1920x1080 HD  The morning started off so innocent. I had on my favorite pair of tight light-blue jeans. My kitty’s litter box was screaming for attention. So there I was, walking out the back patio with the full litter scoop in hand, minding my own business, dumping the nasty clumps into the outdoor trashcan and I accidentally shut the door and didn't realize it was locked. No phone, no backup key outside and worst of all? My bladder was already pulsing with need. First, I tried the sliding door. Pushed. Pulled. Jiggled the latch like my life depended on it. Nothing. Not a crack. Not even a hopeful wiggle. Then I sprinted,  well, waddled to the side window. My thighs clenched with every step. I swear a tiny pfft of liquid betrayed me right then, just a warm whisper against my inner thigh. I gasped and clamped my legs together, doing that desperate side-to-side pee dance.  Legs squeezed. Hands pressing on my lower belly. Rocking on my toes like I’m in some kind of bladder-powered spell. “Open, open, OPEN!” I whispered, tugging at the window frame but nothing. My body took over. A deep, gurgling spasm in my core. My knees buckled slightly, and my hand flew between my legs, as if I could physically block the flood. But it was too late, with a soft, helpless moan, the first hot stream leaked out. It started as a trickle, soaking into the front crotch of my panties, instantly warping into my jeans. The denim clung tighter, pulling as it absorbed, turning that light-blue fabric into a darker, spreading shadow. There was no stopping it, wave after wave of relief mixed with horror as I completely lost control. The golden flood rushed out, roaring through my core, pouring down my thighs, filling the legs of my jeans until they sagged, dripping. The waistband soaked through. The back, too a warm, shameful puddle now running down my ass and inner legs.  And here I was helpless, dripping, and utterly defeated by a litter box run