more real accidents

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Posted by franny on December 13, 1997 at 09:23

Hi once again, My mom and dad are gone for the weekend,
and I have free use of the computer. Let me go right
to a couple of other real #2 accidents I have exper-
ienced. At 17, right out of high school, I spent a month
at a church camp deep in the woods, and we had lots
of time around the campfire in the evenings. One night
an older counselor told a really scary ghost story.
At the climactic point there was a loud sound effect
of something really eerie way off in the woods. But
the noise came from right behind me and I must have jumped a foot and a half straight up in the air.
At the same time I made a mess in my shorts, com-
pletely out of my control. Everybody was screaming
in fright and later I heard that a 14 year old girl
sitting near me had wet herself. In my case I was
both brown and wet, though I had regained control
quickly enough that it wasn't of disastrous pro-
portions. So I got up and ran back to the dorm and
went straight to the bathroom to clean up.
I would probably have remained undetected, but one
of the counselors followed me, sensing I was in distress.
I wish she hadn't, but she discovered me and my messy
condition before I could finish cleaning up. I had
a good cry, we discarded my underwear, and she agreed
to keep my accident a secret.
The very next summer something else happened which I saw, it did not happen to me. After freshman year a group of us went to Myrtle Beach for a weekend house party. It was boys and girls both but we were chaperoned. Not all that much heavy playing around took place.
I had several close girlfriends from school there. One of us, Ellen, was this like star student and even tho she had some great qualities she was sort of stuck up, and kept her head stuff mostly secret. She didn't even date a lot even tho she had a cute little figure that was to die for. Only her roommate even knew whether she was even still a virgin, and she wasn't telling.
I was broiling in the sun with a couple other girls. Ellen and Kay came up and talked to us. They were dressed in street clothes, shorts and halter top, since they'd been to town shopping. We invited them to stay with us but Ellen, acting antsy in a way I'd never seen her do before, said she had to go back to the room. She and Kay went on off, and Ellen seemed to be hurrying.
Ten minutes later I had to get up to go back to my own room for something. My room was next door to Ellen's and Kay's in the motel. As I walked back to my room I noticed the door to their room open. I walked in, curious, and I could hear the shower going in the bathroom. Neither girl was in the motel room but right away I saw Ellen't cotton shorts lying crumpled on the floor. Then, on the coffee table in front of the sofa, I saw what had to be Ellen's panties. They had been pooped in for real! They were just sitting there on the table quite brown and messy. As best I could tell, she had been desperately stripping off her clothes as she came in the door. Her light colored shorts, on the floor, seemed to be clean, but she obviously did a number in her underpants before she could get to the toilet.Luckily for her it wasn't a complete disaster, just like me at summer camp, I had been able to exert control before the flood gates had opened wide. But here was everything I needed to know about snooty little Ellen to make her life miserable for weeks. Obviously her roomie and best buddy Kay was a keeper of Ellen's secrets.
I actually considered making off with Ellen's pooped panties, but, well, I guess after all is said and done, I'm not really that kind of girl. Besides, I don't like touching feces any more than another person.
So I tiptoed out of the room before Kay or Ellen could come out of the bathroom, and I resolved not to tell what I had seen. As it turned out, Ellen herself turned out to be able to make fun of herself. She actually ended up confessing to all of us girls (5 of us altogether) that she had had an "accident" in her pants that day. Her face was beet red as she told about it, but the point is that she had the ability to tell on herself that way. I have always been to shy and embarrassed to admit it freely when I have had accidents. I do my best to keep other people from knowing.
Does anybody out there have any thoughts about all this? Why does telling about it turn me on? Am I weird?

Belgian anniversary

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Posted by Morse on January 12, 1999 at 10:11

Hello everyone,

Just like probably most of you I am a big admirer of this site. “I” means: a Belgian guy in his early thirties and married for almost 13 years. It’s not only the peeing or pooping which attracts me, you know. In fact I adore all women who have the guts to do something uncommon, something “out of order”. And that could mean lots of things, like some exhibitionism, wet clothes, messy things etc. I can’t say my own wife is really into it, but she knows what I like and from time to time she realy surprises me. This makes me think of one Saturday afternoon when we were both shopping. She bought a rather expensive dress then (something in black velvet). When we returned home, I felt tired and wanted to take a bath. As I was enjoying the warmth of the water, she entered the bathroom, showing off her new dress. I hardly had the time to say it looked nice, when she just smiled and.... stepped into the water, joining me in the bath. Needless to say we had one of our best love sessions of our marriage then.

That was until yesterday. Cause yesterday was my birthday and I must say.. It was one I will never forget. But before I continue, I’d better describe my wife, Linda, a bit. She is 35, about 5’7” tall, 110 lbs, long dark brown hair (down to half of her back), very nice long legs, a rather small butt and very shapely C-boobs. Oh, and she wears glasses too. “They make me look smarter”, as she always says. OK, now you can see the picture a bit better, I suppose. So back to yesterday.

When I came back home from work it was already dark outside. But the lights in the living room where all dimmed. Only five or six candles were burning.. and the table was set for two. A bottle of red wine.. and her favourite CD (The best of Simply Red) in the background. She was busy in the kitchen and I must say she looked stunning. She wore a white satin blouse, a long jeans skirt and her knee high boots. She knows I am really fond of those boots. So I know when she wears them, I can expect something. As soon as she noticed me, she walked up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, whispered “happy birthday honey” and gave me a sweet passionate kiss. “Can you lit the fire”, she said, “then I will finish dinner.” Don’t ask me why, but litting the fire is always my job, so I did as I was asked. By the time I had a nice cracking fire, she just had serviced the soup. I poured out the wine, we winked at each other and started to eat.. “Mmm”, she said, “a bit too waterish.. this could use some more pepper”. And before I could hand her the pepper, she bent forward and reached out to take it.. Now that was clumsy, cause the fabric of her blouse around her right breast fell down in her soup. I yelled “watch out”, but it was too late. “Oh damn”, she sighed, “look at me now”.. I felt sorry for her, but from the way she looked at me, I knew this was not an accident. She almost grinned, giggled.. and didn’t even clean it up, but held the wet fabric against her breast. Now I saw she was not even wearing a bra. “Well, well”, I thought. Her nipple became stiff very soon and poked through the fabric, which was very see-through by now. “I’ll clean it up later”, she smiled, “besides.. it feels nice and warm, you kow”. I just smiled back.. not knowing what to say anyway.

After finishing the soup, she took away the dishes and brought the main course. She had prepared French fries (which are in fact Belgian !) with steak and sauce. It looked very tasty. She said: “you can already start.. i’ll wait a bit.. still too hot for me”. Well, I knew she doesn’t like real hot food, but this was not that hot.. After five minutes I said: “you really should start now, or it will be cold”. “Okay”, she replied, then stood up, took the dish, placed it upon the chair, lifted up her skirt, grinned at me.. and very s l o w l y let herself down on it. My mouth fell open, the knife fell onto the floor. I heard some soft slurping noise ashe she smashed the fries and the sauce with her butt.. She closed her eyes and softly moaned.. hhmmmm... After a minute or so I finally found my breath again: “What the hell are you doing tonight ??”. She opened her eyes again, but it was a strange look as if she was in a trance. Then she opened her legs, took some fries, dipped them in the sauce and ate them. Well, I couldn’t anymore. I was just too astonished, watching that incredible show she gave me. I really wanted to tear her clothes off and fuck her brains out right there and then. After a few minutes, she stood up again. Some fries and sauce fell upon the floor or even into her boots.

She took everything to the kitchen again and came back with a big birthday cake. She placed it in front of me. There was alot of cream on it, cherries, and my name written in chocolate. She stood on the other side of the table, winked, licked her lips, stepped upon the chair and climbed upon the table. On her knees and elbows she crawled towards me like a black panther, her long hair falling down her sides. Right in front of me, above the cake, she stopped. Two buttons of her blouse were open, so I could clearly see her naked breasts, the right one still being wet from the soup. Then she looked me straight in the eyes and whispered: “happy birthday” .... She lowered herself down.. until her boobs touched the cream.. She even went lower then and I saw the whole cake being pushed between her breasts and the table.. Through the openings of her blouse it touched her naked skin. She took some chocolate from between her breasts and lick it off her finger. I thought I was going to cum in my pants ! She wrapped her arms around me, placing her chocolate lips upon mine. Then she slipped off the table and in a very seductive way mounted my lap. As she sat astride me, she began to kiss me.. explore my mouth with her tongue.. I didn’t know if this was heaven or hell, cause I REALLY needed to fuck her badly now. I couldn’t wait any longer. As I was answering her kisses, suddenly I felt something warm and wet through my trousers.. I guess I had eyes like canon balls then. I heard her softly moaning.. as if she was very relieved... the warmth of her body against mine, the mess of the fries and the cake.. and on top of that her warm pee soaking through my trousers... My hands went down under her skirt.. rubbing her divine legs.. up to her butt.. I felt her soaked panties.. My hands were all over her butt, not knowing what or where to feel first. Suddenly she sighed: “stop, hold them there. this is something to top it off.. I’ve saved it for almost two days..” She closed her eyes again, slightly opened her lips and then.. oh my god.. first I heard that soft sound.. and then.. a small bulge which became bigger and bigger.. I could feel the turd growing in my hand.. through the wet fabric of her panties..oh my god... I kissed her like there was no tomorrow and she held me so tight like she wanted to press my body inside hers.. As soon as the turd had left her body, I gently massaged it up her crack. All of a sudden she moaned: “take me..right now..” and started to unclasp my belt. Swiftly she opened my zipper, took my rock hard cock ... positioned herself above me.. pulled away her dirty panties and let herself glide down upon me.. Nope.. Not the pussy ! Again I didn’t know what to think or say. We had had anal sex a few times before, but she always said it hurted too much. Now she smiled again and said: “I guess the poop lubricated it well enough now”. and she pushed herself down upon my shaft.. gasping for air.. her eyes closed.. I felt that I pushed another turd back inside her. Soon we moved together.. We were united and moved as one.. to the rhythm of the slow music. I reached between her legs and found her lovebutton. I started to gently rub it, but suddenly she cramped, her mouth wide open, a yell, a scream.. “OH GOD !” She shook all over her boddy.. over and over.. and repeated yelling “oh my god ! oh my god !”. I held her so tightly in my arms I could almost feel her wave of orgasms right through my own body. That really did it to me.. I felt it coming; I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t want it either. It was as if it came from my feet.. right through my cock.. load after load.. I pushed.. and shook and filled her ass with al my seed... I was almost fainting.. Unbelievable.. Never knew it could be so heavenly.

We caught our breath again.. and stayed in that position for some more minutes.. She kissed me gently and whispered: “come, let’s clean ourselves”. We went to the shower and she boldly stepped into it. Very quickly her hair was dripping wet, as were her blouse and her skirt.. all the water flowing into her boots.. She winked me into the shower and peeled off my clothes. I took hers off as well. We soaped each other. Well, it was a playful mixture of soaping, washing, kissing, rubbing, giggling. When all the dirt was washed away, she embraced me again and kissed me deeply. While her tongue entered my mouth again, I cupped her butt and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around me and as she pressed her lips upon my, I slowly entered her pussy. She rocked up and down slowly.. softly.. the water pouring down our faces made it magic.. almost too magic, cause after a couple of minutes we climaxed again. (I lost my concentration and almost let her fell down.. *s*).

We dried each other. I took my pyjamas and she slid her long white satin nightgown over her body. We went to bed. I was lying upon my back, her head upon my chest. While I was carressing her back and her butt, I kissed her forehead and stared at the ceiling. I still couldn’t believe this all had happened to me (and in fact I still can’t right now). As my hand was gliding over her ass I suddenly felt a wet stream again. I shouted “Hey, what...”, but she placed her finger upon my lips and whispered “shh... quiet now.. just enjoy”.. So I lied there, her body half upon mine.. her pee flowing over my thighs.. soaking her gown and my own pyjamas. I felt her crotch and the pee flowed between my fingers. Then I felt her push a bit, and yes.. I felt the bulge again.. right through the satin. I felt it grow.. so warm.. so soft and so wet.. She rubbed my cheek, kissed my ear and sighed: “Take me.. now.. please...”

The rest I will tell you another time... at least, if you are interested..

Julies Awakening

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Posted by Toby on April 17, 1999 at 13:02

Hello everyone, I did not get much response from my last post so I'll submit this one as my second effort. Like many of you I'm sure, I am a loner as far as this fetish is concerned and very likely to stay that way. My other half (or S.O. as you seems to say here) has no idea of my activities in this respect and to be honest I think I prefer it to remain that way. Probably because of this, and again it appears like many of you, I fantasise about situations and events that will never happen to me in real life, but about which give me quite a turn on during my PP activities.

I notice a lot of correspondence and posts about the 'sexual stimulation' side of the coin. I cannot help feeling that the vast majority of us, if not all, find some kind of sexual satisfaction from these activities even if the satisfaction is gained over a long period of time and/or is self-administered. I dare say that I may get a few responses to that particular point, but there you are. Personally I find it a pleasurable alternative to more usual forms of sexual activity, and the fantasies are a way of releasing some of the more obscure desires that I have. On reflection that last sentence makes me sound like a bit of a creep, but I don't think I am. My desires are not too dark - honest, probably a bit sad if truth be known.

Anyway, I have begun writing a few fantasy pieces (I'm sorry there're not true stories, I lead a rather plain life compared to some of you.) I have noticed that this one is similar in situation to a true story posted earlier and after I'd written it, still here it is nonetheless.

Julies Awakening.

We were travelling back from a day out in the country, it was summer so the weather was warm. It had been about an hour since we left the spot where we had enjoyed a picnic out in the open air. We had chatted for a little while since we started off and Julie had dozed off and slept for the last ten miles. She was an attractive girl with long dark hair and brown eyes. She looked very summery dressed in a short summer skirt, T - shirt and sandals.

With another hours journey ahead of us I began to think about stopping somewhere for refreshments.
Not having made the journey before, I had little idea of when we would come across the next convenient rest area. I reached for the map in the back seat and in doing so I brushed Julie's hair and awoke her from her short nap.
"Where are we?" she enquired drowsily.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you" I said, "I thought I'd look for a place to stop somewhere up ahead"
"I'll have a look" she offered and took the map from me. As she studied the map and established exactly where we were she began to shift uneasily in her seat.

"Found anything?" I asked after a few minutes silence. She looked decidedly agitated by now.
"There's a place about fifteen miles away, I think" she replied "I hope it's got some decent toilets".
"If your desperate I can pull over and you can go in a hedge" I offered. I had only known her a short while and I wasn't sure if she was the adventurous type of girl or not.
"No, I couldn't do that", she sounded shocked "What with people going by?"
I thought for a minute. "There's an empty plastic container in the back" I suggested, "You could go in that, I was going to throw it out anyway" From the look she gave me you'd have thought I had asked her to pee out of the car window as we were going along. Still, she saw the wry smile on my face and treated my suggestion with the contempt it deserved.

After a while she admitted that she needed to go 'big toilet' and there was no way she was going to do that in anything other than a porcelain throne. Things started to look decidedly uncomfortable for Julie and as luck would have it we hit some heavy traffic and began to slow down.
"How far now?" I asked, aware that she was beginning to show signs of squirming on her seat.
" Oh, miles!" she replied sharply, as I began to detect a note of panic in her voice.
"Look" I said, " I'll pull off somewhere soon if you're that desperate. You can't go on like this for the next ten miles, you'll end up going in your knickers".

" It might come to that, I think I've left it too late," she said. Her face was pink and she looked ready to cry. The traffic started to ease at this point and we began to pick up speed a little. She was clenching her bottom desperately by now and she was beginning to feel the cramps in her tummy telling her it was time to let it all come out.

"I'm sorry," she said " I don't think I can hold it much longer" she began to giggle a little "This is so embarrassing". I felt for her but at the same time I couldn't help feeling a little aroused at help plight..
"Look try to sit down into the seat then if you do start to go, it won't be able to come out" I suggested.
"Okay" she said and wiggled down into the seat. She brushed her hair away from her face and looked at me. "I hope this works" she said, " because I haven't been for a couple of days so there'll be an awful lot of it".
"Trust me."
With that she became quiet, her eyes seemed to glaze over, her cheeks flushed and I could see her tummy contracting and her knuckles whiten as she gripped the sides of the seat. She gave a couple of short involuntary gasps as her BM strained to be released into her knickers, thwarted only by the stubborn car seat which saved her from both embarrassment and relief. She finally relaxed and sank into the chair. "Thank goodness, it worked" she breathed a sigh of relief " I managed to hold it in".

The traffic had speeded up now and shortly we saw the countdown markers for the rest area. I looked across at Julie she had a look of grim determination on her face and it made me smile.
"How are you doing?" I enquired.
"You can laugh" she said with mock anger "if it does come out it's your car seat that'll suffer!"
We pulled up in an empty space close to the ladies loo. Julie had relaxed after her last BM attempt but sadly the car seat and her posture had given her a false sense of security. But the BM hadn't gone away, it was only hiding round the corner, so to speak. She turned to get her bag from the back seat and as soon as she lifted her bottom it released the pressure. The BM leapt out to take her by surprise.
With a stifled scream she turned to the front and tried to sit into the seat again but it was clearly too late. The BM had reached the point of no return and it wasn't going back! Poor Julie had no option but to hold herself off the seat with her hands. Her face was flushed with effort and her tummy was contracting vigorously and she groaned as the BM forced its way out of her body and steadily filled the gusset of her white cotton panties. She was helpless to prevent the onslaught. I was too as I watched her body stiffen and her thighs part gradually to let the firm mass squeeze out of her and pile its way into her knickers.

I couldn't see much at first but I could hear a faint squelching sound as it was being delivered. Her skirt had ridden up and eventually I could just see the gusset of her knickers being stretched as poor Julie paid the price for allowing herself to be caught short.

She relaxed a little only to receive another cramp, which pushed more of the stuff into her straining gusset. Her thighs were widely spread by now to accommodate the warm pile that had settled between them. Finally she had finished. She looked at me with a wry grin. " Now what do I do?"

I was aware at this stage of a hard lump in the front of my jeans. I had found the incident quite a turn on, but reality soon took over. "Just don't sit in it," I said fearful of the condition of my car seat if she had of sat down and spread the warm pile around her bottom and probably out of the openings in her panties. I got out and quickly made my way round to open her door. Carefully Julie got to her feet and with a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear she walked uneasily towards the loo.

A while later she emerged smiling and without a word got into the car seat and shut the door.
"All okay" I enquired "Yes" she said, "I'm fine now" her skin was flushed pink and she seemed to be in a very light-hearted mood. As we set off to continue our journey, I couldn't help wondering whether or not she had found the experience of messing her panties a turn on, as well. Only time would tell.

here's another one

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Posted by cfw on November 07, 1998 at 21:14

MESS AT MILLER'S BEND

How long till we get there? Diana asked, she'd been squirming around in her seat since they had left the house, canting herself forward while squeesing her shapely legs together. Tom had noticed the tense look on her beautiful face and the way all her fidgeting was making the short yellow skirt she was wearing ride up to expose all of her tanned thighs. About twenty minutes he said. Are you okay?

Diana's need for a bowel movement had increased dramatically since they had started out thirty minites ago. I need to go to the toilet real bad she told him matter of factly and added I really thought I was going to have an accident in step class this morning but the urge went away, guess I should have tried to go at home.

They had been going out together for less than two months
and Diana had just recently started talking about her personal toilet habits, gradually building up over the past few weeks to a now running commentary on what is usually a private matter. For instance, Tom knew she had not gone poop the day before yesterday. Had the urge to go last night but held off and now she was fighting to not go in her panties.

Diana had told him of a few minor accidents she had had due to her habit of waiting too long to go. Times when she had dribbled a bit of pee into the crotch of her panties or had left a brown stain in the back of them. He didn't know why she had deceided to tell him these things but it turned him on and now he couldn't get past the thought that his beautiful sexy girlfriend was almost shitting her panties.

they did not live together, she had an apartment of her own but had been spending an increasing amount of time at his. As far as he could recollect Diana had never used his toilet for a bowel movement and now he found himself actually hoping that she would right in front of him.

Diana had stayed over last night and he had watched her dress after her exercise class for this little jaunt to the country. He could picture the silky white panties she had on, high rise lace front, full seat, all that was covering them was a skimpy yellow wrap skirt that had big brown flowers on it. She was wearing a matching lace bra under a pale yellow sleevless summer top. This was a lovely warm day so she hadn't worn pantyhose.

She carried a tiny leather shoulder purse which matched her brown high heeled sandles. Diana was beautiful, she knew it and was extremely fastidious obout her appearence. Perfect he thought glacing over at her, her long blond hair blowing in the wind from the open window.

There's a gas station a few minutes up ahead we can pull in there he said. No, Diana replied , I can wait til we get to Miller's Bend. Are you sure? I'm fine Tom, Diana said and hoped that she would be, not wanting to shit her panties in his new red VW beetle. Not at this stage of their relationship anyway.

I must be nuts Diana thought, Tom is such a decent guy and really cares about me. Their future together looked bright and was something that she really wanted. So why am I playing these games? Although she knew that her toilet talk and antics caught his attention and seemed to aroused him, she really didn't want to chance loosing him.

A full fledged accident may well end it she knew from previous experience. But still, Diana had planned just a minor soiling in order to gage his reaction. Squirm around holding on till it's almost too late then conveniently leave the skid maked panties around where he is sure to find them.

They arrived at Miller's Bend, a quaint little village along the river set up for tourists, and parked at the Old Mill Inn. Diana, her panties still clean, had spotted an interesting looking pub at the end of a row of shops they decided to try out. She took a quick look in a few shop as they walked back up to it. Although nice from the outside she thought it too grubby to eat in and the decision was made to have a quick drink then eat in the upscale restaurant at the Inn.

After fifteen minutes in the pub Diana was squirming about again and bobbing her legs up and down. She really had to shit now and it didn't go unnoticed by Tom, he had developed an erection. Diana was confident that her poop would be large, solid and relatively odourless, she had taken her pills and eaten to make it so. And now time was up, she could feel it opening her sphinkter and push against her panties against her control. What a waste to have to drop it in a toilet she thought.

They got up to leave and while Tom paid the bill Diana went off to use the washroom. So he was genuinely surprised to see her standing there waiting for him and in obvious distress. The bathhroom's filthy she said I'll have to use the one at the Inn. She took his hand and pulled him out of the Pub. His hardon had grown and he was glad to be wearing a light summer shirt that was not tucked in.

Walking quickly back past the shops Diana suddenly was frozen to the spot, her hand shooting to the rear of her skirt. Ooohh! I'm messing my panties she gasped. Tom was quick to react guiding her to the side of the last shop in the row and up to a railing above the river. While still a few people about, this provided more privacy than the street. Diana placed both hands on the railing, spreading her legs apart and bending over at the waist.

Even though her poop had started to exit while she was on the street she had to push, bearing down hard to exit it completely into her panties. Tom watched transfixed as she took a deep breath and held it, straining to push out her BM, the effort causing her face to flush. ARRRGGGGH! Diana grunted and Tom standing beside and slightly behind her could hear a fpfpfp sound and smell her exiting shit. But rather than being repulsed it actually smelled nice to him and he nearly came in his pants.

All of Diana's inhabitions about having a full blown accident in front of her boyfriend were gone as she was lost in the extacy of pooping her panties. NNNNNGGGGGH! She bore down again the load lifting her skirt out a distance from her shapely ass. Breathing heavily she put her hand on the bulge gently kneading against herself and kept it back there as she pushed even more hard shit from her bowels. Tom couldn't believe that his gorgeous girlfriend was not only shitting herself in public but aparently taking great pleasure in doing so.

When Diana finally finished crapping her panties she stood there breathless for a moment before coming back to reality. The few people around who had witnessed her accident were shocked and had hurried off without comment. Her lover, the only classy guy she had ever dated and who she was slowly attempting to break into this secret world of hers was probably in shock as well. By now he's probably wondering why the hell did I not just use the washroom in the pub she thought.

But that's not what he was thinking at all. As soon as she took her hand away from the mound in her panties he put his there, he couldn't help himself. Diana opened her mouth drawing a long breath past her teeth in a sigh of pleasure. Her load was massive, the first turd stretching her panties outward six inches, a second even larger, had moved upward to loadge in the cleft of her ass, and there was a great mass the size of an orange saging her panties downwad to the hem of her mini skirt.

She had been correct in her assumption that her shit would be solid. It was in fact very hard and dry which accounted for her having to strain so much Tom figured. But
Diana's shit was not the only thing that was hard. She turned to face him blushing with the embarrasement of having revealed the secret that pooping in her panties was her greatest pleasure. He was slightly embarrassed too, not knowing what to say but feeling that he should say something.

After an awkward silence he said I guess dinner at the Mill is off to which Diana replied well you wouldn't want sit there with a me knowing I have this huge load of poop in panties would you. He could have been coy but instead opted for the simple truth, actually I would like that very much if it's what you want. They looked into each others eyes then Diana pulled him close and they kissed, both putting their hands down to her bulge at the same time. Even this close he could just smell her wonderful aroma and thought to really smell it one would have to put his face right down there and he could bearly hold himself back from doing so.

They walked to the Old Mill Inn down the block, the sway of her shapely hips causing her short yellow skirt to dance side to side about her protruding panties. They entered the restaurant to a quiet corner on the outside balcony. No one was aware that the beautiful women who just passed by had her panties full with shit.

To make her poop more solid Diana had cut back a bit on liquid intake. The last time she peed was through her black spandex shorts in the parking lot outside after her exercise class. The whine she drank at the Pub went straight through and she had peed a bit in her panties while straining to go poop. Walking back from the railing where she had had her accident Diana would press her hand to her crotch when no one was looking so that she wouldn't wet herself on the sidewalk.

At the table on the balcony Diana had flipped up the back of her skirt and gently sat down pushing her load even further up and back. Her hand was pressed tightly between her legs while the waiter took their order. As soon as he left she moved to the edge of the chair, spread her legs and peed through her panties onto the floor under the table. The volume of her piss caused a splashing noise that was masked by the thick outdoor carpet, the roar of the river below and the chatter of the people around them. Only Tim knew what she was doing and he loved that she was so brazen,what a woman he thought.

After the meal during which Diana poured out story after story of the many times she had wet and messed her herself, they took a room. Stipped naked except for her dirty panties pulled to the side, sweat glistening on her perfect body, Diana sat astride of Tom bringing them both to the most amazing climax as she slide up and down on his shaft.

After a couple hours sex play they cleaned up and went down to the bar in the basement. Diana peed on the floor through her poop filled panties before they returned to their room for more sex and an even greater climax. She lay there with bare breasts pressed against his back as he softly snored away in exhausted sleep. She reached back for one last feel of her hard load and was completely happy and content for the first time in her life. Then just before passing into peaceful sleep herself Diana wet the bed.

Amy loads her panties (Story)

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Amy loads her panties (Fictional Story)

Amy sat in her high school math class waiting for the class to be finally over. She wasn't paying much attention to the instructor. Her attention was on the need for her to move her bowels. She often enjoyed doing it her pants when she was alone, but she couldn't do it at school in front of everybody. She wanted to wait until class was over so she could do it at home. Her math class was the last period of the day and she planned to do it soon as she got home.
She could feel her butt cheeks beginning to sweat from the strain of being clenched shut. The class had about fifteen minutes left. She was only able to hold it in because she was sitting on a hard wooden chair. She was worried that when the class did finally end she might not be able to hold it in when she stood up. Amy debated about asking the teacher if she could use the rest room but she wanted to do this load in her panties. She also thought of maybe asking to go then just leaving school then but she knew if she was caught it would be three weeks after-school detention.
Amy was wearing a pair of blue jeans, not really tight but sort of form fitting, a pink blouse and underneath she had on plain white full cut panties. Her best friend, Jenny, was sitting next to her and Amy thought she noticed her distress. Nobody knew of Amy's little habit of using the toilet in her pants.
"Are you OK?" Jenny asked.
"I have a stomach ache," Amy answered.
Jenny seemed OK with Amy's explanation. She turned her attention back to the teacher.
Amy looked at the clock and saw that there was only a couple of minutes until the class would be over. She could feel her poop trying to exit her bottom. The chair was the only thing holding it inside. The bell rang and everyone began to get up and leave the room. Amy was taking her time gathering her papers hoping that Jenny would go ahead and leave with the others. But alas Jenny stood and was waiting on Amy so they could walk to their lockers together.
"What are you doing?" Jenny asked.
"Trying to get all this stuff put away, why?" Amy said.
"Seems like you are stalling that's all." Jenny said.
Amy said, "Can you keep a secret?"
"Yeah why?" Jenny replied.
"I have to poop really bad and I don't think that I am going to make it to the rest room. I guess I'll just have to do it in my pants and clean up when I get home." Amy said.
Jenny said, "I can live with that I guess"
Amy couldn't believe this great opportunity. She had always dreamed of doing it when someone would know what was doing. She stood up and turned her back to Jenny and released the hold on this load. The poop began moving slowly at first then picked up speed as it mashed into her white cotton panties. The first wave was about the size of a baseball. She then began to push and she could feel more of her nice warm poop filling her panties. She pooped for maybe two minutes but to Amy it seemed like an eternity. When she was finished pooping in her pants she had a bulge about the size of a grapefruit in the back of her pants.
She turned to face Jenny who was standing there in shock. Jenny couldn't believe that her best friend Amy had stood in the middle of the classroom and pooped in her pants like that. At first she was disgusted then she thought back to the last time she had had an accident in her pants. She was about fifteen and she had pooped in her pants during class but she had gotten home unnoticed.
"Feel better now?" Jenny asked.
"Yes, much better." Amy said as she reached around to feel the size of the bulge.
They walked out to their lockers side by side as if nothing had happened. Since they were in the room for a while after everyone else left, there wasn't anyone around. They put away their things and walked outside of the school.
"I guess I'll see ya tomorrow Amy, and have fun trying to clean up," Jenny said jokingly.
"I see ya tomorrow and I doubt this will be much fun," Amy said.
They parted ways and Amy started walking for home. She could feel the load swaying back and forth in her panties. The was so horny she couldn't hardly stand it. As she got close to her house she noticed that her parents weren't home. She stepped through the front door and lowered her jeans and masturbated through her panties like crazy. She came in one of the most forceful orgasms she'd ever had.
Then she pulled her jeans back up and went into the kitchen and poured her a glass of soda. She went to the chair and slowly lowered herself into it. She felt her wonderful poop squish up her back and out the sides of her panties into her jeans. She came a second time just from sitting in her poop. She then began the long process of cleaning up.
Later that night she lay in bed wanking herself as she relived it all in her mind.


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Afternoon Comforts

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Afternoon Comforts

Hullo everybody. Thank you for all the nice responses to my last post - when the despoilers aren’t about their destructive work (or are moderated out) this board is indeed a warm and friendly place. It seems apparent to me that almost everybody who is into this particular interest (I don’t really like the word ‘fetish’ as it has such strong associations with the more violent forms of perversion that I find rather repellant) is by nature gentler and less agressive than the norm. Which is nice.

Some good news is that I now have my own computer, thanks to a friend of cousin Tim’s who deals in (very) secondhand AppleMacs on the side. It is a rather battered Performa 630 and it is rapidly becoming my best friend. No, this doesn’t mean I now have my own Internet connection - I don’t even have a phone at my flat yet, let alone a modem! But it does mean that I can write my bits and pieces at leisure, put them on a disc and then just nip round to Tim’s to actually post them. Also, I can now download and archive other interesting posts instead of having to print them out all the time. Quite an advance for little old me.

I’m afraid I’m still not clear just how much this moderating business is going to affect what I can write about. To me, this whole fascination with going to the toilet in my pants stretches right back into my childhood, as a link - a sort of thread of continuity - with more carefree times. That’s a lot of the appeal. Certainly, I get as much pleasure as the next girl from the direct physical sensations I experience when widdling or - better still - making BM’s in my knickers. But, as with good sex, the physical aspect is only part of the whole. As with many of us here on this board, when I indulge my naughty desires I like to imagine I’m little again, and don’t have all the stresses and worries of everyday life (like trying to write a 3000-word grammatical and structural analysis of a Katherine Mansfield short story, which is what the rest of today holds for me!)

For this association to be meaningful, it’s important to me to relive those times when I was younger and enjoyed the same physical sensations of wetting and messing my pants. So it’s likewise difficult to write about these experiences out of context. I suppose that in many ways, part of me is still Lucy the unreliable toddler, or Lucy the rebellious six-year-old. And when I find myself with my knickers clinging wetly to my crotch, or with a nice big load of warm squashiness under my bottom, it’s that same little Lucy who just went toilet in her pants - again! (I did fall to wondering, in an idle moment the other day, just how many times I had actually wet or messed myself in my twenty-and-a-bit years. I didn’t come up with an answer, but I think I know now why the makers of washing powder make such healthy profits year after year!)

The way my lectures and tutorials fall out at the moment I have a lot of afternoons free between about twelve and three-thirty. This is very convenient, as I can come back here to the flat for two or three uninterrupted hours; a very good opportunity to revive some of these appealing aspects of my past. For, in common with a lot of children, I was always expected to have an afternoon rest or, later, a ‘quiet time’, just after lunch. And it was very often during this period - tucked up under the covers for a nap, or curled up on a rug in the garden - that I would fill my pants. In fact, that seems pretty general with kids, and if you read a bit of basic human biology (mass peristalsis and all that!) you’d pretty soon conclude that this is a highly-likely time of day for a BM to occur. (After a meal is almost always when things start to happen - but either mid-morning or early afternoon seem to be peak times for needing to make a bit of space in the system).

I have always had nice memories of the comfortable sensations of snuggling down or curling up in a very relaxed way, with no distractions to detract from the always-enjoyable business of having a nice healthy BM. I suppose I’ve almost come to associate these pleasant sensations of being warm, comfortable and undistracted with the feeling of the soft warmth making its way out into my pants. It’s never difficult to fill your pants in these prone positions (I usually curl up and lie on my side) and the lack of effort needed - maybe just the gentlest of pushes to help things on their way - adds to the sensations of relaxation and well-being.

With my new schedule finding me alone in the flat at just this time of day - coupled with being rather tired after my increasingly-hectic university life and the added burden of a part-time evening job waitressing in a (rather nice, as it happens) Italian resaurant - I soon started to take advantage of this little piece of precious time to lie down and relax, just as I did when I was little. And what could be more natural than to complete that nostalgic picture? Especially when the spring sun is warm in the sky, and I can curl up on a rug on the tiny patch of lawn beneath the flowering cherry-tree in the privacy of my pocket-handkerchief garden, and when the inevitable consequences of my lunch - not to mention the two meals that preceeded it - find me pleasantly full?

On Tuesday, it was a perfect spring day (it’s making up for it by blowing a gale and raining like billy-ho today; this is England, after all!) So I put on my favourite short sun-dress (it’s pale turquoise blue with a flower print, and I’ve had it since I was twelve; I’ve grown up a bit since then but out hardly at all - I’m very petite for my age) and a pair of little-girl cotton knickers and went to lie down on that inviting rug. As when I was little, I took a book to read, although it was something a little bit more demanding than Winnie-the Pooh, my childhood favourite. But poo of another sort soon preoccupied me; it was bliss to just lie there, sucking my thumb nostalgically and ever-so-gently, ever-so-slowly, easing the warm, soothing softness of my BM out into my knickers.

There was a dreamlike quality to the whole episode, but also a heightened sensation of what was going on. I was somehow very aware of the soft texture of my cotton panties against my skin under that short dress - it was rucked up anyway, and as I had my back to the sun I could feel its’ warmth on my thighs. I could also feel the hot wetness in my crotch where I had just dribbled a little wee-wee, and the slight pressure of the elastic legbands around my sun-warmed thighs. All my nerve ends seemed to be tingling with anticipation as I felt my BM start to move, and as the first long, sticky shaft slid oh-so-slowly out until it nudged the inside of my knickers, the sensations in my rear were simply amazing.

I’ve never had a boy enter my rear passage for sex - yet - but I imagine that the stimulus given is very similar to what I feel when I poo my pants. You just don’t experience the same sensations when having a BM on the toilet, because with the normal gravity-assisted position and without the impedance of a pair of pants to slow the progress of the evacuation down, the whole process is over too quickly to savour. Quite a few posters to this board have described the intense pleasure of achieving a state almost of equilibrium - where the resistance of the garment is just enough to hold the BM half-in and half-out - and thus prolong the time in which the hieghtened sensations are experienced.

I love to take as long as possible doing my big jobs for exactly this reason - I think the ‘desparation’ type of knicker-messing (hold on until you bust then fill your pants in one big rush) misses out on a whole world of subtle sensations and little nuances of tactile pleasure that a more relaxed and contemplative approach makes possible. In sexual terms, it’s like comparing an in-and-out back-to-the-wall quickie with a whole night’s tender lovemaking. I know which I prefer!

There’s so much to savour in a slow, gentle relaxed BM. Especially, as on this occassion, it’s not only a good big one, but also just the right texture and consistency - akin to nice soft clay. When the tip of that first long snake of smooth, warm poo-poo collided with the seat of my panties, it slowed down even more then stopped as it pushed the soft cotton out into a nice dimple and finally a taught little peak that I felt with my fingers. I lay like that for a long minute before increasing my effort gradually, until the BM started moving again with a long, low sticky sound that I wish I could write down, but can’t. The warm softness started spreading down under me as the rest of that first lump came out. As I was lying on my left side, I could feel it all lying against the back of my left bottom cheek and sneaking down the top of my leg; the tip of it was lying just inside the elastic leg of my knickers.

I lay there for a while then, just savouring the sensation of the warmth and stickiness against my skin, trying to imagine what the back of my knickers looked like. I explored the rounded, resilient bulge in the cotton with my fingertips, remembering that this particular pair of pants had pictures of pink teddy-bears printed on the seat. They would soon be brown bears now! Then I rolled over on to my back, drew my legs up, and shuffled my hips down slightly. That had the effect of pushing my bottom firmly into the seat of my knickers, spreading the warm stickiness suddenly out beneath my. This is also a very good position for pooing in, and I was soon busy easing the second instalment of my BM out into my nice messy knickers.

The way I was lying had taughtened the material of my pants across my bottom, so I had to push a bit harder to get the rest of my BM out. This made it possible to prolongue the process even further - I would start things moving, then relax as the resistance of my knickers blocked progress; the emerging poo-job would retreat slightly, so I would lie there and savour this for a few moments before having another little strain. Gradually, half an inch at a time, with the effort needed increasing as the BM progressed, I eased, then pushed and finally forced a second big mass of warm clay-like poo-poo out into my knickers.

Because I was lying on my back, hardly anything went up behind my bottom, as it does when I mess my pants squatting or sitting. Instead, this second big mud-pie stayed right in the seat and crotch of my knickers, pressed firmly against my skin by the taught cotton. That felt wonderful; I enjoyed the contact on my sensitive skin for a long moment, then slowly lowered my legs and changed my position so that I was once again pushing my nether regions into the seat of my pants - a seat now completely full of soft warm poo. I felt the elastic of my panties pull away from my left thigh as the first lump was pushed further down the back of my leg. The warm, sticky sensation had now spread right across my bottom as I moved my hips slightly from side to side, and soon I could feel more poo squeezing out of my knickers under my right thigh. I love to feel the stickiness of my poo on the backs of my legs, and to know that the evidence of my transgression is showing at the edges of my pants.

I lay there, savouring these sensations, for about a quarter of an hour, then rolled back onto my side and - thumb in mouth - went into a sweet, dreamy doze with my pants full, just as I had so often done as a child. I slept for about half an hour, when my bladder woke me. It was really nice to come up from my little snooze to the feeling of the messy mud-pie packing my knickers. The poo felt firmer, more clay-like now - mainly because my knickers had soaked up the liquid contained in my BM, which the warm sun had then evaporated. I rolled back onto my back, spread my legs slightly, and relaxed my bladder, letting my wee-wee spurt and dribble into the crotch of my dirty drawers. I did just enough to soften my poo-poo again, enjoying a last few minutes of wiggling luxuriantly in the hot, wet stickiness in my seat. Then it was time to go indoors to inspect the damage, and start on the clean-up. I sat up, feeling the mess spread even further under me, then reluctantly got to my feet, letting my dress - still rucked-up round my waist out of harms way - drop to cover the evidence betraying the mess in my knickers.

My panties stayed stuck to my bottom as I went back into the flat, and the slippery, squashy poo worked its way up my crack as I walked. Standing looking over my shoulder, with my back to the long bathroom mirror, there was nothing to see until I cautiously raised the hem of my frock. The first thing to show was the thick smear across the back of my left leg, where the mess had squeezed an inch and more down my thigh from beneath the pink leg-trim of my panties. A smaller smear decorated my right thigh, and as I gradually lifted the dress the seat of my hapless panties was revealed, stained completely brown under my bottom and between my legs so that the pattern of pink teddy-bears could not be seen. Higher up my seat the stain was speckled and blotchy, and the poor teddy-bears were covered in a chocolate-caramel rash. To finish the job off, I stepped into the shower-tray, spread my legs, and watched in the mirror as my brown-stained pee-pee started to course slowly down my legs, growing into a hot stream that poured from the gusset of my messy knickers, spreading the stain even further. When my piddle eventuallly died away, there was no doubt whatever that little-girl Lucy had well and truly wet and messed her pants.

Big girl Lucy spent some time cleaning up, plenty of wiping followed by a long, hot shower for me, and a thorough rinse-out the hapless panties using the shower head over the toilet (I’ve got the process off pat - plenty of practice, you see) followed by a soak in a discreet bucket of nappy sanitising solution before washing. I may be messy but I’m not unhygenic! I washed my dress and the rug out just to make sure, and hung them out to dry while went off back down the hill to the campus and an afternoon job-to-stay-awake seminar on descriptive prose. I seem to be getting quite a bit of practice at writing that lately - but not on the sort of subject we normally cover at university!

Just before I sign off and devote my attentions to Katherine Mansfield being rude about the Germans, a couple of points for discussion occur to me. These are - the difference that the actual type of knickers or pants and other clothes you’re wearing make to the context and sensations of soiling (such polite English understatement!), and the nicest or most comfortable positions in which to do the deed. I have some definite ideas on these points, and if I get a chance I’ll post something on the subject soon. But now I must get on with the politically-incorrect prose of Ms Mansfield. A student’s lot is not an entirely happy one...

Lucy

Story: A First Puff

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Posted by Accidental Tourist on March 31, 1998 at 12:13

The following story is mostly fantasy. It involves an 18-year-old schoolgirl I know, who's a real piece of work: beautiful, stuck-up, and completely full of herself. The names have been changed to protect the obnoxious.

_A_First_Puff_

Erin walked out of the school building and turned toward the gate. The pretty high school senior was wearing lavender leggings under her maroon school uniform skirt, and a white blouse. He slung her bookbag over her shoulder and turned toward home. Suddenly she heard a shout.

"Erin!" It was her close friend Heather, who was standing over near the schoolyard fence with another girl, Lisa, who Erin didn't know very well. Lisa had sort of a "reputation". Erin approached the other girls apprehensively. As she drew nearer, she saw a puff of blue smoke above Lisa's head.

"What are you guys doing?" she called out, and Heather turned to shush her. Erin caught a glimpse of a cigarette in Heather's mouth. "Are you crazy?!" Erin exclaimed. "Sister Felicia is gonna catch you."

Erin came from a very strict Catholic household. She had never even dreamed of smoking, as she knew she would be punished severely if her mother or father ever found out.

"Oh don't be such a wimp!" sneered Lisa. "No one's going to catch us. I bet you've never even tried a cigarette before, have you, miss goody two-shoes!"

"I have so!" lied Erin.

"You have?!" exclaimed Heather doubtfully. "I can't believe it."

Erin felt her face flush. How was she going to get out of this lie? Without even thinking, she reached for the pack of cigarettes in Lisa's hand, shook one out and stuck it in her mouth. "Give me a light!" she drawled.

Erin took a long pull on the lit cigarette and immediately began to cough. Her head felt light, but she forced herself to inhale another lungful of smoke, and she coughed again, doubling over. Lisa and Heather started to laugh. "Told ya" said Lisa.

Just then they heard a shout. "What are you girls doing over there?!" It was Sister Felicia! Lisa turned and ran toward the gate; Heather and Erin stood frozen in place. Erin hurriedly dropped the cigarette she was holding and stepped on it.

Her head still felt funny, and in her terror, she felt her insides give a lurch. Sister Felicia strode up to them.

"Erin Connerly!" she declared. "I can't believe YOU are out here. Smoking! Shame on you. Lisa Reece I can imagine, and I'm not too surprised about you either, Heather Garrison. I'm going to call your parents right away!" She turned and
strode back toward the school building.

Erin stood speechless. What was she going to do? Her insides gave another gurgle, and she realized that she needed to shit. She walked after Sister Felicia.

"Oh, please don't call my folks!" she begged.

"Erin, I know this is going to be unpleasant for you," the nun began, "but it's for the best."

"Can I come back into the school and use the restroom?" Erin asked in a trembling voice.

"Now you're just trying to delay the inevitable, Erin. Your house isn't so far away. You go home and use the bathroom there, and face the music. I can't let you into the school building after hours, you know that."

Sadly and scared, Erin turned and walked back over to where her friend was standing. "It'll be OK, Erin," Heather comforted her. "My parents already know that I smoke; you can just tell your folks it was me and Lisa, and you were just standing there."

"I don't know," Lisa said, and began to sniffle. "That mean Sister Felicia! I also really have to go to the bathroom, and she wouldn't let me inside."

"Oh, we can go around the side of the building, behind the toolshed. You can pee there, I'll stand watch."

"No, you don't understand," Erin answered. "I have to poop.
I don't understand it, I really have to go -- the need suddenly crept up on me."

"You really haven't ever smoked before, have you?" Heather asked her.

Erin shook her head.

"Cigarettes act like a laxative, especially when you haven't smoked one in awhile. C'mon, lets hurry back to your house."

But even though Erin's house was only a short distance away, across a busy street and over a little rise, her need to poop grew more urgent with each step. As the girls approached the street, Erin gasped and clenched her pretty legs together.

"Oh, god, I have to go so badly!" she whined. "C'mon, hold on, it's not very far. You can make it!" urged Heather.

Twice on the way up the hill, Erin had to stop and attempt to gain control of her sphincter, which felt like it was going to give way to the massive load of poop straining to escape from her bowels. At the very top of the hill,
she suddenly felt the load begin to move, and it felt like it started to come out. "Unnnhh," she grunted, and a long fart escaped. Erin stopped and stood stock still.

"Eww gross," said Heather. "Come on, Erin, you can make it!"

"It felt like I almost went just there. The poop came halfway out. It's just hanging out, it's all I can do to keep it from coming out the rest of the way! Oh Heather, what am I going to do? I can't make it home! I'm going to poop in my pants! Help me! How am I going to get home in time?" Erin began to sob.

"Just get ahold of yourself," said Heather. "We'll stand here until you're ready to walk. Look, we can almost see your house."

The two girls stood there for a second, Erin scarecely daring to move. She could feel the poop hanging halfway out her ass, and gravity and her urgency working against her. After a minute, she took a tentative step forward, and
then another.

Using small mincing steps and trying to maintain the muscles of her bottom perfectly taught and steady, they proceeded toward her house again. Now she could see the house, down the hill. But walking downhill increased the pressure in Erin's bowel and she had to stop again, gasping. Another long low fart escaped, and with it, she felt a small piece of poop break off and land in the seat of her panties.

"Oh Heather, I just pooped a little more! I think it's in my pants! Oh Heather, I pooped in my pants a little bit!"

"Oh no, Erin! C'mon, it's just a few more doors. Just hold on a little bit more!"

Walking slowly and gingerly, the two girls made it to the sidewalk in front of Erin's house, when suddenly Erin stopped as a wave of urgency hit her, the strongest one yet.
"Uhhnnnhhnngg!" she groaned, and bent forward at the waist, straining to keep from completely pooping in her pants. Another long fart escaped, and she began to feel the poop move in her bowels. Gradually it began to force its way out, and try as she might, she couldn't stop it.

"Unnhggnngghh!" she groaned again, as all control over her bowels gave way and an enormous load of shit exploded into her panties. The first part of it was fairly solid, but the second wave, which she couldn't help but push out, was very liguid. The legbands of the panties couldn't contain the massive pile of shit in their seat and it began to escape and run down her legs. Heather watched in horror as brown streaks of liquid poop discolored the insides of her friends pretty thighs, running down the inside of Erin's leggings. A trickle of liquid poop appeared at Erin's ankle and dripped onto the sidewalk. Erin burst into tears.

"I shit my pants!" she sobbed. "I can't believe it, I completely shit my pants!"

Suddenly the door to Erin's house flew open, and there stood Erin's mother, tight-lipped. She glared at her daughter, and then her eyes travelled to Erin's legs and the poopy mess that was obviously showing through her pants. A look
of disbelief and horror showed on Mrs. Connerly's face.

Erin sobbed even harder, and Heather heard a faint hissing sound as Erin lost control of her bladder as well and began to wet her pants. Soon the front of Erin's lovely lavender leggings were sopping wet and she stood, humiliated, in a puddle of pee, having completely pooped and then peed in her pants.

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