The Girly-Gang Gets Kidnapped

This story contains Female Desperation, Accidental Wetting, Fear Wetting and Humiliation.
Emily bounced down the college steps and out towards the car park. It had been a typically boring Friday and she was eager forget all about her Business Studies course and concentrate on the evening ahead. She was a little bit late out of school because she had changed out of her Sixth Form uniform in the Ladies’ toilets. Now she was wearing a light pink sleeveless tee shirt, tight black stretch–cotton skirt and strappy platforms. She’d put on a little glitter spray too because they were going into town.
“Emmy, there you are, girl!!”
It was her best friend, Hayley. She’d had a free period before school finished and was already waiting by Emily’s new Honda.
“What kept you?” she shouted from across the car park, exaggerating a pout and putting her hands on her hips comically, “I’ve been standing here like ten minutes! I need alcohol, hunny!”
“Calm down you nutty drunk,” said Emily, de–activating the central locking with a key–chain shot from the hip, “get in, there’s a bottle of Smirnoff in the glove compartment.”
By the time Emily had scooted the little Honda out of the school grounds and pulled onto the main road Hayley was well into the hip–flask sized bottle. She leaned over, grinning stupidly.
“This is gonna be a good night, I can feel it.”
Emily grinned back. She was probably right. It was their little ritual. Every Friday night without fail they’d head into the city center, get plastered, dance, and maybe check out the local lads…
All they needed now was the rest of the gang: Jessica, who was a ‘sort–of’ goth, in that she had long, jet–black hair and liked to wear spiky jewelry, although she didn’t go for all the black clothes; Tracey, who was a really sweet but timid girl with shoulder–length mousy brown hair; Jo, who everyone secretly envied because she was stunningly gorgeous. All five of the gang had lovely, well–proportioned bodies (even if they didn’t think so themselves!) but Jo was on a different level. She had thick, layered hair that was naturally burnt sienna, miracle–boobs and her face was incredibly pretty.
The other three girls were all waiting to be picked up at Jo’s dad’s country house. In order to get there, Emily needed to drive along a fairly deserted road with trees and fields on either side. There were never any other cars on that road so she always loved to put her foot down and boost along doing about 60 miles per hour.
As they shot through, Emily thought she saw a dark figure behind a wall. “Hey, was there a guy behind a wall back there?” she asked.
Hayley craned her neck around, laughing. “Didn’t see anything. Probably some old farmer bloke takin’ a piss!”
“Ha–ha, watering his crops,” said Emily.
They pulled into Jo’s gravel driveway and three rather tipsy figures in sexy party clothes came running out with bottles of Budweiser in their hands. The car suddenly felt a lot more alive as they clambered in. “I see you decided to start without me, gals,” said Emily, speeding back up the country road. The whoops and screams of laughter she got as a reply told her that they were probably on their third or fourth drink already. It promised to be a wild night.
“Who’s that in the middle of the road?” said Hayley, leaning forward in the passenger seat and squinting, “Oh, my fucking God!! It’s a copper!!”
“Oh, shit,” said Emily as the officer motioned for her to pull over, “you’re not kidding. I bet he was in the fucking bushes with a speed–gun when we went past before!! This is just great! I’m gonna get done for speeding!!! We’ll never get into town now!”
As Emily rolled down her window, the burly officer strolled over to the car. But instead of coming right to the door, he stopped, stared right at Emily, and said “Out of the vehicle, please.”
“Huh, don’t you just wanna see my license? I’m not drunk or anything, I’m…”
“Out of the vehicle, please! All of you,” he repeated, louder and a lot more forceful than before.
Slightly shaken, the girls climbed out one by one and gathered in front of the car. Jo and Tracey were still clutching their beers. Suddenly about five other massive men stood up from behind the walls and silently and quickly surrounded the gang. Up the road Emily could see a big white van speeding towards them. It didn’t take long for the girls to react, they bolted to get back in the Honda, but the first man pulled out a compact machine gun and yelled “Move and die!!”
Emily’s heart was racing; she seemed to be seeing everything in slow motion like it was some crazy nightmare. Another one of the men pulled out his own gun and started to shoot at the Honda. The windows shattered with an unbelievable boom. Tracey and Hayley spontaneously burst into tears. Emily, Jessica, and Jo just stood, rooted to the spot, shaking uncontrollably. By now the white van had skidded to a halt next to them and someone opened the sliding side door from the inside.
“Do exactly as I tell you, without question, and you will all live through this,” growled the man dressed as a cop, “try anything stupid, even once, and you die, just like that,” He snapped his fingers to illustrate the point, making Tracey jump out of her skin as she stood there, fists knotted at her side, her half–empty bottle of Bud on its side at her feet, tipping its contents onto the concrete. “Now get in the van!”
Hayley was the first to move, shuffling forward, trembling and sobbing loudly as she climbed into the van. Then Emily, her eyes wide with fear and her face totally devoid of color. Jo and Jessica went next, equally pale and frightened.
“You!” the man shouted at Tracey, who was still rooted to the spot, tears streaming down her face, shoulders spasming up and down as she cried from sheer terror, “In the van, now!”
Tracey shook her head violently. Her eyes were opening and closing hard.
The man walked over to her and raised his gun to her head. “Just get in the van, stupid bitch. Or perhaps you want to die?”
Tracey had always been shy and timid, and this was too much for her. She wanted desperately to get into the van but she simply couldn’t make her legs move. She was paralyzed with fear. A dark stain spread down the left leg of her light–brown cord trousers, blossoming outwards at her crotch as she lost control of her bladder and wet her pants. The stain reached the cuff of her trousers and her urine began pooling out into her left sock and shoe, overflowing onto the hard concrete and mixing with her spilled beer.
The man was getting impatient – “Do you want me to use this fucking thing, you little slut? You’re not the first bitch to piss herself when I stuck this thing in her face. Now move!”
Tracey was beyond terror by now. Still peeing, she fainted, collapsing onto her knees and over on her side. The man shrugged and picked her up, throwing her into the van and slamming the side–door.
“OK. Let’s go,” he yelled, and the kidnap squad all piled in.
The van sped along for about 30 minutes, all the while with Emily, Hayley, Jo, and Jessica sat clumsily on a bench along the inside with guns trained on them to discourage any escape ideas. Tracey was curled up on the floor in her sodden cords, gently sobbing. The stuffy air of the van was filled with the ammonia scent of her accident. Emily felt very sorry for her.
Hayley, who was wearing a short floral–print dress, was still crying uncontrollably and shaking as she crossed and un–crossed her legs– and her tears were dripping onto her knees.
“What’s wrong with you? Shut the hell up or you’re gonna get seriously hurt, girl!” said the man in the police uniform.
“Please, I need… Erm…, oh, God…” sobbed Hayley.
“What do you want?” he growled, leaning towards her with the gun still in his hand.
Hayley’s face contorted in fear and there was a trickling, spattering sound under the bench. She was wetting herself. Her trembling legs were still clamped together as she peed helplessly into her underwear, soaking her cotton dress and splashing her shoes.
“Just learn to keep your mouth shut,” said the man.
As the van pulled up the five captives were blindfolded and led into a large warehouse building. The doors slammed shut behind them and the blindfolds were whipped off.
“Take a seat, ladies,” smiled the fake–cop, gesturing towards two grubby sofas that looked like they had been ‘borrowed’ from the nearest waste–ground. He was obviously the leader of whatever sick organization this was, thought Emily, as they all took a seat. Tracey was conscious again, still shaking uncontrollably, and as she sat down she winced and started sobbing again as she felt the cold, damp material of her underwear against her skin.
“Anyone of you pretty little bundles–of–breasts want to guess what you’re doing here?”
No one spoke, so the man continued. “Perhaps I need to make it a little easier for you. What do all your Daddy’s have in common?” Still no answers. “They’re all rich, all in government, and they all spoil their beloved daughters rotten, so I figured it was about time someone cashed in on these happy little coincidences.”
“You fucking bastard,” whispered Jo.
“What was that?” screamed the man, pulling his gun back out and swinging it from one girl to the next. He was obviously a psychopath to have such a mood swing, thought Emily. Tracey closed her eyes and groaned quietly. Her pants became warm again as the sudden panic coaxed the last of her urine out.
“Right about now your parents should be getting some very interesting phone–calls,” he continued, still swinging the gun from one tear–streaked face to the next, “160 thousand pounds each, to see you alive again… otherwise…” He moved over to Jessica, grabbed her hair and placed the gun against her temple. Her eyes bulged; she screamed and started to make a sound like she was going to be sick.
“Please… please don’t kill me,” she choked, barely managing to get the words out.
The man began to pull the trigger. Jessica’s whole body tensed, her eyes clenched shut and the worst terror she had ever felt washed over her.
Jessica lost control of her bodily functions and wet her pants. She was wearing dark blue jeans and the warmth traveled right up the back, soaking her buttocks before settling into the fabric of the old sofa. No one would have even noticed her accident if she hadn’t gone bright red and glanced down at her crotch, moaning and shifting uncomfortably in the seat.
There was a shrill click and the man laughed. The gun wasn’t even loaded. He let go of her and she slumped back onto the sofa, staring straight ahead. Jessica started wailing loudly and rocking backwards and forwards. Emily put her arm around her and comforted her as well as she could under the circumstances.
5 hours passed while the men waited….
Various phone calls were made and received by the fake–cop, all of which he took in the far corner of the warehouse while his henchmen stared at the girls.
Emily noticed that Jo had her eyes shut and her legs clasped together hard. She was wearing light blue jeans and a see–thru top with a red bra underneath. “Jo!” she whispered, “Are you alright?”
“No, I really need the bathroom,” she replied, the strain of holding on showing in her eyes, “I drank a lot of beer before all this shit happened!”
The man noticed they were whispering. “Hey!! Keep quiet!! What are you bitches talking about, anyway?”
Emily looked him straight in the eye and spoke up– “We’re freezing cold and aching, thanks very much… and some of us need the bathroom.”
“Oh, really?” He sneered, “Which of you need the bathroom?”
Emily spoke again. “I do, for a start! And Jo is desperate. Can you take us there one by one or something? I swear we won’t try anything dumb.”
The man smirked and thought for a moment. “I’ll do you a deal. It’s going to be a pain in the arse taking you anywhere right now, so I’ll let you go pee if you each do me a favor.”
The girls exchanged glances – it was obvious that none of them liked the sound of this. “Can I go first, please?” Jo piped up, “I’m sorry, but I’m really dying to go…” It showed, too. Jo had crossed her legs now and was bouncing gently. Her eyes were wide.
The man turned and whispered with the others for a moment, then spun back around with a sick grin. “So you’re Jo, are you?” he said, studying her body in a way that made her flesh crawl, “Well, Jo, you can go for a piss if you put those delicate lips of yours to good use first.”
“What…,” Jo’s eyes narrowed and her mouth opened with disbelief as the man unzipped his trousers and pulled his penis out.
Jo shook her head in disgust. “You slimy perv!!” she spat, “I’ll never do that in a million years, go to Hell!!!”
The man just laughed. “In that case, young lady, you’re out of luck! You can just wait!!” He turned to walk away, then paused as his eyes narrowed. He got his gun out again and held it in the air “In fact, little madam… Stand up!!!”
Jo didn’t like the way he was holding the gun, so she hesitantly got to her feet, her legs pushed tightly together. God, she needed to pee so badly.
“Go in your pants,” said the man.
“Wh…,” Jo was speechless again.
“Go in your pants, like a toddler. Piss yourself like your mousy little friend here.” He pointed at Tracey, who was sucking her thumb by now, trying to block the world out.
“You sick fuck,” Jo hissed, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes welling with tears. She was trying to fight the urge to cry, she was a strong, independent woman and didn’t want to give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing her break down. The man once again put his gun to Tracey’s head, though she seemed not to notice this time.
“Piss in your pants, right now. Piss those jeans in the next ten seconds or you’re going to see your friend’s brains.
Jo couldn’t hold her tears or her bladder any longer. She hung her head and started to cry as the fabric down her inside leg darkened in a thin strip that quickly grew wider and began to glisten. Emily looked on in pity and disbelief as her friend stood there, deliberately urinating into her jeans. A large puddle formed at Jo’s feet and a stream escaped along the gradient of the warehouse flooring, trickling quickly towards the man, who just stood there, smiling evilly as he watched the wet patch making its way across her thighs.
“Feel like a baby now, don’t you?” he said calmly, “well that’s what you are, a 160 thousand pound baby.”
Jo slumped back onto the sofa with a soft squelch. She had never been so humiliated in her entire life. Her mind was reeling with shame. Had she really just stood there, at twenty years of age, in front of a perverted psychopath, and forced herself to pee through her knickers and jeans until she was empty? The warm, clammy feeling down her legs was unbearable. She wanted to be sick.
“I enjoyed that,” said the man, then turning to his henchmen, “watch them, I’m going to make a phone call. If any of the others want to piss, I think there’s a bucket over in the far corner. Let them use that, but keep an eye on them.” With that, he strode away and disappeared out of a side door.
Emily looked over at Jo and Tracey. They looked pretty beaten–down by now. She glanced at the nearest thug who was guarding them, and then over in the direction that the man had said the bucket was. She was getting pretty desperate herself by now. Jiggling her knees up and down didn’t really help much. She wished she wasn’t wearing such a revealing skirt.
“You want that bucket, don’t you?” said one of the guards.
Emily just looked at him and smiled sarcastically. ‘I hate you, scumbag,’ she thought.
Without saying another word, the burly guy got up from his seat, strolled over to the far corner and began rooting through all the junk. Finally he found the bucket and brought it back over, placing it on the floor half way between the girls and the guards. “Go for your life,” he said, his voice was very deep and he shrugged his massive shoulders, “I don’t want to see you have an accident, I’m not like the other guy.”
Emily looked at the bucket and shuddered. She was awfully desperate for the toilet, almost wetting her knickers, but she didn’t want to go in front of these men! “Can’t we get some privacy?” she asked, folding her arms and re–crossing her legs.
“Hey, it’s the bucket, where we can keep an eye on you, or nothing.”
Emily shook her head, her bladder was aching and she didn’t know how long she could last. She decided to swallow her pride and stood up. Immediately she realized just how badly she needed to pee, the pressure behind her pee–hole almost doubled once she was upright! She barely managed to suppress a gasp.
The big guard seemed to be telling the truth about his disinterest – polishing his gun with a cloth and examining his shoes – which for some reason made Emily a little more comfortable. She shuffled forward, legs pressed together as hard as she could manage, and began to lift up her skirt. It still felt extremely awkward and embarrassing when she realized she was about to pull her knickers down in front of these men and squat over a filthy bucket for the biggest wee of her life…
At that moment there was an almighty crash. Every single person in the room either screamed or shouted as they jumped a metaphorical mile in the air. An unmarked black wagon had burst through the main wooden doors of the warehouse while simultaneously the sky–lights exploded to allow six or seven men on ropes to come snaking down from above.
Emily squealed in panic, stumbling backwards. Something warm spread in her pants. ‘Oh my God I’m wetting myself’ she thought as the warmth overflowed through her blue panties and began to trickle down her legs and spatter on the ground between her feet. In less than twenty seconds every one of the guards was immobilized and in handcuffs as the SAS rescue team did their job to perfection. One of the SAS men jogged over to the girls as Emily stood there, eyes closed, her face a mixture of humiliation and deep relief as she continued to empty her aching bladder through her knickers, down her long sexy legs and onto the floor.
“It’s all ok, it’s over,” said the SAS man.
Emily finally stopped peeing and looked first at the puddle she had made on the floor, and then slowly raised her head so that her red–rimmed eyes met the soldier’s. The shame on her face was so strong.
“It’s ok, darling, we’ll get something to cover you with in just a second.” The way he spoke it seemed to Emily that he must have seen a lot of people who’d wet their pants before…
The girls were led out to a waiting police car, arms around each other, crying from sheer relief that the horrible ordeal was finally over. The sky looked strange as the car pulled away, and Emily realized that it was dawn. She glanced across at her friends, realized how much she loved them all, and even managed to smile when she saw that Tracey was lucid again, having come back out of her shell. She turned back and rested her forehead on the glass of the window.
The sky really did look beautiful.
Katykins