Holly Goes Shopping - Part 1

Holly strolled through the city shops without a care in the world. She was browsing for some new sports clothes, window–shopping mainly, and her only purchase so far had been a large coke from McDonalds. Holly was an outgoing girl, and was enjoying being 18 and home from college for the summer. She was wearing an old pair of ripped jeans that she had cut off into shorts, and a red vest with “Party Girl” emblazoned across her firm round breasts. The vest was tight and short, showing her nipples since she wasn’t wearing a bra, while leaving her tummy bare and exposed. She felt the cool air over her bare skin as the afternoon cooled gradually. She took slow, rolling strides from her hips as she walked, and smiled whenever she caught a passing guy stealing a glance at her sensual figure.
Holly stopped in front of a window and planted her feet apart as she leaned forwards to look at some body jewelry, considering whether to buy something to decorate her tummy button. She was fully aware that this position showed off her tight buttocks; the jeans had been her favorite since they fit like a second skin and went right up between her cheeks. Sure enough, when she’d finished looking she straightened and glanced around and there were three boys, about her age, watching her intently. Two of them looked away when she made eye contact, but the third one just stared back and grinned. Holly wasn’t in the mood for flirting, so she turned away and walked into the first large store she came to, which turned out to be a large sports clothes store, which suited her just fine.
Inside, she found the cycle shorts section and crouched down to find her size. Suddenly she realized what had been in the back of her mind for a while; her bladder, compressed in the tight unforgiving denim shorts, was filling from the coke and she wanted to pee. Holly was a young, fit girl though, and she knew her priorities; shopping came first. The store would have a loo, but she could try these on first. She picked out a pair one size smaller than she was and went to try them on.
There was nobody around the changing rooms, so she just picked an empty curtained booth, and propped her small shoulder bag on the seat. There was a full–length mirror there and she grinned at herself, she looked fantastic and she knew it, her tanned contoured tummy was a delight to see, and she knew how it drove the boys crazy.
Unzipping the tight shorts, she immediately felt better, and, stepping out of them she forgot about wanting to pee. She stood in front of the mirror in her yellow bikini panties and held the cycle shorts in front of her, imagining how she would look in them. Pretty good, she decided, bending to pull them on. If anything they looked too small, but they stretched and soon they were fitting her like a second skin. She turned around and admired herself over her shoulder as she flexed her buttocks. Yes, these would be great for the field at college!
Suddenly she bent a little and grabbed her crotch with one hand. She really did need to pee now, especially in these tight shorts. Sometimes she enjoyed ‘holding it’ when she wanted to go but didn’t really need to. “I mean,” she said to herself, “It’s not as if I’m going to pee myself, is it?” She clenched her bladder muscles and felt the urge recede. “Just so long as I’m aware that I need to keep it in tight, I could hold it for ages.” She pulled the shorts a little higher and widened her legs, admiring how the material showed a nice camel toe effect. The feeling of wanting to pee started to return, and she imagined she could see a slight bulge in her lower tummy from her bladder, though of course she couldn’t. “Well, so long as nobody tickled me…” she mused, remembering a fantasy she’d had about a guy at a party she’d been to at college. Her fingers strayed down to her pubic mound, and slipped down between the slight ridges in the material caused by her pussy lips straining against the fabric. She liked the tingling feeling she got there. She closed her eyes and continued to stroke herself. It felt great and was turning her on. Wearing these, she could rule the world– or at least the guys at the sports center.
Just as she was feeling the tingle grow, the urge to pee returned and broke into her reverie. Holly opened her eyes and stared at the mirror in mild irritation. “If I was only at home, I’d keep going and try to bring myself off, but I guess I can’t risk making these shorts damp, or having a spurt of pee in them. Damn they’re tight. I’d better find the loo before I buy them.” She slipped the shorts off, and her yellow bikini panties slipped off with them, so she had to unravel them and pull the panties back on. She grabbed her crotch again and squeezed her urethra shut, pressing her legs together for a moment to push back the tide again.
Grabbing her shorts, she pulled them on, and cursed as the worn material tore in her hands, right down the zip line. There was no real way to fasten them now. She’d worn them for too long after they’d become too small, swam in them, sunbathed in them, and even slept in them at parties. It had all weakened the seam and the stitches had given all at once. “Damn!” she cursed quietly, then pressed her knees together as another urge to pee made itself known. She had a real problem here!
Holly quickly slid them off once more, and put the cycle shorts back on. There was a dull ache where the tight waistband pressed right over her bladder, so she pulled hard on it to bring it right up to her navel where the elastic wasn’t over her bladder. In fact the tight shiny black material pulled up so snugly into her feminine cleft now that it kept her urethra safely pressed shut without her needing to strain anymore. She stepped out past the curtain. There was still nobody to ask, but she could see a sign that said “Customer Toilets” and an arrow leading up a moving escalator, so she made her way over and went up.
Finally the little girl sign on the door was in sight at the end of a short corridor in the corner of the huge open floor. She made her way to it, looking forward to relieving the pressure, which was now really only a dull contained ache, and getting back to her shopping. Just as she touched the door, however, a powerful arm blocked her way and she looked in confusion at a huge man in a black suit that was standing in an open doorway to the side. Behind him she could see banks of TV monitors. Evidently the security room was on the same short corridor.
“What do we think we’re doing, young lady?” said the man in a menacing voice, not moving his arm an inch. Holly was shocked, and always respectful of authority, but still set on her mission.
“Hang on, I just need to… I’ll just be a minute,” she said, ducking under his arm and pushing the door open.
Suddenly, Holly felt both her wrists grabbed at the elbows by big hands, and she was pulled backwards into him as he pulled her wrists back behind her back.
“Don’t try to run away, now, I’ve caught you red–handed,” he warned.
“HEY!” yelled Holly. “I didn’t do anything, I just need to use the toilets,” she protested. He ignored her and instead steered her through the open door into the security office, where another large man was sat watching the screens. One of the monitors was on freeze frame, and showed her picking up the cycle shorts from the rack earlier. Holly stared in shock at another monitor, which showed her, in freeze frame, touching herself in the changing room.
“I didn’t see her cut any tag off, so it should still be there,” said the second man, standing up and facing them. Holly struggled a bit but the huge man behind her held her still. She was frightened now and all her muscles were tense. She didn’t even feel she needed to pee right at this moment, but the adrenaline pumping through her was making her more aware that she was still quite turned on. It didn’t help that she was effectively unable to move, and as she twisted in his grasp, she felt her bottom brush against his crotch. Had she felt a bulge there as her cheeks brushed against him? No, it must have been her imagination, and she wasn’t about to do it again deliberately to check. In fact to avoid contact with him, she pushed her hips forward a little, and moved her feet farther apart for better balance. Holly considered screaming for help, but that seemed absurd; these were security guards and therefore in charge and to be obeyed, even though they somehow seemed to think she had done something wrong. She took a deep breath and waited.
The second man stood in front of Holly. “I’ll just check for it,” he said, leaning forward. Holly opened her mouth to say something, and then gasped in surprise as she felt his hand, running slowly up her ass, she could clearly feel his fingertips trace the contours of her firm round ass cheeks, which were straining through the stretched Lycra. Her mouth now wide open, she stared right into his eyes as his other hand moved up the front of her shorts, his index finger stroking right up between her pussy lips, finally stopping at the tag which stuck out at the top. She squirmed against the tight hold she was in, and felt a slight dampness between her legs. “Damn!” she thought, and clenched her bladder again, not sure if she had just leaked a drop or if it was the excitement making her start to get damp.
With a sudden jerk, he ripped the tag off and made a show of examining it. “Yep, these shorts haven’t been paid for. You’re guilty of stealing, young lady,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“No!” exclaimed Holly. “I was trying to explain, I was just trying them on and I…” the man behind her interrupted.
“Save it, miss. We’ve heard it all before. We get girls coming in all the time, wearing old clothes, changing into new ones in the ladies’, and then doing a runner. The manager had three girls prosecuted by the Police just last week.”
“This isn’t right!” said Holly. “I want to buy these! I was just trying them on!” She struggled some more.
“You’ll have to see the manager. It’s not up to us,” said the guard behind her, shifting the hold he had on her wrists. She heard a clicking sound and felt something cold on her wrists. He stepped away. She suddenly realized she was handcuffed!!
“You… you can’t…” she started, “I need to use the bathroom! Just let me…”
He interrupted her. “Heard that one, too. This is just to stop you running away whilst we go see the manager. Now follow me and we’ll get this done with as little bother as possible, ok?” He took her arm and led her back out of the room.
The guard led Holly to a back stairwell and up three flights of stairs. She took each step carefully, not wanting to fall with her hands cuffed behind her back. The urge to pee was back and she was holding her lower tummy in to keep it under control, and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her exposed back and navel, and in the crack of her ass. She only hoped it wasn’t darkening the back of her cycle shorts and exposing her bodily functions to the now obviously lecherous guard who was following her very closely up the stairs. He guided her through a doorway and down a corridor, where he stopped her in the middle of a reception area whilst he called the manager out.
“We caught her on camera taking these cycle shorts out of the changing room and trying to go into the toilets to remove the tag,” explained the guard. “Here’s the tag.”
The manager studied the tag, and then looked closely at Holly. She squirmed uncomfortably and looked back at him.
“It’s not like that,” she said. “I was trying them on, and I needed to pee so I just nipped to the ladies’. He just grabbed me before I could explain.” The manager considered her for a moment, and then walked round her slowly, staring at her tummy and hips. He stopped behind her and she stared at the wall and stifled a sob as she felt his eyes boring into her ass. Then she felt pee trying to make its way down her urethra again and pressed her knees together, bending just a little to hold it in.
“I need to pee URGENTLY!” she pleaded. “Just let me go to the toilet and we can talk about this.” The manager ignored her and she felt his fingers explore the clenched globes of her ass cheeks. He stepped back in front of her, his face visibly flushed. She could see a bulge in the front of his pants.
“How do I know you’re not lying to try to get out of it?” he said finally. “If we let you go to the toilets, you could take these off and flush them and then we’ve got no proof.” Holly just stared at him.
“I’ll need to take photos first, in case this ever goes to court. Stay there,” he went to his office and came back with an expensive looking digital camera. Holly gaped at him and began to hop from one foot to the other as she struggled to hold back her pee. The coke she drank earlier had by now found its way to her full bladder. She burst into tears as he carefully took flash photos of her, several times from the front and then the back, as she did her pee–pee dance and tried to staunch her tears. Finally he walked round her a couple of times whilst the camera shone a constant red light at her. She suspected it was making a video. She hung her head in shame and sniffed loudly.
Finally he stopped and looked at her sympathetically. The manager was, of course, like many men when given the chance, a toilet sadist. He was enjoying her situation, and his erection was causing him some pain by now. He wondered how far he could push this, but she seemed to be getting distressed and he did in fact feel some sympathy for her. True, he wished he could give her a bare bottom spanking, or make her stand in the corner until she did in fact pee herself. But as it was, handcuffed and standing still, she wasn’t likely to last all that long, and the Police would probably arrest him if he called them, due to his treatment of her. And she might tell them about the photos. No, best finish this now and get her safely out of his store.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take you back to the changing rooms, you give me the cycle shorts back, and then you leave. I think you’ll have learned your lesson.” He waited for her reply.
“Ok, whatever, just take these handcuffs off and let me go pee! I’m desperate!” she cried.
“No, I take them off when I have the cycle shorts back. You can go pee in someone else’s store.” he replied evenly. “Or, we can call the Police. But they sometimes take an hour to arrive and– well, it looks like you can’t wait that long, doesn’t it?” He smiled at her as she paced from one foot to the other.
Holly considered. She really had to pee! It kept threatening to leak and she was having trouble holding it back, it was a constant battle and was making it hard for her to think. The tight cycle shorts were making it much worse, her bladder was throbbing and starting to hurt, and those handcuffs stopped her holding herself! She stopped her little pee–pee dance and crouched slightly, holding her legs together tightly, overlapping them at the knees. She couldn’t hold it like this for five more minutes, let alone an hour! And she couldn’t – mustn’t! – Pee her pants in public. Heck, it was only, what, an hour since she drank the coke, and a little over half an hour since she first wanted to pee seriously. She could hold it if only she was free of the cuffs and the tight cycle shorts, though her ripped jean shorts would be almost as tight, at least she could undo the top button.
Obviously this lecherous manager wanted to watch her change and see her panties. Maybe he thought she was wearing a thong. As she thought it over, she had to clench her whole tummy as tight as she could, but the bottled up pee was pushing constantly, unable to expand against the tight waistband. She glanced down as she doubled up a little with the strain, and saw just how much the shorts exaggerated her camel toe effect, because of how high she had pulled them up before. And, whilst she was proud of her taut tummy muscles, they were obviously straining and making her a display. Above, her firm round breasts were pushing as always against her tight red crop top, but in her excited and tense state, her nipples were poking out really obviously, and she could see beads of sweat rolling down her V–neck. It was already darkening her top. She saw a flash and realized the manager was taking more photos. She couldn’t keep this up for an hour. She had to agree and get it over with. She straightened and indicated her acceptance.
He guided her back down the stairs and to the changing rooms. It was easier to stop herself from peeing as she was walking, but the ache from her bladder was only getting worse. She could feel the shape of her bladder as it protested with every movement she made, but at least she was moving. At the changing room she stopped in front of her curtain and turned to him, hoping he would undo the handcuffs, but instead he held the curtain open and ushered her inside.
Then she got a surprise– and a shock. Firstly, she could see in the mirror that he was following her inside. She would have to change in front of him. Then came the shock. Her ripped jean shorts, her shoulder bag… even her trainers. They were all gone. The changing room was empty. She stared in shock, then babbled an explanation to the manager and tried to push her head outside the curtain in the hope that they were somehow outside.
“That’s a real shame,” said the manager, somewhat surprised himself. “But we do have a sign saying not to leave anything unattended. I’m sorry in any case, but it can’t be helped.”
“But it had my purse, my phone, makeup, everything in!” she whimpered. “And without my jean shorts I have nothing to change into!” She stared him defiantly in the eyes, trying to mount a battle of wills, or at least win some concession. However, the manager was just now realizing that this would fuel his fantasies for years to come, and stared back at her, memorizing her hurt, pleading look. Of course, he’d copy the tapes from the changing room cameras too.
“Well, you can report the theft to the Police when they – eventually – arrive, if you like. Or you can give me back my cycle shorts. Of course, with no purse you can’t buy them now.” He continued to stare, and then shifted his gaze down her glistening cleavage. Her top was now showing sweat patches, and her nipples looked exquisite through the thin red fabric. Shame she didn’t try a top on too, he thought.
Holly’s bladder spasmed again and she leaned forward into him, panting with exertion as she stemmed the flow. She thought that a drop might have escaped this time, but in any case her panties felt distinctly damp now from sweat and her own vaginal secretions. Strange as it seemed to her, she felt just as turned on now as when she’d been touching herself before in this very changing room. She realized time was very much against her in this negotiation, and wanted an end to it.
“Ok!” she said forcefully, and started wiggling as she tried to pull the cycle shorts down at the back. The tight elastic defeated her, though, and they sprang back.
“Here, let me help,” grinned the manager, very obviously enjoying himself now. He knelt in front of her and smoothly pulled the cycle shorts down to her knees. Her yellow bikini panties went with them, of course, and Holly gasped and her cheeks flushed violently as she realized. “Oops!” he said, and separated her panties out from the cycle shorts, with no sense of urgency. His eyes were fixed on her now–exposed crotch, her pussy displayed fully between her slightly parted legs. She had a little tuft of dark brown hair – trimmed – and her pussy lips were generous and puffed out a little with her state of arousal. He lifted the panties back into place, somehow aware of her staring down at him in horror. Just before her secret place was hidden from view, he saw her muscles tighten, and two clear droplets fell onto the waiting panties. He pulled them up around her waist, taking in her musky smell, and gave them an extra tug up, enjoying the camel toe effect he made.
“Turn around, and I’ll remove the cuffs,” he ordered, before she could decide whether to yell at him or not. She turned, and he was rewarded with a complete view of her ass cheeks, just as he’d hoped when he pulled the bikini panties up too far. He quickly undid the handcuffs and stood up.
“Count yourself lucky I didn’t call the Police,” he said. “Now straight out of the store. Come in here again and I’ll have my guards put the cuffs back on until the Police come.” She glared at him and, somewhat sheepishly, walked to the exit, readjusting her bikini bottom as she went.
Holly stood outside, feeling lost and exposed. The afternoon was waning and the air was cooling noticeably. People on the street were looking her way as they passed, in her tight red top that suddenly seemed to barely cover her breasts, and her yellow panties. Suddenly she had to lean against the wall and grab her crotch as her bladder tried again to empty itself. It was easier to hold back without the cycle shorts on, and one long squeeze from her hand got it back under control. She kept her tummy tight and kept clenching her urethra to make sure it stayed that way. As she straightened, she saw two of the boys who had been watching her before. One of them looked away and pretended to drink from his soda. The other, probably the leader of the trio she had seen, winked at her. She turned away in disgust and walked back to the McDonalds, keeping her head held high in defiance of how exposed she felt. Anyway, she dressed in less than this at the beach, so why let this bother her? She was an attractive college girl and once she only could get to a damned toilet she’d have as much self–confidence as anyone, no matter what she was wearing.
Her haughty poise and practiced walk faltered a little as she passed the next two big stores. They were closed. It must have turned 5pm, and she couldn’t check on her phone. She walked on towards the McDonalds. They were always open late. She glanced back once. The two youths were strolling along after her, probably watching her ass since the yellow fabric was tending to cling to it and ride up her ass crack, and she couldn’t adjust it whilst someone was watching. She kept walking, and just once discreetly gave her crotch a quick squeeze to ease the pressure for a second.
As she stepped up to the door at McDonald’s, the security guard at the door held his hand up to stop her. “You can’t come in dressed like that; this is a family restaurant” he announced. Holly was really not happy to hear this.
“I just need to use the toilets! I need to pee really badly!” she cried tearfully, before doubling up and holding her crotch again until she regained her composure in more ways than one.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but those are the rules. Move along now!” he stated, then went back to scanning the approaching people for signs of trouble. Holly staggered away and sat on a bench, holding her pussy lips together. She was about to head for the bus stop, until she realized she didn’t have bus fare either. She would have to walk home. Two miles. If she didn’t stop, she could do that in 45 minutes, which of course was much too long. But she didn’t have much choice, so she got her bladder fully under control and set off.
After half a mile she was coming out of the city and was starting to lose the battle with her urgent need to pee herself. She had leaked a few times, just a few drops each time, and had to grab her pussy tightly each time to stop the flow. Her bikini panties were now quite damp and stuck unerringly to her skin, revealing the shape of her bottom exactly. Worse, the two boys were still following her. She wasn’t scared; there were people around after all, but it made it especially embarrassing when she had to hold herself, and she couldn’t draw attention to her ass by pulling the material out all the time, knowing they were watching.
Another half a mile and she got to a long road, which led most of the way to her house. It was mostly industrial, one straight road that went for about a mile. Once she was down it she would be almost home and dry. Well, not dry, but… well. She sat on a low wall for a minute to hold her bladder with both hands and relax her tired urethra and aching tummy muscles, and became aware that there were less people around here now. She remembered the boys following her and looked back – there was only one now, the apparent leader, and he was just tying his shoelace further down the wall. He wasn’t really any bigger than she was, she wasn’t afraid of him, only the embarrassment if he saw her pee her pants in public.
By: Gabe