I MUST Control My Bladder! I've Wet My Panties!
How I hate having this stupid small bladder, it's a permanent curse!
Nicola Stories spoken by Nicola to download now! ~ EVEN SCHOOLTEACHERS NEED TO PEE ~
The Sequel . . .
One of the more pleasant lessons I take at school is the nature ramble around the local park. This takes just over an hour, so it fits nicely into a double period. I always looked forward to this lesson until one day I was taking a class of ten year olds and one of my worst nightmares came true.
There were no loos in the wild part of the park we were visiting, so I always emptied my bladder just before we left. The day was not too warm, so I wore a sweater over a knee length skirt with fairly thick tights and one of my smaller pairs of bikini panties.
Everything went beautifully for the first twenty minutes and the kids were even behaving themselves. Then I got a sudden urge to pee, right out of the blue. One minute I was fine, the next I was bursting to go, a sudden urgent need that was so sharp that I almost leaked a bit into my panties. I stopped and crossed my legs tightly, squeezing my bladder shut and trying to make this urge go away. That was better, but, as soon as I started walking again, I wanted to go as badly as ever. I simply could not believe what was happening to me. Only half an hour since my last wee, I'd had nothing to drink, yet I was bursting to go and not a loo in sight. As quickly as I could I got on to the next part of our teaching program. This let me stand still with my legs crossed while the kids worked around me. I had a chance to take stock of my predicament. I urgently needed a loo, but the nearest one was back at school.
There was no chance of a quick squat behind a bush as no matter how busy they were, 20 alert 10 year olds were not going to miss the sight of their teacher having a wee in the open air. Every detail would be known throughout the school in hours. I just had to wait the 30 or 40 minutes that was left, then I'd get back to the school and the lesson would be over. I told myself that I could not really want to go, as I knew that I couldn't have produced enough wee to fill even my tiny bladder in the half hour since I had last been. It was only imagination and if I concentrated hard enough, the urge would go away. I pressed my thighs together and clenched my bladder shut, telling myself that I didn't want to go and thank goodness, the urge almost went away. I was standing in a classic 'bursting to go' pose and I hoped that none of the kids would recognise this for what it was. I called them together and we moved on to the next stage of the tour, which was centered round a stream and small lake and was a few minutes walk away.
The walk and then the sight and sound of running water were not what my bladder needed and by the time we'd reached our next teaching point I was desperate and it was quite a struggle to walk that far without leaking a few drops into my panties. What was wrong with me? Nearly wetting my pants when I could not have more than a egg-cup of wee in my bladder. I twisted my legs together and tried to force my bladder shut even harder, though I had been really clenching it shut as I had walked. With great difficulty I started to lecture the class about the flora and fauna of ponds and streams, while fighting to avoid starting a small stream in my panties! I tried to keep still, but I had to keep pressing my thighs together and squeezing all my crutch muscles tight while moving my weight from leg to leg, as I struggled to control myself. I was trying to keep the kids' attention on their work and not on teacher, who was now squirming about like a frantic ten year old. "I'll wait here while you look round the pond for the things I have just told you about." I said, finishing my lecture and setting them to work.
'Wait' was the operative word now. I had to wait. If I hurried, I could be back at school and in a loo in twenty minutes and now I was standing still, my need had reduced to an almost bearable level. If only there was somewhere I could sit down and get my heel pressed into my crutch. That would take so much of the strain off my poor bladder. Without thinking, I had adopted the classic 'frantic girl' position; legs knotted, bending forward with my bottom jutting out behind and both hands gripping my skirt just below my crutch. None of the class were behind me, so I took a chance and reached behind me and pressed my hand between my legs from behind. It was indiscreet, ungainly and not even very effective, but in the state I was in, it was better than nothing. I didn't know what was the matter with my bladder, but I was reaching the point when I would not be able to wait any longer and I didn't know what I could do.
All too soon the kids had finished their work and were gathering round me ready to move on. I had to take my hand from between my legs, only then realising how effective it had been in helping me hold on. We had to walk to the other end of the lake and look at the marshy area there. I mentally braced myself for the walk, clenching my bladder shut and trying to keep my thighs pressed together as I walked. Unfortunately, walking like this I could not keep up with the kids and it was obvious that teacher had a major problem. There was nothing for it but to walk normally and try to hang on, which I managed to start with, but as I walked I could feel the last vestiges of control slipping away. I tried telling myself that I just had to hold it until we reached that marsh when I could stand with my legs crossed and get control again, but I simply could not make it. There wasn't far to go, but I simply could not hold it any longer and I let out a small gasp of dismay as I leaked a bit into my panties. A few more yards, nearly at the marsh and I let some more go.
I had to stop and twist my legs together to stop a major flood, so I started my lesson there. Luckily I knew the lesson by heart, so I could talk while concentrating most of my effort on my bladder. I could feel that the gusset of my panties was soaked, but that must have absorbed the leak, as there was nothing trickling down my leg ... yet. My panties were tiny and probably would not absorb another leak and I didn' t think that my tights would absorb anything at all. I might be OK while I was standing still, but there was a lot of walking before I got back to school. I needed to be nearer the marsh to demonstrate a point, which meant walking. This time I tried hurrying, hoping that I might just be able to keep control, but my bladder was tiring from the strain it was under and two more little dribbles got out before I reached the lake side. Now I could feel some wee trickling down the inside of my legs; not much, thank goodness, but enough to reach my knees and the hem of my skirt. Another leak and the kids would be able to see it running down my legs.
It was a long way to the next and last lecture site. I tried with all my strength to hold on.
I was telling myself that I could not possibly let any more go because it would show for sure, then one of the sharp-eyed little monsters would spot it and would tell the rest of the class that teacher was wetting her pants. I've never tried so hard to control my bladder, but I simply did not have the strength to hold it any longer. The only way I could have stopped myself going was to sit on my foot or hold between my legs and both of these were out of the question in the present circumstances as the kids would avidly report their teachers' plight.
As I walked along I could feel my control slipping away and another leak starting. First there was a couple of little dribbles which ran down the inside of my thighs and seemed to just die away above my knees, then a longer, more serious leak, which flooded into my panties gusset and ran down my legs to my ankles.
A quick downward glance was enough to tell me that there were wet streaks all down my legs. Fear of discovery froze my bladder for a bit, but I really was over the limit now and I could not stop another leak before there was a chance to knot my legs once again. This was a really major squirt that went through my gusset, hit my knees and splattered all down my legs. By a stroke of luck, the children's attention was diverted just as this happened, so no one noticed. The last lecture site and another leak was imminent. I knew that I had no hope of walking any further without wetting myself and my panties were already soaked, so I did the only thing I could. I sent the kids over to a small copse to look for fungi and keeping my legs pressed together, just let the rest of my wee go into my panties. If I could manage to let it out slowly when no one was watching, it might not be noticed. Oh the relief as I finally relaxed! The amazing thing was that when I did let go, there wasn't that much more wee to come. My tiny bladder really had excelled itself; I had been frantic, beyond my limit and going in my panties, but I don't think that I'd done more than a large egg-cup full!
A few moments to let the last drops run down my legs, then I could follow the kids and see what they had found. My tights were wet all down my legs, but they had not changed colour too much and it was not really obvious what I had done unless you knew what to look for and the kids would not be expecting their teacher to have wet her panties in the middle of a lesson. After that, the walk back to school was uneventful, though I was very conscious of my soaking panties and wet legs and as soon as I could, I was into the staff loo and trying to dry and clean myself up. The panties were too wet to wear without the risk of a wet mark on my skirt if I sat down, so I had to wear tights only for the rest of the school day and that felt very strange, but it didn't notice. I really could not believe how lucky I had been, in that I had completely broken down and wet my panties in front of a class, but I'd been so skillful and so cunning that they had not noticed.
Nicola
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