The Investigation

      It was a little after seven in the morning when I was called in to investigate a commercial burglary. As the first detective on the scene, I walked into the second floor office. I saw a beautiful woman tied to her office chair: her arms bound behind her, and her legs tied apart, to the arms of the chair.

      Her torso was tied to the chair, preventing her from getting up. Her skirt had ridden up to reveal some of her beautifully nyloned legs, topped off with a pair of heels. She was blindfolded. There was a piece of duct tape securing her mouth. She was pulling and writhing against the restraints in an effort to get herself out of the chair. She heard my footsteps, and was trying to speak through the gag.

      I removed the blindfold and I showed her my badge, and her eyes signaled her relief. From under the duct tape, she was trying to talk or scream to no avail. The crime scene investigators were on their way, and I really did not want to disturb the crime scene by untying her. The least I could do was to remove the duct tape from her mouth. I walked over to her, and removed the duct tape, and the handkerchief that the thief had stuffed in her mouth. She had a large bottle of water on her desk, and I fed it to her.

      "What's your name and what happened here?" I asked.

      "I'm Kate, and two guys robbed the vault last night. I've been here all night. Please, please untie me. I've been waiting to go to the bathroom, and I have to pee so very badly. The robbers tied my legs apart, so I couldn't even cross my legs." Kate had a frantic look in her eyes. It must have been difficult to try to hold her pee without crossing her legs or being able to press her thighs together.

      "I'm sorry, Kate, but you'll just have to wait until the crime scene people show up and process the scene."

      "Please help me. I don't think I can hold it much longer," Kate sighed. Kate pressed herself against the seat of the chair, and tried to bounce up and down.

      I'll do what I can, but I knew that the crime scene people were over an hour away."What can I do to help you?" I asked, as I fed her more water.

      "Talk to me," Kate replied.

      I began to ask Kate about the details of what happened. She launched into the story, and then stopped in mid-sentence."Please, you have to help me hold my pee."I really don't want to wet my pants. Pull up my skirt. I can't remember the last time I had to go this badly. My pantyhose and girdle are so tight they press against my bladder."Kate was biting her lips when an obvious wave of bladder pain assaulted her, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

      I managed to pull her skirt up to her hips. Her black pantyhose crept up under the leg of what appeared to be a very firm and tight panty girdle."How come you're wearing a girdle," I asked her. She responded that she loved the feeling of the pressure, and that it did wonders for making her feel sexier. I asked her what she would normally do to hold her pee.

      Kate said: "Normally, I wouldn't let it get this bad. But I'd cross my legs tightly, try to think of something else. If I were by myself or alone in my car, I'd clamp my hand against my crotch, and get to the bathroom as fast as I could. I hope that I could only hold it long enough to pull down by girdle and pantyhose. When I clamp my hands between my legs when I have to pee very badly, I get wild with desire, and since there is never anyone around, I gotta take care of it myself."

      As much as I wanted to, I did not want to touch her. That would compromise the crime scene and my investigation. Even from a short distance away, I could feel the heat and wetness coming from between her legs."I'd do just about anything to get out of this girdle. I've had it on for almost 24 hours, and it's so tight I just can't breathe any more."

      "Sorry, Kate," you 'll just have to hold it." I said. Although firmly tied to the chair, Kate was trying to bounce up and down. She was pulling against the ropes that kept her legs tied apart, as she tried to extricate her hands from behind her. For all her effort, her bindings held fast.

      I wanted to touch her very badly, but at the same time, watching her intense desire to pee was the most arousing thing I'd ever seen.

      "Please, please,"Kate begged,"Kiss me, as hard as you can, clamp your hand to my crotch... please do something to help me hold it. Oh, God, I'm going to pee in my pants," Kate whimpered again.

      "If you come, you'll pee in your pants and ruin my crime scene. You'll just have to hold it."

      "No, I can't hold it much longer. Please let me pee." Kate begged.

      Without any warning, I saw a small wet spot at the crotch of her girdle. "Sorry," she cried, "I can't hold it."

      As the crime scene people clattered up the stairs, I gave Kate a quick kiss, and whispered, "You'll just have to wait," in her ear. It looked as if every nerve in Kate's body was on fire...

      The crime scene people began taking photographs of the ropes and tape which held Kate to the chair. They appeared to be unique. I saw Kate frantically whispering to the female crime scene investigator, as Kate was grinding herself into the chair. I knew from that angle she could not get contact with her throbbing core.

      The female crime scene investigator cut the ropes tying Kate's legs apart, and she crossed them as hard, as tightly, and as fast as I've ever witnessed any woman do it. Kate was so frantic as she tried to grind herself into her chair. She looked to sexy and aroused as she was fighting to hold her pee and get some contact for herself. Momentarily, the crime scene people cut the ropes binding her hands behind her.

      She stood up a bit shakily on her high heels, and then she raised up her skirt, grabbed her crotch as hard as she could, and began running to the bathroom, just down the corridor. She was a sight, half bent over, running with her hand thrust between her legs.

      Once in the bathroom,Kate frantically tried to get to the high waist of her girdle to pull it down, all the while muttering "Oh God, oh, God, I'm going to pee in my pants." The waist of the girdle was above the waist of her skirt, and couldn't reach it from under her skirt. As she told me later, she had been waiting to pee for so long that it didn't matter whether she could get her girdle and hose off or not, so she just sat down and let go.

      Her relief was almost overwhelming. Kate continued to pee until she could get control of herself and stop long enough to get to the waist of her girdle. . . and rip it and her pantyhose off. She said it was so good to just get out of that underwear. She sat down to finish...and oh how her clit ached. She rubbed her clit hard and fast, and had to put her arm in her mouth to stifle the moan. Kate sat there for several minutes, regaining her breath and composure, and thinking about the events which had just transpired.

      Kate took her soaked underwear and hose and put it them a plastic bag to deal with later. She put her shoes back on, and went back into the office. I stood there waiting. "I'll have to take your formal statement," I said. "We'll have to go to the station."

      "Do we have to go to the station?" Kate asked."I'm hungry, I need a shower, I need clean underwear."

      Sorry Kate, you'll just have to wait until we're done at the station. Once we got into my car, she crossed her legs again, and told me to hurry as she had to pee again...and very badly. I was thinking that my handcuffs might come in handy.

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