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Preface: Just went through some older writings and decided to throw one out there for the crowd, a piece I jotted down maybe 6 or so years ago. The setting for it all is completely authentic; it is all taking place at my then-current workplace, an IT firm located in the centre of my town. The rest is completely made-up from beginning to end though, and as anyone familiar with IT customs in general can vouch for, it should be noted that I would probably have gotten into big trouble for even letting anyone from the outside into the building in the first place due to security reasons. But hey, that's what fantasies are for. Not necessarily a masterpiece but it'd be a shame to leave any stone unturned in case people will actually enjoy it.

 

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I work at an IT company here in town, not far from my home. It's situated in a large old brick building at the junction of four streets, one of which extends into a walking lane and further on to one of the town squares between a few building blocks. The office building is surrounded by a high picket fence and you have to pass through a gate with a coded tag to unlock it. The same goes for the inside of our office; you have to use your personal tag in order to get through the doors. The building itself is six stories high and our company occupies the three uppermost floors, my department being located at the very top. Inside the backdoor entrance at which you arrive when passing through the gate and across the yard there is an elevator which you have to ride in order to reach our floors.

Anyway, I was out during lunch break one day and just getting back to the office when I noticed a girl walking very awkwardly on the street leading to the junction. She looked really pretty, about 25-30 years old with long brown hair cut into bangs just above her eyes. She wore a tan leather jacket with a black blouse and a tight blue cotton skirt with black tights underneath. She hobbled across the junction towards me just outside the gate with a very worried and stressed look on her face and her legs criss-crossed as she walked. She was obviously desperate for a toilet, which was further confirmed as she approached me. She saw that I was about to open and pass through the gate.

"Excuse me...excuse me, please, I really really need a bathroom. Could I please come in with you and use the toilet? Please? It's an emergency!"

This was simply too good to be true but of course I seized the moment. Now, one policy at my work is that we are not allowed to simply let outside people in just like that but to make sure that they announce their arrival at the reception and receive a visitor card. That policy came in handy as I in all honesty could prolong her desperate wait by making that clear. I decided to take her along with me first though, in order to make sure she couldn't get away and get relief somewhere else.

I let her through the gate and followed her across the yard. She walked with crossed legs and her palms held in front of her skirt, although not quite grabbing herself, probably embarassed to do so in front of a stranger. I blipped the tag at the backdoor entrance and let her in. She moaned "Oh, ooohhh, where are the bathrooms?". I told her that we had to ride the elevator to the reception floor in order to get in. I pressed the elevator button and as luck would have it, I heard it descending from the top floor so we had to wait for maybe a minute before it arrived.

During that time she stood with tightly crossed legs and squirmed around with a really anxious look on her face. She occasionally bent her crossed legs to tighten them even further and held her hands clenched in fists down her sides.

Now, how could I make this last as long as possible?

After about a minute, the elevator opened and we got in. I pressed the button for the 4th floor and it started to ascend. I took the opportunity to explain to her:

"Now, we can't simply allow people in like this so I'll have to get a visitor card from our receptionist in order to let you into the bathroom. it's a security thing." Once again, this just so happened to be a hundred percent true, and not just me coming up with excuses to delay her.

"Oh god, please make it quick!" she gasped, "I... I really can't wait any longer!" I noticed her eyes where starting to get wet and she was sincerely afraid of losing it by now. I was so excited.

We reached the 4th floor and passed through the corridor. She walked with the same desperate cross-legged walk but by now she held herself through her thin cotton skirt as well. I blipped the door that led us through to the reception area but our receptionist hadn't yet arrived from her lunch break.

"She is due to be back at 1 PM and that is just now, so she will probably be back any minute, no worries", I stated casually. But the girl gasped in shock and bent down once again with her hands buried in her crotch.

The thing is that the reception area borders towards the canteen through a short hallway and just on the other side of the wall there are two bathrooms, but I was careful not to reveal any hints that her relief was just a few meters away. I was so nervous that she would discover that, just as I was that any of my colleagues would arrive and wonder what was going on (and show her the toilets). But we were alone there for the moment. I procrastinated on purpose to narrow her chances of making it as much as possible.

"Oh god! Please show me the bathroom, I will be quick! Can't we sort this out afterwards? I'm losing it!". She was so anxious by now that she almost started crying. She looked and sounded so helpless and I so wanted her to piss herself right there in the hallway!

I persisted on waiting for the receptionist when the girl suddenly tightened her legs against each other and a faint hiss was heard. I saw a couple of streaks down her pantihose and a slight drizzle on the floor around her feet. A wet patch quickly emerged on her skirt around her hands, desperately trying to prevent an accident. She gasped and moaned and just about started crying when she desperately uttered: "Oh no! Please, please, take me to a toilet!! Please!!"

Her cute and anxious plea almost made my heart melt. I was also afraid that she would start wandering around at find out about the bathrooms around the corner, so I sort of reluctantly suggested that we took the elevator to the top floor where my department was, and use the bathrooms there and sort out the visitor thing afterwards. I went to the hallway door and blipped it open and let her through. She was running with small, mincing steps along the hallway to the elevator. I pressed the button and it opened immediately. Damnit!

We both went inside and I pressed the 6th floor button and it started to ascend. She pressed her hands against her skirt and crossed her legs tightly, now softly crying from the embarassment. We reached the top floor in about 20 seconds and I decided to take a last chance to tip her desperation over the edge; What if I would have forgotten my keys and tag downstairs at the reception... It was a big gamble since I obviously had blipped us through the reception doorway, but I bet it all on that she hadn't thought of that in the haze of her urgent state.

As we stepped out and were faced with the door to our office floor, I started fumbling around in my pockets, pretending to look for my keys. She looked with big anticipating tear-filled eyes at what I was doing, still pressing her hands through her skirt. I then stated that I had lost my keys and that they must be laying somewhere in the reception area. She panicked: "You're joking!! I must get in now!! Oh please, don't do this!!!" she cried.

I pressed the button for the elevator again, trying to make the impression that I was hurrying things along. The elevator had left the top floor and reached the bottom since we got out of it so we would have to wait for it yet again.

That turned out to be the tipping point; she suddenly shrieked and clenched her legs together with all her might and crouched down slightly and I heard another muffled hiss as the patch on her skirt quickly spread around her gripping hands. Her wee sprinkled down her legs and dripped onto the floor. This was it, her bladder is overflowing, she is trapped here, cut off from all possible sources of relief. I was about to witness the cutest girl soak herself in total desperation!

But as fate would have it someone inside the office space was on his way out and the door suddenly clicked and opened. I silently cursed as I simultaneously tried to get my head together in order to explain what I was doing up here with an unfamiliar girl on the brink of wetting herself outside our office. One of my co-workers stepped through the door and looked quite puzzled at the sight of the devastated and humiliated girl, standing with her back leaning against the wall, bent halfway down with pee dripping from her skirt.

"Er... she needed a toilet so I promised that she could use ours..." was my ingenious reply to his yet unspoken confusion.

"Oh... oh dear! Get in here, quickly!" he replied as he grasped the emergency of the situation. "The toilets are over there, across the floor."

She reacted instantly on the invitation and waddled through the door, twisting her legs together as she hobbled forward toward the toilets at the far end of the office landscape. She was obviously continuing to wet herself slightly as she walked as the pee glistened down the back of her legs, leaving a trail on the grey floor. The staff sitting in their office booths were obviously startled by the whole spectacle. The humiliation must have been unbarable and her face was all red and teary.

She hadn't quite lost all control yet as she reached the toilet doors but her skirt was visibly wet both at the front and back.

She tried the first door, only to find it locked. She gasped loudly at the momentary shock of not finding salvation and tried the other door.

Guess what - occupied as well! Her very last chance of regaining even the smallest amount of dignity was denied at the finish line!

She started full-on crying her eyes out as her bladder started forcing out the vast remainder of its contents. It was like trying to hold the end of a faucet; the pee sprayed out between her tightly clenched legs, both downward onto her calves as well as outward through her skirt and hands where she was holding herself for dear life. She desperately tried the handle once again, all in vain of course, as her catastrophic wetting continued. Her skirt was all but totally soaked and the gusher went in every direction around her legs in a loud hiss, drenching her pantyhose and splashing onto the floor, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I couldn't help but feeling quilty, bearing quite a bit of responsibility for her accident, but I sort of hung up my consciense on the company's visitor policies. She was devastated though. The toilets remained occupied during the course of her wetting and when it finally stopped after over a minute of gushing and spraying she crouched down over the lake she had made with her hands over her face, helplessly crying.

I wanted to spare her as much further humiliation as possible so I led her back to the elevator and took her down to the reception floor where I told her to wait behind while I went and talked to our receptionist lady about how we could help her. She is a very nice and caring lady and was genuinely concerned for the poor girl. She took over from there and called for an acquaintance of the girl to come and pick her up.

I did feel bad for delaying her so long that she pissed herself, and in front of our office staff at that, but the reptile part of my brain couldn't help but feeling an enormous gratitude for being able to orchestrate such a glorious wetting incident.

Edited by Apan (see edit history)
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8 hours ago, LilMiss said:

Um really glad this is fiction. Otherwise it would be way too hard for me to enjoy it.

I felt the same when I read it back all these years later. My fictional me was a bit too malevolent for comfort and the circumstances were a bit too contrived to be fully believable, which is probably why I never bothered posting it back then. I don't really care for stories, fictional or real, where someone is deliberately setting up obstacles for the desperate story subject. I love accidental wettings, but I like them to be the natural result of circumstances beyond one's control rather than deliberate plotting. Much more realistic and much less morally hazardous.

That said, some people like this angle and that's why I decided to issue it after all.

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