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Kayn

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Kayn last won the day on September 20 2020

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  1. By all means, feel free to use any of my other stories if you wish, I certainly don't mind whatsoever. Excited to see your future works!
  2. Thanks WiiGuy! Your appreciation is always great to see, and it means a lot coming from a talented writer like you! Oh yeah for sure, poor Carol! Certainly an interesting idea to write it from her perspective, though I can't make any promises that I'll do it. Maybe if inspiration strikes in the future, we shall see... Thanks haha. Glad you liked it! Nice to hear it was right up your alley; I totally agree, uniformed women in desperate situations is just so incredibly hot! And yes, I did see your Military Leaks comic, I absolutely loved it! In fact, it was actually one of the things that inspired me to write this story. I've been following your art for a long time (particularly the Decades of Desperation series) and I'm a huge fan, they're incredibly well done. You are without a doubt one of the best omo artists out there, that's for sure! As for your question, my answer is a resounding yes! I'd be honored if you decide to illustrate this story, and I would never say no to seeing more of your art!
  3. This is a story I wrote several months back and have been sitting on since, but I’ve decided to go ahead and post it now. The inspiration for this came mainly from my love of ladies in uniform along with my interest of desperation in historical times; as such, this story is written in the perspective of a former military woman sharing an experience from her past. Quick author’s note: this story takes place in the 1940s, a time period and a setting that I have very little knowledge and experience in. While I did my best to do some preliminary research to establish as much accuracy as I could, please bear in mind that I’m no historian, so there are likely some historical inaccuracies present. Ultimately, the main point of the story is obviously the omo aspect, so that was my primary focus. On that note, please enjoy! The Tale of an ATS Officer: A Long Transport When I think back to my days in the service, I can still remember the hardships and difficulties that I had to face, many of which, I believe, shaped me into the woman I am today. There are several that jump to mind, whether it’s the struggle of living away from home for the first time, or the constant looming worry that stems from being stationed at a place of conflict. But there were many smaller hardships, many that I personally endured, that often don’t get mentioned, though I believe those are equally important in conveying the true reality of what life was like for a young and inexperienced military woman in those days, such as myself. The story I’m about to share here today is an example of such that took place during my time in the Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) — a time when a seemingly ordinary event turned into a rather bizarre predicament, one that nearly caused me to experience the greatest humiliation of my life. Looking back after all these years, I must admit the whole thing was actually quite humorous, and this little anecdote is sure to give you, dear reader, quite the laugh — though I can assure you it was anything but amusing at the time! When this took place, in the year 1942 (I had just turned 30), I was posted in the Middle East at a camp in Egypt, doing my duties there as an intelligence officer. Much of my job involved handling classified military information and relaying it to various superior officers as necessary; it was often demanding at times, but I welcomed the hard work, and I found it to be very fulfilling. On this particular day, I was given the task of carrying a set of reports up north to a camp located about 3 hours away by car. Initially, I was meant to travel up alone, driven up by one of the girls in the camp who’d been trained as a driver. However, two area commanders had chosen that same day to run barracks inspections in all the camps in the vicinity, and it so happened that they were both headed to the same camp that I was. So it was quickly decided that I would simply accompany them on their journey rather than wasting fuel for me to drive up separately. The trip would, however, take longer since the commanders planned to make a couple stops at some smaller camps along the way. I was not bothered by this, however, and was more than happy to travel with them. The two men arrived early that morning to go through the inspections, during which time I quickly got myself ready for the journey. I donned the usual ATS uniform, consisting of an all-khaki ensemble of a shirt, jacket, and skirt with brown shoes. Even our stockings and underwear were the same beige color! It was all rather drab and monotonous in my eyes, though we hardly had any other options. With my uniform in place, I went to the office to pick up the all-important package: a box sealed tight containing the reports that were to be transferred. With it in hand, I made my way to one last stop before I set off on the journey: the mess hall. With summertime rapidly approaching, the heat was growing worse with each day; even the mornings were becoming unbearable. Such was the case that day, and I stepped into the mess hall with quite a thirst and a hankering for some cold water to cool myself off. Hoping to keep myself well hydrated for the long journey, I gulped down several cups of water and even filled up my large steel bottle to the brim which I planned to bring with me. Soon afterwards, I met with the commanders, who introduced themselves as well as their driver, Carol, a young woman from a different camp who’d be driving us the whole way. I certainly didn’t envy her job — it was a long trip there and back, over six whole hours of driving which she had to manage on her own! Nevertheless, she did not seem too perturbed and happily got on with it as we set off from the camp, sitting alone at the front while I sat in the back seat between the two commanders, making conversation as we went along. Unfortunately, the heat was making things quite uncomfortable in the cramped area, and my thick uniform vest was certainly not doing anything to help. I found myself sipping continuously from my bottle as we went; I’d thought a liter of water would be adequate for the whole trip, but after just half an hour, it was nearly all gone! I silently cursed to myself, knowing I shouldn’t have finished it all so early. Little did I know, however, that my true predicament was only just beginning: it was right around then that I began feeling that all too familiar sensation down below — the dreaded call of nature. I immediately realized what a foolish mistake I’d made: to drink so much water right before an hours-long trip with no guarantee of women’s lavatory facilities along the way…oh dear, what had I been thinking? But alas, it was all too late now. Our next stop was due to be a storage facility about an hour away, and I simply had to hope I could find suitable accommodations there. The drive was fairly uneventful, and the two gentlemen beside me proved to be pleasant company, though I was getting increasingly distracted from the conversation by my personal need, which grew alarmingly quickly over the next hour. Upon arrival at our first stop, it had developed into quite the pressing urge, and I was very keen to get out of the car and search for a place to relieve myself. But as the car came to a halt and I made to climb out, one of the commanders stopped me and said we wouldn’t be staying long, and that it’d be better if I remained in the car so we could set off quickly once they were done. I badly wanted to protest, but how could I? I certainly couldn’t disobey a superior’s command, and I was far too embarrassed to admit such a private need to him. Thus, I was forced to bite my tongue and watch on as they walked off to the building beyond the gate. At the very least I had the company of Carol, which provided some welcome distraction. I was hoping the wait would be a short one as the commander had promised, but it was over half an hour before they finally made their way back, a duration during which my most unfortunate condition had worsened considerably. As we set off once again, I was in genuine discomfort, and this time it had nothing to do with the heat (though that too was awful). I innocently asked the commanders what our next stop was and how long it would take to arrive, and they told me we’d be stopping at a camp about an hour away. This response was far from comforting. The word “hour” in particular was a cause of serious worry. In the condition I was in, it was going to be a long way. I knew from prior trips that this road was completely bare, so there was no hope of finding a place to stop along the way. I was in for the whole ride. And with the commanders sitting on either side of me, I simply had to keep myself composed — the last thing I wanted was for them to realize that I was dying for a pee! It was no easy task — an hour had never felt so long, and as we neared the second stop, it was impossible to sit still. For the final twenty minutes, I sat with my thighs clenched tight while my legs jiggled restlessly in place. When I finally laid my eyes on the camp gates as we drew near, I genuinely let out a breath of relief. But just when I was thinking that I was finally saved, we rolled through the gates into the enclosed area, and I saw that this was no camp, but rather a construction zone. You see, what my gentlemen companions had failed to inform me of was that this “camp” was still being built and was clearly nowhere close to being finished. It was mostly just piles of materials lying about everywhere, and a couple of small squat buildings in the middle. One quick look around was enough to deduce that Carol and I were the only two women amidst a crew of male workers. And based off of what I could see, I quickly came to a most unwelcome conclusion: there were no lavatories available here, certainly not one suitable or private enough for a woman to use. Clearly all the male workers were fine with walking a ways down the road to unburden themselves out in the open, a luxury that I simply did not have. I’m sure you can imagine the horror I felt at that moment: I was now doomed to endure my bladder until we arrived at the final camp — and that could take another two hours! Just like before, the commanders headed off as soon as we came to a stop, disappearing into one of the small buildings and leaving Carol and I to watch over the car while they went about their duties. This time, the wait was far more difficult, and I was noticeably agitated as I sat with tightly crossed legs in the backseat. At least with the superiors gone, I could squirm freely to help keep my bladder calm, though even that was starting to help less and less. I was quickly becoming desperate, and at this rate I knew the situation would soon become precarious. I tried to keep up conversation with Carol, but truthfully, I was struggling to even focus on that. All I could do was sit there and silently implore the commanders to hurry up and finish so we could be on our way as quickly as possible. When the building door reopened half an hour later and one of the commanders reemerged, my heart leapt as I thought we’d finally be on our way again. To my dismay, it turned out he merely came out to invite us inside for some tea! Tea was the absolute last thing I needed, but it wasn’t my place to refuse the offer, so I simply nodded and followed alongside Carol into the building. Inside, a couple of the workers greeted us and quickly poured us full steaming hot mugs, which I politely accepted before taking the seat that was offered. I did not relish the idea of putting even more liquids in my body, but refusing to drink would simply have been rude. As I slowly sipped, the men sitting around the table continued with their discussions, though my mind was so clouded by my need at this point that I genuinely couldn’t focus on what they were even saying. Not that it related to me anyway, so I was more than happy to sit there in silence as they talked. The meeting went on for another thirty minutes, a duration during which I rapidly grew incredibly restless. I was bursting for the loo, and I simply could not keep myself still! I was glad the table covered everything below my waist because underneath, my legs were bouncing frantically without pause. I was crossing my legs one way, then the other, shifting in my seat every two minutes trying to find a comfortable position. It was not at all how an officer was supposed to behave in such a formal situation, but I just couldn’t help myself, so great was my need. And to make matters worse, I had to keep sipping away at my tea, lest I be rude to the kind men who offered it, but in doing so, I was only adding even more fuel to my already bloated bladder. Goodness, what a predicament I was in! At long last, the discussions came to an end, and along with it my masterful chair-wriggling performance. The commanders rose to their feet — while I gratefully followed suit — bid their farewells and made their way out and back to the vehicle. I hurried along behind Carol, more eager than anyone to get back on the road once more. The four of us clambered back inside, retaking the same seats as before. Finally, after one last goodbye, Carol brought the engine to life, and we were off. It was the final leg of the journey, but also without a doubt the most difficult one. Even from the get-go I was incredibly desperate — I had no idea how I was going to manage another whole hour in the state I was in. But what other option did I have? I was forced to sit there, grit my teeth, and squeeze my thighs together to hold on until we arrived. When I tell you what transpired was the longest and most agonizing hour of my life, I genuinely mean it. I couldn’t remember a time when my bladder had been so full, it was excruciating! But I had to outlast it, I had to endure until we arrived, because if I didn’t, it would’ve been the biggest humiliation of my life. Clasping my hands together tightly, I tried to keep myself distracted; leaning forward in my seat, I looked out the window at the passing scenes, the trees, the rocks, anything. It didn’t help much at all. I was beyond agitated, my knees bobbing rapidly up and down practically of their own free will. I rubbed my hands up and down my shaking thighs, smoothing out my skirt and trying to keep it from riding up from all the movement. The pressure in my abdomen was immense, and yet every minute it just grew worse and worse. And as if things weren’t bad enough, the road we were on was incredibly uneven, and every bump we rode over sent a jolt of pure agony straight through my bladder. It was absolute misery! I was praying and praying in my head for this awful journey to just please come to an end. Staring at the back of Carol’s head, I silently implored her to drive as fast as she possibly could and get us to the camp. Truth be told, she was doing a very good job, and we were making quick progress, but with my bladder pounding inside me, nothing felt fast enough. I kept craning my neck as I stared longingly out the window at the horizon ahead, hoping against hope each time I did so that I would finally see the camp looming in the distance, that our arrival would be imminent; but each time, I saw nothing but vast emptiness, reminding me that there was still a long way to go. By the time we were halfway through, the pressure was already reaching unbearable heights. It felt as if a fire had been ignited at my crotch, so strong was the sensation that tore viciously in my lower belly. It was desperation in a sense that I had never felt before. Oh, I would’ve given anything, anything, to have been able to empty my throbbing bladder, I didn’t care how, just so long as I could be free of this awful burden! But trapped within the confines of that car and seated between two high-ranking men, I was as helpless as a child. It was a horrible situation to be in. At this point, I was utterly frantic. “Agitated” wouldn’t even begin to describe it. My legs were shaking violently underneath me in every direction they could find space. I had long since given up any attempt to remain discreet, for that was simply no longer possible. I was well aware that my companions had noticed my strange behavior — I could see their questioning glances out of the corner of my eyes, which sent a blush creeping up to my face. Thankfully, they didn’t bother to comment on it, and for that at least I was grateful. Every single muscle in my lower half was constricted, pushing back against the heavy weight of my swollen bladder in my desperate attempts to keep it at bay. Just a bit longer, just a bit longer, was all I could think, over and over again in my head, like a chant, spurring myself to keep holding on. My poor sphincter felt like it was about to tear open from all the immense force that it was enduring. It was so incredibly painful; I could not believe how I was even managing to keep it all in anymore. As the situation became dire, I was starting to become extremely concerned. The need was so incredibly strong by now that I was genuinely beginning to wonder if I could even manage to wait long enough. The thought that I might actually wet myself where I sat, right next to both the commanders, began going through my head. It was a horrifying possibility. As my desperation reached agonizing levels, for the first time I was seriously considering begging the commanders to stop the car so I could scurry behind it, lift up my skirt and squat down right then and there, privacy be damned. Oh, even just the thought was so inviting, I longed to be able to do it, to finally ease this awful pain, I didn’t even care how embarrassing it would be. But alas, I simply could not work up the courage to make such a request, even with my bladder practically screaming at me to do so. Besides, we weren’t too far off now, if only I could just wait a bit longer… The final fifteen minutes were nothing short of sheer torture. I sat hunched over at the waist, my hands clutching at the seat so hard my knuckles were almost popping out of my hand. I could hardly even breathe, my throat constricted out of pure, unadulterated need. My bladder was utterly relentless in its onslaught against me, and the urge was so strong that I was tearing up from the vicious pain. It honestly felt like there was a massive lake pressing down between my legs, and it was growing bigger and bigger in size with every minute. It was absolute agony. I was grinding my feet against the floor, my toes curled tight out of pure desperation. Come on, we’re so close, almost there, almost there… Those words were the only thing on my mind at that moment. I knew deep down that we weren’t far now, and I’d be damned if I were to lose the battle after getting this close! But the last bit is always the hardest, and boy was that true in this case. I was nearly in tears, practically choking back sobs as I endured one vicious pang from my bladder after another. My hands pressed down hard against my upper lap, fingers clutching at my skirt, and my thighs flew side to side all across the seat in a frenzy. I was actively fighting the urge to reach down and hold myself between my legs. Inside my head, I kept saying the words over and over: almost there, almost there, oh please… And then, at long last, there it was: the buildings of the camp, visible on the horizon. My eyes widened immediately at the sight, and the elation I felt upon seeing it was like no other emotion I had ever felt. Oh, I nearly wept with joy! Finally, the end of my torture was approaching. As we were admitted through the gates, I sat bolt upright in my seat, ready to pop out of my seat and rush headlong for the nearest lavatory I could find. My main duty, of course, was to deliver the box of reports in my possession to the intelligence officers, but they were simply going to have to wait. However, any hope I had of running off in search of relief were soon gone, because the moment Carol brought the car to a stop, we were quickly approached by a female officer, who turned out to be the base commander. As we disembarked, she introduced herself and greeted the gentlemen, while I was forced to stand there politely and respectfully. I can assure you, trying to maintain composure and professionalism while your bladder’s about to explode is just about the hardest thing you could do, as I learned firsthand at that moment. My legs were practically twisted into a knot as I stood there waiting for the commanders to finish up their chatter. They took their sweet time, leaving me to scream curses in my head as I swore internally at them to hurry up and finish their damn conversation! A full bladder really does bring out the worst in you. Finally, the base commander turned her attention to me and the package I was carrying, asking me where it was to be delivered, and it was with enormous difficulty that I managed to stammer out an answer to her question. Thankfully, the commander offered to show me to the office to which I was supposed to bring the documents, and asked the group to follow her as she began leading the way. Even the simple act of walking was agonizing, each step disturbing my bladder and sending sensations of pure pain flooding through my abdomen. I didn’t dare separate my thighs for even an instant, so it was more like an awkward shuffle as I took one small step after another, all while trying to keep up with the commander’s pace. I swear I could practically feel the liquid sloshing around within. God, I was so unbelievably full, there could not have been a milliliter of space left. I simply had to find a lavatory, immediately! But where was it?? As we approached the building, the commander indicated for me to go in, saying that there was an officer inside waiting for me. And indeed, the moment I stepped through the door, I was greeted by another woman, a fellow intelligence officer like me. Seeing the package in my hands, she nodded and said she’d been expecting me, before turning and bidding me to follow her to the back where we would file the reports. I, however, simply could not wait any longer. Plopping the box on a nearby table, I quickly stopped her firmly in her tracks, and then, with a sense of utmost urgency that I did not have to feign, and a face the color of beetroot, hastily confessed my desperate plight to her before begging her to show me to the nearest lavatory. For a moment she seemed taken aback by my sudden candidness. But she must’ve noticed the utter distress on my face because she immediately became very sympathetic and quickly began ushering me out the door. I followed her gratefully as she took me to a small wooden shack situated a short distance away. Written upon the door were the most welcome words I had ever seen: “WC – Female”. Giving my escort my sincerest thanks, I nearly flung myself through the door, slamming it shut and locking it while my clenched legs trembled underneath me. Whipping around, I turned to face the “toilet”, which was nothing but a hole in the ground lined with a metal pan. It wasn’t much, but at that moment, it looked like heaven to my eyes. I staggered towards it while simultaneously hiking up my skirt, straddling the pan underneath. So urgent was my need that I couldn’t even wait until my undergarments were down before starting to pee, sending the initial stream gushing straight through the fabric in a messy spray. Grabbing the waistband, I frantically lowered my knickers before squatting down at last and unleashing an absolutely monstrous stream into the pan. Ohhh… my goodness, I could not even begin to describe the utter relief I had felt at that moment. To this day I can vividly remember it, as if it were yesterday. It was heavenly. I moaned audibly as pure and total bliss enveloped my whole body, the incredible sensation of wonderful release after five hours of absolute torture, of finally allowing my tightly constricted muscles to relax completely. I grew weak in the knees, almost collapsing from relief. From between my legs raced out a literal river of pee as I emptied out the fullest bladder I’d ever held in my life. The sound of the powerful jet thundering against the metal was deafening. The stream was clear as water and thick as a pencil, bursting forth with incredible, unrelenting force. I sighed and sighed as I spread my legs apart, relishing the sensation of all that urine finally gushing out of me. And it continued on at extraordinary length, far longer than I had ever gone before. I wasn’t keeping track, but it must’ve been over a minute before it finally came to an end. Even once I was done, I had to sit there for a moment just to catch my breath and regain my senses. The feeling of an empty bladder had never felt so good. I got to my feet, feeling immensely lighter than I had five minutes ago. And now, dear reader, you may be thinking that the story is done and over — but I can assure you it’s not! For no sooner than I opened the lavatory door to make my way back out, did I come face to face with Carol, standing there grimacing with her hand buried in her crotch! Before I could so much as react, the girl had shoved right past me, her fingers furiously clawing at her trousers’ button as she went. In that split second, it suddenly dawned on me that I had not been the only one suffering from a lengthy lack of lavatories. It was obvious now looking back, as she’d been with me throughout the entire trip, and had no doubt been longing for a comfort break just like I’d been, something I’d completely failed to notice at the time having been preoccupied with my own need. Carol, driven by absolute urgency, slammed the door shut behind her without even attempting to place the lock. However, the wooden door merely rattled against the frame and swung right back open, providing her with no cover whatsoever. Carol, however, didn’t even seem to notice, as she was already standing over the toilet, entirely focused on getting her trousers down as fast as humanly possible, practically jumping from one foot to the other as she fought to undo the button. I didn’t want to leave her totally exposed, so on a spur of the moment decision, I quickly reached inside for the door to close it. Only, when I pulled on it, it wouldn’t budge! I glanced down and realized the door had gotten stuck on part of the uneven ground below, preventing me from moving it whatsoever. It was at that moment that Carol finally got her pants undone. Before I could even blink, she tore her trousers and underwear down in one fell swoop, exposing her most private areas right in front of my eyes before finally squatting over the toilet. For the second time in succession, the lavatory was filled with the roar of a very hard stream colliding forcefully against a metal surface. I know I should’ve looked away, but for a moment my eyes were transfixed by the image of Carol’s bare behind hanging over the hole as a thick, gushing stream erupted from within at unbelievable pressure. There was no doubt about it, she had been just as desperate as I had, if not even more so! Forcing myself to tear my eyes away, I quickly turned around and stood guard at the door, figuring at least some cover would be better than none. I could hardly believe how loud it was; I’m sure half the camp must’ve heard her peeing! Despite the noise, I could still make out a series of very relieved “ohhh”s and “ahhh”s coming from behind me; I couldn’t help but smile because I knew exactly how good she felt at that moment. Just like me, she too went on and on for a ridiculously long time — I guess we’d both been blessed with a pair of enormous bladders! And good thing too, because how else would we have managed to last for so long? But I stood there and waited patiently as she finished up and redressed herself, turning around only once I heard her footsteps moving towards me. She looked terribly embarrassed when she realized the door had been open this whole time but thanked me most graciously for staying there and providing cover for her. As we headed back, she confessed to me that she’d actually been bursting to go ever since arriving at my camp five hours previously but had been too shy to ask anyone where the lavatories were. I was shocked when I’d heard this — I was nearly crying in pain towards the end of the journey, I couldn’t even imagine how this poor woman must’ve felt having had to wait even longer than I had! And while driving, to boot! I marveled at her ability to hold her composure and do her job so effectively even through such hardship. Funnily enough, Carol became a close friend of mine after that, and even to this day we keep in touch. I suppose that sometimes friendships are formed in the most unusual circumstances. And yes, we do bring up the “pee incident” and laugh about it from time to time. Well, there you have it, the strangest and possibly the most humorous incident of my time in the ATS. Hope you got a good laugh out of it at my expense (and Carol’s too, of course). Moral of the story? Always have a pee before heading out on a five-hour trip; you’ll regret it if you don’t!
  4. Some time ago I was beseeched by my acquaintance @Apan on here to revisit this story and provide it with an alternate ending like I have done with many of my other stories. I saw no reason to refuse, particularly because this was the first ever story that I wrote, and I'd love to be able to bring it back into the spotlight for a bit. And so I sat down and whipped something up, and now here's the result. As always, enjoy! We pick things up towards the end of the original story: Alternate Ending One more look at the clock showed that it was finally one o’clock. C’mon, it’s been three hours, please, just end it, end the interview… Kate looked pleadingly at Mrs. Larson, who was once again typing away on her computer, still completely unaware of the fact that her interviewee was on the verge of wetting herself all over the floor. Then, at long last, Mrs. Larson finally spoke the words that Kate had been longing to hear for the past hour: “Alright, Kate, that’s all the questions I have for you.” Thank god, oh, finally! Kate was already reaching down to grab her handbag when Mrs. Larson said, “Well, I suppose now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?” Shit. In her desperation, Kate had completely forgotten that she had to ask questions too. It was proper interview etiquette and was almost always expected. She had even come prepared with an entire list of them that she had planned on asking. Mrs. Larson sat there, waiting for Kate’s response, who was sitting in her chair in pure agony. Her bladder was on fire, and it felt like there was a lake of lava inside just seconds from erupting out. She wanted to cry. I can’t wait any longer, I can’t. Suddenly another spurt escaped, this one coming out for a full second before she could stop the flow, and she felt the wetness seeping through her panties onto her black pants. At that moment, she knew she had reached her limit, and waiting any longer would only prove disastrous. Not asking any questions may cause her to lose some points, but anything was better than flooding her pants in front of her potential boss. Taking a deep breath, Kate stammered out, “N-no, I-I don’t have any questions.” She did her best to smile, but at this point she would’ve been lucky if it came out as a pained grimace. “Oh, alright then,” Mrs. Larson said, clearly disappointed. “Well, if that’s the case, I suppose this interview is over.” And with that, she stood up. This was the part that Kate had been dreading. What if standing caused her to lose complete control? She’d been grasping her private parts tightly over the past ten minutes to hold back the flood, but she wouldn’t be able to do that once she stood. She brought her hands back up over the table so she could gather her documents, her legs shaking twice as hard to compensate for the lack of her hands. She hastily shoved all her papers into the folder she had brought, then reached down for her handbag. Finally, folder in one hand and handbag over the other shoulder, she pushed her chair back and stood. She felt the weight of her bladder pressing down from gravity, and squeezed her thighs together, fearing the worst. Through her sheer willpower, she was able to keep the waterfall inside at bay, but it took an incredible amount of effort, an effort she could not sustain for much longer. Turning around, she looked at Mrs. Larson, who stood by the door, holding it open for her. She walked forward in short, quick steps, keeping her thighs as close together as possible while still trying to look normal. Outside the office, she wanted nothing more than to make a beeline for the nearest bathroom, but she knew she had to say her farewells to Mrs. Larson, so she turned back, waiting for her to extend her hand and bid her goodbye. But she didn’t. Turning to face her, Mrs. Larson said, “Actually, Kate, before you go, I’d like you to meet my colleague, Kristen Smith. She’s sort of a co-manager here and she’s been helping me with the interview process, so I think she’d love to meet you.” “Oh…” Panic flared up in Kate’s chest as she stood rooted to the spot. Oh my god, I don’t have time for this! But what could she say? She couldn’t refuse, even if she so badly wanted to! Her heart pounded in horror as she felt her control loosening, feeling the leaks dribbling out past her weakening defense. “Don’t worry!” Mrs. Larson added quickly, apparently mistaking Kate’s sudden emotional upheaval as hesitancy. “I know this isn’t technically part of the interview, but I just want to introduce you two, that’s all. It’ll be super quick, I promise! She’s just right down here, come on.” Not leaving any room for Kate to get a word in otherwise, Mrs. Larson turned on her heels and swept down the hall, leaving a panicking Kate to stagger along after her in short, carefully measured steps. “Mrs. Larson…” Kate croaked, trying to utter out a desperate plea through her tightened throat. But her vocal cords barely produced any audible noise, and the woman leading her strode on in total obliviousness. Kate began walking faster, desperate to catch up to the woman ahead of her and whisper in her ear if she had to: she had to get to a toilet, immediately! But it was too late. Up ahead, Mrs. Larson came to a stop and knocked firmly on a door to her left before swinging it open and peering inside. “Hey Kristen, you busy?” “No, what’s up?” The voice came from inside. “Well,” Mrs. Larson glanced back at Kate with a wide smile. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet! Come on in, Kate!” Oh my god, no, please, I need to go to the restroom! Kate’s mind raced as she sought a reason, anything, to excuse herself. But her brain was too clouded with utter desperation to even formulate a coherent thought. Before she knew it, her constricted legs were stumbling her along into Kristen’s office. “Hi, Kate, so good to meet you!” Kristen offered her hand, which Kate shook far too tightly and quickly. “We just finished up our interview,” Mrs. Larson began, “and I must say it went quite well! Now I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but compared to our other candidates, Kate here has certainly been a standout!” She looked towards Kate expectantly, as if expecting a reaction, but all Kate could manage was a curt smile and a nod. Even the good news could hardly provide her with any elation. Her knees shook frantically back and forth. “Is that right?” Kristen cast her eyes at Kate. “That’s what I like to hear! And you should know that means a lot coming from her, Kate, because Jennifer here is not an easy woman to please!” Mrs. Larson chuckled. “I won’t deny it. You’ve certainly impressed, Kate, which is why I wanted to introduce you two in the first place.” “Well, Kate, what do you say?” Kristen inquired. “The step up to branch manager is a big one. Do you think you’re up for the task?” “Y-yes, of course!” Kate stammered, gulping down the knot in her throat. “I-I’m fully prepared to take on the new responsibilities involved with the position…” Ohhh… please, just let me go, please, I can’t wait any longer… She scrunched her thighs together as she felt a spurt shoot out violently into her panties. Then another. Oh my god… “I have no doubts you’re qualified,” Kristen went on, blissfully unaware of the dire circumstances unfolding right in front of her. “I took a look at your resume earlier, and your experience speaks for itself.” “Oh yes, Kate knows her stuff,” Mrs. Larson confirmed. “Not to mention the excellent work she’s done at the company already. Besides, Melanie’s recommendation pretty much speaks for itself.” Kate’s whole body shuddered. “Right, how could I forget?” Kristen nodded. “Melanie spoke my ear off about you, Kate, she really liked you a lot. And her words carry quite a bit of weight around here, so… Kate? Are you alright? Is something wr — oh! Oh dear…” Kristen and Mrs. Larson stared at the young woman in front of them, first with concern, then with complete shock. Kate, who had suddenly doubled over in the middle of Kristen’s sentence with her hands pressing against her crotch, burst into tears. Because now, after three hours of agony, she had endured one spasm too many. Kate stood with her feet planted to the ground and her knees glued together inwardly as a ferociously powerful stream burst forth hissing loudly from within her senselessly clenched thighs — the seal had been broken, and nothing could stop the dam now. It went everywhere, flowing rapidly down her legs and completely soaking up the fabric of her trousers as it cascaded down her thighs and calves on its way to splatter all over her high heels and the floor around it. A thousand heavy drops of hot pee clattered loudly against the clean tiles, at such a volume that it imitated a rainstorm. It was an explosion that rendered everything wet, from every little inch of her pants to the enormous puddle gathering on the floor that grew haphazardly in every direction. Kristen and Mrs. Larson looked on, aghast, as Kate completely peed herself, the poor woman standing hunched over in the middle of the room as she gasped out sobs. The feeling of utter shame was unbearable; it was a magnitude of humiliation which she had never felt before. A nightmare, that’s what this was. A nightmare that didn’t seem to end — the flood just kept on coming, one massive wave after another as her bladder seemingly pumped out the contents of a lake. And the entire time, no one uttered a single word, merely watching on in stunned silence. When at last her bladder had fully emptied itself, Kate’s entire lower half was literally drenched. Her pants felt three times as heavy, fully saturated with urine and clinging wetly to her skin. It felt horrible. But no physical discomfort could compare to the mental anguish that raged through her: her face burned with total mortification. The pee may have stopped flowing, but her tears certainly did not. “Oh, Kate…” Mrs. Larson finally seemed to have found her voice. “It’s… oh my… it’s alright, it’s alright…” Kristen cleared her throat. Her eyes were still wide with shock as she surveyed the scene that had unfolded in her office. Her mouth opened, but she seemed at a loss for words. “I… I’d better go call the janitor… yes, I’ll… be right back.” Without another word, she quickly swept out of the room, clearly eager to get out of the very awkward situation. Mrs. Larson remained, her eyes still trained on her crying interviewee. “Kate, what… how did this happen?” “I-I-I’m s-so sorry,” Kate managed through bouts of heavy sobs. “I… I really… had to go, and… I just… I couldn’t wait any longer… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” As the initial shock began to wear off, Mrs. Larson’s gaze softened. “Oh, Kate, why didn’t you just say something earlier?” “I just… I didn’t want to interrupt the… the interview…” “Oh, sweetheart, you could’ve said it was an emergency, I would’ve understood! It’s just a quick bathroom break, there was no reason for you to sit there and torture yourself… oh, you poor thing… Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom, I’ll find something for you to change into.” Staring at the ground through a thick veil of tears, Kate let herself be led away by Mrs. Larson, towards the room that she so desperately needed just five minutes ago; it seemed so pointless to go there now. Her pants and heels squelched loudly with every step in the quiet corridor, each one sending a new pang of shame through her body. She felt light-headed, as if in a daze, immersed in a state of shock and disbelief. Had she really just wet herself at her interview? Was this all just an awful dream? Maybe if she closed her eyes tight and rolled up into a ball somewhere, she could pretend that it was… Mrs. Larson and Kristen were both very kind to her afterwards, with Kristen even offering to run to a nearby store to buy her some new pants so she could change into dry clothes. But despite their endless assurances that all was okay and that there was nothing to be ashamed about, Kate was simply inconsolable, and she knew it would be a long time before she could live this down. She left as soon as she possibly could and drove home in somber silence, eager to get home so she could curl up in her bed and cry herself to sleep — it was the only way she’d be able to forget about this disaster of a day. And what a disaster it had been. The End
  5. Just stumbled across this one, what an incredible story! A great example of a simple scenario being used to its maximum potential. The desperation was described so immaculately, down to her every movement and feeling, all of which served to portray poor Heather's plight so clearly. I particularly loved the bit about how she "collapsed fully on a toilet she would have normally tried to squat over" — a simple statement that shows just how utterly desperate she was at that moment, that she didn't even have the strength to squat, literally falling onto the toilet the second her pants were out of the way. Brilliantly done, @WiiGuy86, thank you for this one. Always look forward to more from you!
  6. Thanks guys, glad you enjoyed it. As someone who largely prefers just made it endings, I totally get what you mean, I don't like the embarrassment either. But I know there are a lot of people here who do, so I like to mix things up to have something for everyone. This alternate ending system has been working pretty well as a compromise, though, so I think I might just keep doing it in the future. This is one of my favorite things. I think it's a token of her absolute desperation when she can't even wait until she gets her tights down before she starts peeing full force. Really emphasizes how close it really was. Maybe she'll drop in again, who knows? But I think I'm gonna give the poor girl a break for the time being, and shift my focus onto some other ladies. Can't let Abby have all the fun, after all.
  7. Took a while to get around to writing this, so I do apologize for the lengthy delay. As requested, this one's for all my fellow "just made it" lovers out there. Enjoy! Part 6 (Alternate Ending) Alarm bells were blaring in Abby’s head as she stuttered out word after word. She couldn’t remember the last time she had struggled this much to speak. Her voice felt tight and constricted, and the simple task of enunciating words seemed to take an incredible effort. She could feel sweat beading up on her forehead and felt the warmth on her cheeks which were flushed pink. But worse than any of this was one thing, the only thing that clouded Abby’s mind like a swarm of angry buzzing bees: her full, throbbing, pounding bladder. She had to pee so incredibly badly that it was almost painful. She fought to blink away the tears that swam in her eyes, while down below her legs bounced so furiously they looked like a jackhammer trying to drill through the floor. Her fists, curled up in the tightest of balls, were pushing down against her skirt at the base of her abdomen, a futile attempt to grasp her crotch which was impossible given the tightness of her skirt stretching across her lap. With no hands to hold herself with, all she could do was squeeze her thighs together as tightly as she possibly could to clamp off her urethra, because inside that little hole between her legs was a massive dam full of boiling hot urine straining to come flooding out, and that simply could not happen. And so, with her whole body practically shaking in her seat, Abby had stumbled on, uttering one word after another, while in her head she was literally praying for this misery to end. She knew how strange she must’ve sounded to those around the table as she stumbled on about the details on the piece of paper she clutched in her hand, but at that moment, she didn’t even care. All that mattered was getting out of this room as soon as possible so she could beeline to the nearest toilet. At the very least, no one seemed to be aware of her embarrassing predicament; most likely they thought the young visitor was just nervous speaking in front of so many senior employees. So focused was Abby on not totally peeing herself where she sat that she didn’t even notice the door opening and two people walking in until she saw Sydney reassuming her seat next to her. Mrs. Wilkins took her seat on the opposite side as well, immediately flipping through her papers to catch up to what was being discussed. “Thank you, Abby,” Mrs. Wilkins acknowledged her with a nod as Abby finished explaining her current point with considerable internal difficulty. “I can take it from here.” Oh, thank god. Abby had never been so happy to stop talking. It had now been over five hours since Abby’s urge had first begun this morning, and by now she was beyond frantic. Her bladder was absolutely bursting at the seams, its walls being stretched beyond its limits like a water balloon being pumped with way too much fluid. And yet, her kidneys didn’t seem to care one jot, mindlessly pumping away more and more filtered urine by the second. She shuddered involuntarily as a devastatingly powerful surge of desperation tore through her body; her vision blurred as her eyes welled with tears, and she bent her head down as she directed every bit of energy she had to her quivering, exhausted sphincter. But it was tiring out, and her bladder was only getting fuller and stronger. She felt drops of pee starting to dribble through and seep into her panties, and no amount of muscle clenching seemed to stop it. Oh my god, it’s starting to come out… It was so utterly excruciating, she was so unbelievably desperate, and yet, trapped at this meeting in this posh conference room with one of their most important clients, there was nothing she could do but wait, totally helpless in the face of adversity. She wouldn’t have wished this on her worst enemy. She had no idea how much more of this she could take. All she knew was that she was rapidly running out of time, and if this meeting didn’t end very soon… she couldn’t even bear to think about what that would mean. No, that’ll never happen, it won’t… She could wait, she had to, there was no other way. But at that moment, waiting was the hardest task in the world, when mere minutes seemed to last a lifetime. Her bladder pulsed and throbbed, its forceful pushes so strong it felt like violent contractions ripping through her entire lower body. With every wave of pressure, she clenched and unclenched her muscles, and each one felt like the end, her heart skipping a beat as, just for a second, it seemed that she’d crossed the point of no return, that her muscles had finally given up for good. But somehow, in some way, she kept going, she kept holding on. Yet deep down, she knew she was merely delaying the inevitable. She couldn’t keep up this fight much longer. This is unbelievable. For not the first time that day, Abby felt her despair turn to anger and frustration. What did I do to deserve this? It was so embarrassing, even if she didn’t completely flood the seat she was sitting on, her behavior and performance had been abysmal, something her boss would surely not forget. As another burst of pee shot into her underwear, Abby was seriously starting to panic. Leaning forward at the very edge of her seat, she pushed her balled-up fists as deep into her crotch as she could, her thighs fanning in and out so fast that her knees were banging into each other. Oh, PLEASE just end, I can’t wait, please… Abby was on the verge of crying. Her bladder was on fire, it felt like there were a thousand red-hot knives trying to force their way out of the little hole between her legs. She was so desperate she couldn’t even think. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how she was holding it in anymore. But her resolve was falling, and her sphincter was failing. She could no longer stop the leaks, which were quickly growing more frequent by the minute. With each little dribble, her panties grew wetter and wetter, and soon the entire front of it was soaked, the wet fabric clinging tightly to her womanhood. Soon it would start to show on her skirt. Oh my god… Her breath was coming in soft gasps, and her heart was pounding in her throat. This was it — she had to do something. She had waited and waited, beyond what seemed humanly possible, and yet the meeting continued without an end in sight, and she simply couldn’t hold on any longer. If she did, the consequences would be disastrous. She had to ask for a break — she really didn’t want to, but she had no other choice. It’s okay, they’ll understand, Abby reasoned with herself. Mrs. Wilkins did it and nobody cared, just do the same. Having made up her mind, she sat waiting for an opportune moment to interrupt the meeting. All the while, she rehearsed what to say endlessly in her head. Excuse me, may I please go use the restroom? Can I be excused, please? I need to use the restroom. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to use the bathroom, can someone escort me? Over and over again she repeated the line to herself, sitting bolt upright in her chair, writhing in absolute agony as she waited for a break in the discussion. After a few more long minutes, her moment finally came as one of the gentlemen on the far side of the table wrapped up with whatever he was talking about — Abby genuinely had no idea. There was a momentary pause in the proceedings as they pondered which topic to move onto next. This was her chance, and she couldn’t afford to miss it. Heart pounding and flushing beet red, Abby cleared her throat and raised her hand to draw attention. Susan noticed. “Yes, Abby? You have something to add?” “Um, n-no, uh, actually…” Abby gulped, trying to swallow the knot in her throat. “I-I just, I have to use the restroom… would someone be able to show me the way?” “Oh, I see…” Susan seemed to ponder for a moment. “You know, Abby, if you don’t mind, I’ll have someone escort you once we finish up here, alright? Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait long, we’re almost done.” She began to turn away. “Wait!” Abby blurted out. Startled, Susan glanced back at Abby. Glowing even redder, Abby gulped again, fighting to keep tears at bay. “I-I’m so sorry,” her voice shook, “it’s really urgent, I really can’t wait, c-can someone please escort me now?” She looked pleadingly towards Susan, practically begging to be excused. It was so embarrassing, causing such a childish scene in such a formal setting, but Abby was seconds away from exploding in her seat — this was not the time to stay silent. “Oh…” Susan seemed momentarily at a loss for words, suddenly looking towards Abby with quite some concern. Quickly recovering herself, she cleared her throat. “Uh, of course, if it’s precarious, then I certainly won’t keep you waiting. Sydney, could you please show her the way?” Abby, beyond embarrassed but feeling eternally grateful to have the chance to finally escape this room, gingerly got to her feet, her legs trembling underneath her. As she stood upright, the immense weight of her bladder suddenly seemed to magnify tenfold, sending yet another leak bursting into her underwear, and for one terrifying moment, it felt as though everything was about to come flooding out underneath her. Turning away from the table, she winced in pain as she awkwardly scrambled around her chair with her thighs clenched together, feeling the wetness creeping onto her tights. But she held on with all her might, and she managed to regain control — just barely. She could feel the stares from everyone in the room behind her, but at that moment she couldn’t even bring herself to care. Sydney stood holding the door open for her. Needing no invitation, Abby plunged forward and out of the room before looking expectantly towards her escort. “Right this way.” Sydney took the lead, walking briskly down the hall as Abby hobbled along right behind her. Her bladder was throbbing with anticipation, and every step she took seemed to double the already excruciating pressure under her skirt. They couldn’t get to the bathroom soon enough. But as they rounded a corner and came face to face with a locked security door, Abby was forced to come to a stop, against the will of every fiber of her being. As Sydney fumbled with her ID card, it took every ounce of willpower she had not to whimper out loud and bend over in half with her hands on her crotch. Instead, she stood with her hands clenched together in front, leaning forward slightly at her waist while her knees shook violently underneath her. Not an ounce of room was left in her bladder, and she could feel drops of urine starting to trickle down her inner thigh, soaking right through her tights. God, Sydney, hurry uppp… For some reason, the scanner on the wall was taking forever to read Sydney’s card. Abby screamed a thousand curses in her head, teeth clenched so tight together they were in danger of cracking right open. Finally, the scanner emitted a green light, and the door clicked. Sydney had hardly pushed it open before Abby practically ran through it, almost knocking the other girl over in her haste. On the other side, Sydney pointed. “There it is, Abby. I’ll wait here, you go ahead —” Whatever else Sydney said was completely lost on Abby. The moment her eyes had fallen on the ladies’ room door, everything else in the world ceased to exist. Not wasting a second, she surged forward, her upraised palm colliding against the wooden door as she shoved it forcefully open, before turning and rushing immediately to the open stall. Slamming the cubicle door so hard it rattled the entire frame, she fumbled with the lock with trembling fingers while her feet danced below her, doing everything she could to hold back the waterfall just a few more seconds. But her bladder would not obey, and her sphincter no longer had the strength to withstand it. The lock clicked into place, but before she could even get her hands down to her skirt, she lost control completely. Urine came spurting out with incredible force, cascading right through her tights and splattering all over the floor between her legs. In one frantic moment, Abby grasped the hem of her skirt with her fingers and yanked it up over her waist, then, still peeing uncontrollably, tore down her tights and underwear in a second downward swoop before finally dropping down onto the toilet below. “Ohhhhhh...” Abby moaned audibly, her mouth falling open. But if anyone else was in that bathroom, they would not have heard it, such was the volume of the monstrous geyser that was blasting against the porcelain. It sounded as if a storm was pouring out from between her thighs, erupting out of her little pee-hole and crashing into the toilet, so loud even Sydney could probably hear it clearly from well outside the bathroom. But to Abby, all that mattered at that moment was the complete and absolute bliss, the utter relief that was flowing through every vein of her body. She sat there in total delirium, her thighs spread apart with her drenched tights and underwear stretched between them, while out of her still-open mouth came one drawn out breathy moan after another. And all the while, the urine storm rained down below, one thick, clear stream of hot pee rushing out at speed. All that pain and agony, hours of absolute torture, finally fading, reprieved at long last. Well over a minute had passed before the dam inside her had depleted completely, a duration during which Abby had enjoyed every second that had passed, savoring the sensation of her urine rushing through her urethra. Even after it had finally come to an end, she sat there for another couple of minutes in silence, catching her breath and trying to regain her composure. Oh my god, I can’t believe that actually happened. That had been way too close for comfort. Towards the end there, she had genuinely thought she would wet herself, so great was her desperation. Truth be told, she hadn’t fully made it. Her tights, which she had been too late to save, were totally ruined, almost every inch of them sopping wet with her pee; her panties hadn’t fared any better. Having recovered herself, she finally got to her feet and stripped off the tights, chucking them into the trash before dabbing her glistening urine-streaked legs with a large wad of toilet paper. It wasn’t just her legs; the floor was specked all over with her pee. Not wanting to leave any evidence of her mini accident, she set to cleaning it all up. Once satisfied, she reemerged from the stall, washed her hands, and brushed herself down in front of the mirror. To her great relief, her skirt was devoid of any wet spots, all thanks to her quick hands which had gotten them out of harm’s way just in time. It really had been an awfully close thing. One more minute at that meeting and… she shuddered at the thought. Her head still felt a bit dazed, both from sheer relief and exhaustion, but she collected herself and stepped back out into the hallway. Sydney stood waiting by the security door. “Feel better?” “Yeah. Much better.” The End
  8. Very interesting point. I hadn't even considered there might be some sneaky politics at play here, but it's certainly a possibility. I do remember reading the chapel bit and thinking how bad that would look if she was caught or word got out about the incident — she's desecrating a holy place, after all. You're also right regarding the sources, several of the books I listed above do list each other in the bibliography, which would explain the similarities. That said, I think I actually tracked down what I believe to be the original primary source: the memoirs of Louis de Rouvroy, Duke of Saint-Simon. He lived in this time period and was apparently quite the memoirist, keeping thorough records of much of the gossip among the court. Supposedly he heard the Duchess talking about her miserable coach journey, and I guess he thought it was interesting enough to jot down in his journal. For obvious reasons, his accounts are all written in French, but luckily I was able to find a translated version as well. His recounting of the story has pretty much the same details as the ones above, but for anyone that cares, I'll go ahead and attach the relevant snippets below. Original French version: Translated English version:
  9. That would surely be the source of ultimate humiliation and embarrassment, and would probably damage her reputation among nobility quite a bit. No doubt this was probably on our poor Duchess' mind as well as she sat there in absolute agony, using it to strengthen her resolve and hold herself together until they arrived at their destination. Then again, even the strongest bladders have their limits, and one can only imagine what might've transpired had the journey been seven hours instead of six... This whole scenario is like a dream come true for an omo-fetishist, it's almost too perfect. I swear, half of me wants to believe Louis XIV must've had an omo gene somewhere in his body — I mean, the guy pretty much forced his coach companions (who were mostly women) to consume lots of food and beverages, but would then refuse to stop the coach when they inevitably needed to relieve themselves, even when they were traveling for hours, so the women would have no choice but to glue their thighs together and pray for a quick journey. It almost feels like a mischievous setup. It's a fun one for sure! I've been on the hunt for recorded tales of real-life desperation in the past, which is why I was very excited to stumble across this. I'm sure there's more out there, it's just a matter of finding the time to look for them. Again, I'm no expert on these things, but after a brief search, it seems like the carriage probably contained a single compartment with large windows on all sides. Given that Louis XIV liked to travel with all windows wide open, the people within the carriage would be visible to anyone outside. This, combined with the fact that guards and officers always surrounded the coach on all sides when the King was traveling, meant that there would be no privacy whatsoever inside to use a chamber pot. Thus, the only hope that a full-bladdered woman traveling with him would have is if the King himself stopped the coach to go relieve himself, at which moment she could quickly go and do the same in a discreet location. But even this little hope would be in vain — Louis XIV was apparently endowed with a very strong bladder, so he'd almost never stop for a comfort break, much to the despair of the bursting ladies accompanying him. It really is a perfect storm, and I'm sure this Duchess likely wasn't the only one to get caught up in it. Speaking of the Duchess, I actually have a rather major update on her identity @Raziel. Turns out we were both wrong regarding her age, because apparently we had the wrong person altogether! You see, when you look up "Duchess of Chevreuse", the person that comes up is a woman named Marie de Rohan, who I assumed was the Duchess in the story. But then I realized one detail was off — in the excerpt from The Sun King, the woman in the coach is referred to as the daughter of Colbert, whereas Marie de Rohan's father was Hercule de Rohan... clearly not the same person. So, after even more digging around, I finally found out the true identity of the desperate coach ride victim: Jeanne Marie Colbert, daughter of Jean-Baptiste Colbert. She actually ended up marrying Marie de Rohan's grandson, thus inheriting the title Duchess of Chevreuse herself, which is where all the confusion stemmed from. As for her age at the time of the incident, it's hard to say for sure, since I unfortunately can't find any clues as to when this coach ride took place. However, considering the fact that Jeanne Marie was 12 years younger than Louis XIV (and 50 years younger than Marie de Rohan), I think it's safe to say that she was probably on the younger side.
  10. Most welcome! As for her age, I believe you're absolutely correct. I initially thought she was on the younger side since the snippet from my second screenshot refers to her as "young woman". But after a quick glance at their Wikipedia pages, I've just realized that the Duchess was 38 years older than Louis XIV! And by the time of his coronation, she was already 53 years old, so I think your approximation is pretty accurate. At such an age, this feat is all the more impressive indeed! No doubt her bladder was strengthened after decades of being a courtier. I'm no history expert, but I've read before that it was strictly forbidden for courtiers to leave the Royal Court when in the presence of the King or Queen, and these events can often drag on for hours and hours. I'm certain this coach journey wasn't the only time she was subject to such an urgent predicament, and she almost certainly wasn't the only woman to have faced this plight.
  11. This sounded very interesting so I decided to dig around a bit to see if I could find some more details. @Jimmy Olsen was right, The Porcelain God does contain an excerpt about this event, which I attached below: Not bad, but pretty vague and lacking in detail, so I decided to dig into the sources listed at the end of the book, and that's where I really struck gold. In a book titled Princesse of Versailles: The Life of Marie Adelaide of Savoy by Charles Elliott, I found the following accounting of the event, this time in much better detail: Now that's more like it! Now we know the woman involved was the Duchess of Chevreuse, traveling from Versailles to Fontainebleau, and her host was none other than King Louis XIV himself! No wonder she didn't dare to excuse herself, and merely opted to suffer in silence while trying to mask her absolute desperation. After Googling around a bit more, I also found a few more excerpts regarding the event from a couple other books, although there's no additional information in them and pretty much says the same as the above in different words. I'll list them below anyway: The Sun King by Nancy Mitford Athenais: The Life of Louis XIV's Mistress, the Real Queen of France by Lisa Hilton That's the extent of my findings, hopefully that satisfies your curiosity @Raziel. As someone who's always fantasized about prim and proper ladies desperate to pee in historical settings, you have my thanks for bringing this delightful real life incident to my attention. The image of this poor young Duchess trying to contain herself in the presence of a king while her bladder is absolutely bursting at the seams is just so hot. And the fact that she managed to hold out for six whole hours is beyond impressive —- she must've been blessed with quite the iron bladder. Even so, she barely made it in the end, and what an ending that was, so desperate upon arrival that she couldn't even make it to her room, instead having to rush into the nearby chapel so she could pee into the holy water font! I can only imagine how thunderous her stream must've been as six long hours worth of pee finally erupted out of her with great force, and the utter relief she must've felt in that moment. She sure deserved it after suffering through such an ordeal.
  12. Sorry it took so long to respond, it's been a busy week, but just wanted to pop in and say I've read through all your comments, and I'm beyond flattered! Your kind words mean a lot to me, and I'll definitely use it as encouragement to write some more stories, so a big thank you from me to everyone. Regarding an alternate ending, I hear you all loud and clear! Haven't had time to get started on it yet, but I'll try to whip something up as soon as I get the chance, though fair warning, it might take me some time. I have seen the suggestions that have been made, so I'll try my best to incorporate what I can.
  13. And now for the grand finale! Part 6 “Sorry to pull you out of the meeting like that, dear,” Mrs. Wilkins said to Sydney as the conference room door closed behind them. “I really appreciate you taking me, I don’t think I could’ve waited!” “Of course, it’s no problem at all!” It was just a polite response, but it was true, Sydney didn’t mind the interruption. It was quite evident that Mrs. Wilkins needed to use the toilets very urgently, and Sydney, driven by her sympathetic nature, was more than happy to help. Sensing the older woman’s unease, she walked quickly down the hall, not wanting to delay her any longer than necessary. But as they snaked their way through the hallways, it was not Mrs. Wilkins who Sydney was thinking about, but rather her younger colleague Abby, who had been held up back in the conference room. With a pang of pity, she thought back to the look on Abby’s face, just for a split second, the look of sheer despair as she realized she’d have to stay behind and speak while her boss went to take a restroom break that she also desperately needed. Sydney had felt so bad for her, seeing her sitting there suffering and unable to do anything about it. Without any way to help her, Sydney had had no choice but to merely turn away and lead Mrs. Wilkins out of the room, but she was filled with concern for her sake. She hoped the poor girl would be alright. Surely, she could last until the end of the meeting, right? She did seem to be incredibly desperate, though. But no, she’s a grown woman, she’d be able to wait it out. Besides, the meeting wouldn’t go for much longer, they’d already covered most of the discussions. Reassuring herself that Abby would be just fine, Sydney tried to put the matter out of her head. As they approached a security door, Sydney had to fumble with her ID card to scan it. She could hear Mrs. Wilkins stepping restlessly in place as she waited, clearly not appreciating the barrier, though she said nothing to indicate it. Having scanned her card, Sydney looked back to see the woman standing with her fists on her waist, staring intently at the door as her knees wobbled in place. Pushing open the door, Sydney held it open for Mrs. Wilkins, who looked quite relieved to be moving again. From here, the restrooms were just up ahead, two unmistakable doors at the end of the hallway. Indicating to the Ladies’ room, Sydney stood aside and gestured for Mrs. Wilkins to go ahead, who did so gratefully. Deciding it would be wise to make use of the opportunity, Sydney followed her in as she pushed through the door. Once inside, Mrs. Wilkins wasted no time. She hurried towards the nearest cubicle, the clicking of her heels echoing loudly in the quiet and empty bathroom, her hands already unbuttoning her trousers as she went. It seemed that her mask of professionalism was finally breaking down, perhaps due to her proximity to the toilet, as the blank look on her face from earlier had been replaced by one lined with tension. Her pants button was undone by the time she reached the stall, and her right hand was tugging the zipper down before she’d even closed the door, a sight which caught Sydney by surprise. Wow, she really has to go! Clearly, the woman was at her limit and couldn’t afford to waste a second, even if it meant giving Sydney a glimpse of her panties. The door slammed shut, and as Sydney entered the stall next to hers, she heard the rustle of clothing being pulled down very quickly. What followed immediately after was a soft thud as she sat firmly on the toilet, and then the unmistakable sound of a woman releasing a very full bladder’s worth of pee into the bowl. Having worked at this office for several years, Sydney had heard her fair share of urgent pees from her fellow female colleagues who had been caught short in long meetings or packed schedules. But the gusher that was being produced in the stall next to her was quite exceptional, the loud splashing and echoing hiss an indicator of the significant force of the stream being produced. One thing was for sure, her desperation had certainly not been an act. Even under all that noise, Sydney could just about make out the deep exhaling of air as Mrs. Wilkins heaved out a massive breath of relief. As Sydney pulled up her skirt to tend to her own need, the stream in the stall next to her droned on and on. She found herself growing more impressed by the second; there was no doubt now that Mrs. Wilkins was sporting some remarkable bladder capacity. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard a woman pee for this long. So long, in fact, that Sydney had finished peeing, wiped herself, pulled up her tights and underwear, adjusted her skirt, and was already turning around to flush before the stream finally tapered off to an end. It had been easily over a minute of nonstop, high-pressure peeing. Sydney was actually shocked. How on earth had she been so calm while carrying around such an enormous amount of pee? That woman’s got some serious self-control, she thought to herself in awe. Sydney was washing her hands at the sink when Mrs. Wilkins finally reemerged from the stall, looking far more relaxed and composed as she joined her. Having freshened up, the two of them made their way back out to the hall, where Sydney once again took the lead as they headed back to the conference room. As they approached the room, Sydney’s thoughts once again drifted to Abby, wondering how she was getting on. Well, she’d find out in a second — pushing open the door, the two ladies entered the conference room to rejoin the meeting. *** Alarm bells were blaring in Abby’s head as she stuttered out word after word. She couldn’t remember the last time she had struggled this much to speak. Her voice felt tight and constricted, and the simple task of enunciating words seemed to take an incredible effort. She could feel sweat beading up on her forehead and felt the warmth on her cheeks which were flushed pink. But worse than any of this was one thing, the only thing that clouded Abby’s mind like a swarm of angry buzzing bees: her full, throbbing, pounding bladder. She had to pee so incredibly badly that it was almost painful. She fought to blink away the tears that swam in her eyes, while down below her legs bounced so furiously they looked like a jackhammer trying to drill through the floor. Her fists, curled up in the tightest of balls, were pushing down against her skirt at the base of her abdomen, a futile attempt to grasp her crotch which was impossible given the tightness of her skirt stretching across her lap. With no hands to hold herself with, all she could do was squeeze her thighs together as tightly as she possibly could to clamp off her urethra, because inside that little hole between her legs was a massive dam full of boiling hot urine straining to come flooding out, and that simply could not happen. And so, with her whole body practically shaking in her seat, Abby had stumbled on, uttering one word after another, while in her head she was literally praying for this misery to end. She knew how strange she must’ve sounded to those around the table as she stumbled on about the details on the piece of paper she clutched in her hand, but at that moment, she didn’t even care. All that mattered was getting out of this room as soon as possible so she could beeline to the nearest toilet. At the very least, no one seemed to be aware of her embarrassing predicament; most likely they thought the young visitor was just nervous speaking in front of so many senior employees. So focused was Abby on not totally peeing herself where she sat that she didn’t even notice the door opening and two people walking in until she saw Sydney reassuming her seat next to her. Mrs. Wilkins took her seat on the opposite side as well, immediately flipping through her papers to catch up to what was being discussed. “Thank you, Abby,” Mrs. Wilkins acknowledged her with a nod as Abby finished explaining her current point with considerable internal difficulty. “I can take it from here.” Oh, thank god. Abby had never been so happy to stop talking. It had now been over five hours since Abby’s urge had first begun this morning, and by now she was beyond frantic. Her bladder was absolutely bursting at the seams, its walls being stretched beyond its limits like a water balloon being pumped with way too much fluid. And yet, her kidneys didn’t seem to care one jot, mindlessly pumping away more and more filtered urine by the second. She shuddered involuntarily as a devastatingly powerful surge of desperation tore through her body; her vision blurred as her eyes welled with tears, and she bent her head down as she directed every bit of energy she had to her quivering, exhausted sphincter. But it was tiring out, and her bladder was only getting fuller and stronger. She felt drops of pee starting to dribble through and seep into her panties, and no amount of muscle clenching seemed to stop it. Oh my god, it’s starting to come out… It was so utterly excruciating, she was so unbelievably desperate, and yet, trapped at this meeting in this posh conference room with one of their most important clients, there was nothing she could do but wait, totally helpless in the face of adversity. She wouldn’t have wished this on her worst enemy. She had no idea how much more of this she could take. All she knew was that she was rapidly running out of time, and if this meeting didn’t end very soon… she couldn’t even bear to think about what that would mean. No, that’ll never happen, it won’t… She could wait, she had to, there was no other way. But at that moment, waiting was the hardest task in the world, when mere minutes seemed to last a lifetime. Her bladder pulsed and throbbed, its forceful pushes so strong it felt like violent contractions ripping through her entire lower body. With every wave of pressure, she clenched and unclenched her muscles, and each one felt like the end, her heart skipping a beat as, just for a second, it seemed that she’d crossed the point of no return, that her muscles had finally given up for good. But somehow, in some way, she kept going, she kept holding on. Yet deep down, she knew she was merely delaying the inevitable. She couldn’t keep up this fight much longer. This is unbelievable. For not the first time that day, Abby felt her despair turn to anger and frustration. What did I do to deserve this? It was so embarrassing, even if she didn’t completely flood the seat she was sitting on, her behavior and performance had been abysmal, something her boss would surely not forget. As another burst of pee shot into her underwear, Abby was seriously starting to panic. Leaning forward at the very edge of her seat, she pushed her balled-up fists as deep into her crotch as she could, her thighs fanning in and out so fast that her knees were banging into each other. Oh, PLEASE just end, I can’t wait, please… Abby was on the verge of crying. Her bladder was on fire, it felt like there were a thousand red-hot knives trying to force their way out of the little hole between her legs. She was so desperate she couldn’t even think. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how she was holding it in anymore. But her resolve was falling, and her sphincter was failing. She could no longer stop the leaks, which were quickly growing more frequent by the minute. With each little dribble, her panties grew wetter and wetter, and soon the entire front of it was soaked, the wet fabric clinging tightly to her womanhood. Soon it would start to show on her skirt. Oh my god… Her breath was coming in soft gasps, and her heart was pounding in her throat. This was it — she had to do something. She had waited and waited, beyond what seemed humanly possible, and yet the meeting continued without an end in sight, and she simply couldn’t hold on any longer. If she did, the consequences would be disastrous. She had to ask for a break — she really didn’t want to, but she had no other choice. It’s okay, they’ll understand, Abby reasoned with herself. Mrs. Wilkins did it and nobody cared, just do the same. Having made up her mind, she sat waiting for an opportune moment to interrupt the meeting. All the while, she rehearsed what to say endlessly in her head. Excuse me, may I please go use the restroom? Can I be excused, please? I need to use the restroom. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to use the bathroom, can someone escort me? Over and over again she repeated the line to herself, sitting bolt upright in her chair, writhing in absolute agony as she waited for a break in the discussion. After a few more long minutes, her moment finally came as one of the gentlemen on the far side of the table wrapped up with whatever he was talking about — Abby genuinely had no idea. There was a momentary pause in the proceedings as they pondered which topic to move onto next. This was her chance, and she couldn’t afford to miss it. Heart pounding and flushing beet red, Abby cleared her throat and raised her hand to draw attention. Susan noticed. “Yes, Abby? You have something to add?” “Um, n-no, uh, actually…” Abby gulped, trying to swallow the knot in her throat. “I-I just, I have to use the restroom… would someone be able to show me the way?” “Oh, I see…” Susan seemed to ponder for a moment. “You know, Abby, if you don’t mind, I’ll have someone escort you once we finish up here, alright? Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait long, we’re almost done.” No, wait, I can’t wait any longer! She tried to retort, but the words caught in her throat, and before she could recover herself, Susan had already taken her silence as agreement and moved on. Yet again, Abby could only watch powerlessly as they continued onto the next matter — just like that, her plea for relief, her last-ditch attempt, had gone unrequited. Abby was full-on panicking now. She could feel the urine seeping through her sopping wet underwear little by little, spurt by spurt. How on earth was she going to make it out of here? It was too much, it was so incredibly painful, even waiting another ten minutes seemed totally impossible. Her massively swollen bladder protruded out of her abdomen, made very visible by her tight skirt stretched across it, pressing in heavily and applying even more pressure on her pee hole. Pressure that was unbearable, insurmountable, impossible to resist. She felt ready to explode. As the seconds crawled by at glacial speed, her desperation was getting exponentially worse. There was no more room left in her bladder, it was full to the very brim, and it could no longer be contained. It was starting to come out, and Abby was powerless to stop it. She could feel the wetness creeping up the inside of her thighs as she started losing control with every minute that passed. Oh no, oh god, please no… Clench. Unclench. Spurt. Clench. Unclench. Spurt. It was ten minutes since Abby had made her request to be excused, ten minutes that felt like ten years, but Susan’s promise of a short wait had not been delivered. The table was engaged in yet another heated discussion, and it seemed that Susan had completely forgotten about Abby. In fact, not a single soul in the room seemed to be aware, or even care, that the young woman in the red satin blouse was suffering in absolute agony, just moments away from completely wetting herself. Tears threatened to flow down her face as she struggled and failed to hold herself together. She looked towards Susan in utter despair, every muscle of her body contracted in absolute desperation, but the woman at the head of the table was completely oblivious to her. Spurt. Abby ground her thighs together. Spurt. No, stop, please! Spurt. She shoved her hands so deep into her crotch that her skirt threatened to tear from the force, but Abby didn’t even care. She had to clamp her urethra firmly shut, no matter what the consequences were. But whatever she tried, it was no use anymore. The pressure was just too much, and her poor beaten sphincter simply did not have the strength to withstand it anymore. Abby was well and truly at the end of her tether. But the meeting was not over. Not even close. Spurt. Abby gasped for breath, her fingers clawing at her skirt desperately. Spurt. Oh my god, no, PLEASE! Hmmphhh… Long spurt. And this time, the sudden gush could not be stopped. Her weakly contracting muscles finally gave out completely, and in seconds, the little spurt turned into a forceful, unstoppable torrent. Her eyes widening and panic and horror, Abby gasped audibly, squeezing her thighs together and shoving her hands down with all her might, but it was too late. Her battle with her bladder was lost. A loud, clearly audible hiss emanated underneath several layers of clothing as an ocean’s worth of pee began storming out with incredible force. Within seconds, the chair on which she sat was completely flooded, her urine cascading down the front and the sides with such velocity and volume that it resembled a huge waterfall. The hot liquid clattered against the marble tiles with so much noise it sounded as if a fire hose was being directed at the ground. Abby, stupidly refusing to give up fighting even now, continued to keep her thighs glued together in a hopeless attempt to stop the violent stream. This only ended up making things even worse: half the urine was propelled upwards, pooling at the top of her thighs and spreading out all over the top such that in mere moments, the entire front of her skirt was completely drenched, transforming its initial light gray color into a much darker shade. Waves and waves of pee flowed down the length of her thighs and poured out over her knees, gliding down her calves and shins and soaking up every inch of her tights on its way to join the enormous puddle that was being formed underneath her seat. Even the tears that Abby had been holding back for so long came rolling down her cheeks as she burst out crying. Unable to bring herself to look at anyone in the room, she closed her eyes and hung her head, her face burning red with total humiliation and unimaginable embarrassment. Even so, she could feel the stares of astonishment and shock coming from every corner of the table as they watched the youngest person in the room completely wetting herself where she sat. Abby sat slumped in her chair, sobbing, enveloped by shock and utter shame. This can’t be real; this has to be some horrible dream… But it absolutely was real, and it was happening right now. And there seemed to be no end to it either. On and on the stream gushed out of the little hole between her legs, bursting forth with such power that it could’ve torn her panties open. Almost her entire skirt was saturated with urine, as were her tights, and even her feet were submerged in the warm liquid as rivers of pee snaked their way into her high heels. And still the waterfall continued to flow with great strength, quickly turning the puddle underneath her into a massive lake that grew still larger. Those unfortunate enough to be sitting next to her had scurried up off their seats to avoid being splashed by her fluids. Sydney, one of those who’d had to move out of the way, stood with her hand covering her mouth, watching in shocked amazement at what was happening. At least a full minute and a half had transpired before the stream finally began to slow and taper off to a finish, although it felt like eternity to Abby. As the roar of the waterfall slowly died down to a trickle, the room fell into a stunned silence, interrupted only by Abby’s sobs. The events that followed were all just a blur to Abby, who remained curled forward in her chair and wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and cease to exist. She heard vague chatter and footsteps around her as the room was cleared out at Susan’s behest, until only Mrs. Wilkins remained. Her boss spoke, seemingly offering words of comfort, and although Abby nodded meekly along, she barely even heard what she was saying. It was a disaster. Abby had never been more humiliated in her entire life. How could she go on after something like this? How would she ever be able to show her face at work again, especially with Mrs. Wilkins there? She had seen everything, every single drop of her shameful accident. The most important day of her career, and she had wet herself in the presence of one of their most important clients. It simply couldn’t get any worse. It was a day that she’d never be able to forget, for all the wrong reasons. The End
  14. Part 5 Just five minutes into the meeting, Abby was stressed beyond belief. They had hardly just begun, and already she was fighting for her life. She sat shaking in her chair, the muscles of her lower torso and thighs clenched tighter than she could ever remember. It had only been five minutes, but already she was counting down the seconds in her head as she prayed for the time to go faster. But if anything, it seemed like the opposite was happening. Every time she glanced up at the clock — which she seemed to be doing every minute — the long hand appeared to have not moved a millimeter. Funny how the fuller your bladder is, the slower time seems to go. Another cruel trick of the universe. And to make everything worse, Abby still had to try and pay attention to what was going on in the discussions. Words were being exchanged, documents were handed back and forth, and it all seemed a blur to her as she sat there using most of her energy trying not to pee herself. She knew that at some point she will have to speak about certain matters, things that she had come prepared to talk about, and when that time came, she’d have to muster up the strength to speak confidently and answer any questions that would be thrown her way. But right now, the desperation that plagued her was so great that she could barely even make out what people were saying. Pull yourself together, Abby! She ground her teeth together, grabbing and squeezing the edges of her skirt as she squished her thighs together, doing anything to get some level of control against the mighty thrusts of her bladder. Trying to think through the fire between her thighs, she glared intently at the piece of paper in front of her, the document which one of the businessmen on her left was currently going over. The words seemed to swim in front of her eyes, and it took every bit of effort she had left to just register what the man was saying. God, how am I going to be able to talk in this state? Yet again, she began to feel a rise of panic within her at the imminent prospect of embarrassing herself in front of all these important people. What if she started stuttering like a schoolgirl when it came her turn to speak? What if someone noticed her squirming around and thought something was wrong with her? What if… No, don’t think about that! Abby silently urged herself. But no matter what she did, nothing could quell the mounting concern within her, which seemed to be growing in parallel with the fullness of her bladder. She sucked in her breath, closing her eyes as she felt a wave of urgence flaring up in her abdomen, intensifying the stinging sensation at her crotch to intolerable levels. Her back arched upright, she quickly leaned forward at the edge of her chair, crossed her legs at her ankles, raised her heels and began bouncing her legs rapidly under the table, all the while praying internally for the sudden surge to die down. It did, ever so slowly, and by some miracle Abby managed to clamp off any leaks. But the heavy, dull pressure was still there, stronger than ever before, bearing down against her sphincter in its relentless fight. Her legs did not stop bouncing. Ohhh… her soft doe eyes looked imploringly up at the round white clock for the thousandth time, hoping that somehow, magically, an hour had already gone by. How has it only been fifteen minutes?! She wanted to sob in misery. She had to pee so bad by this point that she could feel it in her teeth. Clamping her jaw shut, she drew short, tight breaths through her nose. She felt like she was walking on a tightrope; one sudden move, even a single wrong breath may push her bladder in the wrong way, and the result would be disastrous. And somehow, even after all these hours, it was still getting worse, her kidneys utterly unforgiving in their biological function as they ruthlessly piled on to her suffering, funneling more and more hot urine into the ever-expanding sac below. How could one measly organ cause so much pain and torment? It was ridiculous. As the minutes ticked by and her desperation inevitably grew worse, all her concern and worry started boiling over into anger. Why did this have to happen today?! The most important day of her professional career, and of course she’d ended up trapped in a boardroom with a bursting bladder. It was so unfair. The discussions were slowly starting to veer towards the topics in which she would have to participate. She had to be ready to speak now, no matter how bad her situation was. She had a job to do, she had a responsibility to Rosen Industries, to her boss Mrs. Wilkins, to herself. No matter how badly she had to pee, she had to swallow it up and perform. She balled up her hands tightly in determination, rubbing them up and down along the sides of her thighs. Come on, you can do this! “…and I believe Renee and Abby here have the full details on that.” Susan gave an expecting glance at the two of them. Mrs. Wilkins was, as always, right on top of things, and quickly nodded in acknowledgement. “Right, Abby and I can take you all through a quick summary. Abby, perhaps you’d like to start with the first bit?” She looked up pointedly at Abby, setting the stage for her to begin. Abby felt her heart pounding in her chest again as she felt all the eyes in the room turn to her again. Just relax. Taking a deep breath, she clumsily grabbed the relevant document which detailed the content she had to talk about. Just act normal. Acting normal, however, was significantly more difficult when it felt like the contents of Hoover dam was trying to escape her urethra. But there was no other option, she had to fight through it and put on her best appearance. Here, surrounded by all these sophisticated businessmen all around her and her boss sitting right across the table, she simply could not embarrass herself. Clearing her throat, she forced a smile onto her face, straightened up, and began to speak. “We can start on page twenty-four, where we can see an overview of the figures regarding…” Her voice felt tight, and it took an unnatural effort to get the words to come out of her throat. But as she spoke and got into a flow, it slowly became more manageable. Nevertheless, the unrelenting pressure in her abdomen was at the forefront of her mind, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Somehow, through an incredible effort, she managed to hold her composure above the table, just about retaining her professionalism and giving off an air of nonchalance while keeping the edge off her voice. This was, however, in stark contrast to the chaos that was unfolding below the desk, where her legs were shaking with the vigor of a child that had consumed far too many sweets. It was a necessity; the constant movement seemed to be the only barricade against the flood that threatened to break loose at any moment. Abby and Mrs. Wilkins took turns speaking over the next fifteen minutes or so, going over all the aspects which they were in charge of, all while the men and women around the table nodded along, took some notes, and occasionally asked a question in passing. All the while, Abby waged her internal battle in silence, refusing to let it be shown outwardly. While her top half continued to smile and nod like the proper young businesswoman she was, her bottom half hidden under the desk sustained its feverish dance as her legs bounced, swung, jiggled, and crossed over each other nonstop. But in the end, to Abby’s relief, she was able to get through it all without any major hiccups, and soon the discussions had turned to a different topic, one in which she had no part in, so now at least she could just sit there without the burden of having to talk. Whatever happiness she derived from this, however, was short-lived when she saw that there was still at least another thirty minutes to go until the break Susan had promised at the start. It was unbelievable. She could’ve sworn they’d been in here for two hours already! Feeling the intense urge threatening to overcome her again, she gripped the sides of her chair tightly and pressed her thighs together as she looked helplessly towards Susan, who was now going on at length about whatever topic they were on now. Ohh, please just hurry up. Please call for a break, I can’t wait much longer… Her internal pleas went unheard as Susan continued to drawl on at length, completely unaware that the young lady sitting on her left was absolutely dying for the toilet, her every word furthering her misery more and more. Oh my god, when will this end?? Abby thought in total despair as she writhed in her seat, twisting her legs in any way, trying to find some position that would give her some comfort. She couldn’t find any. By this point, her frantic movements had grown so vigorous that she could no longer keep them discreet. At one point, as her thighs furiously fanned in and out across her chair, she noticed Sydney — who sat to her right — turn and look at her legs with a puzzled expression, no doubt wondering what on earth Abby was so restless about. Feeling a blush creeping to her face, Abby quickly ceased the movement and tightly crossed her right leg over the left, leaning forward as she tried to apply as much pressure onto her urethra as possible, fighting to keep control while moving as little as possible. Eventually Sydney turned her attention back to the meeting without much question, but Abby couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at having drawn attention to her strange behavior. Tears formed in her eyes as the fiery burning between her legs intensified even more. She blinked them away as she looked up longingly towards the clock yet again, almost willing the time to go faster. But that didn’t seem to work either. All she could do was squeeze her muscles tight and wait it out, minute by minute, one bit at a time. She could make it, she had to. There was simply no other option. Whatever happened, she would do whatever it took to make it out of this room without incident. *** Sydney Thompson twirled her pen in circles between her fingers. The movement helped a bit to relax her hand, which was starting to tire, having been curled over a piece of paper over the last half hour, scribbling notes about the discussions. Ever the diligent worker, her razor focus had been on from the beginning, her mind jumping only between the words being uttered around the table and the ever-filling notepad in front of her, her fingers flitting deftly across it as she wrote. Focused as she was, though, sometime into the meeting, Sydney had started getting distracted by the slight commotion that was happening on the seat to her left, which was occupied by one of the visitors, the young woman called Abby. Sydney couldn’t help but notice how restless she seemed to be. She didn’t think much of it at first. Everyone got restless after sitting for a long time, so some fidgeting was perfectly normal. Figuring that this was probably the reason, Sydney had gone back to her notetaking, paying no further attention to her seat neighbor. As the meeting progressed, however, it seemed like the girl next to her just couldn’t stop moving. If anything, her nonstop wriggling seemed to be getting worse as time went on. Out of the corner of her eyes, Sydney could just about make out the outline of Abby’s legs, which seemed to be performing a jig, bouncing this way and that as her heels practically danced along the floor in front of her. What on earth is up with her? Sydney wondered in bemusement. She was squirming all over her chair as if there were ants crawling up her skirt. Sydney wasn’t finding it very amusing though. This was a very important meeting, she needed to pay close attention to ensure she didn’t miss any important details, and Abby’s peculiar behaviors were irritatingly distracting. To Sydney’s chagrin, there seemed to be no end to it. Even while she spoke, Abby’s legs had been bobbing up and down underneath, and Sydney found herself wondering what could be causing this agitation. Was she really nervous? No, that couldn’t be it, she sounded confident enough while she was speaking. What then? It had to be something. At one point, when she turned her head and caught a glimpse of Abby’s face, she saw that it was clouded with worry. In fact, she looked quite stressed, with her brow furrowed and her lips pursed tight. Something was definitely bothering her, there was no doubt about that. Is she feeling ill? Or maybe… maybe she really needs to… And that’s when it dawned on her. She has to pee! It was evident now. All those movements, the look of concern on her face, those anxious glances up at the clock… she was clearly in need of a visit to the ladies’ room — and very badly, from the looks of it. It made sense; they’d been out since 9 o’clock that morning, and since then, Abby had never left Sydney’s sight. Evidently, her morning coffee had caught up with her in quite a big way. Suddenly, Sydney found herself feeling bad for her; her constant jiggling had been distracting, but it was only born out of an uncontrollable need, and it was clear that Abby was in quite a bit of distress. She could empathize, having been caught short in similar circumstances herself; trying to contain yourself while dying to pee in a long meeting was certainly not a pleasant experience. As the meeting dragged on, she could hear Abby’s soft urgent sighs next to her, enunciating her dire need in a subtle but clear way. She really did look to be in quite some trouble. Sydney wondered why she didn’t just excuse herself from the room to go and take care of her urgent need, but then she found herself answering her own question: no doubt she was embarrassed at the prospect of causing a disturbance by interrupting the whole meeting, especially in the presence of so many company executives. Not to mention the fact that, since Abby was an outside visitor, her guest ID card wouldn’t even be able to open the security doors that led to the restroom, so she would need to get someone to escort her there. It was quite the predicament. It seemed her best option now was to hold tight until the break, during which she would finally be able to scurry off to the toilets which she desperately needed. If anything, at least she wouldn’t have to wait much longer; they were only about 20 minutes from the halfway point, and Susan was likely to call for a break by then. On top of all this, Sydney couldn’t help but notice that Abby wasn’t the only one that was acting up at the table. Her boss Mrs. Wilkins, sitting across the table, seemed to be in quite a state herself. Sydney hadn’t noticed at first, having been preoccupied with Abby’s struggle, but when she had leaned back in her chair at one point to stretch her back, her eyes were immediately drawn to Mrs. Wilkins’ legs, which were bouncing frantically under the desk, so much so that the bottom edge of her gray trousers flapped about in the air. The sheer intensity of the movement left no doubt that it was not born out of boredom, but rather an urgent, burning need, quite like Abby’s. Very much the experienced professional, however, Mrs. Wilkins showed no indication of it on her face, which was as blank and expressionless as ever. Nevertheless, if one knew what to look for, like Sydney did at that moment, the signs of her dilemma were certainly there, however subtle she tried to make them: the endless prancing of her feet, the frequent shifting of positions, the stolen glances at her wristwatch. It seemed that both their visitors had the misfortune of being burdened with very full bladders, and seemingly no opportunities to pour out its heavy contents. Sydney suddenly felt grateful that she hadn’t ended up in a similar situation, internally thanking herself for her decision to forgo her usual cup of morning coffee. That was a decision she had made knowing full well that this morning and afternoon would be packed with very few chances to nip away for a bathroom break, and although she’d missed her daily dose of caffeine, not having to worry about a bursting bladder had been worth it. As the minutes went by, Sydney could sense the girl next to her rocking ever so slightly in her seat, and one quick sideways glance was enough to tell that her entire body seemed to be tensed up tight. Her knees were pushed up against each other, thighs rubbing up and down as she struggled to find any position of comfort, though if the despairing look in her eyes was any indicator, none were to be found. Sydney was starting to become genuinely concerned for her sake and began to question whether she’d even be able to last until break. From the looks of her, there was no doubt that she was having an emergency. Poor girl, she really should ask to be excused. And yet, it seemed she still couldn’t bring herself to speak up and interrupt the meeting. Sydney couldn’t blame her; had she been in that situation, she probably wouldn’t have had the guts to do it either. After all, she too was just a junior employee, and it would simply be too intimidating to walk out with so many of her superiors in the room. Nevertheless, as desperate as she was, Abby seemed determined to soldier on, perhaps spurred on by the fact that she wouldn’t have to wait too much longer. Break time crept ever closer, and with it the end of her suffering. All she had to do was wait out this final stretch. *** Five minutes, just five more minutes… come onnn, oh my god… Abby writhed in anguish, feverishly counting the seconds in her head as she waited for the break. It was so close, she was almost there, she just had to hold on for just a few more minutes… She could hardly even think straight at this point, much less pay attention to the words being spoken at the table. It felt like there was a fire blazing at her crotch, her rock-hard bladder weighing down forcefully against her poor, exhausted sphincter, which was the only barrier holding back the vast ocean within her. Her composure was falling apart as her desperation rose to excruciating levels. Her legs shook haphazardly and fervently, her tight gray skirt getting stretched this way and that with every movement. It took so much energy that she was practically panting, her breath ragged and shaky as she inhaled and exhaled. She could sense Sydney’s glances from next to her, but she was too desperate to even care. All that mattered now was that she held on just a little bit longer, just a couple more minutes… As the clock struck one o’clock and one of the men across the table slowly wrapped up his spiel, Abby looked pleadingly towards Susan, her hands gripping the sides of her chair tight, waiting for her to announce the break. Please, just call for a break, oh please please please… Susan glanced up at the clock, clearly noticing that they were at the halfway point. Yes, that’s right, it’s time! As she opened her mouth to speak, Abby was already perched on her heels, ready to pop out of her seat the moment Susan was done talking. “Well, looks like we’re halfway through,” Susan began, “and I’m quite pleased with the progress we’ve made so far, we actually managed to cover more than I expected. You know what,” Susan looked around the table. “I know I said we’d take a break, but seeing as there’s not much left to cover, would everyone be okay if we just power through? It would be easier to just get this over with, I think.” What? NO! Abby’s heart hammered in her chest as sheer panic flared within her. Oh my god, no, please, someone say no, SAY NO! But to her horror, nods and murmurs of agreement resonated around the table, everyone seemingly content with Susan’s plan to skip right through the break. No, please! Abby wanted to cry. This can’t be happening. She knew she should say something, she had to speak up. But the embarrassment of begging for a toilet break in front of all these senior executives was just too much to overcome, and she simply couldn’t get herself to open her mouth. All she could do was watch helplessly as they unanimously agreed to continue the meeting. But just then, Mrs. Wilkins suddenly cleared her throat. Leaning forward in her seat, she looked apologetically towards Susan. “Actually, I’m so sorry, but would it be alright if I excuse myself for a moment? I really need to use the restroom.” “Oh yes, of course, Renee!” Susan nodded in understanding. She looked around. “Sydney, would you please show Renee to the restrooms?” “Yes, Mrs. Patterson!” Upon hearing this, Abby almost burst into tears of happiness. Yes! Oh my god, thank you Mrs. Wilkins! This was her chance; she was saved after all. Sydney had gotten to her feet, as had Mrs. Wilkins, and Abby opened her mouth to request that she join them on the way out. Before she could even get a word out, however, Mrs. Wilkins began to speak again. “I apologize again, I know I was supposed to speak next. But while I’m gone,” she looked up at her young protégé across the table, who sat in her chair with her mouth partially open, still waiting to ask if she could go use the bathroom. “Abby knows all the details just as well as I do, so she can get started on it until I get back.” For the second time in two minutes, Abby felt another surge of panic blossoming in her chest. She could hardly believe what she’d just heard. As everyone turned to face her, she must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights. Sensing everyone’s eyes on her, she fought to clear her face and maintain any sense of normalcy, but internally, she was screaming. No, Mrs. Wilkins, please, you can’t leave me here, I can’t wait any longer! But it was already too late. “Excellent!” Susan had turned to look at Abby, who realized that there was no getting out of this now. “Well, Abby, shall we get started, then?” No, we shall not! Every fiber of her being was trembling with desperation, and it took an effort just to stop herself from breaking down into tears. But what was she to do, deny a request by the head of the company? Left with no other choice, she swallowed a sob and nodded meekly, fumbling about with the papers in front of her as she fought to gather herself. She had no idea how she was going to speak for the next few minutes. As Mrs. Wilkins turned and followed Sydney out of the room, Abby could only watch with longing and envy. Oh, how she wished she could spring from her seat and run out with them, more than anything! But then the door closed behind them, and they were gone. And she was still trapped here.
  15. Part 4 Abby bit her lip as she held back a sigh. God, I really have to pee. It wasn’t an understatement. Ever since they’d driven off from the site of the new office, Abby’s urinary urge had increased substantially, to the point where she was seriously worried. Maybe it was because she no longer had the distraction of a meeting discussion to take her mind off of it, or perhaps it was the AC which Thomas had turned on that was now chilling the interior of the vehicle. Whatever it was, her bladder seemed to have kicked it up a notch in its fight against her sphincter, and somehow Abby had to bear it while sitting there in that cramped space, pretending like nothing was wrong. By now she truly was desperate, in all senses of the word. It was just past 11 o’clock, meaning it had been three hours since her need had arisen, but her wait would go on because they were still a long way from their destination. All she could do was hope that there would be no obstacles on the road so that they could get back to the office as soon as possible, where she could rush to the nearest toilet, tug her skirt up and… Abby shook her head. No, don’t think about that! She could feel her bladder pulsing just at the thought of a toilet. Her arms lay on her thighs as her legs jiggled up and down in place. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she simply could not keep still by this point. Her sphincter was under a significant amount of duress, and the movements seemed to be the only thing keeping the flood inside at bay. She just hoped her boss, who was sitting next to her, wouldn’t take note of her wriggling. Struck by a feeling of déjà vu, she was suddenly reminded of that business trip she’d taken last year with Mrs. Wilkins, where they’d gone to meet with Mr. Lee. What a horrible trip that had been — just thinking about it made her feel distressed and embarrassed. Following a series of unfortunate incidents, Abby had ended up in the back of a cab with her boss with the most agonizingly full bladder she had ever suffered in her life. It felt like she was now faced with a similar situation, in the back of a car next to Mrs. Wilkins, though she didn’t have to go as bad as she did back then. By some miracle, she’d somehow made it that time, but it had been a close thing, and tears had been shed, so bad was her desperation at the end. It had been one of the worst experiences of her life, and not one she wanted to replicate today. Her kidneys, however, didn’t seem to share the sentiment. Apparently intent on making her suffer as much as possible, they seemed to be pumping a river of pee into her bladder like there was no tomorrow. As the minutes went by, Abby could feel her bladder getting heavier and heavier, the sharp stinging between her legs growing in intensity. Oh, please, just stop already, she begged of her body, but of course it would not listen. Biology will run its course no matter what, and no amount of pleading from a desperate young girl could prevent that. This continued on for thirty minutes. They zoomed along down the highway, which thankfully for Abby was clear of traffic, so at least they were making good progress. The conversations among the occupants had slowly died down into a lull, so now they went in silence. Abby’s thighs fanned in and out rapidly; she was very aware of the rustling noise it made as the fabric of her tights rubbed up against her skirt, but again, she simply could not stop. Fortunately, no one seemed to pay any mind. Even so, she was doing her best to act nonchalant, putting on an expression of boredom as she stared out the window, looking at the cars and buildings whipping past as they drove on. Unfortunately, none of her acting could make the pain more bearable, and it was getting increasingly difficult to keep her burden from showing outwardly. Many miles further down, Abby gazed wishfully out the window as they passed by a rest area next to the highway. The giant road sign next to the ramp leading into it bore the universally recognized restroom symbols, almost inviting her in. Abby wanted so badly for Thomas to pull in, just for two minutes, that’s all she needed. But she was too shy to speak up in front of everyone and admit her need, and Thomas, totally unaware of her situation and clearly intent on getting back as soon as possible, stayed firm in the left lane and zoomed right past the exit, leaving behind any possibility of relief for the young woman in the backseat. All Abby could do was sigh inwardly and do her best to keep herself together. Her thighs and knees remained glued together, though her feet remained apart, the tips of her heels touching the floor while the heels bobbed up and down in the air. Her agitation was only growing worse with every mile they drove. Every five minutes, she was wondering how much further they had to go before they arrived; given her unfamiliarity with the area, it was impossible to tell. Finally, her patience running thin, she fished out her phone from her handbag and hurriedly typed the address of the Rosen office into the map, though not before turning down the brightness so her boss couldn’t see what she was up to. After a moment’s calculation, the GPS estimated another 20 minutes left to reach the office. That’s not too bad, Abby thought to herself, her mood lightening ever so slightly now that she knew they were close. It was 11:40, meaning they would be due to arrive at noon as planned. Just twenty more measly minutes, surely there won’t be any trouble now… …but it seemed today was just not Abby’s lucky day. Because no sooner had they exited the highway and merged onto the road that led to the office did they come face to face with a line of traffic stretching out into the horizon. “Dammit,” Thomas piped up from up front. “Had a feeling this would happen. Looks like we’ll be here a while.” “It’s that construction crew, they’re repaving the road,” Susan added in a disgruntled tone. “Of course they had to pick now of all times…” Abby stared in horror at the sheer number of cars that stretched out in front of them. Oh my god, please, no, not now! She suddenly remembered the line of traffic she’d faced this morning on her way to the office, realizing that this was the same jam. Except that now, it had gotten even worse. What had previously been a mile of traffic had now expanded to at least three or four, and to Abby’s utmost despair, they were at the tail end of the line of cars. Who knew how much longer it would take to get through it all? The situation was not looking good at all for Abby as they idled in place in the standstill traffic. She winced as she felt a sudden wave of desperation wash over her, her bladder pushing vehemently against her sphincter to let out its contents. Abby pushed her thighs together and clenched her muscles in firm refusal, her knees bouncing even faster to provide some extra support. This was really getting bad. Oh… please, move faster, please… Little by little, they inched their way forward, but it was painstakingly slow progress. Abby sat upright in her seat with her hands clutched around her seat belt, pulling it away from her abdomen to keep it from pressing in against her bladder. Seeing herself surrounded by cars in the middle of the road, she once again had a flashback to that fateful trip last year, in the back of that cab with Mrs. Wilkins, stuck in traffic with no possible escape, just like now. She remembered how helpless she’d felt; she’d been sure that she wouldn’t make it, that she would have a humiliating accident right there in the car next to her boss. But somehow, almost impossibly it seemed, she had made it, and if she could do it then, then she could definitely do it now. Yes, she thought to herself defiantly. I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, we’ll get there in no time… Her optimism certainly helped, boosting her spirits and giving her a surge of willpower to keep her bladder quiet. But she couldn’t do this forever, time was of the essence. Her GPS had earlier said it would be 20 minutes to the office, but the 20 minutes came and went, and they’d barely made it halfway through the line of cars. It was stop-and-go traffic, the car crawling forward at a snail’s pace, while Abby sat miserably in the backseat, trying to subdue the ticking time bomb in her abdomen. She could practically feel the large volume of urine sloshing around within her with every bump they went over. Genuine concern filled her soft brown eyes as she peered out the window. She stared longingly at every building and store they passed, imagining the toilets that were inside them. If only she could just get off this car, dash across the street, and run into one of those buildings, she could finally be free of this misery. But that was nothing but a fantasy. Seated among these very important executives and colleagues, she simply had to keep her act together, there was no alternative. The next mile took almost 15 minutes, and still there was a ways to go before they reached the bottleneck. Abby knocked her knees together, grinding her teeth in frustration as she craned her neck, peering out the windshield to try and get any bearing of how much further they had left to go. From the looks of it, there was still a good half a mile left. Irritation bubbled up within her as she laid eyes on the orange cones blocking the left side of the road, causing this huge buildup. Dammit, why did this stupid construction have to be happening now? Abby thought angrily. Deep down, she knew she shouldn’t blame the workers, because obviously they had no hand in her unfortunate predicament. But when one’s bladder is as full as Abby’s was at that moment, it’s hard to think rationally. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes tight as she fought off yet another pang from her bladder, which were growing more and more frequent. Oh my god, come onnn, please… Up ahead, Susan was speaking on the phone, calling the office to let them know that they were running late for the meeting. Indeed, it was now 12:20, whereas the meeting had originally been planned to start at 12:00. “We’re almost through the traffic,” Susan was saying. “We should be there in about ten minutes.” Ten minutes. Abby hoped she was right. She could manage ten minutes. Though in her state, even such a short time would feel like forever. They were finally approaching the site of construction; once they were past that, it should be smooth sailing. Her legs were shaking fervently, while her hands rubbed up and down her lap, doing anything to keep her distracted. The pressure down below was reaching unbearable levels, but it wouldn’t be much longer now, they were almost there. She clenched her legs in anticipation as they reached the construction zone at last. Directed by a police officer, Thomas carefully weaved in between a line of erected cones as they passed through, and finally, after thirty minutes of traffic, they were through. Abby breathed in relief as they began driving at full speed again, zooming towards the office which was now just five minutes away. She squirmed and fidgeted feverishly in her seat, but the minutes went by quick enough, and before she knew it, they were passing the security gate and pulling into the parking lot. Thank god, finally… Abby sat upright with her hands clutching her handbag, ready to bolt before Thomas had even parked the car. When he finally did, she was the first out of the car in her eagerness to get inside the building. Even so, she had to stay and wait for the rest of her peers as they disembarked, and they were being frustratingly slow about it. Unable to stay in place, she made a show of stretching her legs as she stepped all over the place, hoping she didn’t look strange in her behavior. No one seemed to notice anything amiss, though, and soon they were all making their way to the entrance, Abby eagerly scurrying along. As soon as they’d stepped into the lobby, she immediately craned her neck as she looked for a restroom. But once again, much to her annoyance and worry, there were none to be seen. “Before we go further,” Susan announced, turning to face Abby and Mrs. Wilkins, “I must ask that you wear your guest ID cards. For security purposes, I’m sure you understand.” “Of course!” Mrs. Wilkins produced her lanyard from her bag and hung it around her neck, while Abby did the same. “Thank you. And just to let you know,” Susan continued, “most doors and areas in this building have restricted access, and only employee badges can open them. So just make sure you’re always accompanied by someone, don’t go anywhere alone, alright?” Abby and Mrs. Wilkins nodded in understanding. “Excellent.” Susan opened her mouth as if to say something else, but just then a new voice cut through the air, cutting her off. “Mrs. Patterson!” The voice came from a young woman who had just emerged into the lobby from a hallway. She hurried over to Susan and Thomas before continuing. “I just wanted to let you know that everyone’s waiting in the conference room. Should I tell them to wait?” “No need, Stacey, we’ll begin right away,” Thomas responded. “We’re already late as it is, no point in putting this off any longer. Shall we, everyone?” Turning, he began leading them to the hallway and into the depths of the building. Abby, who’d been standing with her feet clamped together and struggling to stand still, gratefully followed along. She only had one objective in mind now: find a bathroom — immediately! One thing was making her nervous though: Susan’s note about the restricted access within the building meant that she wouldn’t be able to go look for a bathroom on her own, she’d have to ask someone to escort her. Not wanting to bother someone over something so trivial and personal, she sincerely hoped they would pass by a restroom on the way to the meeting room. Yet as they snaked their way through a labyrinth of hallways, passing through one secured door after another, she did not see a single bathroom. Dammit, where are they? There has to be one somewhere! Abby looked imploringly down the hall, looking at every door they passed and hoping beyond hope it was what she was looking for. But with every step, she was growing seriously concerned. If she couldn’t find a bathroom before the meeting started, she would be in some serious trouble. Who knew how long it would take? There were still a lot of details to discuss, they could very well be in there for hours. Abby shuddered at the thought, grimacing at how full her bladder was already. No, there was no way she could last. She had to find a toilet now, she must! “And here we are!” Abby’s head snapped up at the sound of Thomas’ voice and saw to her horror that they had arrived at the conference room. No, not yet! She looked around wildly, praying for a bathroom, anything, anywhere! But there were none, and with no possible excuse to turn around, she found herself walking through the doorway into the large room beyond. It was quite spacious and modern looking, with a large wooden table in the middle stretching across the length of the room. Half the seats were already occupied by an array of well-dressed businessmen and women, having waited patiently for their arrival. As the rest of them began taking their seats in the remaining unoccupied chairs, Abby’s heart began pounding as she started to panic. The searing between her legs burned with intensity beneath the fabric of her gray skirt, and her bladder throbbed fiercely within her abdomen. Her situation was dire, and she simply couldn’t afford to sit and try to wait out this meeting. She’d have to ask to be excused. There was chatter around the table as people sat talking among themselves while they waited for the new arrivals to get settled. This was her chance to sneak in a quick request; she’d be out of the room before anyone even realized. She began to turn to the front of the room where Susan and Thomas stood, practicing in her head the request she was about to make. She’d only taken two steps, however, when Susan suddenly cleared her throat to get everybody’s attention. “Everyone, I’d just like to take a moment to introduce these two ladies here,” she turned and indicated to Abby — who immediately froze on the spot as she felt the entire room turn their eyes onto her — and to Mrs. Wilkins. “Renee Wilkins and Abigail Moore! They’ve been working closely with us for some time now and have done impeccable work in their management of the finances regarding the expansion effort. Anyways, since it’s their first time in the building, I just wanted to make sure everyone was well acquainted with them.” Abby smiled nervously at the room in acknowledgement, painfully aware of everyone looking at her, doing her utmost to keep herself still, but that was nigh on impossible. Her heart began pounding even harder as she realized the room had gone silent and everyone’s attention was now focused up at the front where Susan and Thomas were already taking their seats. How am I going to excuse myself now?? If she wanted to leave, she’d have to announce it to the whole room while everyone was looking at her. But she couldn’t do that now, not right after she’d been introduced, and not in front of all these people! “Alright,” Thomas, having settled in his seat, spoke to the room. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business!” Nods and the shuffling of folders and papers filled the room as everyone around the table prepared to get started. Abby felt her heart sinking and her panic flaring as she realized that there was no way out. The meeting had begun, and it would look ridiculous and unprofessional if she asked to leave now. With no other choice left, she bowed her head, shuffled over to the empty chair next to Sydney and sat down, directly across from her boss. All the while, her brain was screaming at her to turn around and get out of this room, and her bladder throbbed and pulsed painfully under her skirt. “Now,” Susan was saying, “we have a lot to go over, but let’s try to keep this no longer than two hours, as I know you all have other work to attend to. I’m thinking we can split it up into two parts with a quick break in the middle. That sound okay to everyone? Excellent. Alright, let’s start off with…” Susan’s words melted off into the background as Abby glanced apprehensively at the little round clock that hung on the wall opposite her, her mind racing feverishly. Two hours… But only one thing that Susan had said was running through her mind. A quick break in the middle. That was her final hope. Two hours was downright impossible, but to last one hour until the break… it would be difficult — hell, it would take a gargantuan effort, but she might just be able to hang on. She had to! Because if she couldn’t… she shuddered to even think it. No, that could not happen. She could hold on. She had to.
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