This is the first of the complete archive of Sarah’s Secret Diary. The diary was a true account of an office girl’s fetish for knicker wetting and desperation.
I was in the office, doing my secretary’s job, and sipping my glass of water for my secret exploits to come. My boyfriend John was going away for the weekend, so I can have the house to myself and get into all types of desperate situations!
One of my colleagues, Meg, came down to my desk and asked me if I wanted to go on a girls’ night out. I agreed, and always wanted to go on the nights out sometimes, even if it’s for the purpose of filling my bladder and getting desperate.
As it was Friday afternoon, the traffic is normally terrible when I finished work. I didn’t bother going to the loo as I wanted to find how long I could hold out. I touched my belly softly…it felt full, but it wasn’t aching for relief…yet! I was wearing a light-blue jacket and knee-length skirt with a white blouse.
I got to the Underground station and waited for the train on the platform. Suddenly, there was an announcement:
“We are sorry, there are delays to all trains at the moment. This is due to an earlier signalling problem.”
Most people would be angry about this, but not me, I liked to be delayed so I can get caught short. After about twenty minutes, I realised that I needed to go to the toilet. The train still hadn’t arrived yet and the platform was filling up with fellow passengers wanting to get home.
I was by now getting more desperate by the moment and I couldn’t hold myself in public. I started lifting my legs slightly in turn and then pacing around in that part of the platform… Another thirty minutes had passed with still no sign of a train, there was another announcement:
“We are sorry again, but because of persistent signalling problems, all services are currently suspended. Please make your way out of the station to use alternative routes.”
Oh, no! Here I was, stuck on the train platform with hundreds of other passengers, and needing to go badly. I was at the furthest end, meaning that I had to wait for almost everyone else to go to the exit. The pressure on my bladder was getting worse now, and I felt I was on the verge of wetting myself, but somehow, I managed to hold on.
I knew where the nearest station was, so I had to either catch the bus, or walk there. I decided to go for the bus. Suddenly, and without warning, a small part of pee flowed into my knickers. I got frantic, and immediately grabbed my crotch through my skirt, then shutting my legs tightly in a bid to halt the little stream (Somehow, I didn’t notice that there some public toilets nearby).
The bus had arrived at the stop where I was standing, and I saw that it was full of other passengers, but I wanted to get home, so I pushed through the other people to get on the bus. It was satnding room only, and I was needing all my strength to stop myself from wetting. I was jigging about, dancing on the spot, and openly holding myself. Some other passengers were looking at me in disapproval, but I didn’t care because I was feeling extremely desperate.
Then, another spurt of pee flowed out, and I got even more frantic. I squeezed my legs tighter and tried my hardest to hold it, but, alas, to no avail. The pee started to seep through my skirt and trickle down my legs. My face began to blush with embarrassment as I gave the other passengers on the bus a full wetting. Some of them moved away from me to avoid getting their feet wet. The original journey normally took five minutes, but I failed to hold out that long.
I eventually got off the bus outside the next station and looked down my skirt to survey the damage. It was soaked, particularly where I had been holding myself. It was lucky that John had gone for the weekend, or he would have seen me in this state.