast food restaurant for about 9 months when this incident occurred. Jenny was 18 and had recently graduated highschool. She was working the summer in my restaurant to earn money for collage and was planning to continue to work for me as the collage she intended to attend was in our town. She had been working there for a couple of years while in highschool and had developed into one of my prize employees. She was bright, friendly, pretty and very efficient, basically the kind of employee everyone likes to have working for them. As with most evenings, Jenny was working the one and only cash register, taking orders, taking payment and making sure the customer got the right order. By 7:30 or so the evening rush was over and most of my employees had gone home. I was now left with a core crew of 4 people including Jenny to finish the night out. As things were quiet, with just the occasional customer or two, I went back to my office to catch up on paperwork and put in my order for food delivery the next morning. As I worked on scheduling and the food order, there came a knock on my door. It was Jenny and she was looking worried. She asked if she could talk to me for a second and I told her sure, come on in. After entering my office she looked out into the back room and shut the door. She stood there fidgeting for a few seconds kind of bouncing around an rocking. The first thing that came to my mind was that she had discovered she had made some sort of error at the cash register and was trying to find the words to tell me. All of a sudden she said “can you help me, I have to go to the bathroom.” I told her I could and stood up to go watch her register, thinking that was what she needed. She stopped me and said no, you don’t understand, I have to go to the bathroom and I can’t. Then with tears welling up in her eyes and a very red face she stated that her zipper was stuck and she could not get her slacks down. The store had a uniform consisting of a shirt and slacks along with black rubber sole shoes. In Jenny’s case, she always looked good in her slacks as they were nice and tight, but not so tight as to look tacky. Please she pleaded, you have got to get my zipper unstuck, NOW! I told her to wait there and went up front to have some one else watch the register for a few minutes. When I returned to my office, Jenny was standing there cross legged, with one hand in her crotch, bent over and bouncing around. I sat down and she immediately stepped right in front of me and pulled her the cover to the front fly of her slacks aside. It was apparent what had happened, a piece of her shirt tail was sticking out of her zipper, right at the top, not allowing for any loosing of the zipper at all. She unbuttoned the button on her pants and begged me again to please hurry and get her zipper unstuck, as she had to pee. I grabbed the top of her slacks and tugged at the zipper. Nothing, It was not going to move that way. I asked her if she could slide the slacks down and she said she didn’t think so. I told her lets try and grabbed each side of her pants leg at her hips. I managed to tug the slacks down an inch or two and that was all. To make matters worse, this tightened the pant around her bladder and she moaned, and told me to stop or I will pee myself. She quickly pulled the pants back up to where they were. She now was almost crying, with one hand between her legs, rocking and bouncing around right in front of me. She looked at me and said hurry, please hurry, I can’t wait much longer. I told her the only thing I could do was to try pliers, but that I might ruin the shirt or slacks. She said she didn’t care, just get the damn zipper down before she peed all over. I got the pliers from the tool box I kept in my office and tried to pull the zipper down. Every time I tried, the waist band would slip from my fingers as the zipper was really stuck. I told her the only way I was going to be able to do this was to put on hand inside her pants top so I could get a good hold on them. She didn’t even hesitate, but said told me for Gods sake do it, as she was about to piss herself. I carefully slid my hand in the top of her slacks right above and next to the zipper. As I did so I could tell that she was not exaggerating her desperation. Her bladder pushed against the back of my hand like a rock made of granite. The pressure of my hand against her bladder must have been shear torture for Jenny as she bent over and said please be careful, that hurts so much. If you push at all, I am going to wet my pants. I pulled out on the slacks to ease the pressure as best I could and tried again to no avail. All of a sudden Jenny franticly told me to stop and clamped both hand over her crotch, crossing her legs and began to rock and bounce like mad. I tried to pull my hand out and she told me not to move or she would pee. After about 15 or 20 seconds of this she managed to get her bladder under a little more control and told me to please, please hurry, she couldn’t wait any longer. I gave the zipper one last try. Suddenly the shirt tail gave and the zipper sprang open all the way to the bottom. As it did so my hand bumped Jenny’s bladder and she fell backward onto the floor. When she landed I heard her go oomph and then the only sound was the hissing of all her pent up pee flooding her pants and onto the floor. She just sat there, crying and pissing; pissing and crying. She peed for at least a minute before she finally stopped. The entire tile floor in my office was covered with pee as it went everywhere. She got up and looked at me and said, what am I gonna do, I can’t work like this and I can’t go home yet because I lent my brother my car. He’s supposed to pick me up after I get off work. I told Jenny I was sorry, and she told me it wasn’t my fault. She said if I hadn’t tried to help her she would have peed her pants anyway cause there was no way she was going to get that zipper down. I told Jenny to wait there a minute and went up front to survey the store. Only one customer in the restaurant and no one at the drive through. I told my three remaining employees that I was going to run Jenny home for a couple of minutes and would be right back. To save her any great embarrassment I told them she slipped while getting some more drink cups from the back and blew out the entire rear end of her pants. Cathy giggled and said I better take her home, cause Jenny sure couldn’t work that way. Cathy and Jenny were friends and what I didn’t know at that point was that Jenny only wore thongs and Cathy was picturing Jenny’s bare ass sticking out of her pants. I took Jenny to my car and when she saw the cloth seats she said she couldn’t ride in my car, she would ruin the seat. I told her not to worry, she was a more valuable employee to me than my seat and to just get in. She said wait a second and with the passenger door open to shield herself, slipped here soaked pants off. It was then that I too discovered that she wore not only thongs, but the tinniest of thongs and still be able to call them panties. The pee had got them wet and they were now virtually see through. And for the first time I discovered that Jenny also had a very small trim. As we drove to her house, I mentioned again that I was very sorry for what had happened. Jenny again told me to forget it, that it wasn’t my fault. I told Jenny the explanation that I gave to the other employees and she giggled and said thanks, she could live with that. I told her Cathy seemed to find it funny and she agreed that she probably did as she always wore thong underwear and she was sure Cathy was going to kid her about it. I told her I hoped that the story didn’t embarrass her to much and she just laughed and said how could it, I just peed all over your office, in front of you and now I am sitting here in my underwear. Why I don’t know, because they sure don’t cover much now. A story like that is sure better than having every one know I wet my pants at work. We got to Jenny’s, she changed quickly and we returned to work. Jenny and I never quite looked at each other the same way after that. It seemed that to Jenny, now there was nothing too embarrassing to tell me and we became good friends, not just boss and employee. And as for Jenny, I learned that this was not the only time she had a bladder problem. But that’s another story………
PP Watcher