>>11162719Sara had drunk two cups of tea half an hour ago. By the time she got home, she’d be dying for a wee, and she could settle down- if that was the right word for wriggling about in agony, having a slow but inevitable accident in her knickers- for a good time. As she put her coat on to go home, she made sure she didn’t need to wee yet. She loved feeling desperate, but only at the right time, in the right place. And anyway, her knickers felt damp and slightly stiff between her legs, where she’d done little wees all day, and that felt good enough for now.
Sara put her ticket through the machine and stood on the escalator down to her platform. The rush hour was over, and it was quiet. A few people were coming up, a few people were going down on her escalator, and she relaxed and lapsed into thought. She was still lost in thought as she walked through the labyrinth of connecting tunnels, on her way to her platform. She didn’t notice the two guys until it was too late. With a gasp of shock, she was suddenly aware of a man standing in front of her. Except for the echo of her gasp, all was silent. She looked round, about to scream or call for help. Her stomach churned as she saw the second guy, standing silently behind her. Sara realised she was in big trouble. Her legs began to tremble, and her heart suddenly started to beat a thousand times a minute. What did these guys want? She turned unsteadily back to the guy facing her. She felt a cold sensation in her tummy, a sort of spreading numbness and panic. She suddenly realised she needed to go to the toilet very badly. Very badly indeed. But not because she needed a wee. It dawned on Sara that she was going to do a poo in her pants.
