Police swoop

With thanks to dazD for the idea and various suggestions.

***

POLICE SWOOP

“Right, come on Robbie, let’s grab a cuppa in the canteen while we’ve still
got time,” said Police Constable Luke Shephard to his slightly younger
colleague PC Robert Carlton. “The sarge won’t have his act together for a
while yet, and they don’t even know where we’re headed yet. I’m parched. Milk,
no sugar for you isn’t it?” Robbie nodded and trotted behind his mate
out of the equipment room where they had kitted themselves out with the
requisite radio, baton and speedcuffs ready for the operation for which they
had just been briefed. They mounted the stairs to the canteen together
and Luke grabbed two large mugs ready to fill them from the huge tea urn
there.

Luke and Robert were junior members of the force and had each been in service
for a couple of years. In their mid twenties, both were part of the bright new
breed of up and coming officers, each with some basic experience of general
police work and both trying to make their mark by increasingly being involved
in more demanding roles as time went on. Today’s operation, a raid on a
gang suspected of stealing vehicles and exporting them to the European
continent, had just been outlined to them and the other constables and
sergeants at the beginning of their shifts by Chief Inspector Hugh Jenkins.
If successful it would involve the arrest of at least four suspects and
possibly five in a surprise swoop to be combined with catching them red-handed
with a stolen van which had been sighted in the St. Albans area. The
suspects were not expected to be armed, but a single surprise arrest of all
five in one single raid was crucial to avoid individual suspects being
alerted and covering their tracks. Luke and Robert were part of the team
of seven officers who would be performing the initial arrests at the target
location altogether.

Robert settled down on the bench next to Luke and accepted the steaming mug
of tea gratefully. He was glad to be working with his friend once again for
this operation: the adrenalin he got from the unexpected nature of their work
and the way they had to react on impulse to situations always gave Robert
a kick and was the reason why he had chosen to join the police force in the
first place, but the opportunity to work alongside a trusted colleague and
friend like Luke also lent a dependable, familiar angle to the job which
Robert also welcomed.

“Thanks mate, I need this,” said Robert as he took a mouthful of tea. In
actual fact he had already had a couple of cups of tea before leaving home
less than an hour earlier and was not really thirsty in the way Luke had
indicated that he was, but relaxing like this with Luke was a pleasant
diversion and helped steady the pre-action nerves which Robert felt and
which he knew all his colleagues did to some degree or other, however
experienced they were.

“Good to grab the opportunity for a cuppa whenever we can, I always think,”
replied Luke, smiling back. “You never know when your next one will be.”

“I guess this job will just be a question of making the arrests, bringing the
bodies back to the station and letting the top brass do the work of charging
them,” said Robert. “Then we see what exciting paper work they’ve got
lined up for us for the rest of the day,” he added cynically, draining his
tea and setting the empty mug down in front of him. Both guys had drunk up
quickly in anticipation of the expected call on their radios to assemble
for the swoop: with that imminent call to action this tea break would be cut
abruptly short.

“Maybe,” said Luke. “Ah, here cometh our esteemed colleagues!” Four PCs
and one sergeant, all on the same operation as Robert and Luke, were entering
the canteen.

“Hey, you two look busy,” said PC Brad Millington, a tall lad of around
thirty who had joined this force from another area during the time that
both Robert and Luke had been in service here and who had worked with both
of them frequently.

“Hi Brad, we just thought we’d grab the best of the char before it got
stewed,” replied Luke. “No sign of any action down there?” he asked Brad.

“I reckon they don’t yet even know where we’re going to swoop,” answered
Brad. “The chief said we might as well go and sit in the canteen for the
moment. Looks like you two used your anticipation on that one,” he added
with a trace of irony. Brad then spotted that the two mugs in front of his
seated colleagues were empty. “Hey, Pete, get two extra mugs for Luke and
Robbie!” he called out to one of the lads he had arrived with who was pouring
tea from the urn.

“Milk and two sugars for me, milk no sugar for Robbie!” called out Luke.
Robbie was about to protest since he felt somewhat awash, but the reply
“Coming up, gents!” from PC Pete Culshaw cut this off, and he subsequently
accepted his second large mug of tea in quick succession with a smile at
Pete.

As Robbie sipped the hot liquid and listened vaguely to the banter of his
colleagues who had joined him and Luke at their table, he felt an anticipatory
tingle of his nerves as he thought about what they had to do. The higher
ranking officers would be giving the order to move in, and at that point he
and his colleagues would charge into a building, grab and handcuff the
suspects, caution them with the standard phrases, and then put them into
the caged area of the van. Good teamwork would be vital: a slip-up from any
officer could result in failure of the entire operation. Robbie rubbed his
sweaty palms on the black serge trousers of his uniform, checked again that
he had all the required equipment with him, and moistened his dry mouth once
again with another sip of tea.

“You up for it again today, Robbie?” said Luke. “Ready for the swoop when
they call us into action?” He gave his friend a pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess,” replied Robert, smiling back.

“Drink up then, it’ll be all go at any moment!” said Luke referring to
Robert’s still half-full mug on the table. The others had drained theirs.

Robert lifted the mug to his lips and finished it. His stomach felt full.
His body trilled with the anticipation of the coming operation. Luke smiled
at him and added: “It’s nice to work with someone I feel I can rely on in the
heat of the moment.” Robert grinned broadly, flushed with pleasure and replied
“Same here, Luke. Same here!”

At this point all the radios on the officers’ lapels bleeped and all the PCs
looked simultaneously at the text message which had been broadcast. It read:
“Operation Violet: All personnel in unit 1 assemble by vehicle 1186 by
main doors. Backup units remain on standby.”

“That’s us, we’re off!” said Pete. He, Luke, Robert, Brad and the other three
officers in unit 1 jumped to their feet and hurried out of the canteen
and down the stairs. Vehicle 1186 was parked just outside. “Get in and
await further instructions!” ordered Sergeant Eamonn McKay, a thirty-seven
year old officer who was the most senior of the seven of them and would
be required to make any decisions in the absence of orders from higher
ranking officers during the operation.

The vehicle was a standard police minibus with an extra caged area in the
rear behind the ordinary seats which could be used to transport members of the
public who had been arrested. Robert hesitated just a split second after the
side door was opened for him to enter. His mind raced. Surely that wasn’t a
signal from his bladder that he’d just felt? A push in the back from someone
behind him interrupted this momentary thought and he clambered in, moving to
the back and settling into the seat on the left by the window. The others
climbed in after him, Luke taking the seat next to him. “Here we go then,
Action Man,” he murmured to Robert. “Another assignment. Aren’t we heroes?”
He grinned at Robert who smiled back slightly tensely.

In a few moments all seven uniformed colleagues were seated. Brad was the
designated driver and had taken his place behind the wheel. Sergeant McKay,
in the front seat next to Brad, spoke into his radio: “Operation Violet,
unit 1 is headed for target location in St. Albans.” This was acknowledged
by a voice on the Sergeant’s radio and Eamonn turned to Brad. “Proceed to
the M1 motorway, Constable. No siren, drive normally.” Brad started the
engine and the minibus pulled out of the police station and joined the
traffic.

Robert tried to relax in his seat. He did his best to ignore another twinge
which he felt from his bladder, telling himself that there was no decision
that he needed to make about going to the toilet, because going to the toilet
was no longer an option. They were on their way and within no time they would
be on location and arresting the suspects. There was a light hum of
conversation between several of his colleagues as the minibus made its way at
normal traffic speed through the junctions of the town, and Luke turned
towards him and started chatting as well. Robert tried to concentrate on
what Luke was saying about his holiday plans and expressed appropriate
approval and envy.

Inwardly he sighed to himself and wished he’d done the sensible thing back
at the station which was to use the opportunity afforded by the waiting
time to use the men’s room. The others had probably all done that, he
thought with a sinking feeling. “Yeah, the Algarve will be really great at
that time of year,” he answered Luke automatically, touching his stomach
gingerly as he felt all the tea he’d drunk collecting down there.

“So what about you, Robbie?” Luke was saying. “Are you a fan of sun, sea
and sand too? I bet you get a nice tan on you on the beach,” he added,
giving Robert’s knee a playful squeeze.

“Yeah, er well, I burn quite easily too,” said Robert. He felt, to his
increasing alarm, a serious sense of pressure in his bladder. How could it
be filling up this quickly? And what was he going to do if he really needed
to pee? He gulped at the thought and his mouth felt dry again despite the
sloshing fullness he could feel inside. How could he have been so stupid
as to drink down two large mugs of tea before this operation and not even
think to use the bathroom?

“Oh yeah, me too, but factor thirty suncream does wonders,” prattled Luke.
“You need that in Portugal. That, a pair of swimming trunks and sunglasses
and you’re all set up. Doesn’t that appeal to you too, Robbie?” Luke was
smiling happily in anticipation of his coming vacation.

Robbie looked back at Luke and made as if he was considering his reply. He
looked out of the window. The minibus had reached the M1 motorway a short time
earlier and they were now in the thick of the busy non-stop traffic as it
headed South on the congested highway towards London. They could reach
St. Albans within minutes if they really wanted to by turning on the siren and
blue emergency lights giving them priority over other traffic, but no call
had yet been received that the suspects were known to be in the target
building and Sergeant McKay was continuing to instruct Brad to bide his time.
The slow nature of their progress was not helping Robert to relax as he
sighed again and tried to ignore the now persistent signals he was getting
that he really needed a piss.

He swallowed again and looked back at his mate, nodding his head. “I guess
so. I’ve never been to that part of the world though, I don’t know if it
would appeal.” He rocked himself slightly back and forth, tried to get
comfortable again and told himself that he had good self control and could
hold his piss in as long as he had to. Still, if any opportunity should
present itself to pee  somewhere…  Robert’s mind raced as he wondered what
opportunity that could possibly be. You didn’t pee in the street or anything
when you were in uniform, at least not if you wanted to keep your job.
Robert had himself given on-the-spot fines to members of the public at times
during his career for doing just that. Police constables in their smart
white shirts and neat black trousers had to hold their pee until a proper
toilet was available and until a time when they weren’t in action.

So he would have to hold it until such an opportunity presented itself. That
was easy then: there was no decision to be made. He couldn’t do it now
because they were on the road. And he couldn’t do it when they arrived because
they would be arresting the vehicle thieves. So for the time being Robert
would be holding it in. No problem. Was it? “Oh fuck,” he thought, “I really
do have to pee.” He looked out of the window again, watched the queues of
traffic, knocked his legs back and forth for a moment and once more
attempted to relax in his seat. He realized he hadn’t listened to a word
Luke had just said, but he was wishing his friend would just shut up for a
bit since Robert had no appetite for conversation at the moment.

“Don’t you reckon, Robbie?” Luke was repeating, this time touching Robert’s
knee once again as he sensed Robert’s attention was wavering.

Robert jumped slightly at the touch and shifted position again. The pressure
was a steady throb in his nether regions. “You mean about the Algarve?”
he asked lamely, trying to cover for his inattention.

“No, you dozy git,” said Luke affectionately, “that was last week I was talking
about that. I just asked you if you think we’re going to have to wait
around somewhere because they’re not giving us leave to move in for the
arrests yet. Why are you so dopey? Are you nervous or something?”

“Bit nervous, yeah,” said Robert. “Do you think we’re stopping somewhere then?”
he added, looking at Luke.

“No, probably not, I was just speculating. Hey, you don’t need to be nervous
man. I’ll cover your back like you do for me too. We look out for each other,
right?” He grinned supportively at Robert.

At this point Sergeant McKay’s radio bleeped and all the occupants of the
minibus leaned to listen to the new intelligence. “Operation Violet unit 1
come in, please!”

“Unit 1 receiving you,” replied Eamonn McKay into his radio.

“Change of plan. Suspects sighted in Hemel Hempstead, believed to be heading
for train station. Proceed there at speed and prepare to move in and arrest.”

“Understood, heading for Hemel Hempstead,” replied the sergeant. “Will report
on arrival at train station, should be there in five minutes give or take.”

Eamonn cut the call off, Brad immediately switched on the vehicle sirens and
floored the gas pedal, and all the occupants of the minibus started checking
their equipment and generally preparing themselves to leap into action as
the minibus accelerated away past the other vehicles and took the next
exit from the motorway.

“Action stations, mate,” said Luke to Robert. “This is what it’s all about,
right?” he added, giving his friend a supportive wink.

Robert pressed his legs together, moved forwards slightly so that he was
sitting at the edge of his seat, and rocked back and forth as he summoned
up the willpower to ready himself for the task at hand. His bladder felt
swollen now and sitting still was getting harder to achieve, so he used the
motions of checking his baton and handcuffs as a cover for shifting his
position and knocking his knees together several times.

As they sped forward, through red lights and past long traffic queues with
everyone in their path melting away to let them through, Robert once again
told himself that he was a professional, he could wait the time it would take
to do this job and support his team of colleagues, and he would take care
of his bladder when there was an appropriate opportunity. With the
adrenalin caused by the action he could ride this, he told himself. “Just
keep alert, concentrate on the job at hand, do what you’re trained for,”
he ordered himself. He answered a subsequent high-pressure and persistent
call of nature from his bladder by grabbing the crotch of his black uniform
trousers and squeezing himself tightly, successfully fighting it back and
relegating it to the irrelevancy that it surely was. Another firm squeeze
of his dick followed for good measure, and then he turned to Luke. “Yep, time
to get that low life arrested, eh? We’re on! Look out for me won’t you, Luke?”

Luke grinned broadly at his friend Robbie who had seemed progressively
quiet and unresponsive up until then. This was more like it. “It’s a deal,
Robbie. We’ll make a good team as always,” he murmured and gave Robert a
friendly slap on his thigh. As he did so he noticed that his mate was
almost electrified in his apparent readiness for action, working his legs
back and forth as if he was ready to jump up and leave the minibus before
they had even arrived. “You okay, mate?” he added, wondering where all this
apparent hyperactivity from Robert was coming from.

“Yep, you too?” replied Robert in a slightly breathless voice. His motions
altered from their previous slightly chaotic nature to a steady vibrational
forwards and backwards motion as he sat on the edge of his seat. He was holding
it, he told himself, it would be fine. He just needed to get out of this
minibus and into action.

Meanwhile the minibus was entering the outskirts of the town and speeding
through the streets of shoppers. The Sergeant was talking into his radio
again: “Operation Violet: unit 1 has entered Hemel Hempstead, on course to
arrive at train station in two minutes. Are there instructions?”

All the officers leaned forward and listened. Robert squeezed his cock once
more through the thick uniform trousers as he told himself that this was the
last time he would do that before they had the suspects in custody. Then
he would bolt for the train station toilets, problem solved. “Stand by,
stand by,” came the reply. “Situation is unclear. Switch off the sirens and
do not proceed to station area until instructed to do so.”

“Understood, awaiting further instructions,” said Eamonn in his radio.
Brad switched off the lights and siren and brought the vehicle to a halt
at the side of the road. “Fine, we wait here,” said the sergeant. “Looks
like they’re not so sure after all where the blighters are at the moment.
Keep on your toes though men, first sign of life and we’ll be in there!”

Robert heaved a shaky sigh and fought to control himself as his swollen
bladder tried to push the piss out. Control was now possible only when he
strained constantly to keep the floodgates shut, and this was what he was
doing. “Help, what do I do now?” he was asking himself. Stopped at the side
of the road for an indeterminate time and trapped with his colleagues in
this minibus, his situation had now suddenly become critical.

Desperately Robert looked at Luke as he fought to stop the pee coming out.
He felt brimful and on the point of having something happen to him which
was just unthinkable in front of his unsuspecting friends and colleagues as
everyone awaited further developments. Seriously unthinkable when he was
on duty, in his uniform, and required to make some arrests in the immediate
future. He knew he must not wet his pants; but how could he avoid it now
when he was using every muscle continuously to stop himself doing just that?

Luke looked back questioningly. “Alright Robbie?” he asked, concerned when
he saw his friend’s expression. “What is it?”

Other colleagues had heard this question and turned round enquiringly to
look back at Luke and Robert. Unable to speak, Robert just shook his head
and waited till various head-turners, which included Pete and Eamonn the
sergeant, had shrugged their shoulders and turned back to face the front
and watch for events in the direction of the station.

Luke persisted, concerned. “Robbie, what’s the matter?” he asked, whispering
this time. Still Robert did not speak, but his bladder made the seriousness
of the situation perfectly clear at this point by forcing a high pressure jet
of pee out through his urethra and into his briefs. As Robert summoned his
strength again and clamped it off, holding his cock through the trousers as
he did so, his hand felt the wetness on the outside of the uniform trousers
as the pee spurt seeped through the crotch.

Luke looked down at his friend’s trousers and spotted the wetness as Luke’s
suspicion about what might be the problem received confirming evidence.
Oh crikey, thought Luke. Surely Robbie wasn’t pissing his pants here on the
seat of the minibus?

“Do you need a piss, Robbie?” he whispered as quietly as possible. No-one else
in the minibus was speaking as everyone waited tensely for their instructions,
and Luke felt it was necessary not to draw the others’ attention to this
particular problem.

Robert succumbed to the necessity of sharing this acutely embarrassing
information with Luke, grimaced, nodded his head at his friend, then sat
right forward in his seat and rammed his hands in his groin with Luke watching
him as he strained to stop another spurt escaping. It escaped anyway and
further wettened Robert’s trousers. Again he clamped it off.

“Robbie, can you hold it or do you need to pee now somehow?” asked Luke.
Luke’s mind was racing to somehow work out a solution to help his friend should
his answer be the latter.

Robert’s last hope in his own mind now was that his colleagues further
forward would open the side door of the vehicle a fraction so that he could
surreptitiously piss out onto the road through the gap. It was also clear
to him now that he did not even have time to talk to Luke about it. Luke
might just say he had to hold it, and Robert knew he could not hold it
any longer.

He spoke up in a quavery voice and addressed the others. “Guys, I have to
pee,” he spoke up. “Can you just open that side door a fraction?”

Luke, instantly understanding the emergency and spotting more wetness on the
crotch of Robert’s trousers as Robert stood up out of his seat, immediately
got up himself and moved out to let his mate out. Luke had never before seen
such a spectacle of an adult guy his own age evidently so desperate to
piss, and certainly never in a police officer colleague, but what he could
see made it patently obvious that Robbie was about to wet his pants and
action needed to be taken.

PC Alan Harrington, a young officer of about Luke and Robert’s age, was the
one sitting next to the side door. He looked up on hearing Robert’s
astonishing question and gaped as he spotted the colleague emerging from his
seat, fumbling with the fly of his trousers and trying to get past Luke
Shephard who had moved out as well. Uncertainly Alan started fumbling with
the catch of the door next to him. At the same time there was a snort of
amusement from Pete who was sitting next to him, and Brad the driver had
swung round and stared, emitting a questioning “huh?” as he took the situation
in.

“What are you doing? What do you mean you have to pee!?” said Sergeant McKay
in a tone of astonishment to Robert. “We’re being called in at any moment.
Sit down! Constable Harrington, leave that door shut.” Alan stopped
fumbling with the catch and stared at Robert. Everyone in the minibus was
now staring at him too. A squirt of hot piss blasted straight through Robert’s
underwear and caused more wetness on the uniform under the astonished
gaze of his colleagues.

“You wetting yourself, mate?” queried Pete.

“He is too,” said PC Mike Walton, an older officer in his fifties. “Anyone
got a bucket?” he added.

“Sit down, now!” shouted Eamonn the Sergeant to Robert. “We’re in action at
any moment!”

Robert was still rooted to the spot as he tried to fight the losing battle,
but Luke touched him on the waist and guided him back to his seat under
the watchful eyes of the other officers. Robert felt his sphincter muscle
give way. Slowly he sat back down in his seat as his scorching piss poured
out into his pants. The pee ran first down his legs then, when he sat down
and covered his face with one hand, continued to collect around his arse
and through the trousers onto the seat. Shortly afterwards, as the enormous
pressure changed to relief and release, the minibus was filled with the
sound of steady dripping and patter as the piss ran off the seat and onto the
floor.

“Oh Lord,” Alan was saying. “He’s gone in his trousers!”

“I don’t believe this!” said Brad the driver.

“Jesus Christ, he couldn’t hold it! He’s actually done it! He’s completely
wet his pants. It’s all going over the floor!!” This was from Pete.

Robert just sat there staring downwards, not looking at anyone as his piss
continued to splatter through his soaking black uniform trousers and onto the
floor of the minibus. Luke sat back down next to him, stricken. “Shut up,
Pete,” he responded to the last yelled comment. “It could happen to you
next time. Why don’t you all just turn round and mind your own business?” he
added to the others as the dripping noise from his friend’s trousers
continued unabated.

Sergeant McKay agreed with this last sentiment. “Yeah, shut up all of you,
leave the guy alone. Concentrate on the task at hand, we need to nail these
criminals.”

Reluctantly everyone turned their heads back, though the muttering and
sniggering amongst some of the officers continued. Gradually the noises
from the floor subsided as Robert’s bladder emptied.

After a short silence, Pete turned round in his seat again and piped up: “It’s
all round my shoes!”

Robert continued to stare abjectly downwards but Luke glared at Pete. Eamonn
snapped: “That’s enough Constab1e Culshaw, one more word about it and you
will be disciplined back at the station!” Pete hastily turned back and moved
his feet away from the stream which had flowed under his seat.

Luke touched Robert gently on the arm. “Robbie?” he whispered.

Robert looked up slowly. His eyes were blinking back tears as the enormity
of what had happened to him started to sink in. He looked pathetically at
his friend. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Look out for me when we’re in action, okay?” whispered Luke to him. “I’ll
need your support, mate.” He gazed at levelly at his best mate, his eyes
full of respect.

Robert nodded. “Course I will, Luke,” he whispered back. “Thanks for .. you
know.” He was referring to Luke’s support for him in this most embarrassing
of moments.

Everyone ignored the developing strong aroma of urine in the van during the
next few moments and no-one made any further comments, the Sergeant’s rebuke
to Pete having had its effect. The call on the radio came in a few minutes
later.

“Operation Violet, unit 1, five suspects are approaching railway station
in stolen green Mazda van. Arrests should be made when they are safely out of
the vehicle. Move in now but keep low profile until suspects can be taken and
avoid them using their vehicle to escape.”

Sergeant Eamonn McKay acknowledged, Brad drove off and everyone got ready
for the job they had been trained for. Robert’s trousers were clammy and
sticking to his legs, but he readied himself with the others. The adrenalin
which would normally be flowing now was absent though since his tension had
already peaked five minutes before when he could no longer hold his pee,
but nevertheless he prepared himself to follow instructions and move in
with his colleagues.

The five suspects were duly sighted as Brad drew up in front of the station.
When they spotted the police minibus right by them they attempted to scatter
in all directions, but with the Sergeant’s order “go, go, go!!” to his
officers, and with the advantage of surprise, Luke, Robert, Pete and the other
PCs rounded them up and handcuffed them. Robert’s now cold, sopping wet
trousers clung to his legs but he still sprinted the short distance to his
selected target and captured the man efficiently, slipping the cuffs over
his wrist and overpowering him while he read his charge the caution. Meanwhile
Luke had captured a second man single-handedly too, and the remaining three
were similarly rounded up by their colleagues.

Meanwhile a crowd of shoppers and rail travellers had stopped and were
staring at the scene. While Sergeant McKay was reporting the successful snatch
on the radio and the officers were pausing while they awaited further
developments, it became apparent that the attention of some members of the
crowd of onlookers was on Robert as he stood waiting, his clammy trousers
plastered onto his legs.

His prisoner had clearly noticed too. Having resigned himself to the capture
and stopped any further resistance, he had made a show of staring at the
trousers of the officer who was restraining him. Whether this in itself had
attracted the attention of some members of the public to Robert was unclear,
but the comments and laughter that were emanating from Robert’s vicinity
were unmistakable. Robert’s momentary inner triumph as he arrested his
charge was clouded by shame as various remarks and tittering reminded him
of his recent disaster and the sorry state he was in right now.

“That policeman’s wee-weed himself!” came a child’s voice provoking more
laughter as it drew still more people’s attention to Robert’s state. The
prisoner, cuffed to Robert, joined in with this by pulling a face and
nodding theatrically to confirm the child’s observation.

Much of the further amusement over Robert’s condition was confined to
a general buzz, but other remarks could be heard from fully grown adults.

“You’re supposed to do it in the toilet, Mr. Police officer!” came one shout,
and “Hey, officer, you could have waited!” was another.

This continued for a few minutes with Robert standing mortified and speechless.
The arrested suspect who was cuffed to him continued to smirk in reaction to
the crowd’s attention, and at one point could not resist making his own
comment to Robert: “You’ve really pissed yourself, haven’t you?” Robert’s
curt answer, reminding him that he was under arrest and pointing out that
he would do better not to make any personal remarks in this situation,
silenced him; but Robert’s humiliation was complete.

During the journey back to the police station some time later with the arrested
suspects in the back, the gang’s comments about the piss smell and Robert’s
wet trousers were finally silenced by Luke who turned round and
announced to the group that he would personally add the charge of insulting
a police officer to any person who made any further comment.

Towards the end of the journey Luke turned to Robert and spoke in a low voice:
“I had far too much tea before coming out. I’m gonna have to run for the toilet
as soon as we’re back at the station otherwise I’ll piss myself.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” said Robert.

Luke grimaced and nodded. “God, I’m dying to go. Will you cover for me while
I dash for it?

“Course I will,” said Robert. “I’ll get the others to wait before we turn
this lot in. You go and piss. And afterwards, will you cover for me while
I dash home to change my uniform?”

“Sure,” said Luke as the minibus rolled up outside their base and he braced
himself to run to the men’s room and release the pressure of pee which was
already threatening to squirt out. “You’re a fine colleague and a good mate,
Robbie.”

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Responses

  1. Cracking story with great description and growing tenseness. I’ve been that poor PC quite a few times!

  2. What a fantastic story – the build-up and the incident itself, Superb!

  3. great story, would you weite another one where he shits himself as well?

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