Christina saved the document and rose from her chair, feeling the weight of her bladder shift in her abdomen. Her boss, Karl Shultz, had left her and Gina, the company's part-time secretary, to man the office more than two hours before, and after Gina's departure at five, there had been no one to relieve her while she dashed to the loo. She knew she shouldn't leave the office unattended - it was still only five-forty and the office didn't officially close until six - but she really did need to pee so badly. She had to go.

      Christina was halfway to the office door when the telephone on her desk began to warble. She broke her stride, casting a resentful look back at the instrument as if it were deliberately conspiring to delay her. The urge to pee intensified sharply at the thought of answering the call, and decided to leave it. "They'll call back," she told herself, and resumed walking.

      But then, in the doorway, her conscience got the better of her. She paused, irresolute, bending her right knee and pushing a hand against the front of her skirt. Why in the world did she always feel compelled to be so damned efficient? Or was it just the unshakable belief that the one call gone unanswered was THE call that would change her life?

      Cursing, Christina hobbled back to her desk and picked up the receiver. "Schultz Haulage and Storage," she announced.

      "Hello Miss Christina," said the voice in her ear. She screwed up her face in frustration, cursing herself for an idiot. It was the boss's brother, Carmichael. She knew he would drone on forever, always trying to put a move on her even though he was a halitosis-ridden fart. She could have told him that women avoided him because being in his company was like visiting a sewage plant, but she knew he had enough influence with his brother to get her sacked, and she needed this job: her mortgage depended on it!

      She exchanged the usual pleasantries and Car (he liked to be called Car, and Christina had lost count of the number of times she'd pray he would get himself run down by one) twittered on and on as she stood tapping her right and left heels alternately, trying to think of a polite way to end the call.

      But Car was not to be interrupted. He had started on a long diatribe about how building work next to his house was waking him at six every morning, and how he needed something--or someone--to help him relax when he became frustrated. The sexual innuendos became more blatant as he went on, and Christina mouthed the word DAMN as she bent her knees and reached down with her free hand to ram her fingers between her nylon-clad thighs. Hopping and dancing, she pressed firmly against the crotch of her panties. Despite her efforts to combat her desire to piss, her bladder gave a violent spasm and nearly forcing her to wet herself.

      "Mr. Schultz," she interrupted Car's chatter.

      "How many times have I told you to call me Car?"

      "Car," Christina amended, "I have some urgent work to finish before we close today, so I really do need to go now."

      "You're not trying to get rid of me, are you Christina?"

      "Of course not. It's just that's it's almost ten to six."

      "I see." Car sighed histrionically. "Very well then. But call me tomorrow."

      "Yes, alright."

      "Promise?"

      "I promise," Christina gasped out the word. She would have said anything to get him off the phone and allow her to get to the loo.

      "Good. I'll hold you to it," she vaguely heard Car saying as she crossed her legs, tightening her thigh muscles and squashing her fingers. God, she was bursting! "You still there, Christina? Did you hear what I said?"

      "Of course," she replied automatically, her voice tight with the effort of holding back the flood.

      "Sure you won't consider dinner? I could pick you up at eight."

      "Sorry, I'm seeing my boyfriend tonight," she offered the standard rejoinder, writhing around like a snake as she fought the imperative urge to void her bladder where she was standing.

      "He's a lucky man," Car said, his tone slightly sharper. Christina decided it would be wise to mollify him and trawled her mind for something that would take the sting out of yet another rejection. She really did need to keep this job. It might have been easier to come up with something if only she hadn't been on the brink of pissing herself. She was literally dancing now in order to hold it in, knowing that if she didn't find a solution soon, it would be too late!

      Still struggling for a suitable response, she heard Car say, "Okay Christina, but I'll remember this." Then, to the her immense relief, he hung up.

      "Wanker," she muttered as she replaced the phone and hobbled towards the door. If any more calls came in, even if one of them was from the lottery office to inform her she'd won enough money to retire for the rest of her life, they would have to wait...something she herself was barely able to do at this moment.

      She was halfway along the passageway towards the toilets before she noticed that the door to the ladies was propped open. Sounds of male whistling were coming from inside. "Oh no," she whispered in despair: the cleaner. Why did he have to be doing the ladies room right now? Come to that, why couldn't the company employ a cleaning woman to and avoid awkward situations like this?

      Christina stopped walking and crossed her legs. The whistling continued unabated; at least her presence had not been noticed. She considered using the gents, but that would almost certainly mean getting into another meaningless conversation with another lecherous male. She quietly retraced her steps, trying not to let her heels click on the floor when all she really wanted to do was run! She headed for the swing doors leading through into the warehouse - she would use the toilet in there.

      As she stepped into the large open space, she received the shock of her life. Tied to a chair just twenty feet away, her jacket open to exposed her bra, her skirt pushed up to the tops of her thighs, sat Gina. She was squirming, her bound legs shaking and tugging against the ropes holding them. Rope had also been strapped around her body to pin her to the chair, while her arms were pulled behind her, informing Christina that her colleague's hands were surely bound. What was going on? Was the place being robbed? .

      Gina shook her head frantically as Christina continued to approach, clearly intending to render assistance. Christina frowned, unable to comprehend the girl's warning through her cleave gag. Too late, she realized the danger as a powerful arm wrapped around her body, and a hand simultaneously clamped over her mouth. Christina's legs spasmed as she almost wet herself. In fact, she started to go, letting a jet of piss shoot into her knickers before she could squeeze off the flow.

      Karl's familiar voice said, "Oh, Christina. What a pity you had to come in here. Gina I half expected because she's just so damn nosey, but you? I'm surprised at you."

      "What's she still doing here?" demanded another male voice from behind them. Christina reflexively tried to turn to see who it was, but Karl held here firm, suppressing the movement.

      "This is Christina," Karl supplied. "Very conscientious; never leaves early."

      "Oh for fuck's sake. What are we going to do now?"

      "We don't have a choice," Karl answered. "Get another chair and we'll tie her up too."

      Christina tried to speak, to protest, to tell her boss that she had only come into the warehouse to use the loo because the cleaner was busy in the office toilets. But Karl's hand continued to press firmly against her mouth, preventing her from explaining her dilemma. Christina crossed her legs, trying to bend forward, fighting to hold on. Fear, coupled with a massively-full bladder, was making it nearly impossible to keep from peeing her panties. Another squirt escaped, soaking her crotch, and she barely managed to regain control this time. God, she had to piss so very, very badly.

      She heard the second man return, then saw him as he carried a chair around in front of her and set it down about five feet away from Gina's. He was middle-aged and fat, his face red with high blood pressure, his skin glistening with sweat. Drawing in air through her nose, Christina caught of whiff of body odor, and knew it had to be coming from him. She wanted to choke, but didn't dare let the reflex overpower her.

      Christina saw that fatty also brought some rope and a piece of white cloth. She tried to speak again as Karl marched her to the chair and forced her down onto it, keeping his hand firmly clamped over her mouth to prevent her calling out. The cleaner was still in the outer office, after all. As Karl held her in place, suppressing her attempts to rise, the fat man moved behind the chair and grabbed Christina's arms, pulling them round behind the chair where he coiled rope tightly around her wrists. Christina's body jolted as she felt a truly desperate desire to pee now that it was clear she would not be allowed to visit the loo.

      Once the fat man had finished binding her wrists, he appeared in front of her again and pulled her jacket and blouse open, exposing her bra-covered breasts just he had evidently done to Gina. "Just get on with it," Karl told him shortly. "We don't have all bloody day to piss about."

      "Just making the best of the situation," Fatty declared as he stood and gazed hungrily at the curve of Christina's breasts.

      "Finish tying her up so that I can let go of her."

      "Alright, alright."

      Fatty wrapped rope around Christina's body and arms, securing it just below her breasts. He then passed the ends over her left shoulder, looping it round the length stretched beneath her breasts, then feeding it up over her right shoulder where he tied it off on the chair back. Next he twisted rope around the tops of Christina's thighs, then a further length around her legs just above the knees, passing the ends between her thighs before tying them off. Finally, he knelt down and secured each ankle to a chair leg, forcing Christina to sit with her feet apart.

      At last, Fatty rose awkwardly to his feet and picked up the strip of cloth. He signaled Karl to take his hand away from the girl's mouth. As soon as her mouth was free, Christina began to speak, rushing the words out before Fatty could insert the gag. "Wait! I have to go to the loo! I'm bursting! You have to let me go! You have to! Please. Plee---."

      The gag was forced between her teeth and tied at the base of her neck, reducing her words to a choked, meaningless gabble. Christina grunted and shook the chair, lifting several of the feet an inch off the floor as she threw herself around. Amused by her antics, Fatty knelt down in front of her again. "There, there. No need to get so upset," he mocked. "Tell you what, just in case you can't hold your piss, I'll push your skirt up so that you won't make such a mess of it. How about that?"

      Christina stared venomously at him as he slid his rough hands up her legs, his skin snagging on her tight as he slowly raised the hem of her skirt to the tops of her thighs, puckering up the material against the rope he had secured just below her abdomen. "There, that's better," he added as he look greedily at her exposed thighs. "Very nice," he muttered appreciatively. "If we've got time later, I just might come back later and give the pair of you a good seeing to."

      Gina whimpered as she tipped back her head, her bouncing knees bearing testimony to the fact that she too was desperate to pee.

      "Leave them alone," Karl said as he headed for the door to the main office. "We need to get on with moving the stuff out before we get caught with it on the premises." Reaching the doorway, he stopped and looked back. "And next time Car wants to store his shit on my business premises, you can tell him from me that I'll kick his fucking teeth in."

      "Temper, temper," the fat man retorted as he followed Karl, glancing back at the two girls before letting them pass from his line of sight.

      Left unattended, Christina and Gina looked at one another, both girls squirming on their chairs as they both fought a terrible desire to pee. Even though it was painful to jolt her bladder, Christina began hopping her chair towards Gina's. If they sat back to back, she realized, they should be able to untie one another. She pushed with her feet, bouncing the chair a few inches at her time, each jolt ripping through her bulging bladder and almost causing her muscles to give way. If she managed to reach Gina before she was forced to piss in her panties, it would be a miracle.

      Seeing what her colleague was doing, Gina began hopping towards Christina, whining as she jolted her own overfilled bladder. She had been holding it for more than an hour, sitting there with ropes pinning her to the chair and keeping her from the loo. The ache between her hips had grown worse and worse as the time passed, and although she had tapped her heels loudly on the concrete floor to attract attention, neither Karl nor the fat man had come to her assistance. There were, it seemed, perfectly prepared to let her wet herself.

      The girls were less that two feet apart when the fat man re-entered the warehouse. As soon as he saw what they were doing, her lowered the box he was carrying to the floor and lumbered over to intercept them.

      "Naughty, naughty," he said as he took hold of Christina's chair and dragged it back to where he had originally placed it. After dragging Gina back to her starting point too, he stood between them and said, "Seem we can't leave you girls on your own for two minutes without you getting up to mischief. You know I'm going to have to punish you both for this, don't you?"

      Both girls moaned through their gags, and Christina looked towards the office doorway, willing Karl to return and stop this slimy meatball from messing around with them. But there was no sign of him, and Fatty was already leaning over Gina, one hand on her shoulder. He watched the girl's fidgeting thighs and grinned. "You really need to piss, don't you? Well, how about if I give you a hand with that."

      Gina tried to scream as he reached down and spread his pudgy hand over her abdomen, but the sound was so muffled by her gag that it didn't carry far, not far enough for Karl to hear if he was out there in the office. Gina shook her head, staring wide-eyed at the hand resting against her swollen abdomen, knowing what was about to happen.

      The fat man's hand pressed, his fingers digging into the Christina's abdomen. She twisted and tugged at her bonds, trying to lean forward, straining to slip her bound hands free so that she could stop him squeezing her bladder, but she couldn't do anything about it. His fingers tightened and loosened repeatedly, sending waves of pain through Gina's body as the pressure squashed her bladder. Her tired muscles couldn't hope to withstand this onslaught, and after less than ten seconds of this tortured, she started to piss like a racehorse.

      Pee streamed between her legs and poured onto the floor between her feet. Several rivulets forms at the backs of her knees and snaked down her calves and into her shoes. Gina's struggles subsided as relief washed over her; her legs became still and her shoulders sagged. As if emulating the tracks of pee on her tights, tears triggered by humiliation began streaming down her crimson face.

      Christina watched all this with an agonized expression, still struggling to control her throbbing bladder even though she knew this fat swine was about to do the same to her. At least, he would have done had Karl not put in an appearance then.

      "I've just sent the cleaner home," he was saying as he entered the warehouse, then stopped abruptly as he saw what the fat man still pressing on Gina's abdomen. "What the hell are you doing?"

      "These two were trying to move their chairs so they could untie each other. I'm just doling out a little punishment."

      "For Christ's sake, leave them alone," Karl retorted angrily. "Get out there and call Car, and find out where those idiots that are supposed to pick up the stuff have got to."

      "But what about her?" the fat man asked plaintively, clearly peeved at being robbed of the chance to make Christina wet herself.

      "I'll deal with her," Karl said. "Now move!"

      Christina watched as Karl advanced on her, unable to believe that he would squeeze her until she wet herself. Karl waited until the fat man was gone, then looked across at Gina. "I'm sorry, love. We've got to keep you on ice until all this is over, but torturing you isn't part of the game."

      Gina made a muffled sound through her gag and looked away, her face still crimson. Karl looked at the puddle of pee around the girl's feet and shook his head. Then he turned his attention back to Christina, taking in her quivering legs. "You need to take a leak as well, don't you?" he asked, the question rhetorical. Nevertheless, Christina nodded, albeit warily.

      With a sigh, Karl stooped down and began untying Christina's right ankle. She made an urgently whimpering sound through her gag, frantically trying not hold her pee, but her bladder was practically bursting. She didn't think she could hold on long enough for Karl to completely untie her and let her visit the loo.

      But Karl didn't untie her completely. He removed the rope from her left ankle and her thighs, the liberated her from the coil around her body. Then he seized her right arm and lifted her from the chair. Christina gasped and doubled over, starting to wet herself again. By crossing her left thigh in front of her right and squeezing with all her strength, she was just able to squeeze her sphincter shut again. She couldn't maintain control for long, however; the urge to release was truly immense. She had bought herself perhaps a minute's grace, no more.

      Karl dragged her big the arm, making her hobble while half doubled over towards the toilet. He opened the door, steered her inside and then maneuvered her backwards into one of the two cubicles. Christina danced frantically, raising one knee and then the other, scissor dancing as she battled on for the last few seconds before her body would force her to surrender and piss down her shaking legs. She looked pleadingly at Karl, waiting for him to free her hands so that she could raise her skirt.

      As if reading the thought, Karl said, "I'm not untying you any more. Either you let me help you, or you'll have to do it in your clothes."

      Christina screwed up her features, complaining through her gag, squirming her hips and bending her knees, right on the brink of soaking herself. She didn't want Karl touching her, but it was a lot better than having that fat, smelly bastard messing with her. She had to choose immediately - wet herself, or let Karl help her. She gasped again as pee started to trickle into her knickers yet again. She was out of time.

      Reluctantly, she met Karl's gaze and nodded once. Taking this as consent, he reached down, grabbed the hem of her skirt with both hands, and lifted it, dragging it past her hips and bunching it around her waist. Then he slipped the fingers of both hands inside the tops of her tights and knickers and tugged them down together.

      Piss was running down Christina's exposed thighs, and unable to stop it coming out any longer, she virtually fell backwards onto the toilet seat. She might have tumbled right off it onto the floor if Karl had not gripped her hips and steadied her.

      He remained there, squatting down with his hands resting on her hips, and her pee exploded into the toilet pan. It was so loud, like a river in flood, a thunderous roar that just seemed to go on forever. Christina tipped her head back and savored the enormous relief of being able to pee at last. She had no idea what Karl and his fat companion would do next, or what might happen when the lecherous Carmichael arrived, but for the moment at least, she could just enjoy the relief of an empty bladder.

      When she had finished, Karl helped her to stand and pulled up her knickers. Christina grimaced as the wet gusset came into contact with her skin, but it was still better than having a catastrophic accident in her clothes like poor Gina. Karl proceeded to pull her tights up and tug the hem of her skirt back into place. As he straightened up, he met Christina's troubled gaze, and said quietly, "Don't worry. I won't let them hurt you. I promise. Once this is all over and we're on our way to South America, I'll arrange things so that someone will find you. Okay?"

      Christina nodded, hoping that Karl was a man of his word. Even if he did keep his promise, however, she and Gina were likely to remain prisoners for days. How many more times would they be left tied up when they were desperate to pee? There seemed every likelihood that she would have to learn to hold on to a full bladder for extended periods of time if she didn't want to repeatedly wet her skirt and underwear. It meant she was going to get painful lessons in muscle control that she could really do without. But then, as Mick Jagger said: You can't always get what you want.