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The country's Cinderella story at the recent Olympic Games shook the entire nation, it's citizens witnessing a pivotal moment in their country's history  their first ever Gold. The medal, an upset win in the Men's 100m Butterfly event, suddenly generated waves of interest in the sport, exhibited by the sudden spike in traffic at swimming pools across the nation. Coupled with the semester break holidays, everywhere was packed.

While "everywhere" may have been an exaggeration, said observation was at least true for the pool Kyra was at, based on what she could see. Sitting atop an elevated chair, she had a bird's eye view of the sudden spike in attendance  there were much more people out and about. Coaches were revelling in an influx of revenue as little children lined the pool walls, their parents either caught up in conversations with each other, swimming alongside their offspring or just generally minding their own businesses, glued to a screen or silently observing the lesson. The Olympic-sized pool next to it was also similarly filled, with adolescents and teenagers doing laps under a watchful eye and a stopwatch on one side, and elderly people swimming considerably slower than they were likely imagining themselves to be on another.

Kyra took her eyes off the pool momentarily as she swept away beads of sweat accumulating on her temples, the long sleeves of her yellow rashguard a significantly different shade as it wiped off hours of continuous sweat. In fact, the staff-issued rashguard, firmly wrapped around her torso, was only dry where it stretched over the one-piece competition swimsuit she had on beneath, outlining the suit, which was equally drenched in sweat from the torso up, its fire engine red dye discoloured from the sweat. The skin-tight swimsuit's fit further dug into her skin, inciting reactionary squirms from time to time. Such is life in the tropics  where sweltering, humid heat was the daily weather forecast for the entire day, irregardless of the time of year. She subconsciously grabbed her bottle, preparing to rehydrate herself from all the fluids lost under the tropical heat, but hesitated and returned it to its original position upon noticing the time. There was still three hours until the end of her shift, and Management had specifically told them that they weren't allowed to leave their posts for whatever reason unless another lifeguard could take over, with the only exceptions being when in the midst of saving someone or being called over. Due to the unusually high traffic this time around, it appeared, from her perspective, that every other colleague on her shift had their hands full as well.

This was bad news for Kyra, who was appearing distinctly more uncomfortable as time passed by. While hydration was of utmost importance, especially given the atrocious weather, she hadn't taken into account the by-product of doing so, and the excess amounts of fluids was beginning to build up. While it wasn't at a critical stage as of yet, she wanted to keep it as low as possible. Giving into thirst and taking small sips from the bottle, she began toying with random things within her reach, anything from playing with her whistle, examining the split ends of her hair, which was neatly bunched into a ponytail, and her locker key, which hung loosely around her bony wrist from a hairband, to bending the rim of her cap and even scrolling through social media on her phone(Management allowed it, as long as it didn't inhibit employees' ability to do their job), anything to keep her mind off her current predicament.

Needless to say, there were other issues inhibiting Kyra's ability to do her job, her concentration gradually waning as commitments and needs both wrestled for her attention. She guiltily knocked back a gulp out of dehydration, only to instantaneously regret it as her bladder protested against the entry of additional liquids, her desperation amplified as the skin-tight swimsuit barricaded it from expanding, instead further constricting it and worsening her predicament. It didn't help that her phone's battery went flat, and everyone was being safe and responsible in the pool, meaning that she had nothing else to focus on other than the dam that was swelling up inside her, its walls weakened and cracked from the immense pressure of the river it held back. Digging a hand into her crotch and clamping her legs shut, she reinforced the dam's structural integrity as she tried to formulate a plan to allow her to leave for the toilets, all the while trying to look as calm and as stoic as possible. She was, after all, in full view of everyone, and attracting unwanted attention was the last thing she needed.

She couldn't just drop everything and go; not only would she be violating the rules she had to abide to as a lifeguard, but it would also be rather irresponsible to leave an entire pool unattended just to relieve herself. However, as aforementioned, it appeared that no other colleague was free to take over either, nor was she close enough to any of them, both physically and socially, to be able to get them to take over for her, even for just a short while, and with two full hours left in her shift, the probability of holding it until her shift was over was close to zero. By now, both her hands were jammed into her crotch, in a desperate attempt to hold it in. Her dam was about to blow; its walls lined with structural cracks and the reinforcements barely keeping it together. Her sweat considerably dropped in temperature as she attempted to keep the bottom half of her body dry.

Just then, Kyra found a glimmer of hope  a colleague walking in her direction! She flailed her arms about, hoping to capture the attention of the unsuspecting passer-by, and find herself some relief. However, no sooner had she moved her arms away from her crotch than she felt a feeling spread in the same location. The feeling of futility, of embarrassment, and of warmth as the dam finally burst, its walls too weakened to obstruct the torrential wave that had built up inside of her. In disbelief and denial, Kyra sent her left hand down to investigate, her face almost immediately flushing in reaction to the warm liquid that was continuously spilling out of her crotch, her fingers confirming that she, indeed, was having an accident in public, on the job and atop a high chair, in view of everyone, no less. The golden liquid fell through gaps in-between the metal planks that made up the chair, showering down and pooling into a puddle below. Kyra kept a poker face as her bladder continued to empty itself, thankful that the loud, crowded chatter muted the otherwise deafening sounds of liquid splattering onto the ground, and that nobody appeared to have been aware of her public accident.

After an eternity later, all liquids backed up in her system had finally been purged out, and any sense of relief was quickly overwhelmed by embarrassment. Gingerly prying her thighs apart, she was devastated to find that her crotch was soaked all the way up the gusset, the soiled red lycra darkened and stained with a faint yellow tinge that extended up to her bladder. She couldn't examine exactly how waterlogged her rear was, but she was, unfortunately, confident that it was just as bad, if not worse. A familiar scent wafted around, a dead giveaway of what just occurred.

Sighing, Kyra proceeded to establish her current predicament in her head — she was now stuck up atop a chair, soaked in sweat and urine. Her shift wouldn't end until a few hours later, meaning she'd have to endure sitting around in saturated swimwear, its bright colours only serving to project her accident out for the entire pool to witness. The nearest showers were located across the pool, and she'd have to walk a fair distance, with her accident in plain sight, to get there. And to top it all off,

She needed to pee again.

_______________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading my second story all the way until the end! As always, messing on my writing constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated.

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On 12/10/2017 at 5:16 AM, JZshark said:

I loved it! Love the competitive swimsuit wetting, love the setting! The story was wonderful.

 

On 12/10/2017 at 12:30 AM, Melificentfan said:

That was so good 

Thanks for the inputs!

On 12/10/2017 at 5:16 AM, JZshark said:

If anything could be added it would be a little bit more prolonged desperation into the wetting.

To be honest, I thought that the story was becoming too draggy (~1.3k words), and was worried that any more descriptive paragraphs would end up boring the reader out. I'll try to factor this in the next time I end up writing.

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Favorite story in a long time. The red swimsuit with the pee stained crotch is so sexy.

When I was younger and lived at the beach I saw more than a few women wet themselves in a one piece swim suit. They were all pretty casual about it and just acted as though it was no big deal. To them it may not have been, but it certainly was for me.

Never saw a women pee in a red one piece though.

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