Her teacher wasn't doing much better. Exam rules disallowed teachers from bringing in any of their own mobile devices and the school's computer blocked any website that could distract her. Ms. Oliver was forced to sit in limbo. It wasn't silent, there was the ticking of the clock, but it wasn't much noise either. It was just her, the ticking clock, and the annoying sound of Megan's pencil.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Megan bounced her pencil off of the desk. Anything to keep her mind off of her pain. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. She felt hot, sticky, sweaty. The open window did nothing to help. She leaned forward, her white shirt was damp from absorbing her body heat. She adjusted in her chair, moving forward. Balling her hand into a fist and pressing it into her thigh, Megan hoped the new sensation would distract her from the tightness of her full bladder. It did not. She could feel the heat from her genitals as she dug harder into her thigh. She at the clock again. The rhythmic ticking soothing her somewhat.
It wasn't the same for her teacher. Everything agitated her. Ms. Oliver could feel each second tick by, not just with the incessance of the clock, but with the pain of her bladder. She was mad that she had drank that much. She should have known. All of her anger couldn't help her out of this. Elizabeth Oliver was forced to sit and stew in her pain. The heat of the room. The heat of her own body, it was almost unbearable. She could feel the sweat forming on her forehead. Her crotch felt damp. If it was sweat or pee, she couldn't tell the difference. Trying to stay composed, she began to bounce her legs under the table. Maybe it'd distract her. She wiggled, digging her crotch into the corner of her seat. Ms. Oliver hoped the sensation would be enough to ease the building pressure in her abdomen.
Ms. Oliver stood sharply. Stiffly, she preened her outfit. Megan observed as she walked towards the clock, her legs crossing with each slow step. She stood, staring at the clock as it continued to tick. Not realizing that Megan was watching, she dug her hand into her crotch, bunching her black pencil skirt into her crotch and bent forward.
"A-are y...you ok?" Megan asked
"F-f-fine." Ms. Oliver pointed, blushing "Test."
Megan nodded and put her head back down. She still saw Ms. Oliver out of the corner of her eye. Her proctor paced, her heels making a racket as she paced. Megan looked up again, watching as Ms. Oliver grabbed at the hiem of her skirt.
"Stop looking at me." She barked at Megan
Megan smacked her dry lips. The room was hot, she was sweaty and dehydrated. Yet couldn't drink. She was trying to take her test, but for as much as it challenged her mind, her bladder countered in full. Megan was starting to rock back and forth in her chair. Her knee was lifted towards her chest in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. She one hand plastered against her crotch. Megan was starting to mark random answers, math was never her strong suit anyway. Her jaw was locked in an attempt to remain composed, but her labored breathing gave her situation away. She didn't think that she had leaked yet, but her strained muscles were starting to produce a sweat. Megan couldn't tell anymore. All she wanted was to pee. Just not in front of the present company, or with any audience really.
Ms. Oliver was locked in a desperate battle against herself and her overfilled bladder. Every muscle was in full force. Tense. Locked. Active. Unable to remove her hand from her crotch, she was gripping herself as tightly as she could. She felt clammy. Almost sick. Her legs trembled, each muscle moving involuntarily with the strain of holding back her stretched bladder. She hurt. Elizabeth Oliver's teeth were gritted, her lips locked as she tried desperately to keep her pee from bursting out of her.
She nearly considered peeing in the trash can. Ms. Oliver was sure it couldn't handle the water she'd consumed that day, nor her morning coffee but it was better than the alternative. She glanced over towards Megan. The poor girl was red in the face, her breath escaping in quick bursts. Ms. Oliver could see her student's hand gripping her crotch tightly. Her dark jeans creasing from the pressure Megan must have been applying. She hated to admit it, but given the state they were both in, a new sensation overcame her. She bit her lip, a soft moan of excitement escaping her lips. It was mixed with her own desperation, but Megan couldn't hear it over her own.
While answering a question on Macbeth, Megan felt a rush of hot liquid run towards her opening. She clenched, tighter than before. Still dry. Moments later, another wave of desperation came over her, this one stronger than before. She felt a hot, burning sensation as she fought hard to counter the strong urge to pee. She dug her hand in harder, wincing as she put some pressure on her swollen abdomen. Megan looked. Her bladder was protruding from her shirt, her jeans digging in. She rubbed it. Another wave. First a warm sensation that covered her body, then a cool one. Time stood still. She swallowed. Another question.
Having lost track of time, Megan's mind could only concentrate on one thing and that was not releasing her pee. Of all the times she had been desperate in her life, she couldn't think of one that was worse. It hurt. Don't pee. Don't pee. Don't pee. Don't pee. I really have to pee. The same two phrases dominated Megan's mind. She hadn't answered a question in sometime. She just wanted to hold it. Her concentration was broken by a sudden gasp. She looked at Ms. Oliver
Her teacher quickly launched from her desk chair, legs twisted like a vine around each other. Her hands buried deep into her crotch. She shook visibly. She picked up the landline on her desk. Megan heard her whisper
"Please come up here and relieve me..." Ms. Oliver hissed into the receiver
Whatever the response was, she didn't like it. Groaning, Ms. Oliver slammed the phone back down. She shook where she stood. Megan tried again, hoping the obvious predicament they were both in would lead her to relief.
"Ms. Oliver, I really have to go-"
"No!"
"But I did-"
"Finish your test!"
As Ms. Oliver spoke, Megan could see a small streak of discoloration maneuver down one of her legs before she quickly sat back down. What made it worse, was the Megan knew she was next.
Any excitement Ms. Oliver had felt was gone. Dashed by the warm wetness in her panties. There was little left she could do. Like a caged animal, her eyes darted under her thin glasses, looking for some sort of release.
Megan sat on the heel of her sneaker. Temporary relief. She struggled. Megan rocked on her heel, hand pressed firmly into her crotch. Ms. Oliver stood again. Megan watched her teacher pace around the front of the room again. Starting to feel dizzy. Lightheaded. Megan needed support. The desk. She grabbed it with all her might, her knuckles turning white. Her pencil rolled off her desk. She wanted to grab it. But she couldn't move. She made one final plea.
"Ms. Oliver please! I...I really have to..."
Megan stopped her words. Her mind went blank, unable to comprehend what she was feeling. Megan felt a small but growing warmth in her panties. As the sensation continued to spread across her crotch, she felt better. She closed her eyes, and relaxed a little. Maybe she could just let a little out. Another spirt. It was delightful. Some more. And more. Megan looked down as she opened her eyes. The field hockey captain now had a dark patch on her jeans. It would have been obvious that it was pee.
Megan wanted to let it all out. She didn't care anymore. Her emotions took over. Relief, embarrassment, jubilation. It was too much for her young mind. Megan began to sniffle as she cried. As she felt the tickling sensation escape her labia, she stated a fact though muffled tears
"I'm gonna pee my pants..."
Megan shook. At this point, she was more or less forcing herself to pee. It hurt too much to hold it. Any attempt to stop was denied by the sheer jubilation of relief. But rationalizing it didn't help as she watched a yellowish puddle expand from her seated thighs. Her jeans were warm, soaked and darkened at the crotch. Her entire lap was covered in an expanding cloud from the storm she was watching unfurl before her. The puddle expanded, moving slowly as she released, heading for the edge of her chair.
"S-s-stop! You're making me...oh!" Ms. Oliver protested, but it was no use.
A loud splatter erupted from where her teacher was standing. A two-pronged stream shot from under her skirt, loudly starting a puddle. Ms. Oliver grabbed her crotch, piss splattering onto the ground around her hand. Smaller streams and streaks began to splatter and drip from her backside as she bent forward. In shame she covered her face with her both her hands. Turning beet red, the sound of student and teacher's relief was the only audible noise as both had their r pent up pee smacking the floor with a splash. Ms. Oliver's panty-house were ruined as wet streaks had formed down her legs where her pee had started to pool in her heels.
Thinking quickly, and trying to preserve some dignity, Ms. Oliver released her hands from her crotch. They were still soaked in her pee. The warm, clear liquid enraptured her hands as she grabbed her empty thermos from her desk.
Just as unable to stop herself from peeing as her student was, Ms. Oliver was still wetting her panties as she hiked her black pencil skirt up. Her purple panties were now nearly black at the crotch. As piss poured through them, she positioned the open container under herself, catching some stray drips and drops. Out of instinct rather than necessity, she pulled her soaked panties to the side, and began to pee forcefully into her thermos.
Megan was nowhere near done peeing as she felt it expand off of the sides of her chair. With nowhere else to go, it began to drip and splatter onto the calves of her jeans. They darkened somewhat, though inconsistently as a puddle also formed under her chair. Having caught the majority of her forcible pee, the chair began to leak down the front, and her entire seat dripped as Megan emptied her bladder into her pants. The only thing that took her mind off of the reality that she had just peed herself was the scene in front of her.
Her teacher, the strict, mean Ms. Oliver, was pissing into a metal thermos. The sound was nearly drowned out by the splattering coming from Megan's chair, but all Megan could focus on was her teacher. She had never seen a woman who was so put together be reduced to such an act. Her teacher's soft labia dripped with fresh pee as the clear liquid sprayed out of her in a rush. Even as Megan's own stream finally began to subside, her teacher's did not.
Now the dominant sound in the room, Megan could only hear the sound of the hot liquid rising in the metal mug. Ms. Oliver moaned as she finally felt relief. The light hiss from her tight pussy sang in relief. She closed her eyes, enjoyed the feeling of her deflating bladder, not caring that her student was intently watching her moist genitals. Eventually, her stream began to die down, the once roaring piss had become a gentle stream, then a dribble, then it was done.
