Desperation and wetting



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Posted by Annie on December 21, 1998 at 11:03

Here are two true desperation stories from my short period as a Red Cross trainee in one of their youth groups in Norway - I was 13 or 14 at the time, and still very afraid of wetting myself at places where there were no toilets. I was also very shy and never asked any strangers or people I didn't know the way to the toilets.

My cousin was a year older than me, and we both were in the same Red Cross group. One day we were going to collect money for some humanitarian purpose, I don't remember exactly what. After our group meeting, a bus would take us to a centre in a community house where we would register to go out in the neighbourhood from door to door to collect money. At the meeting, still at the Red Cross house, I felt I needed to go to the bathroom. I wanted to use the facilities there, but thought it was so embarrassing to ask permission from the meeting to go and use the bathrooms. I was only 14 and thought everyone (including the boys) would guess why I left the table, and that was worse that to hold on. So I did. I thought maybe I could sneak out when everyone were getting on the bus. After a little while, I had to wiggle a bit on my chair. After a little more wiggling, I decided to go to the bathroom anyway, because it felt so much worse on my bladder and I didn't want to be too obvious about my need. I figured it was better to leave that to sit as a baby and wiggle on my chair. I rose from my chair, but at that moment everyones attention was drawn to something happening at the board in front, and no one saw me standing there (I was in the back), and therefore no one made room for me to pass them. I didn't have the nerve to ask them. I was a very shy girl. I stood there hoping for someone to notice me and move their chairs, but no one did. Then I felt a wave hit my bladder, and quickly sat down again. The worst thing is to stand when your bladder is like that. Soon after, the meeting was over and we were told to get in the bus. It was waiting on the outside. We were told to hurry up, because we were late already. I said to my cousin I had to go, but she didn't know how desperate I already was and said they had toilets at the community house we were going to, and that the bus would leave soon and we better get on it right now. So I did, too embarrassed to admit I had already waited too long. I sat down in my seat next to my cousin and of course we didn't leave at once. Someone were late, as usual, and we had to wait. I thought about going out of the bus again to use the bathrooms, but didn't dare to because everyone were counted and our leaders were eager to go and hushed everyone onboard the bus. There were no toilets in the bus. I wiggled in my seat and tried to hide it by looking out of the window, turning round in my seat to the people at the back and so on. But by then I was pretty desperate. Then the bus started to go. I suddenly was aware that the bus was taking another route that the one directly to the community house maybe 20 minutes away. It was going to pick up some people another place before it turned again and headed for our destination. That't why we were in a hurry, because they were waiting. We had been told this during the meeting, but I had been so concentrated on holding it during the meeting that some of the information just had slipped my ears. I asked my cousin how long it would be until we got to the community house, and if she knew where the toilets were. She guessed it would be about half an hour until we got there, but she didn't know exactly where the toilets were, none of us had been there before.

I remember the bus trip as a pure hell. I was so afraid I would wet myself that I started crying. My hands were in my crotch and I was fidgeting in my seat. My cousin looked at me and asked if I had to go so bad. I cried that I had to go so bad I would probably wet myself. By then, I didn't care about the other people in the bus, all I cared about were my pants not getting wet. I remember a few of them turning round as I said I would wet myself. Then my cousin said: "We're here! It's here!" And everyone started to get off the bus. I got off the bus with my hands in my crotch and asked the first local person I saw for the toilets. My desperate situation made me ask, I would never have asked if I hadn't been that desperate. My cousin went with me and pointed at the toilets, she saw them first. But there was a huge line in front of them. My cousin left me in the line and went for our registration cards. I was dancing around like mad, holding my crotch, but still too shy to ask people in the line to let me go first. At last, after a minute or so, a young man in the queue said to me to go up in front and ask to go first. By then I thought I wouldn't be able to walk that far without wetting. I just looked at him and said "I don't think I will make it, I don't know what to do". He then went up front to ask them to let me in next. A lot of people in the line were looking at me by then. He turned to me and said: "Come on, hold on, it's your turn next" and he smiled at me. Then I felt, to my horror, my muscles giving in and although my hands were deep into my crotch, my pee started to gush out of me full stream. I ran to the toilet door, but it was of course locked - the person in there hadn't finished. I heard "oooh", "oooops" and "she pees her pants" and a bit of laughing from the people in the line. I just stood there, unable to regain control of my bladder, and a puddle formed at my feet as my pants got wetter and wetter. I let go of the hands in my crotch and just looked down on my puddle, and I started crying silently. I was one wet girl. Everyone could see it, because I wore blue jeans. The man that had been such a gentleman, but a little too late, said to me "It's all right, it could happen to everyone" and then he asked me if I was with someone. I said yes, and told him my cousin was getting our registration cards. He asked me her name, and left me there with another man that he obviously knew. This man was trying to calm me down, but I don't remember much of what he said, I didn't even dare look at his face. My cousin came back with one of our Red Cross leaders. She was a little surprised, and told me I should have gone earlier... that made me feel even more stupid. Our leader took me into a room they used for breaks, and there was a telephone there. He told me to call my parents or anyone that could come and get me. I had to call, and I was very afraid of what my mom might say. Luckily, it was my dad who answered the phone. I cried and tried to tell him what had happened, but my cousin had to explain it. He came and picked me up, and he was very nice and made me feel better about it on our way home. At home, my mom gave me a hard time about it, saying I had to clean myself up and that she certainly wasn't going to do any of the laundry, and why couldn't I just go when I had to go like normal people instead of waiting till the last second. I started crying again, not yet out of my wet pants, and my dad took care of everything afterwards - including my mad mom. Luckily, no one else than my cousin and the leader from my group knew what had happened. The others were told I had become sick and picked up by my dad. So no one gave me a hard time about it afterwards. But I was very embarrassed at the next meeting, when my leader smiled at me and said it was all right, he hadn't told anyone.

A later occasion at the Red Cross group occured at at trip to a home for alcoholics, we were to entertain them. After we had finished, we were driven back to the city, left there and told to find our regular buses and go home. I had to go bad, and found my bus - I thought. But I wasn't used to the bus routes in town and took it the wrong way. After a long tour way out of town in a different direction than mine, I asked the driver if it wasn't going to my area. I was fidgeting in my seat by then. He said "yes, but first we'll go back to the city. You took it the wrong way". Close to home, I felt I could not hold it any more, and left the bus way before it was my stop. I had my hands in my crotch - again - and looked for a place to releave myself, a bush or something. But there were only houses nearby. It was dark, so I figured I could go in a back yard or something without being seen. I went into a back yard and found some concrete stairs that went down to the basement from their yard. I thougt "This is the place, or I'll wet myself" It was raining, and that made me feel wet already. I slowly went down the stair, but midways I felt a big hot spurt of pee coming out in my pants. When I sat down at the bottom of the stairs, I noticed my panties and the crotch of my pants were wet already. I hadn't noticed, I had probably leaked on the bus with my hands deep in my crotch, it felt quite numb afterwards. I had to walk back home, it was a long way, and my mom and dad were worried about me when I finally arrived. I told them I had taken the bus the wrong way, and had to walk home. I was wet through all my clothes and my hair from all the rain, and I guess they thought the wet spot in my crotch was also rain. It wasn't very visible, my pants were dark. At least they didn't say anything about it.

Email: anneklink@hotmail.com


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