Awesome Desp Story I Found

[Magic Kitty]

I hope this is okay, but I don't know where else to put it.
I just wanted to share this story I found. I didn't write it.

When I read it...I was on pins and needles the whole time. One of the best I've read in a long time. This is exactly the kind of thrill I enjoy from desperation. "Oh my gosh, is he going to make it, is he not, holy crap I can feel his pain! Stupid airplanes! AAAHHHHH!" were basically my thoughts.
Yes, it's male desperation, but if you're into that or into self-desp, I'm sure you'll enjoy putting yourself in his shoes 
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Airplane Agony

"Sir, could you please put your seat in the upright position?"



"What? Oh yeah, sorry. I must have fallen asleep," I say and automatically obey the flight attendant by releasing the seat forward. Immediately, my full bladder announces that it must be emptied.



I have been on this six-hour flight and have been assigned to the window seat, which was usually my favourite place to sit. But this time the woman in the isle seat next to me has the longest legs I have ever seen. And no sooner had the flight begun, than she stretched them out in front of her and fell asleep, trapping me for the entire flight. I felt a little claustrophobic and had two beers to help relax. Between the alcohol and the motion of the plane, I soon found myself napping. I woke up once during the flight, needing to go to the bathroom, but my neighbour was still sprawled out, blocking me in. So I ignored it and went back to sleep.



Now, my seatmate is awake, her long legs finally tucked under the seat, and I think I can sneak back and relieve my bladder quickly before we land. Although with the amount of urine that I am holding, I am not sure just how quickly I will be able to empty it. I undo my seatbelt, climb over my neighbour, and take two quick steps to the bathroom when the flight attendant meets up with me.



"I'm sorry, sir, but can you please return to your seat?" she says.



My bladder is pinching and I cross my legs, trying to look casual. "I just have to run to the bathroom real quick."



"The pilot has turned on the seatbelt sign," she says. "We will be landing soon."



"I'll be fast," I tell her.



"Please, sir, we will be landing soon." She gestures politely to my empty seat and I can see the door to the bathroom over her shoulder.



"I'll go right back to my seat as soon as I'm done," I promise her. My bladder is so full it hurts.



"Sir, please sit down." She places her hands on the tops of the seats on either side of the isle. I am not going to get past her to the bathroom, to relief that I need so badly.



I look around self-consciously. I lean slightly towards her. Lowering my voice, I say, "It's kind of urgent. I really have to go." I feel so silly. Here I am a thirty-six year old grown man in perfect health, telling this woman that I need to go "potty" like a school kid.



"You may use the facilities as soon as we land," she answers in a detached, professional voice. "Until then, can you please--?"



The plane suddenly begins to bank left. I cross my legs tighter against themselves; the sudden movement is not what my bladder needs at this point. I feel urine sloshing around, trying to get out.



"But, p-please, Madam," I hear myself begging.



"Sir, do I need to call--?"



I hold up my hands; I am defeated. "No, no," I say. "I'm sorry. I'll sit."



Resigned to hold it until we land, I make a painful climb across my neighbour's legs once again and sit down. I look out the window, trying to ignore my body's desperate need for relief.



"Your seatbelt, sir," I hear the flight attendant say.



Putting a tight seatbelt across my stomach is simply not an option at this point. I nod anyway and latch the belt, hoping she does not notice how loose it is. But the flight attendant has already moved to the next row to wake more passengers and announce our upcoming landing.



Looking out the window, my heart sinks at realizing how far we are from the ground, from landing, from a bathroom, from relief. I can't believe how badly I have to go. I look at my watch. I have been holding this urine for a long time. I didn't go at all during this six-hour flight, and I really can't remember when I went before that. It was at least an hour or two before I boarded. And then I drank those two beers, and not to mention the soda that I had while I waited for my flight. Oh, I have to go so bad. I can't ever remember having to go so badly.



The plane hits a patch of air turbulence, sending us sinking, and then pitching to the left then right. The movement of the plane sends shock waves through my bladder, creating even more pressure. I grit my teeth and tighten my hands into fists so hard that my knuckles are white. My leg and stomach muscles are clenched so tight that I can feel my thighs shaking.



We circle the airport seemingly forever, all the while the need for relief growing more and more intense. The pilot announces over the intercom that we are seventh in line to land. I look behind me, longingly at the bathroom door. But I am helpless to get there- helpless to escape this agony. I am helpless to do anything, except wait and suffer.



I just can't sit still. Every time I stay in one position for more than a few seconds, I can feel the urine pressing itself against my trembling urethra, pushing right out of me. I try to cross my legs, which is very hard in the cramped seat. I fan my legs in and out. I bounce my legs up and down so fast that my ankles are numb. Nothing is helping. I have just got to go pee so bad. I feel like I am about to jump out of my skin. I would do anything to be able to stand up and properly cross my legs, be able to bend forward, do anything to relieve this unbelievable pressure. But, if I could stand up, then I could walk to the bathroom, unzip my pants and finally let go. Finally have relief from having to hold so much- to able to be free of this...



Stop! Thinking about how good it's going to feel when I pee is only making things worse. Although I don't know how things could be any worse at this point. I try to relax and think about something else, but I can't concentrate on anything else. I can't keep a single thought in my head. My need to pee is all consuming. I keep imaging myself standing in the bathroom and taking a deep breath as I finally relax and my urine works its way down and I just go and go and..



No, stop. Just take a few breaths. A little while longer, I tell myself. I can hold on. I feel the landing gear descend and, though the vibration does not help me, I know that relief is getting closer. I have just got to hold on a while longer. A little while longer, then this relentless pressure will be gone. There is a nagging thought in the back of my mind about how I am going to wait while all the passengers get off the plane. I just had to sit in the back, didn't I? And even the thought of getting my bag down from the overhead cabin makes me shudder.



I feel the plane drop again as the pilot is about to touch down. Urine follows the plane's movement, pushing itself even harder in my bladder. Oh, I have go! It hurts so much. I can't stand this anymore. I have never had to go so badly in my life. Then I brace myself; the plane is breaking. As the plane decelerates, there is a feeling of being pulled forward and I push back hard with my arms. I just can't take any more pressure on my bladder. I think I am about to loose it. I squirm and tighten up so hard that my butt is totally off the seat.



A surge of pressure hits me so hard I almost grab myself right here in public. Now I know I am about to loose it. Oh, please, I have to go. My muscles are vibrating with the effort to keep the flood of urine inside me. They are tiring, becoming weak. I can feel it. I need to let them relax just for a minute. Just for a second would feel so wonderful. Oh, please let me relax for just a second. Please, I can't keep fighting like this. No, no, hold on! You can hold on, I tell myself, though my body is telling me the exact opposite. And through a lot of squirming and bouncing, and tightening, I just manage to hold on, just barely.



I just don't know how much longer I can hold it. Before, it was painful, now I feel like I am about to have an accident. I feel like the pee now has a mind of its own and is actively trying to escape the incredible pressure that it is under. Instead of just trying to ignore the pain, it now feels like my bladder is squeezing itself inside of me, pushing the urine out with such force that I don't know how I can keep it in. It is no longer a matter of not wanting to hold it; it is a matter of not being able to hold it. I have never felt this way before. I'm frantic. I need to go right now! Right now!



My urethra and thigh muscles are so tight they are trembling with exhaustion. My whole body is shaking. I lean my head against the cool window. Immediately I sit upright and close my eyes tight. It is raining outside, the water splattering itself against the windowpane. Not what I need right now. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed, but now the only thing I can hear is the sound of water hitting the window. And all I can think about is how it sounds like pee hitting the urinal.



"Oooooohhh..." I involuntarily cry, my face grimacing in pain.



"You alright?" I hear my neighbour ask me.



I nod my head. "Fine, thanks," I say, my voice hoarse.



"You sure?" she asks. "You look a little pale."



"F-f-fine. I'm fine." I can't concentrate enough to talk. I know I'm being rude, but I don't really care.

[Magic Kitty]

[cont]

I am rocking back and forth, my hands pressing my thighs tight together, and my legs are bouncing up and down. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I've got to go. I've got to go. I've got to go. I can't wait. I have to go right now. I have to get off this plane. Oh, I have to find a bathroom. God, I need a bathroom so bad. I am stuck in this seat, in this plane, with no space to move, no place to go, no way to get rid of so much urine. So much urine that I simply cannot hold it any longer- I can't. I've got to go so bad. Aaaaargh!



After what seem like hours, the plane finally breaks to a stop and the seatbelt signs bings off. Just then my bladder feels like it's squeezing again. I tense every muscle that I can as tight as I can. I feel the urine pushing its way down to my penis, which is sticking straight up from my tense muscles. Please, no! No! Hold on- hold on, I keep telling myself. Not much longer. Hold on for just a few more minutes longer. My body does not believe me and I find myself sitting almost sideways in the seat, legs crossed awkwardly, trying anything to keep control. For a few agonizing seconds I can do nothing but rock back and forth in that contorted position and concentrate on holding on.



Finally, the spasm seems to lessen and I unwrap myself from the knot I had tied myself in. I can see the passengers in the front of the plane stand up and gather their bags. My neighbour stands up and gets her bag from under her seat. I stand up slowly, afraid that my muscles will give way with the movement. My legs are crossed so tight against each other, I know that anybody can see my penis sticking out against my pants, but I don't care. I don't care about anything except getting to a bathroom and finally letting go and feeling the relief of so much pressure....



Following my thoughts, my bladder squeezes down, hard. Before I know it, I am kneeling backwards in the seat, my legs tight together, my right hand over my left, pressing my penis tight against my thigh. It's as close as I dare to hold myself. My lower abdomen is distended and hard as a rock. I am going to pee in my pants. I know it. I can't make it. Any second now, urine is going to be flowing all over my pants and this seat. I am pushing with all my might on my trembling penis and I can still feel the urine thrusting its painful way down. Oh God, help me! Please, help me not pee all over myself like a child. Oh, please, please, help me!



Seconds pass and, miraculously, I do not lose it. I take a slow breath. I gain a little control. Though my legs remain crossed so tight, at least I can stand up. Bent over at the waist, I am rocking back and forth, trying to stay in control. My bladder is throbbing and I am still helpless to do anything about it. I have to go SO BAD!



The plane is starting to empty. Although everybody seemed to be moving in slow motion, it is almost my turn to get off. My suitcase, which has my wallet in it, is in the overhead compartment, but I don't care. There is no way I will be able to get it down without losing control. On the other hand, I have an extra pair of pants in there. If I don't make it-which it seems more and more likely-I would be able to change without having to wait for my checked luggage. Then, I could just let a little urine out now before I lose it all. If I got these a little wet it wouldn't matter so much. I would just hide behind my bag. Oh, yes! Why didn't I think of it before? I could get some relief right now. Right now! I could just relax for a second and....



No, wait! I didn't pack them in my carry on; all my pants are in my checked back! But it is too late. Thinking it is going to be getting relief, my bladder squeezes itself again. Oh, God no! Almost doubled over, I practically fall to my knees. I press my hand tight against my thigh, pinching my penis, which is practically numb. Shifting my weight from one foot to another, I perform what kids call the pee-pee dance. I know I look ridiculous-a grown man with his hand held tight in his groin, unable to stand still in the cramped airplane seat because he has to go to the bathroom. I will my body to stop, to gain control. But every time I try to act natural, I can feel pee forcing its way down and my body goes into involuntary contortions again.



This is torture, I think. I want to pee so badly. I just want to let go and end this suffering. This is pure, humiliating, utter torture.



My neighbour is talking to me, although I can barely hear her. "Do you want me to get your bag for you?" she asks.



I look up. "Yes, please!" I whisper, afraid to say anymore.



She places my bag on the seat next to me. I slowly make my way to a stooped-over standing position. Legs crossed tight, I am rocking back and forth, as much as this small space is allowing me. "Thank you," I say more clearly this time.



"Um...need me to carry it?" she asks. I shake my head.



If I could think more clearly, I would think that this woman is wonderful. But I don't care right now. I pick up my bag, which thankfully is light, and follow my new friend into the isle. This aisle allows me a little more room. I can cross my legs better, bend over more. Though it helps the pain, it does not help control. I am gripping my suitcase with both hands so tightly to keep from grabbing myself. Though I am trying so hard not to, my body is contorting itself in ridiculous poses to lessen the pressure. The people in front of us are moving so slowly. What is taking everybody so long? Please hurry up. I am about to pee in my pants if you all don't hurry up- I want to scream. Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry!



Slowly, step by awkward step, I move towards the front of the plane. I can see the door now and the flight attendants who are waving goodbye. In the little space between the plane and the gangway I can see the rain seeping in. I think of how that it looks like pee dripping and my bladder spasms again.



I helplessly groan in agony. I feel more pressure than I ever thought possible. Oh my God! I plunge my hand down into my pocket and desperately grasp my penis. I squeeze so hard, it brings tears to my eyes, but at least it stops me from peeing my pants. I double over in pain. Oh, I can't believe how bad it hurts! My bladder is screaming. My legs are shaking. My eyes are fill with tears. I think I might be sick. I can't move. I know if I move, my poor, tired muscles will finally give up and surges of urine will escape. I am frozen with pain. I make myself take slow breathes. Just a few more minutes, that's all. I tell myself I can do it.



The line has moved ahead without me and I concentrate on making one foot move in front of the other. I hear the flight attendant who did not let me go to the bathroom thank me for flying with her company. She should be thankful I didn't pee all over the seat. Finally I am out of the gangway and find myself in a crowded terminal.



With one hand still in my pocket holding on to my penis for dear life, I begin down the hall. I can't ask anybody where the bathrooms were; I can't stand still that long. I am finding it hard to even walk. Keeping my thighs clenched together, my gait is slow and clumsy. People keep getting in my way, and I have to step around them. The pain is excruciating and the urgency is overwhelming. My brain is demanding that I hurry; my body is demanding relief.



As fast as I dare to move, I keep on the look out, hoping beyond hope for the men's room sign close by. Finally, I spot the bathroom, at the end of the terminal- almost there, almost there. Encouraged, I begin to walk faster, when suddenly a young child steps out in front of me. I have to stop suddenly to avoid tripping over him. The change in pace sends a sick tremor through my bladder.



My bag falls to the ground as I grab myself with both hands. I am completely helpless. My muscles feel like they are on fire from holding unbelievable amounts of pee for hours and hours. I can't let go with either hand to pick up my suitcase with my wallet in it and I can't leave it in the middle of the crowded terminal. Either way, I know I can't make it. I am standing in the middle of a busy airport, holding myself, dancing around like a three year old. I know people are staring, but I don't care. I am about to cry when suddenly I see my bag being picked up. Fine, let someone steal it; I don't care. I see my long-legged friend holding my bag. "Follow me," she says, nodding toward the bathroom.



I can't talk; I just follow her. I can't let go of myself and I can't look at anything but the back of her shoes. I put one foot in front of the other and can't think about anything else. It feels like we had walked miles, when I dare to look up. We are only about ten feet from the door, from sweet relief; so close. Suddenly my bladder squeezes so hard, I find myself on my knees. I can't make it. Ten more feet and I just can't make it. The human body can only hold so much urine for so long and this is it. Too much for too long; I have lost it. Hours of misery and I am going to lose it by ten feet.



"Come on, " I hear her say. "You can do it. You're almost there." And before I can protest, she is lifting me to my feet and walking with me. I feel hot tears in my eyes when I see a line in front of me. There are three men standing between me and the final escape from this torture. No more waiting! No, please, no more waiting. Please, please, no!



"I guess this is probably all my fault," she is saying. "Didn't mean to trap you in your seat like that. Sorry." But I can't hear her. All I can hear is zippers unzipping and pee hissing, and toilets flushing. I can't take it anymore.



She moves towards the private disabled toilet and opens the door for me. Still holding myself like a child, I dash into the private stall. Without bothering to close the door behind me, I open my pants faster than I ever have before. Just the sensation of unzipping my pants is enough to start the inevitable. And though I try so hard to hang one more second longer, I just can't. The floodgates open and urine gushes out of my body stronger than I ever thought possible. I somehow manage pull myself out of my boxers and finally, blessedly am able to relax. I must have urinated for minutes. I feel relief wash over me. Even after I am finished, I am afraid to move, afraid there is more still to come. Finally, when I am done and can regain my composure, I inspect my boxers. They are soaked and a wet patch is visible around the crotch of my trousers, but I don't care any more.



I quickly wash my hands, which are still shaking and turn to see my seatmate holding my bag out towards me.



"I, uh, don't know what to say," I stammer, taking my suitcase. "Thanks just seems like a real understatement."



She shakes her head dismissively. "Don't mention it." </P>

I stand at the sink for a while, too embarrassed and exhausted to move. I splash a little water on my face, thankful for everything to be over. The woman waits for me and in a way I feel comforted that she is with me. I feel as though I might faint from the shock at any moment and my legs are like jelly underneath me. I also don't want to face the people in the terminal that have seen me on my own. Having someone with me gives me a little more courage.


"Where are you headed?" She asks, her expression one of concern. I feel guilty for provoking such a reaction in this stranger after the way I have disgraced myself and now that I have a chance to properly notice her, my humiliation is made all the worse by the fact that she is strikingly beautiful.


"Er... I... I'm s-staying in a hotel." I stammer, ashamed that I cannot string a full sentence together now. I realise how stupid I must sound and stare down at the floor.


"Which one?"


I hadn't actually booked a room yet. I was planning on just phoning the nearest place I could find. I mentioned this to my new acquaintance.


"My place is a ten minute drive from here. You'll never find a room at such short notice in London, especially not at this time of night." She explained, matter-of-factly.


"I-I couldn't...Th-thankyou, but..." Again I cursed my inability to talk coherently.


"Nonsense. You look just about ready to collapse. I couldn't just leave you here in this condition. Besides, this is all partly my fault."


"Really, I..."


"Come on, my driver should be waiting outside. Lean on me if you need to. Oh... and I'm Mia by the way." She smiled at me and took my free arm, leading me out of the cubicle before I had time to worry about everyone seeing me. To my relief, the crowds outside appeared to be more concerned with finding their luggage and each other than staring at the man who had moments ago collapsed to his knees, grabbing at his crotch in desperation. We walked out to the entrance where a large black jaguar was parked in the bay. A greying man in a suit stood holding the door open and Mia directed me into the car before I had a chance to protest. 

source: http://charliesaysuk.deviantart.com/art/Airplane-Agony-158384125