And he was doing it again.

He had tormented my bladder to the point where I could take it no more, and a small jet of pee had, in fact, already escaped. But just when he could have taken responsibility from me by making me go all the way he had stopped, and now I was panic stricken in the tent, naked and desperate to relieve myself.

"I guess you'd better get to the toilet," he had said. But how could I? I would never make it, I knew it. My bladder was aching, a permanent, heavy, thudding pain which was all embracing, with spasmodic waves of intense pressure as my muscles cramped. Sobbing, I reached for a tee shirt and swung it over my head. I grabbed a pair of shorts and tried to sidle into them without parting my legs, knowing that if I did I would fatally release my muscles and lose control.

"Master, I'll never make it."

"You'd better try. It'll be embarrassing wetting yourself in front of a whole campsite. Five thousand people out there, Harriet. D'you want them all to see you wet yourself?"

I was too distressed to reply. Whimpering, I pulled at the tent zip and poked my head out of the entrance. It was hot and bright, and I screwed my eyes shut in reaction against the unaccustomed light. I scrabbled out of the tent and tried to stand, but a wave of cramps gripped my stomach and I bent double in pain. Looking around, I could see people watching me quizzically, but I was too agitated to care. The toilet block was about a hundred yards away, but the way was littered with myriad tents, all pitched in ramshackle order, an anarchic, higgledy-piggledy mess of canvas and rope through which it was difficult to discern a logical route. I screamed, my hands balled into fists of desperation, and crouched to let the cramp pass, clenching my muscles as tightly as I could. Finally, the pain eased and I stood gingerly, then began to run.

It was impossible to move fast because of the sprawl of tents, but it was the treacherous tangle of guy ropes which made my progress particularly difficult. They were everywhere, spread like some crazed three dimensional geometric design, and for each one I had to stop and step over it. The combination of the constant stopping and the action of raising my feet made it increasingly hard to control my bladder, and I was convinved there was no way I could make it to the toilets.

Then disaster struck as I failed to spot a guy rope and ran into it. The tent to which it was attached shook violently and I stumbled forward. Instantly a shooting pain burst through my bladder and I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. Aghast, I felt a spurt of pee fight free and as I struggled to regain my feet I clenched my muscles as tightly as possible. I was now the centre of attention, my attempt to demolish the tent alerting everyone around. I could feel the pee running down my thigh and I knew there would be a damp patch on my shorts. My face reddened and I tried to continue on my way to the toilets, with the curious eyes of everyone around burning into me.

I tried to control my breathing, using that as a way to concentrate my mind. "No, no, no, no, no," I chanted under my breath as I picked my way through the tents. "I'm going to make it, I'm going to make it." I was through the main bulk of the tents now and had only a couple of stragglers to negotiate before I reached the toilets. I began to think I might, indeed, make it and dared to look up from my feet towards my goal.

And my heart sank.

I stopped and stared. In my dismay, I lost control of myself and a further, longer spurt of pee escaped, trickling down my leg complicitly, but I was past caring.

Because there in front of me was a queue of around fifteen women, waiting to use the toilets.

In my panic I had overlooked the fact that it was early in the morning, and until around 10am there is always a constant queue of people waiting to use the toilets. Before me I saw my doom, the gaggle of women and girls who stood between me and salvation, who were about to bring about my total humiliation.

"No," I screamed. "Please no." I looked around, I'm not sure what for, and tried to calculate what to do next. I joined the end of the queue, but I knew there was no point, as I could never last until it was my turn. A vicious cramp swept through me, doubling me up in pain, and I crossed my legs in desperation. Even so, another spurt dribbled down my leg, and as I crouched desperately I saw the lazy rivulets running down my thigh glisten in the morning sun. "I can't," I wailed.

The people in the queue were watching me and I knew that they knew, but there was nothing I could do. The toilet block was situated next to the men's, the queue for which was also observing me with interest, and behind it was a flimsy, temporary fence. Beyond it was a picnic area and the internet café tent. I now had no option. I ran round the side of the block and squeezed my way past the generator, hoping to be able to get between the back of the toilets and the wooden fence, where I would at least be partially concealed. Immediately, I realised there was no way past the fence and with resignation I could feel a steady stream of pee escaping from me. Yanking down my shorts, I squatted and released my muscles. Instantly a rush of pee flooded out of me, creating a deafening roar as it cascaded onto the grass. I didn't dare look around, but I knew that I was in open view: the queues for both women's and men's toilets were directly behind me, and anyone in the picnic area or the internet café would have an uninterrupted view too. I hung my head as I realised what I was doing, and the intense relief of emptying my bladder was tempered by the humiliation of the knowledge that I had half wet myself and I was being observed by so many people. Finally, the stream trickled to a stop and I stood to rearrange my clothing. My shorts had a huge damp patch spreading up to my arse, incontrovertible proof of what had happened and I realised that however humiliating the last two minutes had been, the worst was yet to come.

I had to make my way past everyone and back to my tent. And everyone, of course, knew what had just happened. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and turned towards the watching queue...