A Policewoman's Lot - Part 1

W. P. C. Allison Parker began pacing for the dozenth time, her shoes clicking against the concrete as she walked a few yards, turned and walked back. P.C. John Gallagher gave her a reproving glance as she rejoined him. “Keep under cover before somebody sees you,” he warned in a harsh whisper.
“I can’t help it,” Allison snapped. “I’m dying for the loo.”
“Look,” Gallagher said, “If someone looks out of the back windows of that warehouse and sees you strutting up and down out here, the whole operation will be blown.”
“Alright, alright,” Allison conceded. “I just hope something happens soon, because I can’t wait much longer.”
“You should have thought of that when you were in the canteen swigging back tea like it was going out of fashion.”
“Oh, thanks for the sympathy.”
“Well what do you expect me to do about it?”
Before Allison could respond again, her radio crackled and the voice of Chief Superintendent Maddox said, “Team three. Anything going on?”
“Oh yes sir,” Allison said before pressing the transmit button, “I’m breaking my neck for a piss and P.C. Gallagher is about as helpful as a chocolate truncheon.” Pressing the button, she announced in as calm a voice as she could muster, “Negative. All quiet.”
“Understood,” Maddox replied promptly. “Hold your position.”
“Yes sir,” Allison acknowledged, then after releasing the transmit button again, added, “and by the way, I’m holding a lot more than my position.”
“Will you give it a rest,” Gallagher complained.
“It’s alright for you,” Allison said, her tone sharp as she fought a sharp muscular spasm inside her abdomen. “Any time you want to piss, you can just stick your cock through a hole in the wall and let go. It’s bloody awkward for a woman.”
“Then blame God, or evolution, whatever you believe in. It’s not my fault.”
On the verge of throwing more verbal vitriol and her companion, Allison paused, and then vented a sharp sigh of frustration. A gasp escaped her and she quickly bent her right knee, turning her leg inward so that her thighs were pressed together.
When she had regained a little more control, she said in a quiet yet tight voice, “I’m sorry, Tom. It’s just so…frustrating to not be able to let it go.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gallagher replied, offering her a pacifying smile. “Sorry for being so unsympathetic. Women do have a raw deal.”
“Damn right,” Allison said as she began hopping from foot to foot.
“Oohhh. We’ve been here for hours. Nothing’s going to happen. Why doesn’t Maddox just call the operation off?”
“You know what he’s like. Stubborn to the bone.”
“And sitting in a nice comfy van where it’s warm, drinking coffee.”
Gallagher grinned, glancing down at Allison’s wiggling legs. “So, let me get this straight. Are you saying you want to join him for coffee?”
“Shut up. I don’t want to think about drinking anything.”
They fell silent, and after a minute Allison began surveying the street again, looking to see if there was anything she had missed. All she needed was some discreet spot to conceal herself so that she could lift her skirt and relieve her aching bladder.
The houses fronting the opposite side of the street offered no gardens with shrubs or trees, or any kind of cover, while the high wall running the entire length of the road on this side, encompassing the city hospital, precluded the possibility of going over here. There weren’t even any parked cars nearby. In short, there was absolutely nowhere she could pee.
The only possibility lay on the other side of the chain–link fence demarcating the edge of the industrial estate, and in particular the warehouse they had under surveillance. The problem was, the fence was ten feet high, and if she climbed over it and anyone glancing out of any of the rear windows of the warehouse saw her, the operation would be blown. Moreover, if Maddox caught her off station, her career would be over. This was not the first time she had been caught out with a full bladder during an operation.
The last time, she had been assigned to keep watch inside a pub where drugs were being sold. She and her colleague, Samantha Jones, consumed several drinks during the evening to maintain their cover. Inevitably, they both reached the point where they were dying for a visit to the loo, but only Allison succumbed to nature’s imperative call. Of course, the moment she left the bar, the drug deal had to go down and Samantha had been forced to handle the situation on her own. Maddox had been furious, and only Allison’s solemn promise that it would never happen again had kept her from being suspended.
And now, here she was again, in the middle of an operation and bursting for a piss. But she dare not succumb to temptation this time, or it would surely spell the end of her career on the police force. She had to wait.
“Did you see that?” Gallagher enquired in a loud whisper.
“See what?” Allison asked. Her attention had not been on the warehouse, but rather on forcing her hands not to keep tugging at her skirt and raising the hem a few inches. She longed more than anything to lift it right up and tear down her tights and knickers and just squat on the pavement, anything to end the agony of holding on to a nearly bursting bladder, but she couldn’t; not in the middle of a pavement overlooked by houses, and certainly not in front of Gallagher.
“Something moved in there,” her colleague was explaining, and she forced herself to concentrate on his words. “I think someone’s coming out.”
“Oh great,” Allison said sardonically.
“You were complaining because nothing was happening a few minutes ago. Make up your mind, will you?”
“I know, but I’m so desperate to piss.”
“Well, you’ll definitely have to hold it in now,” Gallagher informed her with she was sure, just a hint of relish.
Gallagher pressed the transmit button on his radio. “Team Three. We have movement back here.”
Yes, Allison thought. My legs shaking as I try not to have a slash in my skirt.
“Same here,” Maddox responded. “Move in. I repeat, move in.”
“Acknowledged,” Gallagher said as he started forward towards the gates leading into the compound. He glanced back to see Allison hobbling after him, and urged, “Come on. If they get to that van before we do, they’ll get away.”
“Alright. I’m coming,” she answered, at the same time thinking: And I’m about to go in my knickers. What a time to be bloody dying for a piss! Allison started to run after her colleague, her full bladder bouncing inside her abdomen like an overfilled balloon, threatening to give way if she didn’t stop. But she couldn’t stop; Gallagher was already pulling away from her. She raced after him, entering the compound just as the two men who had emerged from the back door of the warehouse saw them coming. Realizing that they would not make it to the van in time, they split up and ran in opposite directions. “You take that one,” Gallagher pointed to the man heading away to their right, “I’ll get the other.”
“Okay,” she yelled back and veered right in an effort to intercept her fleeing target.
Allison chased the man along the side of the warehouse and saw him duck into an alleyway formed by two rows of crates stacked three deep. She followed, plunging into shadow as the crates cut off the security lights in the compound. That was why she did not see at first that the alleyway came to a dead end.
She was only a few yards away from the fence when Allison pulled up sharply, suddenly conscious of the motionless silhouette of her quarry who had turned to wait for her. “Okay, you’re nabbed. Don’t give me any trouble,” Allison said in an official voice, trying to keep the desperation out of it as she resisted the urge to dance on the spot. By way of a reply, she heard the click of a gun being cocked. She froze, terrified, a short burst of pee escaping into her knickers.
“If you want to live, shut up,” the gravelly voice told her.
Allison raised her hands instinctively, squeezing her thighs together in an effort not to wet herself. “Look, don’t make things worse for yourself,” she tried to reason with him. “There’s no way out of––?”
“I told you to shut up,” he interrupted, menacing her with the gun.
“Okay, okay,” she agreed, and fell silent, waiting to see what he would do next and praying that Gallagher would come looking for her.
“Get your handcuffs out,” the silhouette instructed her.
Allison winced, realizing what he was about to make her do, but she didn’t dare argue with him again. She produced her handcuffs from her utility belt and waited.
“Put one of the bracelets around your wrist,” the voice resumed. Allison complied. “Now come over here and slide the other one around the fence post.”
Taking small, mincing steps, Allison approached the fence– saw that there was a gap between the post and the chain–link fence wide enough to accommodate the empty bracelet, and passed it behind the post as instructed. “Right,” he resumed, “put the bracelet round your other wrist and close it. Tight.”
“Please. I––?”
“Do it!” the man barked out impatiently, raising the gun so that the muzzle was level with Allison’s face.
“Alright,” she complied quickly, anxious not to antagonise the man further. She snapped the second bracelet shut on her own wrist and waited.
The man approached, closing the ratchet on each bracelet several more notches so that they fitted Allison’s wrists snugly. He then put his gun away and, standing just a foot away from her, asked, “Where’s the key?”
“The key?” Allison echoed, alarmed at the prospect of being stuck in her own handcuffs when her bladder was so close to exploding. “It’s not necessary to take the key,” she pleaded. “I can’t reach it.”
“I asked you where it was,” the man snapped, gripping her cheeks between thumb and fingers, pinching them with brutal force. “If you try stalling again, I’ll put a hole in your pretty head.”
“Okay,” Allison supplied readily. “It’s on the belt, in the pocket next to the one where I had the handcuffs.”
He flipped open the flap on the pouch in question, dipped several fingers inside and retrieved the key, slipping it into his jacket pocket. He then proceeded to scale the fence, deftly swinging himself over the top and landing gracefully on the other side. He paused just look enough to look at Allison through the fence and say, “Have a great evening, darlin’,” he taunted. Then he was gone.
As soon as he was out of sight, Allison began dancing frantically, hopping from foot to foot and tapping her boot heels on the concrete. God, she absolutely dying for the loo, and now she couldn’t even reach down to lift up her skirt, still less pull down her underwear.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she chanted over and over as she struggled to delay the inevitable. Voices shouted in the distance, none of them close enough for her to summon help. With a bit of a stretch, she found she could reach her radio. She was about to press the transmit button when she stopped, wondering what she was going to say. Officer needs assistance. Come and get me out of my own handcuffs because I’m about to piss my pants? Even the thought of it made her blush. No, she simply couldn’t call for help. She would just have to wait and hope that Gallagher came looking for her. It would be embarrassing enough dealing with him, but at least he did already know that she was dying for a piss.
Allison tried sliding the chain of the handcuffs down the post, but it caught on a bracket anchoring it to the chain–link fence, with the result that she could not lower her hands below waist level. There was no way she could do anything about her clothes. If Gallagher didn’t come looking for her soon, she would be forced to wet herself, and if anyone else found her first, she would never live it down.
After several minutes of dancing and waiting to be rescued, Allison began tugging at the handcuffs, desperately trying to slip the bracelets over her wrist bones. They were too tightly closed; she didn’t have a hope in hell of getting out of this situation on her own.
Allison vented a long sigh of frustration. Her knickers were already wet where she had lost control for a moment, and the expelled urine had gradually seeped through to the crotch of her tights. Aware that she couldn’t hope to cork up her pee much longer, Allison started to bend her knees alternately, raising them to the level of her waist. It seemed to help her in her struggle to resist the almost overwhelming urge to release. Letting out a long, agonised moan, she wondered where the hell Gallagher had gotten? If he didn’t show up in the next few minutes…?
Then, suddenly, he was there. “Allison?” he queried as he approached her position at a trot. “I’ve been wondering where you were. What are you doing down here?”
“The bastard had a gun,” she said between strained gasps. “He made me handcuff myself to the fence.”
“Oh shit. Where’s the key?”
“He took it.”
“What?”
“Try yours.”
“It won’t work. They’re all different.”
Allison sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, crossing her legs and doubling over so far that her cuffed hands were above the level of her head. “Just try it,” she pleaded, aware that her voice was starting to tremble.
Gallagher produced his key and tried to insert it into one of the locks on Allison’s bracelets. “No good,” he announced after a few seconds.
“Oh God, John,” she whined, her voice taut, “I’m really frantic for the loo. I can’t wait any longer. You’ve got to help me.”
“How can I? They key doesn’t fit.”
“No, I mean help me,” Allison gasped. “Pull my skirt up and take my tights and knickers down.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m bloody serious. It’s either that or stand here and piss myself, then half the bloody constabulary will know about it by tomorrow.”
“Look, I wouldn’t tell––?”
“Just get on with it! I’m about to burst a blood vessel!”
“Okay, okay,” Gallagher said, then stepped close to her, bent his knees and seized the hem of her skirt. He hesitated for a second, and Allison began scissoring her knees.
“Hurry up!” she yelped, sounding on the point of tears.
Gallagher lifted her skirt until the hem was level with her hips, and was just inserting his fingers inside the tops of her tights and knickers when the beam of a torch probed the alley from the far end. Both he and Allison looked towards the light, Gallagher simultaneously letting go of her skirt so that the hem dropped back to her knees.
“Who’s down there?” a voice demanded. It was Maddox.
“Oh shit!” Allison swore savagely. “You’ve got to intercept him. I don’t want him to find me like this.”
“I’ll try,” Gallagher agreed, “but you know what he’s like.”
Gallagher set off along the alley to meet the approaching chief Superintendent. Allison closed her eyes, praying that Maddox would just go away, and groaned inwardly when she heard him ask, “Who’s that with you?”
The beam of the torch played over her as Maddox continued to advance.
“I’ve been trying to rescue W.P.C. Parker,” Gallagher was trying to explain.
“Rescue her?” Maddox said, his tone caustic. “What the devil are you talking about, man?”
As he closed in on Allison’s position, he framed her squarely in the torch beam. He stopped a few yards short of where she stood trying not to let her desperation to pee make her squirm. She was screaming inside: I’m on the verge of wetting myself, and the stupid old bastard wants to play twenty questions.
“Oh, I might have known,” Maddox remarked. “Care to explain this, Parker?”
“I was pursuing one of the suspects when he pulled a gun on me, sir,” Allison explained, unable to keep still any longer. She began tapping her heels, beating out a rapid tattoo that made it sound as if she were running.
“He made me handcuff myself to the fence.”
“What are you gyrating about for, woman?” he demanded, training the beam on her fidgeting legs.
“I need to go to the loo, sir,” Allison explained.
“Oh, it could only happen to you,” he said with a drawn out sign, then turned to Gallagher. “Well, what are you waiting for? Unlock her handcuffs before she disgraces herself, and the uniform she’s wearing. The last thing I want is for the press to photograph a policewoman who has just peed herself.” Maddox said to Gallagher.
“I can’t, sir. The suspect took her key.”
“Marvellous,’ Maddox said, his tone now weary and resigned. “Alright, I’ll get one of our locksmiths down here to get you out.”
“I can’t wait that long, sir,” Allison said, doing her best not to sound as frantic as she felt. Her bladder was contracting violently now, and it was all she could do to keep her outer sphincter closed.
“Marvellous,” Maddox repeated, then added scornfully, “W.P.C. Parker gets caught short on the job again. How do you do it?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Allison whimpered, going out of her mind with the strain of holding back the flood.
“Sorry isn’t good enough, Parker. It’s about time you learned to control your bodily functions, at least while you’re on duty and representing my police force.”
“I can’t help it, sir,” Allison objected, anxious to defend herself.
“Exactly my point.”
Unsure how to respond to this charge, Allison turned all her attention to fighting her traitorous bladder which now threatened imminent release.
Maddox turned to Gallagher again. “Go and see if you can find some bolt cutters inside that warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Gallagher nodded, and then started ambling back down the alleyway.
“Please hurry,” Allison called after him, and heard his steps accelerate to a run.
To her consternation, Maddox stayed, talking into his radio and directing the final stages of the round up. After he had finished, he turned back to Allison and said, “All in all, a successful operation. No thanks to you, Parker.”
“I’m sorry,” Allison whimpered, vigorously rubbing her thighs together as if she were trying to set her tights on fire.
“I think you need a lesson in how to handle yourself in situations like this,” Maddox droned on as Allison continued gyrating and wishing he would go away.
“Sir?” she queried, her voice breaking on the single syllable.
“Come to my office tomorrow afternoon at five,” Maddox instructed.
“We’ll have a few hours before your shift starts, and we’ll see if we can’t get you up to par with your bladder control.”
“I don’t understand,” Allison squeaked, her face pinched with strain.
“We’ll discuss the details tomorrow,” Maddox said evasively.
“But what––?”
“Tomorrow,” Maddox repeated.
What was the old bastard planning? It sounded dangerously like sexual harassment to her. If it were, she would report him; she had put up with enough of his attitude.
To her mounting consternation, Maddox did not leave. She wanted to scream at him to bugger off so that she could wet herself in private, but didn’t dare articulate these sentiments. She did her best to look as if she was in control of herself, but when another spurt of pee escaped into her knickers, she couldn’t suppress a gasp, which drew Maddox’s attention. “What is it?” he demanded with all the sensitivity of a Nazi inquisitor.
“Nothing,’ Allison retorted, not caring that she sounded annoyed. She was absolutely breaking her neck for a piss and this old fart was loitering around. Was he waiting for her to lose control?
To her utter mortification, Maddox directed his torch on her writhing legs. Finally snapping under the appalling strain, Allison snapped, “Turn that off!”
“I beg your pardon, constable,” Maddox responded coldly.
“Please, sir,” she begged. “I…I’m wetting myself, and I don’t want you to see.”
Even while she was speaking, another, more protracted spurt escaped her urethra, and this time she felt warm pee streaming down her legs. She rubbed her thighs together but there was no halting its progress this time. It reached the top of her boots and spilled over them, running down the leather and dripping onto the concrete. Maddox was watching this, the light directed on her area around her feet. “Sir, please,” Allison pleaded, but the old man seemed not to have heard. She was about to plead with him again when she felt another jet of pee burst out and soak her knickers. It raced down her legs like a river, this time working its way inside the tops of her boots and wriggling down to her stockinged feet.
Forced to accept defeat, Allison closed her eyes and let it go, groaning in relief as the tightness around her abdominal regions began to ease. She hoped the heavy–duty cotton of her police–issue skirt might muffle the sound of her wetting herself a little, but it seemed incredibly loud to her ears. She stood there listening to the sound for perhaps half a minute before the force finally began to subside.
Throughout her entire accident, Maddox had kept the light trained on her legs and the front of her skirt, now displaying a huge wet patch. He only directed the beam away when he heard Gallagher returning. “I found some,” Gallagher announced, brandishing the bold–cutters as he reached them. Allison heard him sniff the air. “Oh,” he said, “Looks like I’m too late.”
“I’m afraid so, constable,’ Maddox agreed, then to Allison the chief superintendent added, “Don’t forget, Parker. My office, five p.m. tomorrow.”
“Yes sir,” Allison replied, muttering obscenities under her breath as her boss walked away with an unmistakable bounce in his step.
“What’s going on?” Gallagher asked as he applied to bolt–cutters to the chain securing Allison to the fence.
“That old pervert watched me piss myself,” she explained, the words forced out between clenched teeth.
“Yeah? Jesus. You going to report him?”
“Who to? Would anyone take my word over his?”
Gallagher considered this for a moment. “Maybe not,” he concurred.
“So what’s he want with you tomorrow? Some kind of reprimand for this?”
The chain snapped and Allison gratefully lowered her hands, one going straight to her abdomen to massage her still–aching muscles. “I’m not sure,” she said at length, wondering just what Maddox did want with her.
“Well, whatever you decide to do, I’ll back you up,’ Gallagher said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks John. I appreciate that.” Allison paused to watch the torchlight marking the Chief Superintendent’s progress, adding when he had finally passed from view, “I need to get home and shower, and change into some dry clothes.”
“Your shift doesn’t end for another two hours,” Gallagher pointed out.
“Get the car and bring it here,” Allison insisted. “I’m not walking the streets like this. And hurry up; my legs are getting cold standing around out here.”
“If you want me to warm them up for you…” Gallagher began playfully.
“Go,” Allison instructed, pointing at the way out.
“Ten minutes ago, you were asking me to pull your skirt up,” Gallagher persisted with the banter. “Now all I get is go?”
“Go,” Allison repeated firmly, but she couldn’t suppress a smile as Gallagher led the way back down the alley.
By: David North David’s Website: Bound Girls Bursting to Pee