Wet: A Tale of Desperation

Grace fumbled with her purse, growing visibly more agitated by the moment. Where were those little fuckers? Instantly, a flash image of the keys she so desperately needed came to her - a punch to the gut as she realized: the keys were on the seat of the bus. She'd placed them on the empty seat next to her as she had dug for change for the newspaper machine outside the bus stop.

Shit.

Her bladder throbbed, giving her the reminder she definitely didn't need at that moment that time was of the essence. A sharp, sweet niggle rolled down from her bladder to its exit; an almost painful, pleasurable feeling.

Without wasting another moment, her normally hesitant and polite knock was nowhere to be found as she pounded on the door.

God, I hope he's not getting high. That sounded like a cop knock.

The seconds crept by, seemingly turning to hours as she waited for the door to yield.

"Robert! Let me in! Please!" Her voice cracked. I can't take this anymore!

She almost dropped her purse as the genius smacked her in the face. CALL HIM.

Her heart dropped as she realized this smart phone was as dumb as - and about as good as - a brick. Dead.

Grace whirled around, frantically searching for another way in. Her eyes met with an open window. On the second floor. Her foot found the sill on the first floor window. She reached for the sill directly above her, her fingers scraping the cement ledge a few times before she felt she had a steady hoist.

Grunting, she evenly divided her attention between the strain of pulling herself up and making sure her pelvic muscles were firmly clamped shut. Grace's elbows pistoned as she worked to swing herself up. Swearing profanely, a stabbing, then ripping pain tore through her thigh and she lost her grip.

The three seconds she hung suspended from the nail clawing through her jeans ticked by cruelly, her vision blurring when the ground (now flying dizzyingly above her head) came crashing into her shoulder before slamming into her head.

The sky is falling! She thought in that delirious, hazy moment before passing out.

Grace awoke to a blinding light. Squinting, she struggled to sit up and was met with a stern voice.

"Stay seated ma'am. You fell while breaking into this place. Don't worry, we have the best doctors in the Orange County Jail System." The light dove to the ground, illuminating the automatic lawn sprinkler she'd narrowly missed impaling herself on before he clicked his flashlight off.

She blinked repeatedly, trying to steading her swimming head while clearing the spots from her eyes. Breaking in?

A police officer faded into view. His sneer was not encouraging.

"You're mistaken, officer! I live here. I forgot my keys and -"

"That's enough. I know who lives here, and he lives alone." The officer shook his head, muttering, "Fuckin' stoner."

He hoisted her up by her elbow, wrenching her shoulder in the process. Well, at least now she wasn't thinking about having to -

"Officer, please! Listen to me... I sincerely left my keys on the bus. I tried calling my roommate, but my phone is dead. Please, if you call him, he'll vouch for me. I just -" she blushed, but there was no avoiding the embarrassing truth - "I desperately need to use my restroom!"

"Watch your head. And the seats are hot; July and all - so watch that bare ass."

Grace's mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to understand before the makeshift flag of her pants anchored to the brick wall floating in the breeze clued her in. Her thong offered no protection before the searing heat of the leather upholstery made her yelp in surprise. Before she knew it, the officer was behind the wheel. He started the cruiser, sizing her up before shifting the machine into gear. The car rolled silently into the night.

Grace squirmed, begging the officer - Yates, yes, that was his name - relentlessly. Her pleas were met with his hard stare in the rear view mirror.

Yates turned onto a side street and killed the engine. He turned around in his seat, arm hugging the passenger seat head rest. His eyes glinted, and it was then that Grace knew this man had another plan for her.

"Tell you what, kid. Its been a long night, and that fuckin' paperwork they'll have for me at the precinct for picking you up is a bitch." He popped his door open and did the same for hers. "Come with me."

Grace froze, terrified.

Her feet met the pavement, but Grace steeled herself to the seat, her body rigid. He dangled his cuffs in front of her and the sound they made as they clanked together snapped Grace out of her daze.

"I don't understand. Please, just call my room mate!"

"I don't need to talk to that degenerate. Not like I'd believe him anyway. Shady son of a bitch. Nah, here's what we're gonna do. Your ass is already out, so lets even things up. If I can see those perky tits of yours, I'll call things even."

He wasn't kidding. Grace's head reeled. She weighed the alternatives silently as his gaze grew more impatient. Her hands shook and her fingers fumbled for the top button of her blouse. As her shirt bared more and more of her chest and tummy, she steadied her thoughts and decided that anything was better than pissing herself in public. She didn't need to add insult to injury; going to jail after pissing herself.

Yates grunted his approval as her shirt fell onto the seat behind her. She caught his stare and begged with her eyes, but he wasn't budging. He motioned impatiently and she nodded, tears rimming her eyes as the clasp on her bra gave way. Shame and embarrassment flooded her as she tightened her kegels with superhuman strength.

The need to urinate was consuming her. She imagined herself in her bathroom, her beautiful bathroom, escaping this nightmare. Even the thought of that cold seat was enough to make her shiver with anticipation. The silky fabric of her bra slid down her thigh and landed with a soft puff to the concrete.

Yates mistakenly equated her shudder with the cool air, his eyes locking on to her rock hard nipples. He wet his lips with his tongue, eyes raking over her.

"Yeah, its a bit chilly, huh baby? I've decided those panties need to go." He snapped his fingers at her; the shame and degradation was too much to bear. He was ordering her around and treating her like a subservient animal!

Something inside her snapped, her vision tunneling as she shot to her feet. Yates stumbled back, surprised. The handcuffs clattered to the ground.

"You can't do that!" She bent to pick up her bra. His hand darted out and grasped her wrist firmly.

"I can do whatever I want, sweet cheeks. Now take off those panties or you're going to jail. And I can guarantee you that being nude in public will just add more to your B and E charge." Grace didn't doubt that Yates wasn't above setting her up. The threat was real.

Grace grunted, pulling her wrist free from his grip. The cuffs went skittering across the pavement and under the car with a well-aimed kick. She pushed past Yates, her arms crossed across her bare chest and ran.

Where am I? Grace looked around as she fled and realized she was downtown - just six blocks from home! With the sun completely set now and the moon behind a haze of rain clouds, the darkness swallowed everything. Even the harmless, comforting things she was used to observing from the safety of her bus seat were made to look frightening and ominous.

How had this day turned so bad so fast? Work was great; Grace had always loved her job. and the ride home on the bus was next to empty. She always looked forward to crawling into her own wandering thoughts, lost in the soothing rhythm of the diesel engine's rumble and the air brakes' sigh.

What am I going to do when I do get home? Squeezing her thighs together, it was all she could do not to waddle down Arbor Street. Any attention was unwanted attention now. She willingly acknowledged that she wasn't bad to look at. The shame and mortification came from the unrelenting pressure throbbing slowly to a crescendo of almost orgasmic proportions.

Grace ducked behind a shrub wall as the search light of the dirty cop's cruiser angled her way. The beam washed over where she had been just a second before. The deep sigh of relief that followed caused a wave of almost unbearable pressure and she unconsciously gripped the V between her legs, tugging on the fabric of her panties.

Swaying and panting, Grace's desperate moans evolved into a grunt with each vibration seemingly rattling up her legs. The sensation caused a cry akin to the sound she made when on the edge of climax to burst past her lips. Now with her left hand firmly over her mouth to prevent any more outbursts and her right arm hugging around her chest, her eyes widened as her building rose into view.

Oh, God. I'm going to make it. I can't take this torture anymore! Grace stumbled almost blindly now toward home. Her bladder bounced like a dangerously overfilled water balloon, causing her vision to wax and wane to the beat of her footsteps.

Completely consumed now with the weight of her bladder, she climbed the stairs to the building. Those 8 steps compared to her now as the side of Everest. Every seven inch gain to her door brought the reality she was not ready to accept trying to ram through reality's door.

Robert's car pulled in the drive. Grace shrieked with a mixture of delight, urgency, and pain. Time slowed to an almost dead halt as he trudged up the stairs with his paper bag of munchies. He stopped on the stair before the landing, not noticing Grace's presence, let alone her near-nude, writhing figure. Muttering to himself, he dug first in one pocket, then another before drawing out the key to the front door.

Grace whimpered behind her hand and Robert's red-rimmed eyes fell on her, slowly drinking in the sight. His eyes met hers and at that, Grace's body committed the ultimate betrayal seconded only by death. A mixture of relief and horror instantly seared into her face and her stare dropped to the floor at her feet; the shame was too great to acknowledge his witness right now.

The heat and wetness of her nightmare at first trickled slowly down her clenched thighs after soaking through her thin white thong. Without warning, the flood gates burst and the puddle that grew around her feet washed outward in a pool of amber glass.

Grace moaned in the ecstasy everyone has experienced at least once in their lifetime; the heavenly release of finally making it to that icy porcelain after a long car trip or business meeting.

Her arms gave out, falling to her sides limply. A sob fell wetly from her trembling mouth; she could almost feel it mixing coolly with the hot wading pool on the hard wood landing. Her exposed breasts heaved as she slowly soaked in the impossible reality of what was happening.

Grace stood slumped, defeated, and numb.

With a silence teeming with revulsion, pity, and dumb awe, Robert unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving her standing shamefully on the porch. The door slammed behind him and Grace was alone in the dark. The trail her urine had followed down her legs began cooling rapidly, beading on her smooth skin.

Grace shivered, the scent of urine penetrating every sense. Shuffling to the door, Grace turned the knob.

But it was locked.