I drank two glasses of coffee before coming to work, instead of my usual one, because I had a nervous and sleepless night. I wanted to make sure that I was awake for my first day. Now I was starting to regret that extra cup of coffee.
I always take the train and the bus to go to work and that day wasn’t any different. It was morning and beginning to get bright outside when I had to leave for work.
Arriving at the train station I saw that I had to wait an extra 10 minutes with the usual ride taking at least a good 25 minutes.
I was starting to think that it that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. I was stuck on the platform in a bad situation, having waited too long and drunk too much coffee.
I was continually looking at my watch and nervously walking around, while occasionally sending messages to my friend. I was looking around to see if other people who might have noticed my problem, though I was still able to hide it.
When the train was announced I couldn’t stay still. I was almost dancing on the spot and so was very happy to hear the news so that no one would notice me there.
The train was not very full but not empty either. I sat down and tried to concentrate on the view outside. But it wasn’t easy and when the train went faster, the track was bumpy and the vibrations weren’t helpful; they had a very bad effect on me, every bump gave me the feeling that the liquid was working down.
In those conditions it was impossible for me to sit still. But some people were sitting in front of me making it difficult to move a lot.
So I had no choice; if I couldn’t move it would come out. I pushed my behind back in the seat and bent forward but it didn’t help. I was now slipping from side to side in my seat and I was very anxious that people could see me so I decided to go and search for another seat where I would be less visible.
Sitting there made it impossible to hide anything. I was bent over forward the entire time, squirming around. I shifted my feet, feeling the pressure building in my bladder. When someone would pass my seat I had to stop each time and hope that they would quickly go away instead of sitting down in back of me because it would be very embarrassing for me to squirm while sitting in the front of someone.
Five minutes before arriving at my station I couldn’t hold on anymore. I definitively had drunk too much. And now what could I do? I seriously thought about water, a toilet, finding a little place to go, but no, I was determined to try to get to work. So I had to use my hands to avoid wetting in public.
Arriving at my station, it was very difficult to stand up and also very hard to walk while trying to hide everything. While walking I sometimes put one of my hands down and pushed deeply into my pocket. The bus station was right next to the train station, but I had to wait about five minutes because the driver was running late.
Then there where no free seats; I was in a very bad situation. I absolutely couldn’t stay still and I couldn’t find a place to go in emergency! I was sweating; standing there with my legs clamped together, one over the other and my jacket pulled down to hide the sight of holding myself using both hands!
I was in agony when the bus arrived. I went in and had a bad surprise, for there was a girl I knew. I was just thinking ‘Oh no what I am going to do now?’ She was sitting on the left side on the bus, so I sat down on the right side but in the row behind her to keep a seat between us.
She started a discussion, but I can’t even remember it anymore, I had bigger worries to care about at that moment. I was bent forward, both hands between my legs and moving from side to side. The whole time, moving in the same way the bus moved so to hide it.
I was also thinking, â€˜I should get out at the next stop and avoid having an accident.â€™ I thought that at every stop. The girl was still talking to me but I was just replying yes, no, or maybe in a hesitating voice.
I began to not even care anymore about whether or not she would notice my struggling, it was just important to me to get to work dry!
But I was losing hope that I could make it. I almost lost control of my bladder. I had to quickly shove my hands into my crotch to avoid losing control and wetting myself right there. I did another big pee dance and squeezed my crotch. It was the only way to keep control of my urine. I could feel my body pulsating. I was going to lose control. I was going to wet my pants. There was nothing I could do.
My bladder pulsed violently. Suddenly I felt a trickle penetrating through the nylon. I let out a small spurt into my sheer black pantyhose, but quickly regained control.
My tortured bladder let out another squirt, a longer one this time. I felt it run down my legs and drench my pants. It was a matter of time now. A complete wetting accident was moments away.
Another squirt; my pants were wet down to the knees. My bladder experienced some relief and wanted to fully dispose its long-held water. I had been holding for too long. I could not force my body to hold so much liquid for so long.
And then, the long, painful battle was over. The dam burst. Pee cascaded out of me and there was no stopping it. There was no hiding the fact that I was wetting myself. The pee poured over my hand, wetting my pants from the outside as well as the inside. I peed uncontrollably for what seemed like hours with my body trembling with heavenly relief. I soaked my pants and sheer pantyhose.
I felt my cheeks burning with the shame of it as the wet warmth spread ever more down my legs. I watched in horrified fascination, as the dark stain of the pee grew ever more over the material of my pants.
As I shifted my feet gently, I could feel my toes squelching about in the silky fabric of my pantyhose. My pants clung uncomfortably to my pee-drenched skin, but the warm feeling in my pantyhose, around my behind and private parts, was oddly comforting and prevented me from breaking down entirely.
I looked down at myself and almost screamed. My pants were soaked all down the front and most of the back of my legs. My crotch and behind were all saturated. I carefully pulled the pee soaked material away from my legs, but it just clung right on back. I unzipped my soaked pants, undid the belt, and slipped them off, along with my soaked sheer pantyhose.
Now all I had to hide my humility were my black pantyhose, and they weren’t doing the job too successfully as I could feel the damp fabric rode up into my behind and clung firmly to my private parts.
As I finished, I realized I was in trouble with no spare clothes or way out of being noticed going into the building, soaking wet.
I never felt so humiliated.