Mary needed some extra money so she could buy more presents for her family at Christmas. After applying… and failing…. to get employment elsewhere, she had looked in the newspaper to see this job advert:
PERSON REQUIRED TO ACT AS FATHER CHRISTMAS IN A DEPARTMENT STORE THROUGHOUT THE FESTIVE PERIOD. NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY.
When she applied for the job, she was asked to go to the store recruitment office, where she found out to be the only female in a room of mainly of old and middle-aged men.
Mr Wilkins, the store manager, was very impressed with Mary’s enthusiasm that he gave her the job on the spot, much to the annoyance of the males who wanted the job badly.
After she received some training, she was given a Christmas costume complete with hat and fake beard (well, she is a woman). As it was a bit dusty, she spent one Saturday washing it and getting it ready to wear on Monday.
On a very chilly Monday morning, Mary arrived at the store quite early at round 8.30. It was currently still closed, so she went to a baker’s shop nearby to order a large cup of tea. While she was drinking it, she saw Mr Wilkins.
“Hello Mary. Sorry about this, there’s a power failure at the store, so you may have to wait outside for a while,” he said.
“Okay, no problem,” Mary replied, and carried on drinking her tea. It took her a long time to finish that large tea, and now she was waiting with the rest of the store’s staff.
“Hello, you’re our Father Christmas, right?” one of the female store assistants approached her.
“Yeah, I am,” Mary replied.
“Good luck, you’ll need it,” said the store assistant
“Why?” asked Mary.
“Because I did it last year, and it’s often very long hours with very few breaks, particularly at busy periods,” replied the store assistant.
“Surely they let you go if you need to go to the toilet?” Mary asked again.
“Nope, not here. You got to have a very strong bladder… and hope for the best,” said the store assistant.
About an hour later, power was restored to the store, which suffered as a result of the late opening. Mary immediately put on her costume and walked into her store’s Santa’s grotto, which was basically a small cupboard. She was very nervous about meeting all the children, so she kept a bottle of cola underneath the stool she was to sit on, and inbetween seeing them, she took sips from her drink.
Two hours into her first shift, Mary felt signs of needing to wee. She felt her bladder beginning to fill up, and started to have some discomfort. Half an hour later, she began to fidget a little, and tried to compensate by shifting around on her stool. She hoped she would get a break soon, but there was no word from Mr Wilkins, who was nowhere to be seen in her part of the store for most of the day. She looked at her watch… it was one in the afternoon, but the grotto was still busy with children waiting in the queue to see her.
Another hour later, she was now bursting. She had one large tea and some quantities of cola to relieve herself of, but she couldn’t ask anyone to be excused. Her desperation was almost becoming too noticeable to be hidden. In a bid to hold her wee in, she discreetly pushed one hand in the front of her baggy trousers and tightly grabbed her crotch.
Later, a young boy had come into the grotto.
“Hello, young man. What is your name?” Mary asked the boy.
“Get lost!” he rudely replied.
“What? I beg your pardon?” asked a shocked and amazed Mary.
“Hey, you’re not a real Santa, you’re a girl!” the boy answered back.
“I am the real Father Christmas!” Mary shouted angrily.
The boy started to rummage through the presents, then tried to grab one of them.
“Hey! Leave that alone!” shouted Mary, and grabbed hold of the boy.
The boy suddenly kicked her in the stomach, which started to trigger a spasm in her bladder. A small jet of wee squirted into her knickers, which forced her to let go of the boy and started to grab her crotch. She bent double and winced in agony as the boy was able to get away with one of the presents. For a few moments, she continued to grab herself with all her might in order to prevent more wee coming out. It took her quite a while to regain her composure, but both her stomach and bladder were still hurting, and she also needed to wee.
Another hour had passed, and the grotto was as busy as ever. Mary continued to fidget while talking to the children as she became more and more desperate…. she needed a break right now, but of course she still couldn’t call any of her new colleagues to relieve her, even for a few minutes. Suddenly, she felt more wee squirt into her knickers… she immediately grabbed herself tightly again. She felt a few more squirts before trying to compose herself again.
Mary was now in the grotto since around 9.30, and continued to work in her desperate state without a break. Thankfully, the store assistant she saw earlier looked in to see how she was getting on.
“Hi, Mary. How’s things?” she asked.
“Help! I’m tired, and I need the loo!” Mary replied.
“Oh dear, hang on, I’ll find Mr Wilkins so you can be relieved- ha, relieved, get it?” joked the store assistant trying to make light of the situation.
“Oh, very droll!” Mary laughed, sarcastically.
She was waiting for that much-needed relief when the rude boy she had met earlier had returned to the grotto.
“You again!” she said.
He went to grab another present and headed back for the entrance. Mary gave chase, but just as she tried to reach him, she tripped over a small box and crashed to the floor on her stomach.
“Owwwwwww!” she screamed.
That in turn triggered a massive spasm in her bladder and wee then started to gush into her costume. She grabbed herself again and tried in vain to control her bladder muscles, but eventually gave up and let the long wee soak her trousers and hands. It was bad enough that she had embarrassingly wet herself, but she had found out that she may have hurt her ankle. To make an already bad situation worse, Mr Wilkins had come to the grotto with the store assistant.
“What the- what the hell happened here?” he asked, shocked at looking at Mary in her state.
She tried to tell her what happened. “I can explain, I-”
“You couldn’t even wait to go to the toilet!” he snapped, looking at Mary’s wet trousers. “Well, young lady, it seems that you are not as good as I thought you could be. I’m sorry about this, but I’m going to have to let you go. Goodbye.”
Before Mary tried to explain, Mr Wilkins had already left the grotto. She sat on the floor in her own mess for a few moments, looking dejected.
“Never mind,” said the store assistant sympathetically. She helped Mary up from the floor and ushered her to the staff toilet to cleaned up. There goes Mary’s chance of earning some extra money for Christmas.