Alex, Andrew, and Phil had been childhood friends and shared the same fetish. They
all loved to see beautiful women get desperate. When Fiona moved to their town, they
put their wits together to hatch a plot of devillish proportions. Andrew was the
manager of a pub, and Phil was a policeman. As Alex and Fiona had been giving each
other looks, it was decided that he would bring her to Andrew's pub for a few
drinks.
Fiona was a shy girl. She had lovely black hair and was beautiful in a chiselled, ballerina sort of way. She had big, soulful brown eyes and exuded grace and femininity with every movement. Being too shy to broach the subject, she was delighted when Alex invited her. On the night in question, she wore slim-fitting, faded jeans and a white tee-shirt. As planned, Alex brought her to Andrew's pub. Andrew himself took their first order which was a pint each. As they sipped and spoke of this and that, they began to form a connection and though Fiona felt the first twinges of her bladder, she did not leave the table.
"So I hear you're vegetarian," said Alex.
"Yes. I spent six months in an ashram in India. They taught us how to care for animals and that animals have feelings too," Fiona replied, delighted that he had taken an interest in her.
David teased her about her vegetarianism, but did not dwell on the subject. They spoke of politics, of tennis which Fiona was very fond of, of cricket which Alex loved but she didn't. The conversation was getting intimate and Fiona did not want to leave the table at this point.
Alex ordered another round, and at the end of the second pint, Fiona definitely decided that she needed to go. She wasn't bad as yet, but she would be in some time. But she wondered how she would broach the subject. As she looked for her cue, Alex announced his need to go and left the table shortly. This was Andrew's cue. He closely observed her from the corner of his eye and as she prepared to get up, he sneaked quickly in the direction of the ladies' which were in the basement and therefore not easy to find and put up a sign there saying "Closed for Maintenance."
When he returned to the bar, he found Fiona standing there nervously twiddling her thumbs, her legs tightly pressed together. In an embarassed sort of way, she asked him, "Can you tell me where the loos are?"
"Down the stairs in the basement," Andrew replied, "But I wouldn't bank on them. Someone got sick in there earlier today."
"Well, I suppose I have no choice," she said blushing.
As she climbed down the stairs, her urgency increased, till she reached her destination and found to her dismay that they were closed. "Oh, no. I'll just have to hold it in, she said.
To avoid leaking, she undertook a series of gyrations and managed to stem the flow. When she returned, she found Alex waiting for her. And he had ordered another pint for each of them. Seeing her pale face, he asked her, "What's wrong?"
Evading the subject, she said with a smile, "Why don't we go to my place?"
Alex agreed. "As soon as finish this round, we leave," he said.
She said nothing and drank slowly wondering when the loos would open. Frantically she looked at the bar staff and hoped to see one of them returning with the sign placed outside the loo. But it was not to be. In fact, there were no bar staff. It was a Tuesday and Andrew had given the rest of the staff the day off. Nothing for it, but to wait till they reached home. Fiona steeled herself. But it was only a fifteen minute drive. As Alex drained off the last remnants of beer in his pint, he said, "Well, time to go."
He was surprised to see the enthusiasm in her voice and smiled to himself. This was going to be a great night. Andrew came to their table on cue and made an announcement.
"As you are the twenty fifth couple to enter the pub this week, you have won a free pint," he said.
Alex was, of course, enthusiastic. Fiona groaned inwardly and tried to smile. Quickly they drank up and Fiona clenched her thighs all the way to the car to avoid appearing desperate. These were her best jeans. She could not get them wet. The perfect gentleman, Alex opened the door for the lady and in she went. In the few seconds before he entered the car, she squirmed, and crossed her legs and pressed down on her crotch. It made her feel better and she felt she could definitely hold it till they got home. As Alex drove along, Fiona was delighted to note that he was driving fast. They would get home quickly and she would be able to relieve herself.
She seemed very talkative during the journey. She asked him questions on politics, history, even cricket for which she seemed to have developed an unusual amount of enthusiasm. "So what do you think of the new bloke, Andrew Strauss?" "I think Shane Warne's a jerk. All that phone sex. Who does he think he is?"
Just then, the sound of a siren.
It was Phil on cue. Alex stopped the car. Fiona went pale. Not at this time. Of all times. With as menacing a look as he could manage, Phil came up to the car and asked for license and registration. The procedure seemed to be taking forever and Fiona was now starting to squirm in her seat. She shoved her hands between her crotch and held on for dear life. Sure enough, Phil tested Alex for alcohol and then, in a surprising turn of events, he put the breathalyzer to her mouth. He said that in this town it was illegal for both front seat passengers to be drunk as she could be an obstruction to the driver. The results were as expected. They were both beyond the limit. Phil took out two pairs of handcuffs and said with as menacing a scowl as he could manage, "Get out of the car please."
Fiona was dying. She could barely walk. With great will power, she stood up. She hoped he would cuff her in front, so she could hold herself. No such luck. He cuffed her hands behind her. She had never been so desperate before. As he told them to get into the police car, she hobbled taking baby steps, no longer making any effort to hide her situation. As she sat with Alex in the back of the car, she looked at him with sad, pleading eyes. This made her look more beautiful. Then she said, "Please. I need a loo. The one in the pub was closed."
Alex pretended to soothe her. On her behalf, he asked Phil if she could go. But Phil was playing bad cop and muttered that this was probably just an excuse to escape. And so they headed for the station. They arrived in less than ten minutes and Phil kept them in a holding cell still handcuffed. Fiona was in agony.
"Oh, please, Alex, "she pleaded, "I'm about to have an accident. Help me."
Alex looked at Phil with a wink. "She can't escape now. Why don't you let her use the loo? And is it legal to use handcuffs in a holding cell?"