The Day the Police came to my House...

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Lee
Can't stay away...
Posts: 570
Joined: 18 Sep 2016, 16:05

The Day the Police came to my House...

Post by Lee »

The knock at the door was what I’d been expecting – a scheduled visit from the police to take a statement about the series of events that had led to some unpleasant vandalism near my workplace but it had been agreed that the statement would be better taken at my own house. I knew it was likely to be a fairly lengthy interview as the events had been numerous and so I took the whole day off work which was just as well as the officers didn’t arrive until about 11.30am. I had just boiled the kettle when the knock came and I opened the door to find two young uniformed police constables standing there. They politely introduced themselves and stepped inside and before I could usher them into the lounge, without even being asked, both officers bent down and began to unlace and remove their shoes. I was impressed!!

They came into the lounge and sat down – both were in their twenties although one looked to be late twenties and the other was no more than about 21/22. I briefly left them preparing their paperwork and I went into the kitchen to bring in the mugs of tea that I had just prepared and I smiled to myself as I saw the two pairs of black shoes neatly nestling side-by-side on the door-mat. Meticulous as well as polite! They were two pairs of plain lace-up shoes rather than boots, not especially highly-polished and I could see that one pair had the laces dangling over the sides of the shoes whilst the other pair were still tightly laced and had been taken off without undoing the laces.

When I walked back in with the tray, the older of the two smiled appreciatively and said welcomingly that they hadn't had their mid-morning break yet, but the younger one initially looked a bit wide-eyed and flustered and seemed a little reluctant as I handed him the large mug which he grasped with both hands to avoid spilling the full-to-the-brim cup. As I walked back out with the empty tray I stopped briefly in the hall just outside the slightly ajar second door to the lounge and as I glanced in I heard the older one whisper, “Give it a few minutes at least, eh? You can’t ask straight away, drink your tea and wait awhile”.

We started dealing with the events of the previous week and I had a huge amount to say, chattering away as the younger copper scribbled away madly and the older one made more brief notes. Before I knew it we had been going for a good thirty minutes and I could see that the young lad was fidgeting about a bit as he sat there, resting his paperwork on a file on his lap.

“Do you want to sit at the table?” I asked, “I should have asked that earlier”.

He looked at me in a bit of a startled way and said “Eh?”

“I just thought you looked a bit uncomfortable, I wondered if you wanted to sit somewhere else.”

He glanced a bit awkwardly at his mate, then looked back at me and said, “Erm, well, actually...I wouldn’t mind...” but before he could say anything else, the phone rang.

“Oh excuse me” I said and jumped up to answer it.

It was a call I had been waiting for and as I excused myself and chatted away I kept glancing across the room at the two coppers and the predicament of the younger one started to become obvious. He was shifting about on the settee constantly, easing his weight from one buttock to the other whilst his right leg was jigging almost continually and every so often he kept scissoring his legs back and forth. He was pressing and rubbing his socked-foot into the carpet as if he were stubbing out a cigarette and I could see that he kept curling his toes tightly.

I was on the phone for what seemed like ages and when I came off I went to apologise and I briefly heard the older copper mutter “Go on, ask now!”

Before I could sit down again the young copper rose to his feet and made to stretch nonchalantly but he suddenly seemed to recoil a bit and I could have sworn that he clasped his legs together at the knees momentarily before regaining his composure. Trying to sound relaxed but looking anything but, he said “Is it alright if I pop to your loo before we continue?”

He had almost started to take a presumptive couple of steps towards the door but my response seemed to hit him like a punch to the belly,

“I’m ever so sorry, but I’ve had the plumber here this morning, the toilet’s had to be repaired and he told me not to use it for about four hours, I’m afraid”.

“Four hours!” the lad blurted out looking horrified.

“I know” replied, “it’s been a couple of hours since he left but to be on the safe side, I’m going to have to leave it for another hour or so, at the very least. Sorry”.

His mate looked concerned but the look on the young copper’s face was priceless. It was a real jaw-dropping moment and I almost expected to see a tear run down his cheek as his face reddened and his lip quivered before he bent forwards, placed his hands on his thighs for a couple of seconds and then straightened up again, by now almost crimson-faced and stammered awkwardly “Oh, okay”.

“Are you alright?” I asked and he just nodded without saying anything.

His mate looked more concerned than ever and said, “We’ll try not to be that long”.

I looked at the lad again “You don’t need to go that badly, do you?”

He looked hugely embarrassed and gave an awkward grimace and a forced grin, “No it’s okay I’m fine”.

But it was obvious to me, and I’m sure to his colleague that things were not fine, not by a long way.


We carried on with the statement for another 15 to 20 minutes during which time the young copper didn’t seem to be able to keep still for more than 3-4 seconds and the leg-jiggling and foot-wriggling got more and more frantic as he seemed to be sitting on a hot-plate rather than a comfortable settee.

All of a sudden, I said “Look, sorry about this but I’m doing so much talking that I need to get a cold drink, do you both want one?”

The older one said “Okay thanks” whilst the other one just looked horrified and shook his head.

I got up and went to the kitchen, once again stopping at the second door and as I discreetly glanced inside, the young copper half-rose to his feet, bent forwards and gave himself a little squeeze of 2-3 seconds and I heard him say, “God, I’m nearly doing it in my pants!”

He looked panic-stricken and his mate replied, “I reckon we’ll be about another half an hour, are you going to be okay?”

The lad looked at him despairingly and whispered, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait anywhere near that long, I feel like I’m going to wet myself!”

But before either of them could say anything else, I walked back into the room and he immediately sat back down.

I returned carrying a tray with a large jug of orange-juice and three large glasses. As I sat down I took one of the glasses and lifted the jug and began to pour the orange slowly into the jar. The gurgling and trickling sound was long and continuous and out of the corner of my eye I saw the young copper’s toes curling tightly in his black cotton socks, one of which was crumpled low down around his ankle and twisted as a result of him rubbing his foot on the carpet, so that the heel of his socks was almost on his ankle.

I noticed him clamp his legs tightly together as I passed one of the full glasses to his colleague and immediately began pouring a second glass in the same way, saying to the lad “Are you sure I can’t tempt you?”

He looked at me in aghast fashion, with his mouth slightly open and I could see beads of sweat on his reddening forehead.

Suddenly, he rose to his feet.

“I’m sorry about this, but I really have got to go to the toilet!”

I started to explain again, “It’s like I said, I think I’ve got to give it a bit more time as the plumber said, so I reckon about another…”

But before I could finish or add any more, the young policeman interrupted me.

“If I don’t go, I’m going to do it!”

His colleague looked up at him in horrified fashion.

“Please!” he continued, “I’m not joking, I’m going to do it in my trousers in a minute!”

“Oh bloody hell!” his mate said.

“Okay, look” I replied, feeling my heart pounding a bit at the astonishing situation, “let me go and ask my neighbour if you can use her toilet. I’m sure she won’t mind, but I’d better go ahead and ask, if that’s okay?”

The predicament of the young constable instantly became even more embarrassing as he began to step from foot to foot, pressing his knees together and then suddenly, standing in the middle of my lounge, he moved his hand down and gave himself a couple of seconds firm squeeze of his crotch before saying,

“Oh God, this is awful. I’m going to have an accident!”

“Okay, okay!” I said, in a bit of a panic, “I’ll run next door and ask if you can use theirs…”

But as I got to the lounge door, he spluttered,

“I won’t make it, honestly. I’m nearly doing it!”

I looked back and he was bobbing up and down on the spot, holding himself tightly between the legs and as I glanced at his face, he was biting his bottom lip and clearly in absolute agony.

“Please!” he muttered, “I’m going to wet myself!”

I was astounded as it was apparent that this lad was on the verge of a catastrophe in his underpants!

I hardly knew what to say, “I don’t know where you can go?”

His colleague stood up and tried to take control of the situation.

“Right, look, you’re going have to hold on until we can sort something out. I think we all need to go to the neighbour and explain the position so that you can go in and use her toilet as quickly as possible. Let’s wind things up here and make our way round there, okay?”

Finishing the statement-taking was clearly the last thing on his young mate’s mind and the words seemed to panic him even more.

“Oh My God! I’m going to go in my pants! I’m at the end of my waiting time, it’s nearly coming out!”

He was still intermittently gripping at his crotch and scissoring his legs back and forth as he stood, shoeless, in the middle of the lounge.

“How on earth have you let yourself get into this state?” I asked.

“I’m absolutely bursting!” he mumbled, stating the obvious.

“He’s been dying to go for ages, long before we got here unfortunately” his colleague tried to explain, “But I didn’t realise it was quite as bad as this.”

The conversation was almost too much for the desperate constable.

“Please, I’m in absolute agony. I can’t hold on much longer. Please don’t let me wet myself because I’m going to unless I … Oh God, no!”

He suddenly bent forwards and clutched the pit of his stomach with one hand.

“Quickly! Please! I’m almost starting to do it!”

His colleague put his hands up to his face in despair and shook his head gently.

“This is so embarrassing, I can’t believe it!”

“Come on, hurry up” I said, “let’s go next door. Can you walk?”

He nodded and began to follow me, taking little steps and moving as if he was treading on eggshells, hardly daring to move his upper body in tune with his legs.

As we got into the hallway and headed towards the back door, I turned round to see him hobbling along, with one hand kneading his crotch and I wondered how my neighbour was going to react when she saw a young police officer at her door in such a state.


His colleague had moved to the bottom of the staircase near the front door and was easing his feet into one of the pairs of shoes sitting on the floor.

“Hey, Lee” he called out, “your shoes, mate. You’ve got to put your shoes back on.”

With that, he bent down and picked up the still laced-up pair of shoes and held them out towards his mate.

Lee stepped forward, took the shoes with his free hand and immediately dropped one of them onto the floor and began trying to wriggle his socked foot into the laced shoe. Realising that he was not going to be able to complete the task without loosening the laces, he had his foot half in and half out of his shoe as he began to fumble with the laces of the shoes that was still in his hand. Releasing the grip on his crotch he was forced to press his legs together tightly and squirm frantically as he tried in vain to untie the knotted lace and lifting his other foot completely out of his shoe.

His colleague volunteered his assistance, “Give it here mate, I’ll do it for you.”

But as he said it, the young constable suddenly stiffened his body and a look of sheer terror and panic spread across his flushed face. I felt my own face flush hot as he mumbled in a quiet, almost inaudible voice, “My pants are getting wet!”

Still holding the shoe in his hand he opened his legs and began to slowly sink down as he bent his knees and gently started to drop further. With his legs still slightly apart he progressed from a bent forwards position into more of a squat and within seconds he was crouching down in a full squat in the middle of the hallway.

With trembling hands he was still fiddling with the knotted laces but he suddenly stopped and although statuesque-like, he began to quiver slightly. We were both looking at him in horrified fashion and I noticed that he seemed to be easing his tense upper body into relaxation as his shoulders sagged slightly.

“Lee, No!” barked the other officer, in a desperate attempt to stop what we both knew was going to be the inevitable and I found myself unable to avert my stare in any other direction.

I could only partly see the young officer’s face but his wide-open eyes were starting to close whilst his mouth was shut and I could see him biting his bottom lip. His head suddenly drooped with his chin almost on his chest and he was looking down at his feet…

“Oh I don’t believe it!” the other officer muttered, as his eyes focused on the floor beneath his mate.

My stare was fixed as I saw several little droplets gathering on the wood block floor, splattering gently between the officer’s feet. There were drips coming from the bottom of one of his trouser legs and as I watched I saw a dribble emerging from the bottom of his crotch. The trickle suddenly began to get more rapid and within seconds the dribble had turned into a steady stream which was falling onto the floor and coming right through his police uniform trousers. The little splatters had converged into a small pool which was glimmering on the hall floor and as I continued to look, the stream became more powerful and was a steady flow running from under his backside as he squatted and jetting out of the bottoms of his trouser legs and dribbling all down the sides of his socks.

The constable made no attempt to move and just remained motionless as the urine started to stream out of his trousers and spread rapidly in an ever-growing puddle surrounding both of his socked feet. In the otherwise silence of the house and with nobody saying anything, the splattering of the torrent into the glistening pool was audible and by this stage, his pent-up pee was literally pouring onto the wooden floor, emerging from the crotch and seat of his trousers and running all down the sides of his socks as it flowed out of the legs of his uniform.

It seemed to go on for ages and he remained squatting down whilst urinating powerfully and no doubt uncontrollably for a good 20 seconds, saturating his trousers and soaking his socks before the cascading flow gradually began to subside and started to trickle and drip into the glimmering amber puddle which was now gently steaming around and underneath his black cotton socks, one of which was twisted and crumpled down around his ankle.

He was still holding his shoe in his hand but all of a sudden, as he finished wetting himself, he dropped the shoe onto the floor and put both hands to his face, covering his mouth and nose and I just heard him say, “Oh My God!” as he remained squatting like a naughty schoolboy.

His trousers and his socks were glistening and steaming hotly, with the puddle on the floor running all round his feet as I tried to contemplate the incredible fact that a uniformed and shoeless policeman had just spectacularly wet himself in my hall!


The three of us remained in an uncomfortable silence for several seconds before the officer standing alongside me spoke, “Oh mate, you’ve done it in your pants!”

His young colleague, still down on his haunches, replied in a shaky voice,

“I’ve never had to go so bad in all my life, never like that. I was practically doing it as we were sitting in the lounge, I just couldn’t make it any further. I can’t believe I’ve wet myself, though.”

Then he looked up at me and said, “I’m so sorry about this, I really apologise.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.”

“Come on, mate” added his colleague, holding out his hand and helping the other officer to slowly stand up and as he rose to his feet he let out a little gasp, “Oh it’s running all down my legs!” adding “Sorry” again, as a new little puddle formed under his sock.

“Look, you can’t go back like this” I said, “I’m going to ask my neighbour if you can pop in next door and try and clean up a bit before you head back. There’s no way you can stay in this state.”

Surprisingly, he offered no objections and just a couple of minutes later I returned with my neighbour who covered her face with her hands in horror as she saw the young policeman standing in my hallway with saturated trousers and a huge pool on the wooden floor. He’d put his shoes back on by this time and walking slowly and awkwardly, he followed her and his colleague out of the back door.

I had just finished mopping and drying the floor and putting newspaper down around 15 minutes later when the two officers returned with my neighbour. The younger one was now wearing a pair of black tracksuit bottoms and he was carrying a plastic carrier bag with him, as my neighbour explained,

“I’ve given him some of my son’s clothes to wear. He’s away at university so he won’t mind. At least the tracksuit bottoms will let him get back without being too uncomfortable and I’ve also given him a pair of my son’s pants and socks. Take care, love” she said, patting his arm in motherly fashion.

The other officer explained to me that he’d pop back in the next day or so to finish sorting out the statement and both of them thanked me, apologising once again. Just as they were about to leave, the young officer walked up close to me and said,

“Can I ask a favour, mate? You couldn’t dispose of these for me, could you? I was too embarrassed to ask the lady next door.”

And with that he reached carefully into the carrier bag he was holding and pulled out a rolled up pair of sodden white underpants.

“Of course” I said, “drop them on that newspaper there and I’ll deal with them for you.”

“Thanks, mate” he said, dropping the soggy pants onto the floor.


I watched them walk back down the garden path to their parked police vehicle and having seen them drive away, I bent down and picked up the police officer’s wet pants. As I unfurled the white briefs, a pair of well-worn, wringing wet, black cotton ribbed socks dropped out and I was left standing, smiling to myself, holding the underpants and contentedly contemplating, ‘I wonder what these will look like if I have them framed for posterity?’

:D
Fred
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Joined: 20 Sep 2016, 12:37

Re: The Day the Police came to my House...

Post by Fred »

Oh, my! Another well-told, beautifully detailed story from The Master! Involving the female neighbor heightened the embarrassment, though she seemed to be very sympathetic. This is a story that one must read more than once to catch all the nuances.

Thank you, Lee.
Brian
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Re: The Day the Police came to my House...

Post by Brian »

Could it be that the younger officer just kicked off his shoes on arrival because his need to piss meant that he didn't want to hold still long enough to unlace them properly? That turned out to be disastrous later on. Poor guy, I did feel sorry for him reading this story. Great read, thank you!
Lee
Can't stay away...
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Joined: 18 Sep 2016, 16:05

Re: The Day the Police came to my House...

Post by Lee »

Brian wrote: 17 Oct 2020, 21:36 Could it be that the younger officer just kicked off his shoes on arrival because his need to piss meant that he didn't want to hold still long enough to unlace them properly? That turned out to be disastrous later on. Poor guy, I did feel sorry for him reading this story. Great read, thank you!
That's exactly it! Spot on.

I know the story won't go down too well with everyone but I quite enjoyed writing it! :lol:
ThePTNN202
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Location: Australia

Re: The Day the Police came to my House...

Post by ThePTNN202 »

Thanks Lee. I particularly enjoy Police stories. It’s weird, in real life I’d feel pretty awful (I mean some of those guys put up with s*** most of us could never even imagine, sometimes on a daily basis, I’ve so much respect and would probably feel anything from awkward to distressed if this was real) but the fiction is wonderful even if my own imagination would go towards a slightly different ‘ending’ (and to each their own).

Also, the situation, while weird, seems plausible as I recall a colleague telling me of a similar one years ago (some plumbing work and his bathroom being 'out of action' ...and that he didn't 'go' before leaving work because he just made the usual assumption so of course arrived home absolutely busting but unable to use his own toilet ...already knowing this was going to happen but having forgotten) but that's for a different section/story.
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