Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Another true story
I was going out with a girl called Tracy, she was 19 I was 22 she had nice legs
And bum, she always wore reasonably short skirts, I never indicated at any point I liked girls farting
It is my point if you are a guy and you fart you make a joke etc about it, but girls seem to fart and
Tell you as if it is to tease you or something, we would lie on the bed sometimes in my bedsit face down to watch the TV with our head in our hands as you do, this day she was wearing a shortest skirt and tight lacy panties. Without any encouragement she lifted her hips and farted, girl’s farts are always sloppy or airy I find this was hissy and airy. As I say she had no idea of my fetish but she farted and made it obvious, she said that was a hot one. I was young and not confident as I am now so said nothing although was getting off on it , every about 20 minutes she would fart again really egg ones , I made a joke that she was going to stain her knickers if she carried on and lifted the back of her skirt to have a look jokingly , what a site I knew I would get to fuck her as we fucked every time we met , but I did not have the balls to say I was getting turned on by her farts , her knickers were riding as girls knickers always do and her bum cheeks were divided by a thin strip of cotton . She farted again at the same time digging her knickers out of her bum she even said her last boyfriend liked her farting on him but still I could not be honest, she obviously teasing as her last boyfriend liked it she assumed I would.
I slid my finger into her pussy, she was very young and tight, for some reason I always fucked her without a condom which later explained her worry when I fucked her I thought she didn’t fancy me much or something, I was so horny after the farting, I put my throbbing cock in her pussy without taking her knickers of from behind so I could admire her arse some, I was hoping she would fart again but no luck, tightest pussy vie ever had though it really gripped your cock. Anyway she blew me out the next time and was distant with me for some reason we worked together so it was awkward , we went for lunch over the park together and I was feeling horny , even more so as I thought there would be no more sex with her , this day she had on black clingy work trousers and knickers reasonably visible through the trousers , not a tease but I don’t think some girls realize what there bum looks like to the rest of the world , but I like vpl so was driving me mad , I tried to feel her bum and she said please don’t , when I get back she said I’m going to need a poo touching my bum will make it come out sooner so leave it alone she said coldly she was trying to turn me of sex by talking about needing a poo , as I had not mentioned when she was farting before I liked it she assumed it would stop my sexual advances , but was driving me mad . Every time I got near her she would do a smelly pre-poo fart, with an apology for the smell etc, I know she was not lying about needing a poo as her farts were rich and meaty as they are when backed up with poo. She knew I liked her arse so kept it on her seat pointed away from me, occasionally lifting her cheek to fart. I’m going to have to go soon, the end of my poo is touching my knickers, and she was being really crude to turn me of wanting sex.
I m sorry vie got to go she said and stood up , she picked her knickers out of her bum and put her hand up against her arsehole as to stop an accident , sorry see you back at the office , she actually farted on her hand and went oooohhh that’s gross .
Anyway back at the office she was back from the toilet and mentioned as to disgust me that she had, been in the toilet for 10 minutes and had pooped a lot and it reeked in the toilet, I went to grab her bum as I always did before and she moved don’t do that, I’m still gassy and its gross.
Anyway I decided to give her the cold shoulder the rest of the week , this seemed to stir things up as she , started making sexual comments again , she knew I liked panties so would bend over the desk showing me great vpl under her work trousers etc , she finally said she was horny and need to be fucked I said why have you been ignoring me before , she said that she fancied me big time but was worried I would get her pregnant as I would not wear a condom , but she had decided she was so missing the sex she did not care anymore , I made a comment about if I fucked her was she going to poop on me , she admitted she had done that to turn me of that day , anyway we couldn’t wait so we went into the stock room on the top floor and I fucked her from behind , as usual with her panties still on , I really missed an opportunity as I think she would have farted on me if I had wanted but never got the guts to say so split up and regret this to this day .
Monday, August 22, 2011
Story: Carol poops her pants
Carol had traveled all day on airplane. She had urge to
poop already in the morning, but she had been really hurry
to catch the plane. She tought she'd go in the plane.
But when she was sitting in the plane, she noticed
her urge was gone. So she desided to take a nap, since
her last night was guite wild.
So, now she has just got out of the airport to get
a taxi. No taxis available. "Ok, it's only 5 kilometres,
and I have no lugage, so I'll walk."
Now there was quite a pressure inside of her bum. She had
to slow down her walking or she would lose some of it
in her a bit loose jeans -covered panties.
"Ooh, come on, just a couple of kilometers to go. Uh..-"
But she couldn't resist the force inside of her. Suddenly
she stopped. A little of soft poop had found it's way
into her panties.
"Oh shit!"
She looked around. There was noone, only some cars
driving along the street. She tried to go on walking.
Step, a little more poop into her panties.
"I can't move, or I'll totally loose it."
Again she looked around. Nobody.
"Ok. I'll let loose, maybe noone will notice, 'cause
I have this long coat."
She loosened her back of her panties from her ass
a bit. Then she didn't have to even push, but more like
just let it go.
"Uh, jesus!"
There was a strong liquid farting sound as huge amount
of really soft poop explode into her panties. She put
her hand to her butt as reaction, but it didn't help.
She could only feel warm bulge forming between her
legs and ass cheeks.
"Something wrong, m'am?" asked a mans voice from a car
that had stopped beside Carol. Carol shocked.
"Uuh...uh...nothing. Allright now" She hardly got a word
out of her mouth. She noticed something more being wrong:
She had started to empty her bladder because of the
shock. Quikly she started to walk on, and the car drove away.
Now the pee still poured into her panties making the
poop even softer. Carol was only about 100 metres from
her homedoor. She got very exited of this extraordinary
situation. She had pooped and peed into her pants, but
she felt good.
"Finally home!"
But instead of going to bathroom to clean herself up she
went to livingroom, throwing her all other clothes
but jeans and panties all around. She jumped to sofa
and started masturbating herself. She squeezed the poop
in her pants and then she came.
She woke up two hours later as the doorbell rang.
"Oh my god, it's Ann! We were supposed to go to pub
tonight!"
She couldn't do anything as Ann came in.
"Hi Carol! The door was open, so I... What happened to
you Carol!!?"
To be continued?
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Zero Tolerance byDrewThomas©
It's a Friday, just after midnight, several years ago. I'm looking down at a head-turningly attractive blonde who's kneeling on my Person rug, wearing nothing but a black leather collar locked around her neck and a gleaming jeweled chain leash that runs between her perfectly-formed B-cup breasts on its way to the floor. As I take in the view, a single thought echoes through my mind: "How did I fuck this up so badly?"
At age 25, having just moved to LA and started to explore the local BDSM community, I already had a few years of experience as a dominant in serious relationships, but this was my first time playing with a submissive in a more casual context. Kat and I had already spoken at length about her need for total control and strict discipline, but she was a few years younger, brand new to BDSM, and we had only just met.
The evening began fairly casually with our favorite HBO show, a nice bottle of Malbec, and the best pizza in Hollywood. When it was playtime and I told her to kneel and strip, Kat kept that tone going with some jokes and nervous laughter. I decided to let that slide until she felt more comfortable. Ditto for when she kept forgetting to call me "Sir," which is a fairly standard rule in BDSM play. I was just as accommodating when she told me to wait while she kept self-consciously fixing her hair, and by the time I had her chained to the front of the couch for some blowjob training, she was rolling her eyes and making 'Whatever' faces when I gave her instructions. At this point, the wheels had come off, and I knew it was my fault. But how had I gone so far off track?
Broken Windows
My plan for the evening was focused more on making sure this sweet and inexperienced 20-year-old didn't have a bad first experience than on providing her with an amazing one. I wanted to earn her trust by demonstrating I'd always respect her limits and keep her safe, never pushing her farther than I knew she could go. Problem was, by letting so many little things slide, I allowed her to dictate the pace and tone of the entire session—exactly the opposite of the power dynamic we both wanted.
While dissecting the smelly corpse of this sorry effort, I remembered an article I had read about something called the Broken Windows Theory. First introduced in the 80s, it asserts that serious felonies like murder, muggings, and illegal drug sales are much more likely to occur in areas with a high prevalence of petty crimes like vandalism and prostitution. This correlation suggested to many politicians and criminologists, including then mayor of New York City Rudy Giuliani, that the perceived tolerance of petty infractions emboldens people to commit more and more serious crimes.
This gave Rudy an idea: what if we were to crack down on petty crimes all over the city, arresting hookers and public pissers, painting over graffiti, and fixing those windows as soon as they're smashed? He directed his chief of police to do just that, and by the mid-90s, this policy of 'zero tolerance' contributed to the steepest drop in crime rates ever recorded in a major urban area. New York City, once widely considered "ungovernable," soon became the safest metropolis in the world. Like Rudy, I immediately recognized the applications of zero tolerance to another high-crime area: my living room floor.
A New Sheriff in Town
When Kat accepted my invitation for a Round 2, I was determined to lay down the law. We started with dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant. When we got back to my place, I told her to kneel and strip before I even closed the door. I tied her arms snugly in my favorite position, folded behind her back with no way of protecting her girl parts, then I read her the riot act. I told her she'd speak only when spoken to, always addressing me as "Sir." She'd keep her eyes forward, her legs spread, her pussy fully exposed and accessible for my use. She'd adjust any aspect of her appearance only when instructed. If she had hair in her mouth or trapped in her collar or gag strap, I explained, she'd just have to fucking deal with it.
Then I asked her if she understood. She nodded. Woops—mistake #1. I immediately grabbed her hair, pushed her face to the floor, held it there with my boot, and started spanking her. Hard. First she moaned. Then she whimpered. When she started squirming, I told her to hold her ass perfectly still or I'd switch to the paddle. Her ass turned pink, then red. Before long, her whimpers turned to sniffles, and I knew I had her right where I wanted her. Grabbing the back of her collar, I tugged her trembling body back up to the kneeling position and asked her again if she understood my rules. "Yes, Sir." I nodded my approval, then reached down between her legs for a humidity check. Wow, I thought. Mission accomplished.
Kat's performance improved dramatically over the next few hours. She did need a firm 'reminder' from time to time with one implement or another, and as unpleasant as that was for her, I could tell she was as turned on as I was.
Body of Work
Michelangelo once wrote, "In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me... I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to other eyes as mine see it." As I've known ever since my first kinky experiences in college, the greatest challenge and thrill of BDSM lies in chipping away at the conditioned habits and attitudes of a girl whose body and sensations I fully control, ultimately revealing her inner slut in all its obedient and insatiable splendor.
Every girlfriend, submissive, and casual play partner since then has taught me something valuable. From Kat, I learned that the full realization of a Dom/sub dynamic is the result of a thousand decisions, each involving seemingly frivolous yet critical details, meticulously integrated into a work of art far greater than the sum of its parts. Still, it would be egotistical and incorrect for me to take much credit for the outcome. I didn't create Kat's inner slut, it was there all along. All I did was chip away the excess, and both of us enjoyed the process as much as the finished product.
At age 25, having just moved to LA and started to explore the local BDSM community, I already had a few years of experience as a dominant in serious relationships, but this was my first time playing with a submissive in a more casual context. Kat and I had already spoken at length about her need for total control and strict discipline, but she was a few years younger, brand new to BDSM, and we had only just met.
The evening began fairly casually with our favorite HBO show, a nice bottle of Malbec, and the best pizza in Hollywood. When it was playtime and I told her to kneel and strip, Kat kept that tone going with some jokes and nervous laughter. I decided to let that slide until she felt more comfortable. Ditto for when she kept forgetting to call me "Sir," which is a fairly standard rule in BDSM play. I was just as accommodating when she told me to wait while she kept self-consciously fixing her hair, and by the time I had her chained to the front of the couch for some blowjob training, she was rolling her eyes and making 'Whatever' faces when I gave her instructions. At this point, the wheels had come off, and I knew it was my fault. But how had I gone so far off track?
Broken Windows
My plan for the evening was focused more on making sure this sweet and inexperienced 20-year-old didn't have a bad first experience than on providing her with an amazing one. I wanted to earn her trust by demonstrating I'd always respect her limits and keep her safe, never pushing her farther than I knew she could go. Problem was, by letting so many little things slide, I allowed her to dictate the pace and tone of the entire session—exactly the opposite of the power dynamic we both wanted.
While dissecting the smelly corpse of this sorry effort, I remembered an article I had read about something called the Broken Windows Theory. First introduced in the 80s, it asserts that serious felonies like murder, muggings, and illegal drug sales are much more likely to occur in areas with a high prevalence of petty crimes like vandalism and prostitution. This correlation suggested to many politicians and criminologists, including then mayor of New York City Rudy Giuliani, that the perceived tolerance of petty infractions emboldens people to commit more and more serious crimes.
This gave Rudy an idea: what if we were to crack down on petty crimes all over the city, arresting hookers and public pissers, painting over graffiti, and fixing those windows as soon as they're smashed? He directed his chief of police to do just that, and by the mid-90s, this policy of 'zero tolerance' contributed to the steepest drop in crime rates ever recorded in a major urban area. New York City, once widely considered "ungovernable," soon became the safest metropolis in the world. Like Rudy, I immediately recognized the applications of zero tolerance to another high-crime area: my living room floor.
A New Sheriff in Town
When Kat accepted my invitation for a Round 2, I was determined to lay down the law. We started with dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant. When we got back to my place, I told her to kneel and strip before I even closed the door. I tied her arms snugly in my favorite position, folded behind her back with no way of protecting her girl parts, then I read her the riot act. I told her she'd speak only when spoken to, always addressing me as "Sir." She'd keep her eyes forward, her legs spread, her pussy fully exposed and accessible for my use. She'd adjust any aspect of her appearance only when instructed. If she had hair in her mouth or trapped in her collar or gag strap, I explained, she'd just have to fucking deal with it.
Then I asked her if she understood. She nodded. Woops—mistake #1. I immediately grabbed her hair, pushed her face to the floor, held it there with my boot, and started spanking her. Hard. First she moaned. Then she whimpered. When she started squirming, I told her to hold her ass perfectly still or I'd switch to the paddle. Her ass turned pink, then red. Before long, her whimpers turned to sniffles, and I knew I had her right where I wanted her. Grabbing the back of her collar, I tugged her trembling body back up to the kneeling position and asked her again if she understood my rules. "Yes, Sir." I nodded my approval, then reached down between her legs for a humidity check. Wow, I thought. Mission accomplished.
Kat's performance improved dramatically over the next few hours. She did need a firm 'reminder' from time to time with one implement or another, and as unpleasant as that was for her, I could tell she was as turned on as I was.
Body of Work
Michelangelo once wrote, "In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me... I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to other eyes as mine see it." As I've known ever since my first kinky experiences in college, the greatest challenge and thrill of BDSM lies in chipping away at the conditioned habits and attitudes of a girl whose body and sensations I fully control, ultimately revealing her inner slut in all its obedient and insatiable splendor.
Every girlfriend, submissive, and casual play partner since then has taught me something valuable. From Kat, I learned that the full realization of a Dom/sub dynamic is the result of a thousand decisions, each involving seemingly frivolous yet critical details, meticulously integrated into a work of art far greater than the sum of its parts. Still, it would be egotistical and incorrect for me to take much credit for the outcome. I didn't create Kat's inner slut, it was there all along. All I did was chip away the excess, and both of us enjoyed the process as much as the finished product.
Monday, August 15, 2011
From Zeta Reproduced from "Wet Set" magazine by kind permission of the publishers. Wet Set, P O Box 392 Turramurra, NSW 2074, Australia.
Letters from Readers:
"My wife Karen was very uninhibited when it came to sex or masturbation,
and a touch on the kinky side. We've been separated now for one year and
I five on my own at the moment. I prefer it that way although we still
see each other and have remained good friends. Anyway, it was her that
started my fetish for wearing nappies. One night she went to bed early,
and I came in about 20 minutes later and beard her groaning. I thought
she was having a dream, but when I got into bed I found she was
masturbating. She had folded a soft fleecy nappy and was rubbing it up
and down while holding each end firmly.
She looked over to me with a big smile and said how wonderful it felt.
She had peed into the nappy first and it was really quite soaked. She
then turned on her side and wrapped the wet nappy around my hard-on and
masturbated me. The thought of her weeing and then coming on the nappy
made me come within a minute. Then she asked if I wanted to piss as
well, and although I had just been to the loo and my bladder was empty,
just the thought turned me on again.
Karen suggested we get up again and drink some beer that I had in the
fridge. After about an hour of drinking and discussing the subject we
were both quite excited, as it was something we had not done before. She
put the plastic table cloth over the mattress and remade the bed while I
brought more drinks into the bedroom. She laid a large fluffy bath towel
on the bed with some safety pins, and after laying, on it face up, she
told me to lie on top of her. After some effort we managed to pin the
towel around both of us, but even though by then the urge to piss was
extreme, I was hard again and couldn't relax enough to let it flow.
Karen picked the wet nappy up from the dresser and put it to her face,
and then to mine. By then I was inside her and felt little trickles of
her warm pee as she tried to push it out. Then it came from her in a
gush, and I came too but did not piss. She was so horny, and pleaded for
me to piss inside her, and asked me to push the wet nappy in her mouth
and to fill her up with piss. I gently put one end of the nappy in her
mouth, but she opened wider to get more in. As she put the other end
into my mouth I finally let go, and she had the most intense orgasm as I
filled her pussy with my hot piss.
That became a weekly event for some time, and on other nights we would
both wear nappies to bed. This part of our lives was the best - it was
everything else which went wrong and caused our split. Karen still calls
in and collects my nappies and washes them when she does hers. I found a
note between the folded nappies she returned just two days ago saying
how much she missed our weekly piss nights together, and asked whether
I'd mind if she called around this Saturday night. She said she had a
novel idea for me to piss into her bum and give her a golden enema! Just
the thought made me hard, so I masturbated there and then with a wet
nappy I had just filled. I can't wait until Saturday night. - Mark,
Hobart
***
Over the past few years I have become a real freak, for messing my
panties. I've read a little about this in your magazine but I am sure
that I'm not the only woman who enjoys having a load in her panties. For
years the thought had crossed my mind, especially when I could scarcely
hold it in, but about five years ago I accidentally messed myself when
trying desperately to get inside my house. I lost a bit and then thought
that I might as well finish, so I emptied myself completely into my
pants. There I was standing at my door having filled my pants like a
baby. I felt quite strange but also very hot. I sat down on the edge of
the bath and felt the mess ooze around me, up my back and over my pussy.
Despite all the mess I masturbated furiously and came stronger than ever
before.
From that moment on I was hooked. I've been messing my panties a couple
of tines a week ever since but never tire of it. When I'm planning dirty
panties I usually wear either my plain full briefs which can take quite
a load, or some sexy lace bikinis and a pair of clear plastic pants over
the top. After I've been in the dirty pants for about 30 minutes I
masturbate usually with my vibrator. It's when I'm like this that I
really want a guy's cock to take me from the rear without cleaning, up
first. No luck so far, but perhaps other pantie poopers have had better
luck! - Sue, Victoria
***
It was a very pleasant surprise to discover your magazine. I have been
searching for such a publication for a long time. I admire your courage
to cover this taboo subject. My impression is that probably a large
proportion of populations, particularly western cultures would be
fascinated or turned on by wetting.
I think my turning point in becoming an active pants wetter was when my
mother told me it was OK to piddle in your bathers when you're in the
sea. I was about 8 years old at the time. My first known orgasm was as a
teenager when I was trying to wet the bed just a bit) for the first
time. You see I went to the loo just before bed but left a little bit,
just to see what it would feel like. After squeezing the last bit out
and rubbing my undies for a while, it happened - the first orgasm, and a
really good one too. After a few days I realised what the experience
was.
You see I wasn't taught much about sex as a child. I am now 26 years old
and have been married and divorced. The bedwetting and pants wetting is
now my main sex activity. I am strictly heterosexual, and figure that
one day I'll find a suitable partner. In the meantime however, your
publication is a Godsend.
Thank you and good luck. - C.J., Victoria
Sunday, August 14, 2011
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Saturday, August 13, 2011
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