<strong>Christine Daniels</strong><br/><br/>"No, please, I... really need a pee." I wriggled a bit and tried to squirm away, but the hand on my shoulder was holding tight to my jacket. The woman had the most horrendously filthy hands and was leaving black oil marks all over the pink leather. But that was the least of my worries. Hell, the leather would wipe clean with a little swarfega.<br/><br/>For that matter, I imagined that washing my panties would not be too much of an issue, assuming they ever let me go, and the tight, pink leather pants would probably dry out in time, but I really, REALLY did not want to go down that road. I actually began to struggle, now. "Please, please let me go, I need a pee. You can stand outside and guard the door. I won't go anywhere... Pleeeeeeaaaassseee!" I was wailing now, tears running down my cheeks, the bottle of cider ignored. I would be happy to drink it after.