Written by Veronique

      The day after my trip to the Oktoberfest I woke up in the late morning and a screaming headache. I looked beside me and saw that Tobi wasn't in the bed anymore and I remembered that he said he had to do some work in the morning.

      I turned around in the bed and I noticed that my bladder was full. I thought about the night before and what happend. I met a man who was also in pee holding like me, and I was glad to know where I have to go in the future to play my little games.

      I fell asleep again and woke up later because my bladder was really full now. My head was still aching and I didn't want to get up yet and so I tried to get in a position there my bladder has more space and so I lay an my left side, curling my body into a fetal position. It felt much better in my lower area, but my head still felt as if someone was hammering against my brain.

      As I continued to lie there, the pressure on my bladder steadily contined to increase. I turned on my back and tried to pull my feet close to my butt. This helped the pain to decrease again, but I knew I couldn't last much longer and would soon be forced to get up.

      This pain was quite different to what I had experienced the day before; it was not the rapidly growing urge to go, but a constant need to clamp my muscles. It was a pain that told me my bladder wasn't able to stretch any more because it had filled overnight and was now at capacity. There was no room in there for even one more drop of pee.

      Between my legs, the sharp urge to pee arrived and I tried to massage my pussy to keep the pain in a state I could deal with, just for a little longer. It was no good; I simply had to get up.nThis would not not easy because I had to try slowly to get my body up and my feet out of the bed without pushing onto my overfilled bladder.

      I carefully lifted up my body and turned on my butt without moving my legs and put them on the floor. I sat there on the edge of the bed, forced to bend forward in order to bear the incredible pressure my poor bladder was now experiencing. I looked down on my stomach and could see how swollen the area between my hips had become. I tried to massage my lower abandom to ease the pain, but even the slightest touch made my bladder scream.

      My sphinctor muscles hurt incredibly now, they were so tired. To help them in their fight against the urge to release my pee, I thrust both hands between my legs to stem the potential flow, and tried to stand up.

      As I rose, the ponderous weight of my bladder pressed on my sphincter and I nearly lost control. I pressed my hands hard against my peehole and started to shuffling towards the bathroom. My steps were tiny because every one jolted my bladder, taking me to the brink of release.

      When I tried the handle on the lavatory door, I found it locked. A notice had been stuck to the door informing me that the key was "where the green line on the wall hit the big shadow of the cup in the morning!"

      I nearly cried, I was not in the state to do a quiz now and I thought what I could do else. I tried the door again, but it was definitely locked. I groaned and bent double; the pain in my bladder was enormous and I was sure I had to pee in the next few minutes or I would burst.

      I remembered a bar on the ground floor of the house, and knew it was my only chance. I had to get down there fast or I would wet on the floor.

      I walked to a chair and sat down, planning to try to relax for a few moments. It was no good. I had not time to lose! I got straight back up and reached for my jeans hanging on a nearby chair. I was totally naked, but I was in such a hurry I decided to put on only my jeans and shirt. If I delayed to put on my panties and bra too, I would never make it.

      I sat again, and ran into trouble when I tried to reach down to slide my feet into the legs of my jeans. The pain was unbelievable!

      Somehow, I have no idea how, I managed to insert both feet, but now I was faced with the problem of actually pulling my jeans up. To lean down and farther would squash my bladder and it would just explode! I reached down my side to avoid bending too far, took hold of the waistband of my jeans, then stood as I pulled them up my legs. The pain reached a new peak.

      With one hand between my legs, I wriggled my jeans up to my hips, then took my hand away just long enough to pull them up completely. It was impossible to close the waistband, so I resorted to pulling up only the zip as far as it would go over the bulge of my abdomen. I tugged it as far up as I could go since I was not wearing panties and did not want to be considered an exhibitionist. I used my shirt to cover my private area, at least enough for me to be able to walk downstairs. Even the act of stretching my shirt down nearly made me pee my pants.

      I couldn't walk, so I tried to sit down again for momentary relief. Unfortunately, now that I was wearing jeans, sitting was no longer an option. Even standing up, I was distressed because the jeans, even unbuttoined, somehow cut into my lower abandom and made my situation even worse! Things were so bad that even my necessary pee dancing hurt with every movement I made.

      I hobbled to the door and tried to slip my feet into my shoes. These movements made me leak a little, and unable to do agnything to stop it, I decided to use Tobi's flip flops which were far easier to put on.

      I frantically searched for a front door key to the apartment, thankfully found one quickly and stepped out into the hallway. I walked stiffly towards the elevater, and on arrival, pressed the button and waited.. The discomfort around my abandom diminished. I vaguely wondered why that should be. At the same time, the pain between my legs grew worse, a burning sensation that forced me to press both hand between my legs in order to hold back the pee.

      I couldn't even stand up straight now, the pain was that intense. I knew that it would be obvious to anyone who saw me that I was nearly peeing myself, but I had no choice.

      After what felt like an age, the elevater arrived. The doors parted and I quickly stepped, then pressed the button for the ground floor. Luckily nobody else was in there with me and I was able to stand there rubbing my pussy in an effort to ease the pain. It no longer seemed to help.

      I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on not letting go until I felt the evelator stop with a bump and heard the doors slide apart. I made myself step out without holding myself, and almost immediately I was compelled to bend over, one hand in my pocket to press into my crotch.

      At the main door of the building, I realized that the desperate massaging I was doing with my hand was forcing open the zipper on my jeans. I was going to show everything if I didn't quickly pull it up again. I tugged it as far up my swollen abdomen as it would go, but as son as I resumed massaging my aching pussy, the zipper slid apart once more. I couldn't stop massaging myself or I would start to pee uncontrollably, so I did my best to pull up my jeans with my other hand as I continued to rub myself.

      Outside, I looked towards the entrance to the bar. It was fifty metres away. I moaned under my breath and started walking towards it, taking tiny steps to avoid jolting my bursting bladder. It seemed to take an hour to cover that short distance, but at last I was at the door and pushing it open, trying to look composed while, inside, my body was screaming for relief.

      Inside, a man stood mopping the floor. Standing half bent over in front of him,both handshammed into my pockets both to hold the jeans up and to cover my crotch, not to mention holding in my pee, I asked him the way to the toilets. He informed me that the bar had no facilities because they only sold things to go, and I would therefore have to find a toilet somewhere else.

      I knew I couldn't hold it any longer and asked if there was a staff toilet. He said that of course there was one, but he could not allow a customer to use it. I felt like I was leaking, but I wasn't sure. I avoided looking down at my crotch as I stood there wondering what to do. I certainly couldn't hold it much longer. I considered going back to the apartment, but I knew I would never arrive dry.

      The man must have seen that I was going to pee my pants any second because, without thinking, I started to rub my pussy again. I couldn't stop. It was either that or wet myself where I stood. The man asked me if I was really bad, and I replied that I would loose it any second.

      His resolve weakened, and setting down his mop, he inclined his head as if to say, follow me. He was actually guiding me to the staff toilets. I could have cried with relief.

      Almost there, I had to stop walking and bend over. As I did this, my jeans slipped down a bit and the mane must have seen my naked pussy and my hands full in action. I didn't care; I was in too much pain to stop.

      I hobbled the last four steps into the stall, my thighs pressed togeeher. I turned on my heels without moving my legs, my jeans already down to my knees. I didn't have time to close the door - I just dropped down onto the bowl of the toilet and let the pee gushed out of me.

      The man must have seen everything but was polite enough to close the door and leave me to it, returning, I assume, to continue mopping the floor in the bar.

      I must have sat there for about five minutes. I didn't need this long to empty my bladder, but I had to give my body time to relax. My lower abandom still throbbed painfully, and it was not at all easy for me to straighten up, even though my bladder was now empty.

      At last, I pulled up my jeans and went out, thanking the man for letting me use the toilets as I passed through the bar. I thanked the guy to let me use the toilets. He had gallantly protected me from humiliation. If he hadn't, I would surely have disgraced myself in public because I could not possibly have held in my pee any longer.

      FOOTNOTE: I never met Tobi since that day because I don't like to get set up. Normally I want to do these thing when I'm on my own. All the same, maybe I will call him again in the future.