Chapter 17: Sunday, Match of the Day

By Paul Tester

When Susan met the motor-cycle gang in the pub on Saturday night, she 


had two objectives, to find someone she could ride with on the Sunday 


'blast,' and to find some way of challenging Jan to a holding 


contest.  The first was easy, plenty of single men were willing to 


give her a ride in the hope of being repaid later, so mindful of the 


possibility of a contest with Jan, she chose one with  a moderately 


comfortable pillion.  The second was almost as easy to do; getting 


Jan alone she casually mentioned "No contest tonight then?"


"Any time, any place, if you think you are up to it kid," replied 


Jan arrogantly, "though you won't enjoy your drink if you're hopping 


around, nearly pissing yourself."


'Nor would you' thought Susan, then aloud she went on "Maybe tonight 


isn't a good time, but if you are riding tomorrow, then we could be 


prepared and do it properly."  


"Done," said Jan, still confident that she would not have too much 


trouble putting Susan in her place.  'Stuck-up bitch,' she thought, 


'your posh voice won't help you wait any longer, you'll be a laughing 


stock when you piss yourself.'


Susan couldn't believe it had been so easy.  She had a plan, which, 


with any luck would have Jan frantic, maybe even wetting herself.


"You remember where I live?" she asked Jan, "Come round about 


eleven tomorrow morning, there won't be anyone else at home, and we 


can work out the details and start then."


Susan was taking the contest seriously, so despite a mild hang-over 


the next morning she restricted herself to one small cup of coffee at 


breakfast, then made her preparations for the contest.  Jan arrive 


ten minutes late, also hung-over, and Susan led her through the house 


to the kitchen, stopping by the down-stairs loo.


"Last chance for a pee." Then, as Jan hesitated, she went in first, 


trying to squeeze every drop from her bladder.  That had given Jan a 


minute or two's start, though Susan, wondering if it would be 


significant later, and if Jan had done it deliberately.  Sitting in 


the kitchen she poured two mugs of coffee, then put large bottles of 


drinking water on the table.  


"Drink the water, and then we'll have another mug of coffee before we 


go down the pub.  That should be enough to fill us up without having 


to drink too much to be able to ride."


Jan didn't hesitate, she drank one bottle of water almost straight 


down, then motioned Susan to do the same, then sipped her coffee.


"You've done this before, haven't you?" she asked.


"We hold waiting contests at my school," confided Susan.  "Not a 


lot else you can do at an all girls school, and it's character 


building, learning to endure a bursting bladder without showing it."


An hour later, as they were about to leave for the pub, Susan 


revealed the next part of her plan.  She produced two small padlocks, 


gave one to Jan and showed her how she was to thread it through her 


belt and the top fastening and zip of her skin-tight jeans so it was 


impossible to take them off until the padlock was opened.  Susan did 


the same with her jeans, which were equally tight, then handed her 


key to Jan, taking Jan's in return.


"Now," she said, "we can't cheat.  When you need to pee, you have 


to ask me to unlock you, then as loser, you have to give me my key 


back, OK."


"OK," replied Jan, "except that it might be you who wants to go 


first, and I just might decide to make you try a bit harder, wait a 


bit longer, like until you start pissing yourself."


Susan had half expected something like that from Jan, in fact she had 


thought of doing it herself, so she just shrugged, "That can work 


both ways, I'll remember that when you're begging for the key."


Then, deciding that she really wanted to fill their bladders, 


suggested another glass of water each before they left.  Jan 


hesitated enough to show she was worried about how much she was 


drinking, but she knew she could not refuse any challenge from Susan 


without losing the contest.


With the amount they had already drunk, two pints in the pub were all 


that either of the girls dared drink, both for the sake of their 


bladders and to keep Jan, who was riding her own bike, just about 


within the alcohol limit.  When they left the pub, Susan was already 


wanting to pee, her bladder already feeling heavy and swollen, and 


this got worse when she got on her bike.  It was, she thought 


ruefully, just about the worst position you could get in to when you 


were bursting.  Legs apart, leaning forward so that her jeans were 


pulled tighter, if that was possible, across her bladder, and the new 


fashion of lower waist-lines seemed to have been designed to put 


maximum pressure right on her bladder.  No sensible girl would leave 


the pub wanting to pee as much as she did, and with most of two pints 


of beer still to pass through her, she was in for a really desperate 


time.  Her only consolation was the though that Jan was going to be 


suffering the same agonies, perhaps, she hoped, worse, as her bike 


looked even more cramped than Doug's pillion.


Half an hour later Susan was becoming desperate, her bladder 


throbbing against her jeans, and feeling every bump they went over.  


She was enjoying the exhilaration of riding a fast bike along 


twisting country roads, and she tried to concentrate on this and not 


think about the rising pressure in her bladder.  The combination of 


beer and all the water she had drunk earlier seemed to be 


particularly potent, and her need to pee was increasing almost by the 


minute.  If her body didn't slow down, or Doug speed up, she might 


not be able to hold out until the first stop.  She dismissed this 


thought instantly;  she just had to wait, asking Doug to stop and let 


her pee behind the hedge was unthinkable, even if she could manage to 


stop Jan and get the key to her jeans.  She was, she told herself 


firmly, an All Day Girl, and All Day Girls could hold their pee for 


as long as they had to.  She also tried to console herself with the 


thought that Jan would be just as desperate.


They were riding through a series of open sweeping bends which Susan 


remembered meant they were about fifteen minutes from their usual 


stopping point.  She really was desperate for a pee now, her bladder 


bursting against her tight jeans, beginning to really hurt, and it 


was taking a conscious effort to hold back her pee.  She was going to 


have to pee when they stopped, she could not possible risk another 


hour's ride with her bladder still filling so fast.  Jan would have 


to pee as well, she would be just as bad, and if she went as soon as 


they stopped then Susan might still win by hanging on until they were 


about to leave.  While she was thinking this, Jan blasted past to the 


front of the group, leaning low over the tank of her bike.


'Bet she's frantic, hurrying to the caff where we stop, so at least 


she can cross her legs even if she can't pee until I get there,' 


thought Susan.  Convincing herself that Jan was worse than her made 


it easier to hold her own pee.  Doug slowed down, falling to the back 


of the group, mouthing something about Police over his shoulder to 


Susan.  


As they came over the top of a hill she saw two police cars parked in 


a lay-by ahead, and Jan, the leading rider, had been stopped.  The 


others rode by, careful to keep within the speed limit, then all 


stopped round the next corner.


'I don't need this delay,' though Susan, though at least she could 


get off the bike and stand up, legs crossed, which took a lot of the 


strain off her bladder.


"The stupid cow," said Doug, " she ought to have more sense than to 


go blasting ahead there."


"Sudden rush of blood, down comes the red mist, and now she is really 


in the shit," one of the other bikers joined in.


Susan though that it was more likely a rush of pee to the bladder, or 


even, she hoped, out of the bladder, that had caused Jan to speed, 


then asked "Will she really get done?  She can't have been much over 


the speed limit, surely?"


"It's not speeding," Doug told her, "she hasn't got a licence, she 


was banned last summer.  If they check, she is really in trouble."


They had walked back until they could see what was happening in the 


lay-by.  Jan was standing by the police car, legs crossed, Susan 


noted, while one policeman was talking on the radio, almost certainly 


checking on Jan's licence and details.  He appeared to get some 


answer, as he then confronted Jan, and after some discussion, 


motioned her to get into the back of his car.


The real horror of what was happening suddenly struck Susan.  


Standing up, legs tightly crossed, hands in her pockets, pulling up 


her jeans, she wasn't as frantic as she had been riding, but she was 


desperate and her bladder was still filling, and she was going to 


have to pee soon.  But she could not pee, unless she wet herself, 


until she got the key from Jan, nor could Jan, who must be at least 


as desperate, pee until her jeans were unlocked.  Now Jan was being 


arrested and taken to some police station.  She had to think quickly, 


and find some way of getting to her.


"What happens to Jan's bike?" she asked, "if she's going off in 


their car, should I offer to ride it back to Jan's place for her."


"I doubt if the police will care, but I'll take you over there and 


you can ask them if you want," replied Doug.


As Doug had predicted, the police didn't care what happened to Jan's 


bike, and once they were satisfied that Susan had a licence they told 


her where they were taking Jan and suggested she go there and wait 


until she was released and then take her home.  The disaster was that 


the keys were in the bike, so Susan could not get to Jan and exchange 


padlock keys, which they both desperately wanted to do.  Even the 


short ride down to the lay-by had been agony after the relative 


comfort of standing with legs crossed, and Susan had been beginning 


to look forward to a pee behind the hedge as soon as the police had 


gone.  One look at Jan's tense, anxious, face told Susan that she was 


just as desperate to pee, and neither of them knew when they were 


going to be able to go.  As the police car drove off, Susan took a 


deep breath and braced herself to have to hold her pee for a long 


time.  She had wanted a contest, to push Jan to her limit, and that 


was certainly going to happen.  


Riding Jan's bike was even worse for Susan's bladder than being on 


Doug's pillion.  Her legs were forced wide apart by the racing seat, 


and she had to lean forward low to reach the handlebars, so not only 


were her jeans pulled tight across her bladder, but the tank was 


pressing on it.  Just sitting there was bad enough, but on the move 


every bump in the road knocked the tank harder into her bladder, just 


about the worse torture that could have been devised.  Within a mile 


Susan was going frantic, gritting her teeth with the effort it was 


taking to hold her pee back, shuddering every time her bladder was 


jolted and she nearly lost control.  Partly she wanted to ride like a 


lunatic, because that would get her to the police station quicker, 


and end her agony, but doing that not only risked getting stopped for 


speeding, but gave her swollen bladder a worse beating from the bumpy 


road.  The best option she found was to ride slower, taking all her 


weight on her wrists and propping herself up, so her bladder was away 


from the tank on all but the worst bumps.  She also convinced herself 


that her jeans were not pressing so hard on her bladder, but it might 


have been that it was such an uncomfortable riding position that it 


was some distraction from her need to pee.


The first traffic light she had to stop at she pressed one hand 


between her legs, not caring if anyone could see her, because she had 


so close to losing control that anything was better than peeing in 


her jeans.  After that she was holding her crutch at every stop, 


feeling that every second she could help her struggling sphincter was 


a second longer she could wait.  Once, racked by a sudden spasm of 


desperation, she even tried to hold herself as she rode, only just 


avoiding a double accident as she almost lost control of both bike 


and bladder.


At last she reached the police station, and leaving Jan's bike in a 


car park opposite she had to lean against the wall, legs plaited, 


holding her crutch with both hands, to get her bladder under enough 


control to be able to walk normally across the road.  She noted that 


there was a public loo at the back of the car park, and that was 


where she would be going just the second she got her key off Jan.  


Clenching her bladder shut as hard as she could, using every ounce of 


her All Day Girl control, she made it to the counter in the police 


station, though her 'normal' walk looked as if she was wearing six 


inch heels and not trainers, and, using her best Elmdene 'posh' 


voice, told the police why she was there.  


He shrugged, "She'll be some time yet, that young lady is in real 


trouble.  She's lucky to have a friend like you to collect her.  


Serve her right if she had to walk home."


Making a huge effort, Susan was just able to avoid wincing with 


despair at this, because she had been so certain that Jan would be 


waiting for her and within seconds they would have exchanged keys and 


be in the loo, relief at last.  


"You can sit over there and wait," continued the desk sergeant, 


indicating a row of plastic chairs, "I'll make sure they know you're 


here so she doesn't go out the back way and miss you."


Susan mutter her thanks through clenched teeth as she struggled to 


come to term with having to wait longer.  Her bladder had begun to 


anticipate the pee, and she was so close to losing control she was 


shaking with the effort she was making.  As soon as she sat down she 


tried to fold her leg under her and push her heel into her crutch, 


but she had never been any good at this, her legs were the wrong 


length so her heel didn't press where she needed it to.  Today was no 


different, and however she wriggled about it really wasn't helping 


her at all.  In fact it was making it worse, if that was possible, 


both making her jeans tighter across her agonised bladder and likely 


to draw the sergeant's attention to her.  She gave up and settled for 


legs twisted tightly together, so tightly that it looked most 


unnatural, but in her present state she dare not do anything less.  


Still struggling on the brink of losing it, she sat on her hands, 


first gripping the backs of her thighs, then pushing her fingers up 


to try and hold her crutch from below.  If only there was a proper 


waiting (how appropriate, she thought,) room, where she could sit in 


private and hold herself properly.  Try as much as she could, it was 


difficult to hide that she was frantic to pee, particularly as the 


sergeant seemed to have nothing better to do than watch her.


Susan sat leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, trying to reduce 


the pressure form her jeans on her bladder as much as possible, which 


was not much.  Her jeans were tight to start with, and now her 


bladder was bulging with the volume of pee she was holding, the 


pressure there was agonising.  If only she could undo the zip it 


would be better, easier to wait, but locked in she just had to grit 


her teeth and tell herself that she had to hang on.  She was an All 


Day Girl, she kept reminding herself, taking part in a serious 


holding contest, and she HAD to make herself wait, hold in her pee, 


until Jan was released and they swapped keys.  She closed her eyes 


and tried to concentrate on anything except her desperation, trying 


to convince herself that it would not get any worse and she could 


manage to hold for as long as she had to.


Her reverie was interrupted a young policeman bringing her a cup of 


tea.  She struggled to compose herself, sit more naturally, smile and 


thank him.  She assumed they meant well, were trying to be friendly, 


but the last thing she wanted was more liquid heading for her 


bladder.  What if it was half an hour before Jan was released?  She 


might have been able to wait that long before, but with the tea 


trickling through her, how could her bladder cope.  Actually she was 


dying to drink a cup of tea, it was when it reached her bladder she 


was dreading.  OK, she thought, public relations says I have to drink 


this, so I will.  My bladder is just going to have to stretch a bit 


more;  I'm a big girl now, an All Day Girl, and I am not going to wet 


my pants in public, however much I want to go.


How was Jan doing, she wondered.  Wanting to go just as badly, 


undoubtedly, but was she still holding on?  She had had the advantage 


of twenty minutes in the police car, legs crossed, while Susan had 


been suffering on her bike, which she hadn't recovered from yet.  


Maybe the police had breathalysed her and then wanted a pee sample?  


She would have had to cut her jeans open to give that, but at least 


she would have been able to pee.  Surely she would not have given way 


and wet herself?  Well, perhaps, every bladder had its limit, and the 


time would come for both of them when they could not wait any longer.  


It would be like Jan to let go and then claim police harassment and 


bullying, that fear had made her wet herself, and start demanding 


compensation.  She did not imagine they would have given her tea, 


but, there again, someone might have realised that both of them were 


bursting (and some!) and be trying to make their plight worse.


There was nothing to divert Susan's thoughts away from her agonised, 


bursting bladder, or to make the time pass quicker.  She just had to 


sit there, legs crossed so tightly, trying discretely to hold her 


crutch from underneath, watched by the sergeant and his assistants, 


telling herself she had to wait, wait…hold her pee until her bladder 


split open.  No way was she ever going to let it out the normal way 


until she was on the loo.  She was in a holding contest, and she was 


going to win.  Already she was far, far, worse than when she had 


given up in the Champion Bladder contest, but having seen how Pauline 


and others had hung on, she was ashamed to have given up so easily.  


This was a chance to make amends, to show that she could hold out for 


ever, a true All Day Girl, and also beat Jan.  Somehow half an hour 


passed and she was still holding on, but she definitely wanted to go 


more.  Not only was her bladder hurting more, in fact it was agony, 


but the need to pee was even more urgent, taking more effort to hold 


back, and with the tea reaching her bladder it was only going to get 


worse still.  Had she got the strength to hold it when it got worse?  


If it came to it, she would have to hold her crutch properly, from 


the front, even if it was obvious it would be better than sitting 


there and wetting herself.


She glanced down at her bladder area;  there was now a most definite 


swelling there, something she hadn't though possible with her jeans 


skin-tight when she was empty.  She gently felt it.  Even that light 


pressure from her fingers made her wince and want to pee more.  Her 


abdomen was absolutely rock hard, carved out of granite, so hard she 


could hardly believe it.  The pressure in her bladder must be 


enormous, no wonder it hurt so much, she wanted to pee so urgently.  


How much longer could she possibly last?  Would she simply give way 


and start wetting herself, or could she keep her sphincter shut until 


something awful happened, like her bladder exploded?  The questions 


were never answered, because at that moment two police brought Jan 


into the waiting area and told her she was free to go, and that she 


would get her summons through the post in due course.


One look at Jan, the way she was walking, the expression on her face, 


told Susan that she hadn't been to the loo, but miraculously her 


jeans were still dry.  With a huge effort of willpower, she clenched 


her bladder muscles tight shut, got to her feet, and walked to meet 


her.  There was no emotional hugs of greeting, just two girls walking 


toward the door was fast as their distended bladders would allow them 


to, both seeming to suffer from the same disability that made them 


take short steps with stiff legs and clenched fists.


As they both turned sideways to shuffle down the steps to street 


level, Jan was the first to speak.  


"Thank God you're here.  The key! Give me the key quickly, I'm going 


to die if I don't piss in the next five seconds."


"There's a loo in the car park across the road," replied Susan, "we 


can go there.  You'll only get into more trouble if you squat in the 


gutter here."


Jan had both hands jammed between her legs as they waited to cross 


the road, then seeing a break in the traffic she was off like an 


Olympic sprinter, still holding her crutch with one hand.  Also 


holding herself, Susan followed as fast as she could manage to run, 


catching up with Jan in the car park, where she was doubled over, 


legs in a knot, holding her crutch with both hands.


"I can't hold it any longer!  It's so bad I'm going to piss myself, I 


dare not move or I'll do it in my pants," she cried.


"Come on!" said Susan, carrying on towards the ladies, forcing Jan 


to follow, "we're nearly there, just hang on a few more seconds."


Both pressing one hand between their legs as hard as they could, the 


two girls made it to the loos at a fast hobble, Jan pushing ahead 


down the path to the ladies entrance at the back.  It was shut.  Jan 


almost collapsed against the door, both hands pressing into her 


crutch with all her strength.


"I want to piss!  I want to piss so much, give me the key before I 


burst," she said, "Help me, please, I can't let go or I'll start 


doing it."


Since Susan dared not let go of her crutch either, it was a comic 


pantomime with both girls holding their crutch with one hand tried to 


unlock Jan's jeans between them, Jan holding the padlock and Susan 


trying to keep steady and push the key in.  Eventually it was open 


and the zip free.  In one lightening movement Jan had her zip opened 


and was dragging jeans and knickers down to her knees and squatting 


down to pee.  Susan had a perfect view, standing to one side, and she 


replayed the scene in her mind many times, both for herself and to 


tell the other All Day Girls.  


Jan could not wait until she was squatting, but the instant her 


knickers were down and her legs just starting to bend her pee came 


blasting out.  Susan had never seen anyone pee like it before, a jet 


of pee that seemed at least an inch across, with such force that she 


expected to see it make a hole in the path.  'Turn a bath-tap full 


on, that's how big her stream was,' she told the other girls, 'and 


the pressure! I've never seen or heard anything like it.  Caroline 


and Geraldine do little dribbles by comparison."


Because Susan was holding her crutch with both hands, she couldn't 


see her watch to time Jan, but instead counted 'one-and,  two-and,…' 


until she reached 40, when the torrent suddenly died away, then after 


a couple more short blasts, Jan was finished before Susan had counted 


to 50.


Jan stood up slowly, pulled up her jeans, leaving the zip undone as 


she put both hands across her bladder to demonstrate how much it was 


still hurting her.


"I have never, ever, wanted to pee so badly in all my life.  I don't 


know how I managed to hold out so long, I though I was going to die 


in that interview room, they went on and on at me and I was so 


desperate I could hardly speak to reply.  If they had kept me there 


another five minutes I would have flooded their chair, I was just 


about at my limit.  I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't 


been able to sit on my heel all the time."


With amazing composure, for she was an All Day Girl after all, Susan 


quietly said 


"Jan, the key to my jeans please, I'd like to pee now you've 


finished."


"What if I don't give it to you?" asked Jan, smiling evilly. 


Susan shrugged, "I'll get a taxi home, then cut myself out and pee.  


I'm a big girl now, I can hold my pee if I have to."  With great 


bravado she took her hands away from her crutch, though she had to 


keep her legs crossed, and began to call a taxi on her mobile phone.


"Only joking," said Jan as she handed over the key, noting with some 


satisfaction that Susan's hands were shaking as she undid the 


padlock.


"At last!  Oh the relief," Susan muttered under her breath as she 


squatted down and let her pee come pouring out.  Nothing like Jan's 


great stream, but the pressure for the first ten seconds was more 


than she had ever done, and then she just went on and on, counting to 


over 200 before she finished.  She looked at the huge puddle their 


combined pee had produced.  If only she could have measured the 


volume, both of them would surely have broken the All Day Girl 


record. 


"I thought you were never going to stop," said Jan as Susan pulled 


her jeans up, "You can certainly hold your pee, probably better than 


anyone else I have ever known.  I guess we can call this a draw."


"No way!  I held on longer than you, and could have waited even 


longer if you had said. Also they gave me a cup of tea at the nick," 


replied Susan, "that didn't help much, as you can imagine."


Seeing that Jan wasn't going to accept this, Susan continued "Open 


your legs wide, take your hands away…  I thought so, I noticed that 


while I was squatting down."


'That' was a wet spot, hardly an inch across, showing clearly on the 


faded denim between Jan's legs.  Jan glared at her, then demanded 


that Susan submit to a similar examination before grudgingly 


admitting that she had 'lost it' when she stopped holding herself to 


pull her jeans down, and conceding, with bad grace, that Susan had 


indeed held out longer that she had.


"A re-match?" asked Susan, "a fight to the death, in public and 


both locked in until one of us really wets ourselves?"  Even as she 


issued the challenge, Susan wondered if she really wanted to suffer 


this, or worse, again.  Jan must have felt the same, or at least 


wasn't confident that she would win, because she shook her head.


"We would probably both end up in hospital with burst bladders.  I'm 


hurting so much even now I think I must have strained something 


today.  We've both got monster bladders, but you're bigger than me, 


so you would have room to hold more pee."


Susan knew that this theory about body size had been disproved by the 


capacities of the All Day Girls, but didn't bother to argue.  She 


knew she had beaten Jan in a fantastic contest, and had taken herself 


to a new limit to do it.  This would be something to tell the other 


girls when the new term started.





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