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  1. Cassie held her breath, glancing nervously around as she stepped out of the shower in the girls' locker room. Wringing her shoulder-length brown hair, she quickly grabbed a towel and scampered over to her locker, quickly dressed into her faded jeans, yellow t-shirt and the black platform flip flops that her friend Sara coerced her into wearing. Sara knew Cassie was self-conscious about her feet; maybe she wanted her to get over it. Luckily, she was able to avoid being seen before dressing and exposing her youthful figure. Even though she drank a full glass of orange juice at breakfast and had a bottle of Gatorade while walking to school, she was parched from the rigorous basketball game she had played. She took multiple long drinks from the water fountain before leaving for her algebra class. “Cassie, wait up!” She turned around. Her best friend Sara hurried to catch up to her. “Nice three at the end of the game there, we would have had you guys!” Although she was much more outgoing than Cassie was, Sara lacked her natural grace and was well aware of that fact. “Thanks,” Cassie said meekly, “But we did have Brittany on our team, she scored most of the points.” “Yeah right,” Sara said, “You know you won the game. MVP baby, right here!” She announced the words loudly and gestured at Cassie, garnering many stares and a couple of smiles. Cassie could only laugh anxiously as Sara wrapped her arms around her. They arrived at Cassie's class. “Alright,” Sara said, “See you at lunch. And I like your shoes by the way.” She looked at Cassie's toes in the flattering sandals and continued down the hall, leaving Cassie at the mercy of Mr. Wolfe, the 11th grade algebra teacher who was less than liked by his students. Cassie sighed and stepped inside. The class proceeded without incident. The teacher picked up where he had left off yesterday, discussing factoring of polynomials. Cassie understood the basics, but the idea was not quite solid in her head just yet, so she listened intently. She finally got the hang of it after a few practice problems. Secure in the idea that she would get a good grade on the next test, she relaxed a little, and then became aware of a different problem. Her bladder twinged, causing her to tense up the lower half of her body. With her attention focused on the class, she barely noticed it and was able to ignore the slight twinges. What she was not quite used to though was the length of her classes. She was used to having many classes for short times, meaning more breaks in between. In her new school, the classes were over an hour and a half long, threatening much more strain on her weak bladder. In the last half-hour of class, she was aware that the slight twinges had turned into a stronger and more constant urge. Her hand twitched, as she nearly made the decision to raise it to ask to use the restroom, but decided against it. She remembered the kids who always had to go, and were teased for their apparent difficulty in controlling their bladders. And if not for her being extremely reserved, she would have been one of them. She remembered how she would cross her legs in her desk, and rush to the bathroom every so often. This year though, each class was more than twice as long as the classes at her old school. And not to mention the fact that she must have drunk more than a quart of liquid this morning. By the end of the class, she had to concentrate on holding it. Although she knew she wasn't really desperate, she was still quite uncomfortable. She pressed her palm into her crotch when she was sure nobody was looking. Thankful to be out of math, she hurried to the nearest restroom. A small crowd of girls had gathered around the door, which was wedged open. A maintenance worker was visible inside, wrestling with a broken pipe. “Sorry girls,” he said, “This one's out of action for now, you'll have to use the one over by the gym.” Cassie whimpered quietly. The gym restroom was on the far end of the campus, and she wouldn't have enough time to get to her Spanish class afterward. Her Spanish teacher did not tolerate lateness and she had already been late more than once, so relieving herself now was out of the question. She grimaced at the thought of going another class while holding it, but she had never wet herself before and the thought of an accident didn't even cross her mind. “Buenos dias Cassie,” her teacher said as she entered her Spanish classroom. She returned the greeting quietly and dropped into her seat. She found herself shifting somewhat to ease the pressure on her bladder. Soon afterwards, Dylan walked into the room. Cassie had a terrible crush on the blonde junior, yet could not bring herself to tell him. He smiled at her, and noticed her wiggling slightly. “You alright?” he asked nonchalantly. “Hey, yeah I'm fine,” Cassie replied, unable to suppress the quiver in her voice. She hoped he didn't pick up on the fact that she was not herself around him, and that she badly had to pee. She was sure she had embarrassed herself enough this year that he would never see her as any more than an acquaintance, let alone return her feelings. For his sake, she had to remain calm! She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and was able to sit still. Then, a powerful urge hit her. She jammed her hand into her crotch and bit her lip, only barely hanging on. She scrunched her toes at the force of the contraction, which eventually subsided. “Alright, that was the worst of it,” she thought to herself, “I'll be able to hold it just fine now. Heh, and I thought for a second I wasn't going to make it.” She felt the pressure subside a bit, and was able to concentrate on the lesson. Spanish was her best subject, and she had no trouble remembering the lists of vocabulary and conjugation charts. Minutes later, another wave hit her, causing her to shiver and to leak some urine into her panties. She knew she was in trouble now; it was either ask to go, or wet herself in class. And the latter was utterly and completely out of the question. She raised her hand. When she asked, the teacher said, “okay, i need your ''thing'' !” She had handed out restroom passes to everybody at the beginning of the semester, and required the students to have her sign it before they could leave. Cassie forgot all about the pass, and now frantically dug through her backpack and folders for the small slip. After some minutes of searching, she was unable to come up with it. “Sorry,” the teacher said, “I can't let you go if you lost your pass.” Disheartened, she put her head down on her desk. What now? The trickle of pee she released earlier was now getting cold, and she could feel it against her girlhood, reminding her of the pent-up liquid inside. She had made up her mind. She was going to hold it no matter what. Her bladder burned, but there was no way that she would accept the towering shame of wetting her pants. She was in high school; girls her age just didn't do that. A few minutes later, she felt a huge wave of pressure on top of the continuous push she had been fighting. She leaked again, but this one did not stop. She slammed both hands into her crotch and leaned over in her seat, trying to stop peeing. After a long time, she regained control. A small wet spot had appeared on her jeans. She immediately felt her face and upper body grow hot. She knew she was blushing brightly, but barely cared. What mattered was making sure what just happened, didn't happen again. She had to do something. There was no way she would be able to stop it if her bladder contracted again with that much force. She went to the teacher's desk and whispered, “I don't have my pass, but can I please just go? It's an emergency.” She was squirming obviously, attracting whispers from a few people. She looked around. Some averted their eyes, giggling quietly. Others were smiling and talking covertly to one another. Dylan just looked at her, his expression shifting from thoughtfulness to sympathy. She couldn't bear to look back at him any longer in her current state. She looked back at the teacher, who finally sighed, “Alright, you can go. But make it quick.” “Oh thank you, I promise I'll be back soon,” she said, as she half-sprinted, half-hobbled out the door. She made her way back to the nearest restroom. The maintenance worker was still in there, and thankfully the sound of rushing water had subsided. The door was blocked by an “out of order” sign, but her need to relieve herself overruled her desire to stay low-key. “Excuse me, can I come in? I'll only be a second, please?” she said, her voice carrying obvious stress. “Well, he said, “If you can wait another five minutes or so, I'll be all done. I'm sorry but I can't let anybody in until then.” She whimpered loudly and hobbled off towards the far side of the school. Some people were staring at her now, as she couldn't walk properly, and she had a hand buried between her legs. But there was nothing she could do about it; if she tried to walk normally, she would wet herself right then and there. The gym was right in front of her. The locker room bathroom was one more door away. She was so close! “Please be open, please be open!” she said to herself. She pulled on the locker room door. Success! She staggered inside, leaking a little more with every step. She was thinking already of how good it would feel when she sat down. Just then, another big push stopped her in her tracks. She cried out fearfully; her clenched muscles were just too tired to hold it for a second longer. The pain was unreal; if she could only let go for a moment! She moaned and relaxed her strained muscles, the pee spraying from her urethra and splashing back against her girlhood. Panic gripped her immediately. She tried again to stop the flood, but she just couldn't do it. She stood in the locker room, half-bent over, with urine filling her panties, running down one pant leg and wetting her hands, which were pressed into her crotch. “No, no,” she cried, barely able to breathe for disbelief of what was happening to her. She, a eleventeen year-old girl, was having a major accident in school. She sat on a bench, still peeing freely, the wetness seeping down to the back of her pants. She leaned her head back against a row of lockers, allowing the tears to flow freely from her eyes and make shiny tracks down her face. Her right shoe squelched, as some pee was trickling down her inner thigh and pant leg into the spongy sole of the flip flop. She forced herself to stand up and wipe her eyes. She couldn't just sit in here and cry until her clothes dried out. She figured she'd have to go to the office to call her parents. But just as she went to leave, the bell rang. She knew that in any second, the locker room would be full of other students who would taunt her mercilessly. Blinking back more tears, she retreated to a stall in the bathroom, figuring that she'd wait until everybody was gone. After the commotion in the locker room had faded, she peeked out of the stall. The coast was clear, for now. She would have to try to find a way to the office without being seen. But now it was lunch time! Throngs of students filled the courtyard and surrounding areas. Her stomach twisted in horror at the idea of marching through thousands of students with her tearstained face and pee-soaked jeans. She'd just call her parents from her cell phone; they'd understand that she could skip her last class for such a socially crippling situation. She drew her phone from her pocket. The display showed one bar, horrible reception from inside the locker room; she'd have to go outside. With utmost caution, she sneaked out the back of the gym. She dialed her mom's number on her phone while she was crouched behind a wall. “Come on, pick up,” she whispered, but the phone kept ringing. She clapped the phone shut as it went to voicemail. She breathed out in exasperation, but then covered her mouth as she heard footsteps behind her. They were getting closer, but if she moved, she'd give herself away. She just stayed still, hoping that she wouldn't be found by whoever it was. Thankfully, the footsteps began to fade, and as soon as she thought the person was gone, her phone rang. It was her mother returning her call. There was no way she could answer it now, so she just silenced it and buried her face in her knees, the wetness still causing her jeans to cling to her legs. “Cassie, is that you? Where are you?” the person asked. Of all people, it was Dylan. The last possible person she would ever choose to see her in this scenario is about to find her. She sat tight until he walked around the low wall she was hiding behind. She looked up at him with wide eyes, not having the slightest clue of what he was going to say. “Heh, what are you doing over here, why are you hiding?” he asked, gazing down at her on the ground, with her knees pulled to her chest. She didn't say anything. He knelt down to her. “Really, what's wrong? I saw you run out of the class and I knew the closest bathroom was closed, what happened?” “I-- didn't make it,” she said in a nearly inaudible voice. She lay her legs out flat, revealing the massive wet patch on her jeans that stretched from her crotch down to her right ankle. She felt prickling heat again in her cheeks. She couldn't bear to look at him, so just turned her head with her eyes closed as he looked at the damage. “Oh... that sucks,” he said, now with his voice losing its strength. “You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?” Bracing herself for his response, she finally forced herself to meet his gaze, though she was sure her bright blush was far too obvious. He put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to gasp faintly. “Don't worry,” he said, “I won't tell anybody.” He cautiously let his hand slide down her arm and into her hand, giving her goosebumps. “I promise, it will be our little secret.” He gripped her hand harder and pulled her to her feet. With his very forward display of affection, Cassie felt bold enough to return some. “Thanks,” she said, hugging him, but careful not to press her wetness into him. Taken completely by surprise, she found herself being pulled towards him. His hands rested on the small of her back as he held her close. Through her chilly panties, she could feel the stiffness in his crotch. It was though a surge of electricity had gone through her. “It might be a silly question,” he said softly, “but... do you like me? As in, like, you know.” It was now or never. She could believe this was actually happening! Here she was, standing in sodden jeans, pressed against the boy she was too afraid to talk to. She whispered timidly, “Yes.” He grinned at her. He breathed in deeply. Cassie could feel his heartbeat increase along with her own, as her small breasts were against his toned body. She leaned her head forward, carefully, and touched her lips to his. He returned the kiss gently; he must have known it was her first time. But then he broke away from her. “What is it?” she asked, moving towards her again. “Cassie, we're still in school,” he said. “We can't stay here, lunch is almost over.” “Well I can't exactly go to class like this!” she said, gesturing to her wet jeans. “I'll tell you what, how about I take you home?” “What, you mean, in your car? Now?” she stammered. “I mean, yeah that would be great!” “Yeah,” he replied, “It'll be no problem. I've got an off-block anyway.” “I really appreciate it,” she replied, and followed Dylan to his car. The ride to her house was strangely silent. Cassie feared it might be awkward, since the windows were up and she smelled faintly of urine. She spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. “So, you really don't mind?” “I don't mind what?” “That I, you know, wet myself. I mean, there are plenty of girls out there who never have, and here you are, in the car with me.” He laughed. “Heh, actually I kind of like..." He trailed off. “You like what?” she asked him, pushing him to finish his sentence. “Nevermind.” “Did he say what I think he said?” Cassie thought to herself, “Was he going to say he likes it?” She looked at him, watching the color rise in his cheeks this time. “Dylan, were you going to say you liked it when you saw me wet? Oh, and it's this house on the right.” He pulled into her driveway. He squirmed in his seat, his skin still with a deep blush. “Well, yeah, umm, we're here. I'm sorry, but I've really got to go. Talk to you soon.” Cassie figured if he were this nervous, she shouldn't press the issue. She kissed him with an energetic smile, and watched as he pulled away. She couldn't help but squeal, bubbling over with emotion as she was. And to think, that during her accident, she thought it would turn out to be a bad day..
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