Desperate Measures

Stephanie Winters crossed her legs and smoothed down the skirt of her red suit. Her greatest desire at that moment was not to smooth it down, however, but to pull it up and tear down her panties. Stephanie was bursting to pee.
She was prevented her from satisfying the urge to relieve herself by her responsibility to her company. As deputy CEO of Wiseman Electronics, it was incumbent upon her to show leadership and always appear in control of the situation. Having called the members of the Board together that afternoon to discuss the plans for a merger with Steinberg Chips and Circuits, or SCC, one of the fastest growing concerns on the east coast, she did not feel that she could leave the room and allow the meeting to run itself, not even for a few minutes.
The problem was that the Board had not been able to reach a consensus regarding the way forward. The majority were either in favor or ambivalent, but there were two strong opponents, Victor Mays and Laura Pierce, who would take advantage of the situation to sway the weaker minded members if she, Stephanie, was not there to act as mediator. Victor Mays in particular was a charismatic speaker, and he might easily undermine hours of constructive debate in just the few minutes she would need to be out of the room. She dared not risk it.
The pair seemed determined to thwart the merger, even though the indications were that Wiseman Electronics could be bankrupted by the end of the year and they owned company shares themselves. It didn’t make any sense, and Stephanie wondered precisely what was going on. Something was most certainly wrong, but so far she had been unable to discover what it was.
By five thirty, Stephanie was growing tired of listening to Mays present the same argument over and over again in different guises. She was also tired of putting up with a full and aching bladder. She made the decision to bring to proceedings to a conclusion, and mustering her most authoritative voice, she said firmly, “Thank you Victor. I think you’ve made your point most eloquently. I move that we now put the matter to the vote. We all have homes to go to, after all.” A small ripple of laughter travelled around the room. “All those in favor of the merger?” she asked, and counted the show of hands. The decision was carried by nine–to–three. Pierce and Mays had lost. “Good. We’ll start ironing out the details on Monday morning. In the meantime, have a nice weekend.”
Everyone filed out except for Pierce and Mays– surprise, surprise. Stephanie sighed inwards and re–crossed her legs, aware that the relief she so badly craved was going to be delayed a little longer. Her abdomen felt bloated and extremely uncomfortable, and it was all she could do not to sit there wiggling her legs. Never show weakness, she reminded herself as she met Victor May’s resentful stare. “Yes, Victor,” she said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice, and not quite succeeding.
“Stephanie,” Victor Mays said, “can we have a word?”
“It’s late,” Stephanie countered. “Can’t this wait until Monday?”
“I’m afraid not,” Mays informed her grimly, at the same time flicking a glance across at Laura. Stephanie followed his gaze and was startled to find that Laura Pierce was holding a small pistol in her right hand. “What we need you to do, Stephanie,” Mays continued, “is to just sit there and look as if we’re still discussing business, until the others have all gone.”
Stephanie stared wide–eyed at the muzzle of the gun, terrified of being shot, and yet still concerned about losing control of her bladder. Wetting herself should have been the least of her worries at the moment, and yet she could not allow herself to display weakness, especially not in front of these two. She sensed that she needed to operate from a position of confidence if she was going to talk her way out of this, and confidence tends to be in short supply when one pees in one’s clothes.
Doing her best to combine truculence and condescension, Stephanie asked, “What on earth are you doing?” Her attempt at bravado did not quite come off, however; her voice had cracked on the last syllable, and Laura Pierce sensed fear.
“What’s the matter, Stephanie?” she taunted, twitching the gun to reinforce her position of power.
“Is our control freak finally worried about something other than what she wants?”
Sidestepping the issue, Stephanie resorted to the direct approach. “What do you want?”
It was Mays who answered. “I’m afraid your insistence on merging the company with SCC is proving a source of embarrassment to us.”
“Embarrassment?” Stephanie frowned. “How?”
“Oh, shall we just say that Laura and I have been engaged in some creative financing over the past six months, preparing a little nest–egg for an early retirement. Now you’ve gone and spoiled all that.”
“You’ve been embezzling company funds?” Stephanie asked incredulously, aware that the situation was graver than she had judged. If these two were facing long jail sentences for theft, they had a lot to lose, and that made them dangerous.
“Right on the mark, as always Stephanie,” Laura confirmed. “Have you any idea how annoying that gift of yours is?”
“Very,” Mays chimed in. “And now you’re about to take a course of action that will expose our little––or not so little––secret. I’m afraid you’ve left us with no choice.”
“What do you mean?” Stephanie asked with rising anxiety, the muscles in her abdomen giving a sharp spasm that made her clench her thighs to avoid peeing her panties.
“We need a distraction,” Mays continued, “and what better way to take everyone’s mind off the proposed merger than a devastating explosion in the offices of Wiseman Electronics…in which the company’s financial records are destroyed, and the deputy CEO, last to leave the office as always, is tragically killed.”
Stephanie caught her breath as panic seized her. Urine squirted into her underwear and she was forced to abandon her attempt at nonchalance in order to stem the flow. She bent forward in her seat and pressed down on her lap with both hands.
Laura smiled coldly. “Well, well. It looks as if the iron lady needs to take a leak,” she observed.
“Really?” Mays asked, regarding Stephanie as she straightened her body. He flicked a glance down at her tightly crossed legs, then shrugged. “Good. I was hoping that might happen.”
Laura regarded her colleague with a weary expression. “Oh, Victor, you’re not still planning to make her set the device off, are you?”
“Oh yes,” Victor answered, smiling at Stephanie’s obvious bewilderment. “It’s poetic justice.”
“I think you’re just perverted,” Laura snapped, unable to conceal her mounting irritation.
Stay here and tie her up while I make sure everyone’s gone, and get the device.”
“All right,” Laura agreed, “but don’t take too long. I need to piss too. That bloody meeting went on nearly all bloody afternoon.”
“Whose fault is that?” Stephanie said, as Mays left the room, at the same time wondering if the device to which they had referred was a bomb. What else could it be?
“Don’t smart–mouth me,” Laura said as she moved behind Stephanie and held the muzzle of the gun against the back of her head. “Now, put your arms behind the chair back, and shut up.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Stephanie said, ignoring the woman’s instruction. Before she could say anything more, Laura struck her a vicious blow with the butt of the pistol. Stephanie yelped and instinctively drew her hands round in front of her to protect her head from further harm.
“I said, put your arms behind the chair and shut up!” Laura shouted. “Got that?”
Stephanie complied, and sat waiting as Laura retrieved her briefcase from beneath the conference table. She opened the catches and opened the lid. Inside were several coils of rope and a strip of black cloth, which might have been a tie. Laura moved out of Stephanie’s sight, and a few moments later, Stephanie felt a rope being coiled about her wrists, lashing them together.
Laura proceeded to wind rope around Stephanie’s body and laced it through the slats in the chair back. Then she knelt down and, for reasons known only to herself, took off Stephanie’s shoes and dropped them into the briefcase. She then bound her boss’s ankles together, and finally took up the strip of black cloth and used it as a gag, forcing the material between Stephanie’s teeth as she pulled it tight and secured it at the back of her neck.
Her task accomplished, Laura began pacing up and down the room waiting for her co–conspirator to return. Stephanie watched her, realizing that Laura was probably as desperate to pee, as she was herself. The difference was that Laura could still walk and cross her legs, whereas she, Stephanie, no longer had those options.
Then, Mays re–entered the room carrying a box about the size of a @@, smiling. “The place is empty, apart from that fat idiot of a security guard sitting downstairs stuffing his face with Twinkies. He won’t be coming up here for a while, which gives us plenty of time.”
“Let’s just get on with it,” Laura said impatiently. “I’m getting really desperate to piss.”
“Okay, okay. This will only take a minute.”
Leaning against the edge of the conference table and fidgeting her legs, Laura watched as Mays withdrew the bomb from its box and started uncoiling two long, insulated wires that emerged from one end of the device. He knelt down and, with a penknife, began peeling back a inch of insulation from the end of one of the wires. Laura sighed. “Why bother with all this elaborate shit?” she demanded. “Why not just set the timer so that we can get out of here?”
“But that wouldn’t be at all poetic,” Mays answered, now peeling an inch of the insulation from the end of the second wire. Laura made a tutting sound to convey her impatience, crossing her legs as Mays continued to take his time. When the wire ends were both exposed, Mays reached back into the box from which he had produced the device and pulled out a roll of duct tape. Then he walked on his knees until he had positioned himself directly in front of Stephanie, laid both hands on her knees, and then slowly slid his fingers beneath the hem of her skirt. Stephanie watched as he lifted his thumbs to drag the hem farther and farther up her thighs until he finally reached the tops of her stockings.
Laura moved in closer and eyed the stocking tops and suspenders with contempt. “How quaint,” she sneered. “Does wearing stockings and a garter belt help you to feel more feminine as you screw with peoples’ lives?”
Mays pushed up the hem of Stephanie’s skirt as far as it would go, revealing her matching red panties. He then picked up one of the wires and ran it up between Stephanie’s thighs and, peeling of a two–inch–long strip of duct–tape, secured the wire to her left inner thigh, careful not to cover the exposed end. He did the same with the other wire, securing this one to her right inner thigh so that the exposed ends were no more than half an inch apart.
“Now, let me explain how things are for you, Stephanie dear,” he said in a soft, indulgent voice as if he were addressing a child. “When I switch on the bomb, nothing will happen unless these two exposed wires meet. If they do, then…well, I’m sure you can imagine what will happen. So, it will obviously be a good thing if you sit completely still, especially since––” here he paused as he tugged the hem of Stephanie’s skirt back into black, concealing the wires from view––“you won’t be able to see how close together the wires get if you move around.”
Mays stood up then and retrieved the last piece of rope from Laura’s briefcase. “Now, since I know you’re sitting there with a rather full bladder, and you’re going to be so tempted to move your legs around, I thought I would help you to hold still by tying your thighs to the chair seat. Kind of me, don’t you think?”
Stephanie answered through her gag, the words muffled by still intelligible. Mays grinned. “What was that?” he said with a trouble frown, feigning hardship in understanding what she had said. “You won’t press charges if we let you go? Oh dear, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that,” he continued as he knelt again and secured the last piece of rope around the midpoint of Stephanie’s thighs.
His task completed, he rose once more, went over to the bomb positioned some five feet in front of Stephanie and well beyond her reach, should she attempt to use her feet to tamper with it. He reached down and flipped a switch, then returned to Stephanie’s side, leaning his face close to hers. “It’s active now, so be sure to keep completely still.”
He started to straighten up, then stopped and leaned in close again. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention one important detail. Even if the wires don’t make contact, if some conductive medium––such as, shall we say, urine––should be present, the current will flow between the terminals… boom! So, you’ll only stay alive for as long as you don’t piss yourself.” He paused and grinned sardonically before adding, “Since you’re not able to move, I hope you have nice strong muscles down here.” He laid the palm of one hand on Stephanie’s swollen abdomen and gave it a little squeeze with his fingers. Stephanie jerked in her seat, a frightened gasp forcing its way past her gag.
Stephanie watched with wide, terrified eyes as Mays and Laura headed for the door, Laura taking tiny steps, her legs stiff. “I have to use the bathroom before we leave,” she said in a low voice.
“I wouldn’t,” Mays suggested. “She could set that thing off at any moment.”
“You idiot,” Laura said angrily. “If you’d just set it on a timer, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
The conference room door closed behind them and Stephanie heard no more of their conversation. Not that she had been paying them much heed anyway; her thoughts were entirely focused on controlling her nearly bursting bladder without the aid of her hands, or being able to cross her legs.
Her abdomen throbbed as if someone were pounding it like a drum. The pressure between her hips was tremendous, and as hard as she tried, she could not stop her thigh muscles from trembling as she fought the urgent desire to release her pee. She looked down at her lap, trying to judge how far apart the wires were beneath her skirt. If she squeezed her legs together any tighter, would the wires make contact? Oh, she so badly needed that extra squeeze to help her wait a bit longer, but she dare not compress her legs any more.
Where was everyone? Victor Mays must have been mistaken; surely somebody was working late. Careful not to move the chair, Stephanie craned round to look over her shoulder, her eyes frantically scanning the offices visible from the conference room. No lights were on.
Oh God! What am I going to do?
The muscles lining the walls of her bladder contracted involuntarily, her body’s way of forcing her to release her urine before she did herself harm.
Stephanie strained to stop the surge, but some pee made it past the outer sphincter muscles and she felt it jet into her already–damp panties.
An instant later, a second, more powerful squirt followed, and this time she felt pee on her naked skin. She drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, certain that she was about to die. But nothing happened. Miraculously, the electrical circuit had not closed. She still had a chance of survival.
It was a very slim chance, however, because now that she had started to wet herself, it was incredibly difficult to stop it happening again. The desire to release was intense, virtually overwhelming, and she could do nothing to challenge it save tightening her weary muscles once more. At best, she might buy herself another few minutes, but no longer than that. How could she wait any longer? Her bladder was close to bursting!
Tears filled Stephanie’s eyes, fuelled by fear and frustration. How could she let something like a desire to pee kill her? Surely there had to be a way to maintain control? She was a grown woman, and she’d had to wait on many occasions where it was inconvenient, or inappropriate, to run to the bathroom. Surely she couldn’t let such a simple thing defeat her? The problem was that she had already been suppressing the urge to go for several hours, allowing her bladder to fill to the point where she had little flexibility left.
Whimpering through her gag as fresh tears came, Stephanie groped for any way she might be able to stave off the inevitable for a little longer. She could think of nothing, and her bladder was set to explode. It was hopeless. She was going to die, all for want of a little more control.
A noise from the corridor outside made her catch her breath. She listened hard, straining to hear the slightest sound. She turned her head again and saw, to her utter amazement, the overweight security guard from the front lobby, firearm drawn, and walking a few paces behind Laura Pierce. Laura had her hands behind her, and only when the security guard walked past her to open the door the conference room, did Stephanie appreciate that the other woman had been handcuffed.
“Ms. Winters,” the guard addressed Stephanie. “Are you all right, ma’am?” Stephanie made a muffled sound through her gag, trying to tell the man not to ask such stupid questions. As if realizing his error, he turned back to face Laura and said sharply, “Okay, you, get in here and show me this bomb your partner was talkin’ about.”
“It’s over there,” Laura said, inclining her head in Stephanie’s direction. Stephanie noticed that the woman’s voice sounded tense, and that she was not standing still but hopping around as if she were standing barefoot on a hot plate. Clearly, she still needed to pee too.
“Show me,” the guard said, motioning her forward with his firearm.
Laura walked around the boardroom table, her expression pained. As she approached, Stephanie noticed a small wet patch on the front panel of the woman’s gray skirt. Stephanie hoped the woman wouldn’t start to wet herself before the bomb was switched off, or she herself might lose control as well.
Laura stopped walking a few steps short of the bomb and stood hopping from foot the foot, bending a little at the waist. She tried to reach round with her hands, and Stephanie saw the bracelets locked around her wrists. “For God’s sake, hurry it up!” Laura snapped as the guard advanced cautiously on the bomb. “I need to go to the bathroom so bad.”
“How do I turn this thing off?” the security guard wanted to know and he dropped to one knee before the device.
“You can’t,” Laura informed him. “Victor made it that way so that there would be no backing out.”
“You what?” the guard stared back and up at Laura, incredulity on his face. “Then how do I get her out of here?” he asked, indicating Stephanie. “You’ll have to remove the wires from her legs, and for fuck’s sake, make sure the ends don’t touch.”
“What do you mean?” the guard asked, looking at the point where the insulated wires leading from the bomb to Stephanie disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt.
“Do I have to spell it out for you, ass hole,” Laura yelled, frantically dancing around as she struggled to hold back an afternoon’s accumulation of pee. “You have to pull her skirt up and remove the fucking wires. Now get a fucking move on, before she pisses herself and blows us all to hell.”
The guard nervously holstered his firearm and moved over to kneel down in front of Stephanie. He looked up at her face, covered in perspiration, and understood that the poor woman was about to explode. “I’m sorry about this, ma’am,” he said, still feeling compelled to observe the social niceties. “You understand that I don’t have any choice?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Laura screamed. “Just get on with it, you stupid prick! She’s even more desperate to piss than I am!”
Starting to sweat himself now, the guard took hold of the hem of Stephanie’s skirt between thumb and forefinger, and lifted the material carefully away from her thighs. “If it helps any,” he whispered, talking to Stephanie. “I got the other son–of–a–bitch. He’s down in the lobby with a bullet in his ass.” He spared a moment to glance up at Stephanie’s strained features, and saw her nod once in appreciation of the news. It was clear, even to the guard, that she could not break her concentration for more than a moment.
Realizing how dire the woman’s predicament really was, he looked back down at the woman’s legs. When he had raised her skirt, he could now see the path followed by the wires. Slowly, he slid her skirt higher and higher until, like Mays before him, he had exposed the tops of her stockings.
The guard’s eyes widened as he saw that Stephanie’s red panties were soaked. He also noticed the streaks of pee on her bare skin above the stocking tops, and realized that it stopped less than an inch short of the exposed wire ends. “Damn,” he muttered, and wiping his brow with his sleeve, he stretched out trembling fingers to peel away the tape holding the wire against the skin of her right thigh.
Laura sucked in air between clenched teeth. “Be careful!” she warned, releasing the breath in a sharp gasp.
Got it,” the guard said, and swallowing hard, he gripped one corner of the tape between his thumb and forefinger.
Stephanie, her legs trembling like aspen leaves, snorted through her nose as she tried to maintain control of her bladder for just a few more seconds. It was so painfully tight that she really couldn’t hold still, and began rocking, tugging against the ropes pinning her body to the back of the chair. Another jet of pee was about to escape from her, and this time she didn’t think she would be able to stem the flow. Just moments remained, and this stupid man was taking such a long time to do anything!
She whimpered as she watched the guard peel back the tape with agonizing slowness, until at last the wire it had been holding against her skin began to turn over, narrowly missing its partner still firmly secured to her left thigh.
The gap widened: one inch, two. Without warning, pee erupted through Stephanie’s panties and raced down her legs, spreading rapidly through her stockings and streaming over the remaining exposed wire. Stephanie braced herself for the consequences, but nothing happened. The guard had separated the wires just in time.
Stephanie continued to pee forcefully, her muscles completely collapsed now. The pee streamed over the guard’s other hand, which he had resting just above her left knee, but he didn’t seem to notice. His attention was entirely focused on the wire and tape he held in his right hand. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it, and just knelt there looking at it as Stephanie continued to soak herself with her gushing pee.
“Oh no, no!” Laura squealed, crossing her legs and simultaneously bending her knees as she felt her resolve weaken and her own pee began streaming down her legs. Moisture spread rapidly across the front of her skirt, and after a few more seconds of futile resistance, she uncrossed her legs and straightened up, surrendering to the relief as the pressure on her tortured bladder began to ease. “Ohhh,” she moaned, her shoulders relaxing as the flow between her legs continued.
After perhaps a minute, Stephanie stopped peeing, and sat slumped in her chair, letting the ropes support her. It had all happened at once: the threat of losing her life was removed, and almost immediately afterwards, she had been able to let the contents of her overfilled bladder go. She’d never felt so relaxed in her entire life.
Finally making up his mind to tape the wire he had removed from Stephanie’s thigh to the carpet, the security guard set about releasing her from her bonds, then helped her to stand on her still–trembling legs. “Are you all right, ma’am?” the man asked, seeing the sweat still beaded on her brow.
“Thanks to you, yes,” Stephanie replied. Then, casting a glance at Laura and noting her wet skirt and pantyhose, she smiled. “Let’s get her downstairs with her boyfriend, and let the bomb squad deal with the situation up here.”
Dozens of camera flashes erupted in the lobby as the two women in wet business suits descended the stairs, one of them handcuffed and being steered by the overweight security guard. The pictures were all over the newspapers the following day, providing an added bonus for female desperation fanciers everywhere. In the days that followed, some of them even resolved to forge careers in the corporate world; clearly, the potential benefits were not to be sniffed at!
By: David North David’s Website: Bound Girls Bursting to Pee