The occasion was my birthday -- never mind which one. Chloe, my girlfriend of some six months, took me to dinner, insisted on paying, and then drove us to a country inn called The Fox (what else?) for a few celebratory drinks at non-restaurant prices. The pub was our local, so we knew most of the people propping up the bar, for better or for worse.

      Chloe, who had donned a black ensemble for dinner (dress, stockings and heels -- it went with her black, shoulder-length hair), looked too well dressed for the establishment. The dress showed off her rather marvellous figure and was attracting plenty of covert glances from just about every man in the room.

      She ordered two black and tans, I think mainly to watch the barman pour this oh-so-delicate drink. As we worked our way through the first round, we got talking to a young, recently married couple full of honeymoon stories. They even had some photos with them. Catching Chloe's eye after the twentieth picture, or maybe it was the thirtieth, I made a "Let's get outta here" face. Chloe's only response to this was to stomp her heel down on my foot beneath the table. I did my best not to yelp like a girl, but it did hurt. She often seemed to forget just how sharp a high heel could be.

      I made the excuse that we needed refills and went up to the bar to order another round of B&Ts. When I returned to the table with the drink, the guy (Collin) was holding forth on the wonders of southern France, and I took the opportunity to head off to the gents. Being a quaint old country inn, the toilets were outside, a real throw-back to the good old days. In some respects, it was as well they were housed in an external building where the air could get in, because they always stank to high heaven.

      On my way back in, I ran into Chloe just emerging into the cool evening air. She looked to be in a bit of a hurry.

      "Making your escape too?"

      "I came out to visit the loo, actually. And don't be so mean. They're newly-weds."

      "I hope we don't end up doing that to strangers in pubs when we get married."

      "Marry you? You must be joking. Now would you mind not blocking my way? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

      I could hear Chloe's heels tapping on the concrete path as she fidgeted.

      "Too bad, because I want you to come back inside with me, have another drink, and then we're going to leave."

      "Not a hope. I need to pee."

      "I know, and I want you to stay that way until we get home."

      "What for? Other than the fact that you're such a total perv?"

      "You know it turns me on to watch you struggling to wait. Be a love and hold it for me."

      "Mike, I can't. I've had two glasses of beer and I really need to go."

      "If you'll do it, I'll walk your dog for a whole month."

      "Morning and evening?"

      "Yes. Morning and evening."

      Chloe hesitated, and cast a look of longing over my shoulder at the Ladies just a dozen steps away, not doubt thinking about the relief so near at hand. At last, she released a sharp breath through her nose.

      "All right, I'll do it. But this is the last time for a long time. Okay? It's painful."

      "I know."

      I moved closer and kissed her. She kissed back, but she kept moving around as she continued fidgeting her legs. I gently turned her around and led her back into the bar. We'd both been gone long enough that it must have looked to the newly-weds that we had both answered the call of nature.

      Chloe was about to sit down when I said, "It's your round."

      She glared at me for a moment, then walked dutifully over to the bar. It might have been just my imagination, but I could have sworn that her walk was just a tad mincing. As Collin held forth once more, this time about the peculiarities of French cuisine, I kept a surreptitious eye on Chloe. In particular, I watched the way she was tapping the toe of her right shoe on the floor, which abruptly ended when she crossed her legs.

      She finally got served and returned with two more glasses of Black and Tan, then sat down beside me. She immediately crossed her legs, and glancing down I could see that she had tucked her right foot round behind her left calf. She was clearly squeezing her thighs together as tightly as she could.

      Chloe didn't participate much in the conversation. Instead, she worked on getting through her drink as quickly as possible so that we could leave. Aware that she was trying to hurry things along, I did as she suggested and was nice to the newly-weds, chatting with them about anything that came into my mind, giving me the perfect excuse to take my time over my drink.

      After perhaps ten minutes of this, my glass was still almost full. That was when Chloe decided it was time to take action.

      "Drink up, Mike. There's a late program on TV I want to see."

      "Okay."

      My acquiescence was prompt enough, but I still chatted and took my time over my drink. After a further five minutes when I didn't seem to be making much progress, I heard Chloe sigh impatiently. I'd been keeping a surreptitious eye on her, and was aware that she was no longer able to sit still. Every minute or so, she would re-cross her legs, and in between these changeovers, she sat rocking her knees from side to side.

      Afraid that if I delayed much longer, she might break her word and make a dash for the loo, I drank up and wished the newly-weds all the best for their future, and stood up. Chloe practically leapt to her feet to join me.

      Outside, she made a series of gasping sounds as her heels clicked along the road towards where she'd parked the car. When she spoke, her voice sounded breathless.

      "Will you drive? I'll need to keep my legs crossed in the car if I'm going to make it home without wetting myself."

      "Of course."

      She unlocked the doors and climbed into the front passenger seat. Instead of going straight to the driver's side, I opened the boot and took out a small, hold-all bag which I had packed earlier in the hope that I might persuade Chloe into a desperate situation. I was just about to make it worse.

      I opened the rear left door and climbed in. Chloe's surprised face appeared round the side of her headrest.

      "What in the world are you doing back there?"

      "Put your hands down by your sides."

      "What?"

      "Hands by your sides."

      "Why?"

      "Because I'm going to handcuff you to the seat."

      "You most certainly are not."

      "Oh, come on Chloe. It's my birthday."

      "Mike, I'm dying for the loo, and I'm not even sure I can make it home before I pee all over my dress, not to mention the car seat. The last thing I'm going to let you do is handcuff me, because you'd never let me go in time."

      "I might."

      "Oh, right, and politicians have brains."

      "Please, Chloe. I'll beg, and that's such a pathetic sight, you'll wish you hadn't made me do it."

      Chloe shook her head, pulling an anguished face.

      "I can't. I'm nearly bursting as it is, and I'm going to need a take a lot of help from my hands if I'm going to hold it all in until I get home."

      "I'll help you."

      "You what?"

      "I'll put my hand up your dress - big hardship that - and I'll press on your crotch for you."

      "And you're going to do this while you're driving?"

      "I can do it."

      "Oh for heaven's sake. Why did I have to date a pervert?"

      "Just lucky, I guess."

      She sighed hugely and turned back to face the front. A moment later, her hands appeared, one on either side of her seat.

      "All right. Just get on with it and let's get home before it's too late."

      "You're an angel."

      "Insane, more like."

      I closed a bracelet around her left wrist, and its partner, to the frame supporting the seat. I then repeated this with her right wrist. Then I climbed out and got back in beside her. She was sitting with her legs tightly crossed, her torso leaning forward, head hanging so that her hair concealed her face.

      "Are you all right?"

      "Just get going."

      "In a minute. One more thing to attend to first."

      I pulled my tie loose and slipped the loop over my head, then leaned across Chloe just as she uncrossed her legs with the intention of crossing them in the opposite direction.

      "What are you doing? Get off!"

      I reached down and slipped my left hand beneath her calves, then lifted them so that her feet came clear of the floor. I quickly looped the tie over both feet and pulled it tight around her ankles and secured it. She was furious.

      "No! I need to cross my legs. Don't you get it? I'm absolutely bursting here. Now untie me!"

      "Sorry. Can't do that."

      "You bastard! You're going to make me pee myself!"

      I started the engine and pulled out onto the street as Chloe delivered a tirade, using words I didn't even think she knew. During a lull when she paused for breath, I interjected:

      "Look, we'll be at my place in less than fifteen minutes. You can wait till then, can't you?"

      Her answer was a furious, frustrated sigh. She went back to hanging her head and tapping her heels on the floor, so that her knees bounced up and down in that way that I find so completely alluring when a woman is desperate to pee.

      The light was fading now, but I could still see Chloe perfectly well, bathed as she was in the glow from the dashboard. When I judged she had calmed down enough, I reached over and squeezed her right thigh a few inches above the knee, and could actually feel her muscles trembling. She was rocking back and forth now, letting out periodic moans as she fought with her tortured bladder. After a few moments, she said, somewhat accusingly:

      "I thought you said you would help?"

      "I did. I will. I just thought... What can I do?"

      She treated me to a scornful glance.

      "What do you think? Put you hand against my urethra and press. Can you do that?"

      "Sure."

      I raised the hem of her dress until I glimpsed her milky thigh above the top of her stocking, then slid my hand down between her legs. Her skin was hot and sweaty, and her panties felt damp as if she had already leaked into them. Chloe grunted impatiently.

      "For God's sake, press!"

      I shifted my hand until the palm rested on her pubic bone, then pressed hard with my two middle fingers. Chloe spasmed as i applied pressure, and I wondered if the force of my palm against her was worsening her situation more than my pressing fingers were mitigating it.

      "Oh God, Mike, you've got to drive faster. I'm ready to explode."

      "If you want me to drive faster, I'll need to take my hand away."

      Chloe let out a long, agonized moan and leaned over so that her breasts were almost resting on her legs.

      "It's no good. I can't hold it any longer. Stop the car."

      "But there's nothing out there. There no cover."

      "I don't care! I just have to pee. Now please stop and let me go."

      "Well, okay. If you insist."

      I withdrew my hand from Chloe's crotch and she immediately began to squirm frantically, trying to cross her legs and being prevented from doing so by the tie around her ankles. I slowed the Rover and looked for a safe place to pull off, while beside me, Chloe chanted.

      "Hold it--hold it--hold--it. Gotta hold it. Ooohhh! Oh God! I'm so desperate. Please hurry up or I'll wet myself. Ooohhh!"

      I continued driving and Chloe continued struggling frantically against the handcuffs pinning her arms at her sides. The bracelets clanged against the seat frame as she repeatedly tugged at them in blind frustration.

      Her dress was still gathered at the top of her legs, exposing all of her thighs and the tops of her stockings. I could hardly keep my eyes on the road ahead, let alone look for a place to stop. Suddenly, she started shouting at me.

      "Will you stop the car! I starting to pee in my panties. Ooohhhhh God!"

      "I'm trying to find somewhere. There are just no pull-ins."

      "I don't care. Just stop. Now! I can't hold it any more."

      Then I saw a place to pull out of the traffic. It was only big enough for a single car, and was probably the opening of an access road, but it would have to do. I pulled up and the traffic which had been building up behind me accelerated past.

      Bouncing up and down in her seat now, Chloe rattled the handcuffs again.

      "Get these off! I'm pissing myself!"

      I groped in my jacket pocket for the key, found it and tried to insert it into the lock of the bracelet securing her right wrist, but she was tugging so hard that I kept missing the opening. I told her to hold still.

      "How can I sit still when my bladder's about to explode?"

      I took hold of her arm to still it and managed to get the key into the lock. I turned it, and Chloe promptly pulled her hand free and plunged it between her legs, rocking and groaning. Then, just as suddenly, she withdrew her hand and opened the door of the Rover. She swung her legs out and stood up, although she couldn't straighten up properly because her left wrist was still chained to the base of the seat. She glanced into the cabin and saw me watching her, her face puckered with the strain of holding back the flood.

      "Undo my other hand. Quick. I can't--ooohh! I can't hold it."

      These last words were squeezed out through clenched teeth. I leaned across the passenger seat, intending to unlock the other bracelet, when Chloe suddenly bent down and extended her free hand towards her ankles, as if she planned to work on releasing the tie. She just as suddenly aborted this plan, and i wondered for a moment what she was doing. Then I realized that that the added pressure on her bladder when she bent over so far must have forced her to rise again.

      "Oh no. No. Please no. Help me Mike. Oooohhhhhhhh!"

      She snatched at the hem of her dress and started to lift it. She had only raised it as far as the middle of her thighs when she froze, issuing a startled gasp. Then I heard the hissing sound as she began to wet herself through closed legs. I watched, fascinated, as the lights of passing cars illuminated her stocking-clad legs, making the streams of pee glisten as they wriggled down her now-motionless legs.

      "Oh God, I can't believe this is happening."

      Neither could I. I stayed completely still, sprawled across the seat, watching her wet herself from just a few feet away. I glanced up and saw that she had her eyes closed, probably mortified by her accident, but perhaps she was also savoring the relief of letting it all go.

      Chloe must have stood there peeing for the better part of a minute. Her bladder must have been at capacity when the urge to release finally overmastered her. When she had finished, I climbed out on the driver's side and went round to the boot of the rover. I had some plastic sheeting stored in there against roadside breakdowns and the need to slide under the engine. I folded it a few times and placed it on the front passenger seat, then motioned Chloe to get back in. She complied without saying anything, and when I joined her again soon afterwards, I once again reached over and rested a hand on her thigh. Her dress was wet, and agitated by my contact, she took hold of me with her free hand and tried to pull mine away from her leg. Softly, I said,

      "Let me touch you."

      "But I'm all wet. It's horrible."

      "It's fine."

      I slid my hand down to her knee and experienced a wet stocking. She really was soaked.

      "Please don't, Mike. It's so embarrassing."

      I leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth. After a few seconds, she pulled away and said:

      "Dog. Walks morning and evening. Two months."

      "We agreed on one."

      "It was worth two."

      "Yes, ma'am."

      She sighed, the sound more one of resignation that annoyance. "What am I going to do with you, Michael?"

      When we arrived back at my place, I found out.