God Bless the Pipe Organ

How did I get myself into this situation?

Graham the organist squirmed in discomfort, as the vicar's long sermon continued to drag. It would be ages before the service finished. Reverend Bradley had a tendency to drone on...

He was desperate to piss and wasn't sure he could hold on much longer.

Worse, this church had no toilets. The nearest ones were in the church hall, a good five minute walk away. He didn't have time to hurry there, relieve himself and get back before he'd be required to start playing the next hymn. Besides, there was no way to discreetly slip out of the church - he'd have to race down the main aisle, observed by the entire congregation - as happened to poor Jeff Brindle a few weeks ago.

Graham crossed his legs and shifted painfully on the hard organ stool. His bladder continued to threaten him.

Damn. Shouldn't have drunk two black coffees this morning!

The organist prided himself on always having been able to last until the end of the service before needing to head to the gents. It was only an hour and a half long and he wasn't an elderly man. Unlike Jeff.

He peered over the top of the organ and noticed the eighty-something man sat near the back of the church with his wife Marjorie, whom was far more able-bodied than he was.

Ever since his unfortunate accident during the second Sunday of Lent service, Jeff had chosen to sit at the back, no doubt so he could slip out to the toilets without everyone noticing. Graham suspected Jeff was incontinent - the faint odour of stale piss always surrounded him. Evidently he hadn't been wearing Tena Men or similar adult diapers when the accident happened, for right during the middle of the sermon, he'd stood up, somewhat agitated. Graham had felt so sorry for the old guy. He must've been mortified. A rapidly-spreading dark patch on the front of his pale blue trousers appeared as he pissed himself. Ever the stoic, Marjorie had taken hold of his arm and helped him out of the pew, whilst a few members of the congregation pretended they'd not seen anything. Jeff had left a trail of piss in the aisle.

"Thank God that's not me," Graham had said to himself at the time. "I'd hate to be old and frail like that and embarrass myself in public, unable to hold my pee."

Now here he was, absolutely bursting to go. He fidgeted and grabbed his crotch, feeling a few drops of urine leak out and wet the front of his underpants. The floodgates were perilously close to breaking open.

Graham had ditched the traditional church surplice and had started wearing a short sleeve, open front black robe for playing the organ. It afforded him more freedom of movement, and in this desperate situation, would allow him to easily unzip his trousers.

He checked his watch, sensing the long sermon was finally drawing to a close. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to relieve himself right here, whilst playing the organ. The mighty instrument would be his saviour; its full and radiant sound would mask the heaviest of streams - even onto a hard stone floor. He was lucky in that the organ was situated in the corner, partially obscured by the pulpit and a pillar. Nobody sat in the pews could see anything except the top of the organist's head.

He unzipped his flies, fumbled with his underpants and pulled out his cock. He'd have to piss hands-free, and hoped he could keep his aim as straight as possible.

"Please stand for our hymn, Ride On, Ride On in Majesty." The vicar announced.

Graham's fingers worked their magic on the manuals as he played the hymn's short introduction, then the first verse began.

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

Hark! All the tribes hosanna cry.

O Saviour meek, pursue your road,

with palms and scattered garments strowed.

"Please, just let me go," Graham muttered, finding that he was unable to pee at first. He tried to relax, whilst at the same time concentrating on playing the hymn.

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die.

O Christ, your triumphs now begin

o'er captive death and conquered sin.

At the start of the second verse, salvation at last. Initially, a faint dribble, but then a powerful stream as he began to pee desperately. His golden release splashed the sides of his trousers and soaked the organ's pedalboard. The loud hissing was masked by the music, and he'd never been more grateful to hear it.

"Heaven." The organist sighed contentedly, enjoying his relief.

Eventually, by the start of the fifth verse, his flow dwindled and came to an end, with a few last drops. Relief. Sheer blessed relief! He must've pissed a pint, and by God it felt good to be rid of it.

The hymn over, and his bladder finally empty, Graham tucked his cock back inside his trousers and zipped up.

He didn't care that he'd soaked the sides of his trousers. They were black, and nobody would notice. Besides, he could always pull his robe closer round him. His underpants were also damp, but thankfully, nobody would know. He didn't usually bother with tea or coffee in the church hall, and could go straight home after the service, have a shower and change his clothes.

There was of course, the large, steaming puddle beneath his feet. He glanced down and noticed it seeping out from under the organ's pedalboard and stool.

Shit. I'll have to think up a convenient lie if anyone notices that before I can mop it up. I could say I dropped my water bottle and it spilled.

He relaxed and was able to enjoy the rest of the Palm Sunday service in comfort, albeit a little wet.

"God bless the pipe organ," he smiled.