The Bathroom

The Bathroom

ARMY GIRL

Private Jones and the rest of the women soldiers in her room at the army barracks were woken by alarm bells. The sergeant had come in through the door. “Wake up, you’ve got twenty minutes to make your bed, get washed and changed,” he said. All the women were struggling to get organised. Jones reminded herself… it was the day of the big parade, and she had to prepare her uniform for later.

At breakfast, she was slightly more nervous than normal and she felt her mouth was a bit dry, so she drank three glasses of water with her meal. She needed to be rehydrated as she may not be able to eat or drink anything else until later in the afternoon. She felt a slight twinge in her bladder, but she wasn’t desperate, so she didn’t go to the toilet.

After the regular kit, room and other inspections, the women prepared to change into their uniforms for the parade. Private Jones put on her uniform and looked in the mirror. The uniform was a khaki green jacket with one stripe (for private) on each sleeve, with gold buttons covering a white blouse and black tie, a khaki green skirt and black Dr Martens shoes, which had to be polished so thoroughly so they shined. There was also an officer-style hat which they had to wear on occasions like this. She kept making small rearrangements in her uniform when the twinge in her bladder came back… again she ignored it… she felt she could hold it.

However, when she had to travel with the other women on the bus to go to the parade, she started to fidget. She should have gone while she was back at the barracks. The journey took an hour, but her need to pee became urgent. She sat in the bus with her legs tight together. She also clenched her bladder muscles and tried not to think about it. When they got to the parade area, there was no time for the women soldiers either to use the toilet or to do anything else.

They had to get ready for the parade, in which all soldiers had to march in their battalions down to the recreation ground, Private Jones was bursting. She been clenching her bladder muscles for sometime and didn’t know how much longer she can hold on for. She could not sigh or do anything like that… she felt she had to be in control of her faculties.

Across the recreation ground, there were some large rows of soldiers lined up and the crowds were cheering them. His Holiness the Mayor was there and was to meet each of the battalions in turn. As hers was near the end, Private Jones had to wait until their mayor had seen them, which made matters worse. She found it extremely difficult to keep still, and needed to pee badly. She could not fidget or cross her legs… she had to stand completely still with her hands by her side and staring in front of her. She was now clenching her bum cheeks and continued to flex her bladder muscles in order to maintain some control.

It took a long time (at least thirty minutes) for the Mayor to come to her battalion and by then Private Jones felt she was going to lose it. She was so distracted by her desperation that she did not notice the Mayor standing.

“Hello, young lady,” the Mayor said.

“Er…er, sorry,” she replied. For that split second she felt a little pee leak into her panties. She felt horrified, but tried not to show it. Some more pee leaked again then soaking her panty gusset. The Mayor had been talking to her for five minutes, but she wished he would move on. However, after several hours of holding her pee, Private Jones couldn’t take it any more. Pee started trickling rivulets down her inner thighs. She was so relived to let go, but as usual she could not show it to the Mayor, nor to anybody else.

When the parade was over, she dashed to the toilets at the ground. She locked herself into one of the cubicles to inspect the damage. To her relief only her panties were wet, but not her skirt. However, she may not be able to disguise the smell when the soldiers get on the bus to go back to the barracks.