Abigail Shearman and the Protest Potty

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Oh damn she has a shy bladder that will make things very interesting but I loved this chapter 

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Damn, what a first foray! Fantastic!

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This story is off to an excellent start. I agree with @Melificentfan that the shy bladder will make things very interesting. I'm looking forward to the second chapter.

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22 hours ago, Laurentian_ said:

Abigail pictured Bryn’s curves squeezed into a tight pair of leather pants and a ripped up band tee, bouncing up and down as she danced around in the pit. She promptly chastised herself for allowing her thoughts wander there. 

I've got to say, I like Abigail's taste. It seems she has an attraction to these other ladies, but doesn't want to admit it.

I'm enjoying the descriptions of desperation in this story. It's good to know that poor Abby isn't alone, but it doesn't make it any easier for her. Keep up the great work. This story is excellent!

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Another great chapter, can't wait to see where this goes.

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Absolutely loving this! Can't wait for the next chapter!

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On 8/5/2018 at 8:30 AM, RedFish3000 said:

This is a great story! I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.

Great job so far and I hope the conclusion is coming soon. I'm hooked!

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Sorry to bump this but just want to say this is still one of my favorite stories and I hope it's continued! 

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Chapter three is here - sorry for the wait! Work has been ridiculous, but I found some time to finish the chapter today. Hope you all enjoy!

 

Chapter 3

The next forty or so minutes seemed to take forever, but finally the bus pulled off of the highway and merged into the parking lot of a rest area. Brittany stood up immediately, one of her hands jammed between her thick legs. 

“I’m on the brink,” she told Jason. “I need to get to a toilet now!” 

“Can you hold it for a few minutes?” 

“I don’t know,” she said. She leaned into Jason’s ear. “I already leaked a little into my panties.”

The bus came to a stop and the driver opened up the doors. 

“Please, I really need to pee!” Brittany said as she pushed her way from the very back of the bus to the front of the aisle. Abigail watched her big denimed ass swing from side to side as she squeezed her way through the tight rows. She thought she could make out a small dark spot, but perhaps it was just her imagination. “Sorry, I really need to get to the toilets!” Brittany said as she pushed in front of a woman who was trying to get out. 


“You’re not the only one who needs to piss!” yelled a women near the back of the bus, but Brittany was already jumping out the door. The woman in question had jet black hair and even darker eye makeup than Brittany.  She wore a tight black camisole that revealed more breasts than Abigail was typically comfortable looking at. Too much fucking orange juice, Abigail heard her muttering to herself. The woman’s whole look was kind of gross to Abigail, too much makeup, too dark and gloomy. But yet there was something about her that lent itself to fantasizing: the all black clothing and hair, counterculture, telltale signs of a former goth. Abigail imagined what she must have been like in college, black lipstick and pale skin, alienated from social life on campus. There was just something about the idea of an unpopular girl getting bullied. Looked down on by all the pretty girls who saw her. Nothing but self-loathing shame. Mocked all the time. Maybe even mocked whenever she had to do the unspeakable, whenever she absolutely had to answer nature’s call.  When everyone could tell she was squirming through her tacky ripped jeans. Ducking desperately into bathrooms when she thought no one was around in order to do her bursting business, a filthy little outcast. Maybe almost crying when she found one of them already waiting for her in the toilets, sitting on the sink with an evil grin on her face. Maybe even struggling, arms held behind her back by a throng of preppy girls who suddenly rushed into the bathroom, forcing her to use her panties, laughing while she desperately struggled against their grip, trying everything not to piss her black lace, her too-tight spandex… 

What the fuck. Abigail caught herself mid-thought. Bathroom anxiety had a funny way of manifesting itself. What's gotten into me today? She gave a final glance to the squirming woman with the jet black hairWhat the fuck...

––––––

Brittany was the first person to get inside the bathroom from the bus. The rest area had two stalls, both of which were available. The only problem was that the stalls were much tinier than she was used to. She shuffled into the first one, and found that it was accompanied with a toilet that was much to small for her as well. She yanked down her jean shorts and her expansive panties, and then set herself to the task of fitting her enormous ass onto the tiny, cheap plastic toilet seat. She plopped down and her sizable bottom spilled off the sides. She shifted around, desperate to get comfortable in the cramped quarters of the stall. The plastic seat shifted around, a screw was loose, or else her bottom snapped the hinge. She would have to make do. Her bladder was a swollen water balloon of piss

Whenever she had to go this badly, she would always remember her time as a freshman back at her small Midwestern college, back when she would down gallons of cheap beer at the Delta frat house, where the only bathroom was a gross, piss-covered set of stalls in the basement, where the line of young, bursting women always extended out the door, bladders pushed to capacity with boxed wine and gas station beer. She would stay on the dance floor,  grinding up against whoever was there with her massive ass until she absolutely couldn’t hold it anymore. She couldn't wait for the line. So she went behind the house, squatting in an alley next to whoever was smoking cigarettes and lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Those had been difficult holds. 

But right here, in the rest stop bathroom, this might have been worse. In an instant, pee gushed out of her, liters of iced-tea liquid built up over the two hours on the bus. The bathroom echoed with the sound of her pee hitting the water. 

Brittany heard the bathroom door swing open, followed by the quick, high-strung steps that could only belong to a Type A woman on a strict bladder schedule that demanded utter restraint. The type of women who held it for hours on end up until the designated time, a bladder that demanded immediately relief as soon she reached her 5 minute block scheduled as a “Serenity Break” in her phone calendar. The kind of woman who would sit legs crossed with perfect grace in her cubicle, obsessive and determined to master her body, waiting for the telltale beep from her phone to signal that at last it was time for her allotted relief. A wealthy business woman who still participated in protest, a remnant of her college days. At least, that’s what Brittany got from the fast, hard footsteps of the women in question. The stall door opened and slammed shut, followed by a powerful stream. No sighs from the Type A, but Brittany could imagine the relief spread across her uptight face. 

The door to the bathroom swung open again, and again, and suddenly it was filled with skinny-jeaned double-crossed legs, a busload of punks who despite their rebellious spirit could not avoid the physics of small bladders and large coffees. Charli was among them, red hair bobbing up and down with her body. 

There were shuffling legs. And tapping shoes. Frantic little taps, occasionally punctuated by a little moan. Then the knocking on the stall doors began. 

“I’m almost done, don’t rush me!” Brittany called out, as her stream continued full-force.

“I’ve really gotta go, please hurry, I really don’t wanna wet myself!” The rest of the cramped bathroom called out in agreement. 

––––––––

Bryn waited outside the rest area, propped up against the wall with a lit Parliament in between her fingertips, her bleach blonde hair set off against her black leather pants and jacket. If she needed a toilet, it was obvious to no one. 

Meanwhile, Abigail saw the droves of women heading to the bathroom and resolved to stick to her plan. Crossing her legs, she grabbed a soft pretzel from the counter. But she was feeling unusually hungry, and decided to grab a large hotdog as well. There was a sign that read Weekend Special, Large Fries FREE With Every Hotdog Purchase, so she grabbed one of those as well.

“Want a drink with all that food? All that salt’s gonna make you thirsty”, remarked the check-out girl. 

The idea of another drop of liquid entering her already bursting bladder made Abigail squirm. But the coffee had dehydrated her. Plus she didn’t want to have to whine about being thirsty once she got to the protest, that wasn’t much better than needing a potty break. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Abigail replied. “Can I get a Sprite?”

“Sure. Upgrade to large for only a quarter more?”

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

The check-out girl filled up Abigail’s drink, which was larger than she had imagined, and swiped her credit card. Abigail immediately sunk her teeth into the pretzel, and walked over to the candy aisle right beside the bathrooms. She began sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye whenever the door swung open, trying to gauge how long they’d have. 

Bryn called over to her. “That food looks good. I think I’m gonna follow your lead.”

“You should!” Abigail told her. She watched Bryn walk up to the counter and order the same thing.  

Even her walk looks cooler than me. How the fuck to some girls do that. 

There was a line outside the bathroom door, and every so often it swung open, so that Abigail could see the two occupied stalls and the crossed legs waiting on the other side of them. Slowly, women began to emerge from the bathroom, with looks of relief spread across their face. Apparently she had not been the only one who’d overhydrated that morning. 

But after a solid ten minutes, the line had disappeared into the bathroom. The desperate knocking and urging of the women in line had picked up the pace, with women peeing as quickly as possible to avoid the anger of the desperate women who were waiting.

The busdriver stuck his head in the door of the rest area. “Five minutes till we ship out.” It was now or never. Abigail ducked into the bathroom and found that there was only one girl in front of her.  Thank goodness. The first stall opened and the girl shot in. Then, the sound of a flush. The other stall opened up, and before she knew it she was on the toilet with her jeans around her legs and her panties down. 

I’ve gotta go so badly. Please please let me pee. 

Abigail concentrated as hard as she could. She tried to imagine she was in a quiet bathroom all alone. There was a faucet dripping in the bathroom from a girl who hadn’t tightened the handles all the way. She focused on the drip, drip, drip, the pressure in her bladder mounting… 

The door swung open. Within seconds, there was a pounding on both of the stalls. 

“I’ve been drinking all morning and I’m about to explode, one of you better get the fuck out of there so I can piss!”

From the other stall, a weak voice replied, “Sorry I’m feeling super light headed from the drive. I don’t wanna leave the toilet until I absolutely have to.”

The pounding shifted completely to Abigail’s door.  

“Hey you! What’s the hold up? I just downed two Millers in the parking lot. I've gotta go NOW.

Abigail didn’t know what to say. Her bladder was screaming for release, but nothing was happening.

“The bus is about to leave! I’m on the verge of an explosion here, get the FUCK out of there!”

Abigail jumped and yanked up her pants. She unlocked the stall and the women pushed her out of the way. The woman sat down without closing the door and immediately began to gush. Abigail practically sprinted out of the bathroom. Her heart was racing. She hadn’t ever been yelled at like that by someone in public, much less, never, in regards to…

She found her seat beside Bryn and Charli. If they said something to her she didn’t notice. Within minutes, everyone was on the bus and they were back on the highway. But Abigail didn’t even register the bus pulling out of the parking lot. Her mind was filled with sound of pounding knocks and shaking metal partitions that sounded like they might collapse with one more good hit. 

“Are you alright?” Charli asked. Abigail snapped back to reality. Charli sounded like she’d already asked the question once before. 

“Yeah I’m fine sorry!” she quickly replied. “I totally just blanked out there for a second. Not enough sleep I guess!”

Charli and Bryn didn’t look convinced, but neither girl said anything. Abigail breathed a sigh of relief. But this was followed by a sharp jolt in her bladder, reminding her of the urgent matter of business she had failed to attend to. 

It was impossible to ignore at this point. Every passing thought brought her back to pee. Every billboard advertisement mocked her with the thought of a clean, single stall bathroom. She needed to a potty desperately. 

Two more hours. I can make two more hours, Abigail thought to herself. 

A passing billboard showed a woman downing a bubbly Coke. Abigail shut her eyes and pressed her legs together. 

End of Part 3


 

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