"Hello. This is Mark."

      "Mark. Where are you?"

      "Lisa. Look, sorry but I'm running late. Where are you?"

      "Sitting on the wall at the park, with the evidence," Lisa said, crossing her legs and shifting her body slightly. "Mark, I can't afford to hang about. I think they suspect me, and once they discover I'm gone, I know they'll come after me."

      "Sorry. I got tied up at work. There was nothing I could do about it."

      "Oh great. So you just leave me to fend for myself. What kind of partner are you?"

      "Look, I said I'm sorry." After a brief pause, Mark added, "Just stay where you are. I'll be there in ten minutes."

      "Five," Lisa demanded, pressing the palm of her left hand on her thigh, wishing she could slide her skirt up and press her fingers against her crotch. "I need the loo and I'm not sitting here in agony while you toss around."

      "Alright, alright. Keep your knickers on. Five minutes. I'll pick you up at the entrance, so be there."

      Lisa broke the connection and sighed. Mark was just so unreliable. Why the hell had she let herself get mixed up with him? Oh well, it was too late to turn back now. The blueprints for the new shopping complex were in her hands, and she would do everything she could to stop South Coast Construction from getting the go ahead to build it, after what they did to Mr and Mrs James. An old couple who did not wish to sell the home they had lived in since getting married, the Jameses had met with a fatal traffic accident three days after telling the Director of South Coast Construction what he could do with himself. And there had been others, she was sure of it. There were just too many coincidences.

      Lisa was so preoccupied with her thoughts, and with nursing her throbbing bladder, that she did not catch the faint sound of someone creeping up behind her. She dropped her cell as a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. She felt an arm snake around her waist, gripping her tightly. She grabbed at the arm, trying to pull it away from her abdomen to stop it squashing her bladder, but its owner was far too strong. She pressed her knees together to ward off the sudden desire to urinate in her clothes.

      "You little bitch," a voice grated in her ear. "Try to sell the company out, would you? Well we're on to your little game Lisa."

      Lisa issued a muffled cry through the glove, squirming frantically to break free.

      "We'll just wait a minute," the voice grated again. "When you fall asleep, I'm going to take you for a little ride."

      The glove covering her nose and mouth contained a piece of cloth. What was that sickly odour? The park began swimming before her. Finally, too late, she understood. She was being drugged; sedated. Despite her strength ebbing away, Lisa fought to stay conscious, but then her fluttering eyelids dropped shut and darkness rushed in on all sides.

      She had no sense of time. Hours might have passed before she regained consciousness, or it might only have been a few minutes. She was badly disorientated: She felt as if she had been sleeping on her feet. At least she was standing up, albeit with the aid of...of what?

      Lisa opened her eyes to behold a blurred world. While she could not bring it into focus, she sensed that it was a different place. She was no longer in the park. No birds sang here, and the acoustics were different. She was inside - that had to be it.

      Lisa tried to move her arms, but they wouldn't respond. Someone was holding her wrists behind her, someone with coarse skin. No, not hands. Something else. She flexed her fingers, balling her right hand into a fist. She could feel her fingernails pressing into her palm. Again, she tried to move her arms, and again they refused to budge.

      Then the truth dawned like a blinding flash. Her wrists were not being gripped by hands, but by rope. She had been tied up! She was also aware of the sticky tape stretched across her mouth and cheeks, gagging her.

      That was not all: She felt rope squeezing her body above and below her breasts, pinning her to a post of some kind. Her legs had been tied too because she could feel the bite of rope around her ankles, and her feet were cold because they were bare -- she must have lost her shoes in the struggle. But worst of all, her bladder ached. It ached abominably. She still needed to pee, only now the urge to go was truly urgent.

      "So, you're awake," said a voice close behind her.

      Lisa turned her head and tried to focus on the face of the man pressing the tape more firmly against her cheek with his gloved hand.

      She knew who it was of course: Brad Smith, one of South Coast Construction's fix-it men. She'd recognised his voice when he had grabbed her in the park. This was the man primarily responsible for removing obstacles in the company's path. Fixing accidents. And now, she realised, he would soon be fixing one for her.

      Lisa entertained a flicker of hope as she remembered Mark coming to collect her. But would he have the brains to realize what must have happened to her? Probably not, she admitted regretfully. In any case, she was pretty sure she was inside the South Coast's warehouse where Mark would not be able to gain entry, even if he did manage to put two and two together. He might eventually think to call the police she supposed, but by then it would probably be too late.

      Her senses almost fully restored to her, Lisa became aware that the place was silent; no voices and no machinery running. Everyone had knocked off and gone home. There was only Smith, and -- she did her best to focus -- was there also someone inside the mobile office?

      Smith said, "So, you thought you'd try throwing a spanner in the works, eh Lisa? Well, didn't work, did it. Now you're really in the crapper."

      Lisa felt her full bladder twinge. Reflexively, she raised her heels and stood on her balls of her feet, scrunching her toes against the cold concrete floor. Her thigh muscles tightened, and she tried to bring her hands round to the front to press against her groin, but of course she couldn't.

      Smith noticed her discomfort. "What's up with you, apart from the obvious?" he asked.

      Lisa made a muffled sound through her gag, her features puckering as she endured a spasm of pain in her swollen abdomen. "Oh, I get it. Hey, Pete, our Lisa needs to piss, and she's all tied up with nowhere to go. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You're just gonna have to hold it in, Lisa my love."

      Smith moved around the post and appeared on Lisa's left. She turned her face away from him as he rested a hand on her stomach and began rubbing it up and down her front, going down to her crotch, applying pressure to her bladder on each pass.

      "Leave her until the others get here, Smith," Pete shouted from the site office. "They'll want to find out if she's working with anyone. We have to make sure the information she tried to leak doesn't get to the Press."

      "Right," Smith said, watching Lisa squirm as she struggled to resist the pressure he was bringing to bear on her bladder. "Hear that Lisa. We gotta contain the leak." Smith moved his face close to hers. "How you doing containing your leak?"

      After a final, vigorous squeeze, Smith mercifully stopped pressing on her abdomen. Lisa wiggled her legs as she frantically struggled to maintain control. God, she was so desperate to pee. What the hell was she going to do?

      Smith took up his position behind the pillar again, and she felt him grab hold of her arms at the elbows and pull them back. "Just making sure things are nice and firm back here," she said. "Just like your body Lisa. Nice and firm. I plan to make use of it when they've finished with you, just before I kill you."

      Lisa felt a thrill of panic and began to hyperventilate through her gag. Fear coursed through her body and her muscles turned to water. She was on the brink of wetting herself when Smith added, "No peeing your knickers now. I don't want you all wet and smelly when it's time for me to have my fun. So just keep holding it. You got that?"

      Lisa issued an unintelligible protest through her gag, shaking her head from side to side as tears welled in her eyes. Her bladder was already stretched to bursting point and she knew she simply couldn't hold herself much longer. She was terrified of what Smith would do when she lost control and wet her skirt.

      "Smith," Pete called. "In here. Now."

      "Coming," Smith answered. He was just moving off in the direction of the office when he paused to glance back at the struggling girl. "I'll be coming later too, with you Lisa. Keep yourself dry for me, there's a good girl."

      Lisa tugged and strained at the ropes binding her to the pillar, but Smith had tied them too well. She couldn't get free, and yet she had to go to the loo. She was breaking her neck! She continued wiggling her knees back and forth in a rapid scissoring motion, fighting to bend forward to take some of the strain off her aching bladder. But it was no good -- she was tightly trussed and barely able to move.

      Her bladder gave an involuntarily contraction, trying to force her to void. Lisa gasped through her nose, battling for control. A squirt of pee escaped from her and soaked into her knickers. A few seconds later, another squirt forced its way out and this time she felt urine trickling down the insides of her thighs. Again she strained to lean forward, this time to peer down at her legs. She could see no evidence of what she had done on the front of her skirt, but one more squirt and she knew it would surely begin soaking through.

      She scissored her legs again, managing to halt the progress of the trickling pee before it emerged from beneath the hem of her skirt. She tugged at the restraining ropes, desperate to free herself. She wiggling her legs in an effort to prevent any more urine escaping, but her bladder was painfully distended and under appalling pressure. She really couldn't hold out much longer.

      With a tremendous effort of will, she managed to stave off the inevitable for a minute or so longer before another squirt of pee escaped between her legs. This time, the jet was more powerful and, try as she may, Lisa could not stem the flow this time. She groaned in despair as her weary bladder muscles yielded and what had started as a squirt turned into a sustained stream of urine. Moments later, the stream surged into an unstoppable torrent. She was wetting herself and there was nothing she could do about it.

      She made muffled, whimpering sounds as the pressure on her abdomen began to subside. Pee raced down her bound legs, pooling on the concrete at her feet. She stood on her toes, tensing her thighs in a futile attempt to regain control, but it was no use -- the floodgates were well and truly open.

      Lisa peered down at her thighs once more, and this time saw the devastating evidence of her accident. The entire front panel of her skirt was soaked. She could feel that the back was equally drenched. Pee was gushing up as far as her bottom before adding to the huge puddle spreading out across the warehouse floor.

      Lisa felt her cheeks redden with humiliation. She had been forced to stand there and wet herself. Her lower half was utterly soaked, her clothes growing cold against her skin. She watched in despair as the pool of pee spread relentlessly outward, amazed by how much of it there was. She couldn't believe she had held all that liquid inside her bladder, and for so long. No wonder her abdomen ached and her exhausted muscles still trembled inside her. She wondered how close to bursting her poor bladder had come before the urge to release finally overwhelmed her?

      Then she remembered that her problems were far from over. Smith would be back soon. Warily, she watched the office doorway and waited for him to reappear, wondering what he would do to her when he discovered that she had disobeyed his instructions and wet herself. She prayed that Pete was not as sadistic as his colleague and would offer her some protection. But even if he did, would she survive to see another day?