My Story Part I
Posted by Nita on July 21, 1997 at 17:22:39:
My Story Part I
I'd like to tell the group a little about myself and encourage others to
do the same. Because I don't have a lot of time to write things, much of
this is an edited version of some e-mail exchanges I had a few months back
with a kind and sympathetic male correspondent.
Some comments on a story that he had written:
You perfectly captured the essence of
desperation that a woman, especially, feels in situations where her
alternatives gradually narrow down to just one, messing in her pants
in the presence of another person. If you could survey people, you
might just find that this is the ultimate embarrassment for an adult,
especially a woman. I think males are more prone to make a joke out
of these situations, although perhaps it would very embarrassing for
a guy to have such an accident in front of a woman, particularly one
he was trying to impress.
I know that I am hard pressed to think of anything in my life that
has been more embarrassing or humiliating than the first few occasions
this happened to me. (losing control, pooping in my pants by accident).
It's definitely a psychological thing, the tension is central.
The above comments were made in the light of the fact that what I find
exciting about this is the tension, the desperation. The desperation and
the suspense of whether I can wait long enough to get relief before shitting
my pants out of sheer loss of control from having had to wait so long.
It is the strenuous, but increasingly futile, efforts to avoid the inevitable
are the most important thing for me. I have to have a BM and it becomes more
amd more pressing, more and more urgent and the chance of avoiding a messy
accident in my panties diminishes steadily with the passing of every minute
not reaching a toilet.
I think there is a sort of sexual excitement to this. I'm still dealing
with exploring this stuff. I only recently admitted to myself that there
was perhaps a turnon in this in addition to the excitement of the suspense
that comes with the deperation.
I guess you could say I'm engaged in a bit of psychological exploration.
Since people almost never talk about these things, even spouses to each
other, it's nice to find someone on the web to discuss them with. I think
this sort of thing is very risky to bring up with people you know unless
you are very careful. Let me tell you what I mean. A few months ago an
opportunity arose to discuss the subject with a long-time close friend, or
rather I created the opportunity. We had dinner at her place with a nice
bottle of wine and a lot of pleasant talk. After dinner, I felt a strong urge
to poop and when I finally interrupted the conversation to excuse myself
to use her bathroom, I jokingly said "I better go to the toilet before I
poop my pants." When I came back, I said something about being glad that
I wasn't out somewhere inconveniently far from a toilet when the urge hit,
and then asked my friend "Don't you just hate it when you really have to
poop and can't find a bathroom or get there and find the stalls occupied?"
Feeling relaxed by the wine, I pressed on without waiting for her reply,
telling her that I didn't have a lot of staying power when I had to go
and sometimes even was afraid I'd soil my panties, and once (an under-
statement) actually had an accident. I paused.
She agreed that she just hated being caught short, and she also sometimes
had trouble holding it. She even admitted to having an accident once, but
didn't supply details. We joked a bit about how embarrassing it would be
to have to walk around in certain public situations with a load in your
pants. Then the conversation moved to another topic. My friend obviously
didn't share the same level of interest with me. This was just one more
personal item being shared between two women. So I didn't dare keep the
topic going to get to asking her more about her feelings and mental state
etc. when being desperate to go.
Before I go, let me say a little about early experiences and so on, I'd
like to tell some personal history (and I'd like to hear yours). I was
raised in a fairly strict family in regard to toilet training. My toilet
training was complete before the earliest time that I have any memory of,
with the exception of occasional bed wetting and occasional pants-wetting
incidents when I got caught short and just couldn't hold it. But, at the
age of 7 or 8 I had not had a BM in my pants since the completion of
toilet training, despite a habit I had developed of seeing how long I
could hold it every now and then. I remember being quite interested in
hearing of or seeing accidents in which other kids messed their pants, but
took no real interest in the pee accidents which seemed not at all unusual,
jsut a common part of growing up. An accident in which a kid pooped his
pants was something else, though; Definitely not a run-of-the-mill event.
Curiously, accidents involving kids still in toilet training were not of
much interest, mainly kids my own age.
Several short observations from that period:
1. When I was about 7 in elementary school, there were two kids in the
class who pooped their pants in the classroom in the course of the school
year, one a boy who did it once and was sent home from school for the day.
The other, a pretty, shy girl who sat in the seat in front of me and who
had numerous wetting accidents, pooped her pants twice. Both times I think
it was because she was too shy to ask to be excused from the room. Both
times she hung her head and just cried quietly. She was sent home and
everyone knew what she'd done.
2. A female cousin about the same age as me did a big mess in her pants at
a family picnic. For this she got quite a spanking from my aunt. My aunt
seemed more embarrassed than my cousin. She went around telling everyone
"she's never done this before."
3. One day I went with my mother to visit another aunt and my two cousins
who were 1 and 2 yrs. older than me. They had some kind of bug and both
had diarrhea and were making frequent trips to the toilet. When the younger
one was in for one of her bouts with the toilet, the older one was pacing
back and forth with her hands on her bum, and suddenly said very matter-of-
factly "Mom, I just did some in my pants."
4. My own first encounter with the results of waiting too long and my
avoidance of (where possible!) of using toilets other than the one at home
to poop in. This may seem strange, but I didn't have any problem using
the toilet at school, or at a friend's house etc. to pee in, but just would
not poop in them unless desperate. This fact might contain some interesting
psychological seeds. I lived near enough to the school that I walked home
for lunch, so the logistics of avoiding pooping in the school toilet were
actually feasible for a very long time. But, one day I didn't go at home
at lunch, nor during the afternoons lessons, even though I was getting pretty
uncomfortable by the end of the school day. I hadn't reached the desperation
stage when I left school to walk over to a friend's house to play some
games. As we played the games and talked and joked I felt the steadily
building urge to have a BM, but didn't or wouldn't use the toilet at my
friend's house. I was moving around, fidgeting like crazy, and I'm sure
saying silly things because my mind was not on the conversation. My memory
of this is very vivid. Have you ever had to shit so bad that you couldn't
think straight or carry on a conversation. I had reached that stage. As
the desperation mounted, I decided it was prudent to head for home (about
3 blocks) before nature took its relentless course. I told my friend I had
to go home for dinner or I'd get in trouble; she kept insisting on one
more game.
I got out the door and started to walk home, thinking "I made it. It's only
3 blocks and I can wait that long." But as soon as I started to walk I got
really bad cramps and after just half a block had to stop and catch my
breath and concentrate with everything I was worth to avoid soiling my
pants. I told myself that I was a big girl and that made it impossible for
me to make a mess in my pants. All I had to to was just keep that hole
down there closed while I walked 3 blocks. It sounded easy in principle and
I started to walk again after having fought off the first really bad series of
spasms. I heard some gurgling and the pressure eased momentarily. I wanted
to fart to ease the pressure, but didn't dare. I got to the middle of the
second block, now fully confident that I would make it home with perhaps
nothing worse to show for my folly than a brown stain in my knickers. But
suddenly I was hit with the worst cramps and spasms I had felt in my entire
8 yrs. I couldn't take a step. I knew if I moved or did anything at all
till the spasms passed I would instantly and completely fill my knickers.
The pressure just kept building and I could feel my anus twitching, quivering,
puckering. Involuntarily, I farted. It relieved a bit of the pressure, but
there was a hot wet, sticky feeling on my bottom. I had pooped myself, but
only a little, I hoped.
The pressure and cramps eased a bit and I got all the way to my front walk
without further incident. But going up the fron walk I seized up with cramps
and pressure again. And again I farted. And again it was very wet and I felt
perhaps now I had pooped in my knickers more thana bit, but still I thought
"I'm OK, nothing is running out. I'll hurry in, rush to the toilet, clean
up and nobody will know anything." Aren't we naive when we're young!
Well, as I got to the door my mother opened it and said, "Where have you been,
I've been worried when you didn't come right home from school...etc. etc."
I don't remember the rest of what she said. What I do remember is that I
just couldn't get away to go to the toilet, the cramps and spasms came again,
my mother's voice seemed very distant and unintellible as I didn't have
enough mental energy to keep control of my bowels and listen to her at the
same time. My sphincter suddenly loosened and poop just poured into my
pants and down my legs, even running over my shoes. My mother was aghast.
I said "I'm sick, Mom!" and started to sob. The rest was uneventful. My
mother helped me clean up in the shower and bought my story that I'd left
my friend's house feeling I had the flu. I got to stay home from school the
next day to "recover."
I'd appreciate the comments of anyone on the above. Sorry for the somewhat
disjointed nature of the writing. If I see e-mail addresses, I may write.
I'm reluctant to post my own hotmail address publicly till I know more about
how secure it is.
Follow Ups:
My Story Part I
I'd like to tell the group a little about myself and encourage others to
do the same. Because I don't have a lot of time to write things, much of
this is an edited version of some e-mail exchanges I had a few months back
with a kind and sympathetic male correspondent.
Some comments on a story that he had written:
You perfectly captured the essence of
desperation that a woman, especially, feels in situations where her
alternatives gradually narrow down to just one, messing in her pants
in the presence of another person. If you could survey people, you
might just find that this is the ultimate embarrassment for an adult,
especially a woman. I think males are more prone to make a joke out
of these situations, although perhaps it would very embarrassing for
a guy to have such an accident in front of a woman, particularly one
he was trying to impress.
I know that I am hard pressed to think of anything in my life that
has been more embarrassing or humiliating than the first few occasions
this happened to me. (losing control, pooping in my pants by accident).
It's definitely a psychological thing, the tension is central.
The above comments were made in the light of the fact that what I find
exciting about this is the tension, the desperation. The desperation and
the suspense of whether I can wait long enough to get relief before shitting
my pants out of sheer loss of control from having had to wait so long.
It is the strenuous, but increasingly futile, efforts to avoid the inevitable
are the most important thing for me. I have to have a BM and it becomes more
amd more pressing, more and more urgent and the chance of avoiding a messy
accident in my panties diminishes steadily with the passing of every minute
not reaching a toilet.
I think there is a sort of sexual excitement to this. I'm still dealing
with exploring this stuff. I only recently admitted to myself that there
was perhaps a turnon in this in addition to the excitement of the suspense
that comes with the deperation.
I guess you could say I'm engaged in a bit of psychological exploration.
Since people almost never talk about these things, even spouses to each
other, it's nice to find someone on the web to discuss them with. I think
this sort of thing is very risky to bring up with people you know unless
you are very careful. Let me tell you what I mean. A few months ago an
opportunity arose to discuss the subject with a long-time close friend, or
rather I created the opportunity. We had dinner at her place with a nice
bottle of wine and a lot of pleasant talk. After dinner, I felt a strong urge
to poop and when I finally interrupted the conversation to excuse myself
to use her bathroom, I jokingly said "I better go to the toilet before I
poop my pants." When I came back, I said something about being glad that
I wasn't out somewhere inconveniently far from a toilet when the urge hit,
and then asked my friend "Don't you just hate it when you really have to
poop and can't find a bathroom or get there and find the stalls occupied?"
Feeling relaxed by the wine, I pressed on without waiting for her reply,
telling her that I didn't have a lot of staying power when I had to go
and sometimes even was afraid I'd soil my panties, and once (an under-
statement) actually had an accident. I paused.
She agreed that she just hated being caught short, and she also sometimes
had trouble holding it. She even admitted to having an accident once, but
didn't supply details. We joked a bit about how embarrassing it would be
to have to walk around in certain public situations with a load in your
pants. Then the conversation moved to another topic. My friend obviously
didn't share the same level of interest with me. This was just one more
personal item being shared between two women. So I didn't dare keep the
topic going to get to asking her more about her feelings and mental state
etc. when being desperate to go.
Before I go, let me say a little about early experiences and so on, I'd
like to tell some personal history (and I'd like to hear yours). I was
raised in a fairly strict family in regard to toilet training. My toilet
training was complete before the earliest time that I have any memory of,
with the exception of occasional bed wetting and occasional pants-wetting
incidents when I got caught short and just couldn't hold it. But, at the
age of 7 or 8 I had not had a BM in my pants since the completion of
toilet training, despite a habit I had developed of seeing how long I
could hold it every now and then. I remember being quite interested in
hearing of or seeing accidents in which other kids messed their pants, but
took no real interest in the pee accidents which seemed not at all unusual,
jsut a common part of growing up. An accident in which a kid pooped his
pants was something else, though; Definitely not a run-of-the-mill event.
Curiously, accidents involving kids still in toilet training were not of
much interest, mainly kids my own age.
Several short observations from that period:
1. When I was about 7 in elementary school, there were two kids in the
class who pooped their pants in the classroom in the course of the school
year, one a boy who did it once and was sent home from school for the day.
The other, a pretty, shy girl who sat in the seat in front of me and who
had numerous wetting accidents, pooped her pants twice. Both times I think
it was because she was too shy to ask to be excused from the room. Both
times she hung her head and just cried quietly. She was sent home and
everyone knew what she'd done.
2. A female cousin about the same age as me did a big mess in her pants at
a family picnic. For this she got quite a spanking from my aunt. My aunt
seemed more embarrassed than my cousin. She went around telling everyone
"she's never done this before."
3. One day I went with my mother to visit another aunt and my two cousins
who were 1 and 2 yrs. older than me. They had some kind of bug and both
had diarrhea and were making frequent trips to the toilet. When the younger
one was in for one of her bouts with the toilet, the older one was pacing
back and forth with her hands on her bum, and suddenly said very matter-of-
factly "Mom, I just did some in my pants."
4. My own first encounter with the results of waiting too long and my
avoidance of (where possible!) of using toilets other than the one at home
to poop in. This may seem strange, but I didn't have any problem using
the toilet at school, or at a friend's house etc. to pee in, but just would
not poop in them unless desperate. This fact might contain some interesting
psychological seeds. I lived near enough to the school that I walked home
for lunch, so the logistics of avoiding pooping in the school toilet were
actually feasible for a very long time. But, one day I didn't go at home
at lunch, nor during the afternoons lessons, even though I was getting pretty
uncomfortable by the end of the school day. I hadn't reached the desperation
stage when I left school to walk over to a friend's house to play some
games. As we played the games and talked and joked I felt the steadily
building urge to have a BM, but didn't or wouldn't use the toilet at my
friend's house. I was moving around, fidgeting like crazy, and I'm sure
saying silly things because my mind was not on the conversation. My memory
of this is very vivid. Have you ever had to shit so bad that you couldn't
think straight or carry on a conversation. I had reached that stage. As
the desperation mounted, I decided it was prudent to head for home (about
3 blocks) before nature took its relentless course. I told my friend I had
to go home for dinner or I'd get in trouble; she kept insisting on one
more game.
I got out the door and started to walk home, thinking "I made it. It's only
3 blocks and I can wait that long." But as soon as I started to walk I got
really bad cramps and after just half a block had to stop and catch my
breath and concentrate with everything I was worth to avoid soiling my
pants. I told myself that I was a big girl and that made it impossible for
me to make a mess in my pants. All I had to to was just keep that hole
down there closed while I walked 3 blocks. It sounded easy in principle and
I started to walk again after having fought off the first really bad series of
spasms. I heard some gurgling and the pressure eased momentarily. I wanted
to fart to ease the pressure, but didn't dare. I got to the middle of the
second block, now fully confident that I would make it home with perhaps
nothing worse to show for my folly than a brown stain in my knickers. But
suddenly I was hit with the worst cramps and spasms I had felt in my entire
8 yrs. I couldn't take a step. I knew if I moved or did anything at all
till the spasms passed I would instantly and completely fill my knickers.
The pressure just kept building and I could feel my anus twitching, quivering,
puckering. Involuntarily, I farted. It relieved a bit of the pressure, but
there was a hot wet, sticky feeling on my bottom. I had pooped myself, but
only a little, I hoped.
The pressure and cramps eased a bit and I got all the way to my front walk
without further incident. But going up the fron walk I seized up with cramps
and pressure again. And again I farted. And again it was very wet and I felt
perhaps now I had pooped in my knickers more thana bit, but still I thought
"I'm OK, nothing is running out. I'll hurry in, rush to the toilet, clean
up and nobody will know anything." Aren't we naive when we're young!
Well, as I got to the door my mother opened it and said, "Where have you been,
I've been worried when you didn't come right home from school...etc. etc."
I don't remember the rest of what she said. What I do remember is that I
just couldn't get away to go to the toilet, the cramps and spasms came again,
my mother's voice seemed very distant and unintellible as I didn't have
enough mental energy to keep control of my bowels and listen to her at the
same time. My sphincter suddenly loosened and poop just poured into my
pants and down my legs, even running over my shoes. My mother was aghast.
I said "I'm sick, Mom!" and started to sob. The rest was uneventful. My
mother helped me clean up in the shower and bought my story that I'd left
my friend's house feeling I had the flu. I got to stay home from school the
next day to "recover."
I'd appreciate the comments of anyone on the above. Sorry for the somewhat
disjointed nature of the writing. If I see e-mail addresses, I may write.
I'm reluctant to post my own hotmail address publicly till I know more about
how secure it is.
Follow Ups:
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