“Are you not feeling well?” asked Alan in concern.
“I'll be all right,” said Daisy with a slightly forced smile. “I really need to use the toilet though. Can I do that before take-off, do you think?”
“I'm not sure,” replied Alan. “You should ask one of the flight attendants.”
Daisy chewed at her lip anxiously. “We might be taking off pretty soon. I'd hate to hold everyone up. Perhaps I'll just wait until we're in the air.”
“Probably best,” agreed Alan.
But after sitting in her seat for fifteen minutes, with the discomfort in her stomach and bowels growing by the moment, Daisy finally decided that she simply had to go to the toilet. As she unfastened her seatbelt, however, she heard a flight attendant's amplified voice announcing preparations for take-off. The plane began to move, and the safety presentation began.
Five minutes later, they had reached the end of the runway, but two other planes were waiting ahead. As more minutes ticked by, Daisy became increasingly desperate. She kept hoping that one of the flight attendants would walk by so that she could ask if it would be possible to use the toilet, but it seemed that the attendants were all in their seats.
After what felt like an eternity to Daisy, the plane finally turned on to the runway, started to pick up speed, and took off. Daisy, her buttocks slippery with sweat inside her panties, began to get a cramp from clenching so hard and for so long, and instead tried pressing her anus against the seat in order to prevent her poo from coming out. Immediately she felt her anal sphincter expanding wide as a thick column of poo tried to force its way out into her panties, but it was soon stopped by the seat. As more pressure built up from behind, the head of the turd flattened and spread out, further expanding Daisy's anus until it was a painful two inches in diameter.
As the plane levelled off and the seatbelt sign was turned off, Alan turned to his wife and said, “Now's your chance, honey.”
But Daisy did not move; indeed, she could not. “It's too late!” she whispered frantically. “Only the seat is holding it in place. If I get up, it's all going to come out!”
“Jeez!” replied Alan in alarm. “Well, you're going to have to get up eventually – might as well make it sooner rather than later.”
“But we're going to be in the air for two hours!” said Daisy. “If I'm going to embarrass myself, I'd rather it were at the end of the flight rather than at the beginning.”
“Are you going to be comfortable sitting there for the next two hours?” asked Alan pointedly.
“No,” Daisy admitted. “This is torture, pretty much.”
“Then for heaven's sake just bite the bullet and go!” said Alan.
But Daisy stubbornly remained in her seat for the next ten minutes, while the pressure in her bowels grew and she became still more uncomfortable. Eventually, gasping in pain, she said, “It's no good! I can't bear it any more! I have to let it out!”
“Hallelujah!” said Alan, unbuckling his seatbelt as he prepared to get up. But at that moment the plane lurched, and the seatbelt sign came back on.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” came a voice over the speaker, as the plane continued to bounce around in a rather unsettling manner. “We are encountering some turbulence, and it could last for a few minutes. Please remain in your seats until we are through it.”
“Oh God!” exclaimed Daisy, aghast. “I can't stay in my seat a moment longer! I just HAVE to get to the toilet!”
“Well you can't right now,” said Alan firmly. “And we can't even ask for special consideration – the flight attendants have all gone to their seats.”
“Then summon one!” said Daisy desperately. “I'm about to explode here!”
Alan sighed, and pressed the button to summon an attendant. A moment later, a disgruntled-looking uniformed man came staggering down the aisle. A badge on his lapel bore the name Gary. “Yes?” he said.
“My wife needs to use the toilet urgently,” said Alan.
“She'll have to wait,” snapped Gary.
“I don't think that's possible,” said Alan. “Look at her – she's about to have an accident!”
The attendant stared unsympathetically at Daisy, who was now doubled over and whimpering. “She should have gone before we hit the turbulence,” he said. “She had plenty of time to do so. Now she'll just have to wait a couple more minutes. If she has an accident in the meantime, frankly, it's her own fault.” And with that, he turned and weaved his way erratically back towards his seat.
Daisy straightened up, now very red in the face. “I have to let it out, Alan!” she sobbed. “I'm sorry!”
“I know,” said Alan understandingly. He looked around unhappily at the other passengers, then he turned back and said, “Go for it. We'll just deal with the consequences afterwards.”
“Oh thank you!” said Daisy, glad to have her husband's support. She lifted her bottom off the seat, and relaxed.
But there was no sudden rush of poo from her anus, as she had expected. Surprised, she strained hard, trying to force her poo out, but still it would not come. It occurred to her that perhaps she had held it in for so long that it had become compressed into a dense, solid mass which was too big to pass through her anus, and she groaned in pain and misery.
“It's not coming!” she wailed. “I've waited too long and it's too big!”
“Oh no!” said Alan. “Can you try a different position?”
“Not without removing my seatbelt!” replied Daisy.
“Then remove it!” said Alan. “It's not like they'll be coming around to check while the turbulence is still happening.”
Daisy hurriedly uncoupled her seatbelt, then she stood up and lifted her feet up on to the seat, squatting as she bore down again. But in this position, her tight denim shorts were pressing against her bottom and allowing no room for the expulsion of poo. “I need to take my shorts off!” she muttered, fumbling at the button on her waistband.
“Oh goodness,” said Alan nervously as he watched her unzipping and then pulling down her shorts. He glanced across the aisle and smiled apologetically at a middle-aged couple, who were staring at Daisy in puzzlement and disapproval.
Having stepped out of her shorts, Daisy climbed back on to her seat, squatted, and strained again. But even with no shorts, and pushing as hard as she could, she could not expel the monstrous poo lodged in her rectum. “Ohhh!” she fretted, desperate for a release from the pressure in her bowels. Heedless of the scene she was causing – for now several faces were turned in her direction – she turned to face the window and lifted her bottom up until it was almost on the same level as Alan's head.
“Grrrrrrnnnnnhhhhhhh!!!!” she grunted, squeezing her buttocks together in an attempt to squish her poo and force it through her distended anus. To her great relief, she felt the behemoth start to move, and as its thick head began to slide out into her panties, she could not help gasping excitedly, “It's coming, it's coming!”
Alan recoiled with a shudder as Daisy's white cotton panties, just inches from his face, rapidly tented outwards. Six, eight, ten inches of her turd slid slowly out of her rectum, and the elastic seams of her panties pulled away from her skin, so that he could actually see inside and observe the brown lumpy pole extruding from between her buttocks.
Then the thick turd slowly bent to one side, and folded as Daisy forced more and more poo into her panties. The tent became a knobbly bulge which continued to expand unevenly, growing to the size of a large grapefruit, and then to the size of an average-sized melon as its edges began to push past the leg-bands of her panties.
“Whew!” exclaimed Daisy, as she pushed out the last of her poo. “God, I feel so much better!” But as her anus slowly closed up and she recovered from her exertions, the enormity of her outrageous deed began to sink in. “Oh God,” she muttered, turning around to see at least a dozen shocked faces staring at her. Feeling suddenly mortified beyond words, she quickly sat down, only to catch herself with her elbows as her poo started to squish beneath her. “Ugh, is there an awful lot?” she whispered to Alan, her cheeks now bright red with embarrassment rather than from effort.
“It's huge,” admitted Alan, nodding. “You probably shouldn't put your weight on it.”
The turbulence had subsided by now, and Gary was making his way back down the aisle towards them. “You can go to the toilet now...” he began, but then he frowned as he sniffed the air. “Oh ... My ... God!” he exclaimed. “You really had an accident, didn't you?”
“Yes!” said Daisy, getting up from her seat.
But as Gary saw her bulging panties, with no clothing covering them, he stared at her, aghast. “You can't go marching down the aisle like that!” he said.
“Well what am I supposed to do?” inquired Daisy peevishly. “It's not like I can put my shorts back on while I'm like this!”
“Wait here,” said Gary. “I need a second opinion.”
He disappeared down the aisle, and returned a moment later with an older, female flight attendant whose name, according to her badge, was Shirley. She took one look at Daisy's panties, and practically retched.
“Oh my God, that's so gross!” she exclaimed. “Gary, throw a blanket around her and take her to the toilet, will you?”
Gary wrinkled his nose. “But look how much poo there is! Won't it block up the toilet?”
“Of course not, Gary,” she said. “The suction is plenty powerful enough even for ... that much.”
“All right then,” grumbled Gary.
Other passengers were by this time starting to complain quite loudly about the smell. Gary attempted to pacify them as he fetched a blanket for Daisy. “I know it's disgusting,” he said to one particularly vocal woman. “We're dealing with the situation as fast as we can.”
He brought a blanket back to where Daisy was standing, embarrassed, with her hands clasped modestly in front of her panties. She was facing into the aisle, with her panty-bulge pointing toward the window seat where her husband was sitting, but since she was standing in the aisle, her accident could still be seen by several other passengers. She took the blanket gratefully and wrapped it around her waist.
At that moment the plane lurched, and Shirley and Gary looked at each other. There was a 'bing' as the seatbelt lights came back on. “Oh dear,” said Gary to Daisy, with a slight smirk. “Please take your seat, ma'am. We appear to have hit more turbulence.”
“But I can't sit down like this!” said Daisy anxiously.
“I'm afraid you'll have to,” said Shirley, staggering slightly as the plane lurched again. “And fasten your seatbelt!”
Alan smiled sympathetically as Daisy sat down with an unhappy grimace. “Bad luck,” he said.
Daisy shuddered at the sensation of her buttocks and pussy squishing into her warm poo. She fastened her seatbelt, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “I'm so sorry about this, darling,” she muttered.
“Well at least the blanket will keep your seat from getting messy,” he said.
“Yes, but I'm sure half my poo has probably been forced out of my panties,” said Daisy. “When I get up again, I dread to think what will happen!”
“Oh dear!” said Alan in concern. “Well the turbulence may not last long; perhaps we should figure out what you're going to do when they let you go to the toilet.”
Daisy sighed. “Yes, I suppose I should check out the damage...” She unwrapped the blanket from around her thighs, untucked it at her waist, and opened it up to see what was going on with the poo in her panties. She was quite surprised to find that not very much of it had escaped.
“Hmm, not as bad as I'd expected,” she said.
The plane was now bouncing around quite severely with the worst bit of turbulence yet. Nearby, somebody threw up into a paper bag.
Then something more alarming happened: the noise of the plane changed its tone. “What the heck was that?” Alan wondered nervously aloud.
The captain's voice came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some technical difficulties resulting from the heavy turbulence. Nothing to worry about, but we may need to divert the plane to another airport. I will keep you all posted, and I apologise for the inconvenience.”
“Divert?” exclaimed Alan in dismay. “To where, for heaven's sake?”
“I think that's the least of our worries,” said Daisy anxiously. “I think we just lost one of our engines ... and this plane only has two!”
The plane seemed to be losing altitude as the captain's voice came back on. “Sorry about this, folks – we're going to be landing shortly at Santa Rosa airport. Not where any of us wanted to be, I know, but it's a necessary safety precaution.”
Many of the passengers were looking quite distressed by this point. But as the plane continued to descend, there were no further disturbing sounds, and the turbulence had abated almost completely.
Daisy and Alan watched the ground getting steadily nearer. Then the pilot announced, “Folks, our landing could be a little bumpy. As a safety precaution, please adopt a brace-for-impact position. Place your right hand on top of the seat in front of you, and grasp your right wrist with your left hand. Lean forward with your head in the cradle thus formed by your arms, resting against the seat in front of you...”
As he continued to give instructions, Daisy turned wide eyes toward her husband. “He wants us to get in the crash position!” she whispered frantically. “Oh my God!”
“I'm sure it's just standard procedure in the event of a forced landing,” said Alan, but he himself felt very uneasy.
“I don't want to die with my panties full of poo!” Daisy exclaimed.
“Hush!” said Alan, glancing around. “Nobody's going to die.”
The plane began to roar and shake as the ground approached with worrying speed. Alan and Daisy, along with all of the other passengers around them, adopted their bracing positions as the cabin crew yelled, “Heads down! Stay down!”
With a sickeningly violent jolt, the plane hit the ground. Daisy found herself thrown out of her crash position, and hastily got back into it as an awful groaning sound tore through the cabin. The plane bounced around as if it were a toy being shaken by a dog, and Daisy clutched the seat in front of her for dear life.
Overhead compartments popped open, showering their contents on to the people below, but fortunately nothing heavy dropped on to Daisy. Alan fared less well: a green carry-on case crashed down on his back, but in truth he was so hyped-up on adrenalin and distracted by the unfolding catastrophe that he barely noticed.
The frightening motion began to settle down, gradually, but a new sound of tortured metal screamed into Daisy's ears. With her eyes tightly shut, she clenched her teeth and clung on, expecting at any moment to hear a huge explosion.
But the plane's shaking continued to settle down, and the horrible grinding noise diminished. Soon enough, Daisy realised that the plane had come to a halt. Trembling, she sat up and looked around.
“Are you okay?” asked Alan.
“Yes, I'm fine,” she replied, but she was interrupted by the pilot's voice.
“Well folks, that was quite a ride, wasn't it? As you may have guessed, we didn't quite make it to the runway before touching down, but I am happy to report that we are on it now. Emergency vehicles are on their way, but in the meantime, as a precaution, we'd like to evacuate the plane in a quick but orderly fashion. Please proceed to your nearest emergency exit. Do not, I repeat do NOT, take any baggage with you. Those passengers with exit responsibilities – this is your moment. Please open your exit doors as you were instructed at the beginning of the flight.”
“Come on,” said Alan, getting to his feet. “Let's get out of here!”
Daisy got up, hastily wrapping her blanket around herself and tucking it in at the waist. But as she and Alan scrambled for the exit, surrounded by a jostling crowd of fellow passengers, her blanket soon became untucked and was trampled underfoot. Leaving it behind, she held Alan's hand tightly as they reached the exit together. An inflatable ramp led down to the runway and she jumped, with only a moment's concern over whether she would leave a trail of smeared poo.
As it happened, she bounced on the ramp and rolled over on to her front, descending in a rather undignified manner with her legs akimbo and her poo-filled panties on prominent display. Not that anybody really noticed or cared at a time like this.
Getting to her feet at the bottom of the ramp, she stepped to one side and waited for Alan. Once he had joined her, they moved away from the plane which, Daisy was alarmed to see, was smoking. Her First Aider training kicking in, she looked around to see if anybody was in need of minor medical assistance.
But ambulances were already beginning to arrive with blaring sirens, along with fire trucks. “Are either of you hurt?” a passing paramedic asked them. When they shook their heads, he said, “Please keep well back from the plane, but don't go anywhere – we'll need to get your names so we can see who might be missing.”
It was a long wait, and Daisy, whose exposed panties still contained a large quantity of poo, was feeling very anxious to clean up and put some clothing on her bottom half.
“Holy shit, look at the plane!” exclaimed Alan.
The stricken aircraft had lost its undercarriage in the landing, and was resting flat on its belly. It looked otherwise intact, but thick smoke was pouring from one of the exit doors near the back. As Daisy watched, she also saw orange flames flickering within.
“Oh my God, I hope everyone's out!” she said.
Fire hoses had been deployed, and water started to be pumped into the plane. At this point Daisy and Alan, having provided their names, were asked by an airport worker to follow him to the terminal.
After a ten-minute walk, during which Daisy had to keep hiking up her panties to prevent them from falling down under the weight of poo inside, they reached the terminal and were asked to give a statement to the police.
“Do you think my wife could use the restroom first?” asked Alan politely once they had given their names and addresses to a female police officer.
“Of course!” said the officer. “Please do.”
But Daisy shrugged. “Alan, there's not much point in my cleaning up until I have something to change into.”
“Suit yourself,” said the officer. “If you could just follow me...”
She led then into a small interview room, where she recorded their accounts of the flight and crash-landing. When they emerged from the room, they found themselves surrounded by reporters and news crews.
“Oh my God!” cried Daisy, turning pale. She immediately and fervently hoped that the television cameras were filming her only from the waist up.
“Can you tell us what happened?” asked one of the reporters, ignoring Alan as she held a microphone up to Daisy's face.
“Um, yes,” she said, blushing with mortification. “It was the scariest experience of my life! It started out as just turbulence – nothing unusual...”
As she related her story (leaving out the part about her poo accident), she nervously noted that one cameraman was sidling around behind her. She saw the flash of his camera, and hoped desperately that he had not just photographed her poo-filled panties.
“And so we had to walk here to the terminal,” she finished. “Hopefully they've got the fire under control by now, but...”
There was a distant boom, and the windows shook. “Oh no, was that our plane?” she wailed, rushing towards the window to look out across the tarmac. The reporters and their cameras followed her, her bouncing panties captured on digital video by the local cable news network and two local newspapers. “Our luggage!” she exclaimed, watching flames and smoke enveloping the plane's fuselage.
“Come on Daisy, let's go,” urged Alan, acutely aware of how Daisy was going to look in the newspapers and on television, with her panties bulging and sagging heavily, and her buttocks encrusted with smeared poo. He wished her t-shirt were longer, at least, but it did not even reach the top of her panties.
Daisy sighed. “All right, but where? Can you find me something to change into?”
“I'm sure I can,” he replied.
“Could I have your attention please?” called out a well-dressed man from a few yards away. “On behalf of the airline I would like to apologise for the traumatic experience you have just undergone, and for the inconvenience of having your travel plans disrupted like this. We will be accommodating you in the local Ramada Inn, and a coach is currently outside waiting for you. “It will depart in about five minutes.”
“Oh crap,” grumbled Daisy. “That's not enough time to find and buy some clothes, not to mention clean up as well. I guess I'll be staying like this for a while yet.”
“At least you'll be able to clean up at the Ramada,” said Alan. “And I can run out and get you some fresh panties and some shorts.”
“Thanks,” said Daisy gratefully.
They headed outside with the other passengers, but were among the last to board the coach. As Daisy climbed on, the driver stared at her. “What happened to you?” he asked.
“Lost my shorts in the crash,” she replied curtly, and she turned to head down the aisle.
“Whoa, wait up there!” said the driver. “God, what a mess! And you stink! I'm not having you on my coach in that condition!”
“You're kidding, right?” said Alan angrily, as the last of their fellow passengers boarded and squeezed past him and Daisy, heading for the few remaining empty seats. “We've just been in a plane crash!”
“That doesn't mean I have to put up with shit on my seats!” said the driver. “Anyway it's a moot point – the coach is now at capacity. Sorry sir,” he said to a man who was searching in vain for an empty seat. “You'll have to get off too.”
“Damn it,” began Alan, but Daisy tugged his arm. “Let's just get off,” she said. “I'm sure we can find a taxi.”
“All right,” Alan muttered, disgruntled. He and Daisy stepped out of the coach, and looked around for a taxi. Spotting one, he started towards it, but his attention was caught by a trio of bikers who were apparently picking up a friend at the airport. As the friend climbed on to the back of one of the bikes, they all spotted Daisy approaching, and turned to stare at her.
“Nice bike,” said Alan conversationally to the nearest biker. “That's a '93 Dynaglide isn't it?”
“You know your bikes,” said the long-haired, long-bearded man.
“I love Harleys,” said Alan with a grin. “I have a Sportster at home, and my dad had a 1980 Wide Glide which he used to let me ride occasionally.”
“Nice,” said the biker, nodding. “So is this your wife? What happened to her clothes?”
“Our plane crashed,” said Alan cheerfully. “You may have heard the explosion.”
The biker stared at him.
“Seriously!” said Alan. “It'll be on the news later – they even interviewed us.” He recounted what had happened as the biker and his friends listened with their mouths increasingly agape.
“I was in the restroom when we were all ordered back to our seats,” chimed in Daisy. “Unfortunately I had a bit of an accident...”
“So how are you planning to get to L.A.?” asked the biker.
“Well they're putting us all up in the Ramada Inn for tonight – hopefully they're figuring out another plane for us for tomorrow,” said Alan.
“Do you need a ride to the Ramada?” asked the biker. “Least we can do for a stranded fellow biker.”
“Thank you!” said Alan gratefully. “That's very kind of you.”
“Name's Don,” said the biker. “This here's Luke, and that's Jerry and Chris. Climb aboard.”
“Um, Alan!” said Daisy nervously, tugging her husband's arm. “I'd rather get a taxi...”
“Do you think a cab driver will be any more likely than that coach driver to let you in his vehicle?” inquired Alan. “Come on – this'll be fun!”
Daisy climbed on to the seat behind Luke, and settled down into her poo once again. She put her arms around Luke's waist, holding tight to him as he set off. He leaned forward, and she leaned with him, further exposing her messy panties. She felt very vulnerable, and hoped the Ramada Inn was close by.
The three motorcycles roared off down the road, and for a few moments, as the wind whipped through her hair, Daisy thought she might actually enjoy this journey. After all, she had always enjoyed riding on the back of Alan's bike.
But then they stopped at a set of traffic lights, and Daisy found herself sandwiched between a minivan and a pickup truck. The former contained several kids, who excitedly laughed and stared and pointed at her panties. The driver of the truck soon noticed her, too, and he grinned at her as he lowered his window.
“Hey lady!” he guffawed. “Ride too scary for ya?”
He continued to tease and taunt her until Luke turned a ferocious stare on him. Then the lights changed, and they started off again.
At the next set of lights, Don turned his head and said to Alan, “Hey man, the truck stop where we're meeting our buddies is coming up – do you mind if we stop there first? Your wife could use the restroom there.”
“Um, sure!” said Alan. “I always enjoy a good biker gathering.”
Don pulled out ahead of his friends, and half a mile later signalled his intention to turn into the truck stop. All three bikes turned, and Daisy was highly alarmed to find herself in the midst of a throng of motorbikes and their riders.
“Why are we stopping here?” she asked Luke urgently.
Luke shrugged. “Ask Don – he led the way.”
Daisy dismounted and hurried over to Don's bike, where Alan had just dismounted. “Why are we here?” she asked her husband frantically.
“Sorry darling,” said Alan. “But this was apparently on the way to the Ramada, and Don wanted to stop here first. Anyway, perhaps you could use the restroom here.”
“But I still don't have anything to change into!” she snapped in annoyance.
“I'm really sorry,” said Alan, contrite. “I'll ask Don if we can get on the road again as quickly as possible.”
But soon he was distracted by a couple of classic bikes, and Daisy was being quizzed about her adventures by several amused bikers. Her story about the plane crash soon won them over, however, and she began to feel more at ease as she chatted with them.
“I'm so sorry about the smell,” she said. “There just hasn't been a chance to clean up yet. Don was going to take us to the hotel, but instead he pulled in here!”
“Typical man,” said a female biker who had introduced herself as Cindy. “Never thinking about the needs of us women.”
“Couldn't you clean up here?” asked her boyfriend, Ellis.
“Not unless you have a spare pair of panties and shorts for me to change into,” said Daisy. “I really just want to get to the hotel.”
“Understandable,” said Cindy. “Your husband seems pretty occupied, though – can I get you a drink? Iced tea or a cold beer, maybe?”
“Thank you!” said Daisy gratefully. “An iced tea sounds awesome.”
It was rather surreal, sipping iced tea with a bunch of bikers while wearing only a t-shirt, bra, sneakers, and poo-filled panties, but her companions made her feel welcome and she became increasingly comfortable in their presence.
Nevertheless, after forty-five minutes or so she was beginning to feel rather annoyed with Alan, who seemed to have disappeared. Excusing herself, she went into the diner to look for him, only to be chased out by a waitress offended by her outfit and odour.
Eventually she found Alan round the back of the diner, playing horseshoes with a group of the bikers. “Alan!” she exclaimed.
“Sorry darling,” he said sheepishly. “But here ... why don't you join us?”
Daisy was actually pretty good at horseshoes, and since she did not want to seem like a bad sport, she played for a while as the sun steadily sank toward the horizon.
“We should really get going,” she eventually said to Alan.
He nodded. “Hey Ryan,” he said, “Would you mind taking us to the Ramada now?”
“Sure!” said a red-haired biker. He and his friend Robbie led Alan and Daisy to a pair of bikes, and Daisy climbed on behind Robbie, while Alan rode with Ryan.
“Thanks guys!” said Alan, as the bikers dropped them off outside the hotel. “Come on Daisy, let's check in.”
“I didn't see any shops nearby,” said Daisy nervously. “How are you going to find me some panties and shorts?”
“We'll figure something out,” said Alan.
At the front desk, the receptionist confirmed that a reservation had been made for them, and their room paid for by the airline. They headed up to their room, where Daisy eagerly stripped off her clothes and had a shower. With no clean clothes to change into, however, she was obliged afterwards to put on the same bra and t-shirt, and her poo-filled panties.
“There's a MacDonald's next door,” said Alan. “Shall we go and grab a bite to eat?”
Daisy was about to retort that she was hardly dressed for going out, but since she had already spent most of the day out in public with her messy panties on display, she was getting somewhat desensitised to the idea. She shrugged, and said, “Okay.”
Unfortunately the staff in MacDonald's were no more tolerant of her appearance than the waitress in the diner, and she had to wait outside, being ogled and laughed at by a continual stream of customers entering and exiting, while Alan stood in line and then ordered their food. Five minutes later he emerged with two small bags, one of which he gave to Daisy.
They returned to their room and ate their meals, after which Alan wiped his mouth with his napkin and got to his feet.
“Right,” he said. “I'm off to find you some shorts and panties.”
Daisy sighed. “Don't be silly,” she said. “It's dark outside, you don't know the area, and you don't have a car. How do you expect to find a clothes shop?”
Alan grinned and held up his iPhone. “There's a County Seat Clothing Store just over a mile from here,” he said. “I can be there and back in half an hour.”
“It's almost nine o'clock,” said Daisy. “What are their hours?”
Alan shrugged. “I couldn't determine that,” he said. “Only one way to find out!”
“All right,” said Daisy. “Fingers crossed, then.”
Alan gave her a kiss, then he headed for the door. “Be right back!” he said.
Thirty-five minutes later, he returned. “They were closed,” he said apologetically.
Daisy nodded. “Well, I didn't get my hopes up,” she said. “Anyway, we got a call while you were out. A special charter flight has been arranged for us tomorrow morning at seven o'clock. We'll need to be at the airport for six at the latest. A coach will be departing from the hotel at half past five.”
“Will it take us, though?” asked Alan grimly.
“I asked about that,” said Daisy. “The guy I spoke to was very nice – Rich was his name. He said he'll be there personally to make sure the coach takes us ... otherwise he'll take us personally in his car.”
“Awesome!” said Alan.
Prior to getting into bed, Daisy stripped naked and washed her buttocks and pussy, which had become smeared with poo again. She climbed in with Alan, and they enjoyed ten minutes of vigorous sex before Alan climaxed inside her with a groan.
The next morning they got up at five o'clock, washed their faces, brushed their teeth with the complimentary toothbrushes that they had found in the bathroom the night before, and got dressed, with Daisy putting on the same outfit she had worn the day before, complete with a heavy load of rather squished poo in her panties.
Outside the hotel, they met up with a fresh-faced young man who introduced himself as Rich. He studiously avoided looking at Daisy's panties as he led them to the coach.
This time it was a different driver. Daisy fixed him with a level gaze and said, “Sorry about this, but my panties are full of poop. May I board anyway?”
“Uh, okay,” said the driver, looking anxious. “Just don't sit down, okay? I'll try to avoid starting and stopping too sharply.”
“Thanks,” said Daisy with a smile.
They arrived at the airport with a few minutes to spare, so Alan went searching for a clothes shop. Unfortunately, the only one he found was not due to open until six o'clock.
“Good grief, you haven't even cleaned yourself up yet?” demanded a middle-aged woman as Daisy waited with the gathering crowd of her fellow passengers.
“I haven't had a chance,” Daisy replied irritably. “Circumstances conspired against me.”
A uniformed man checked them in and directed them to security, through which they passed swiftly, having little or no baggage with them (a few people seemed to have acquired some since the previous day). The TSA agent who waved Daisy through stared disapprovingly at her panties, but he did not say anything about her poo, and she wondered if Rich had called ahead with a heads-up.
Boarding the plane, she once more sat down in her squishy poo, this time taking the window seat while Alan took the aisle. She expected people to complain about the smell, but by this time her poo was fairly dry and had lost much of its offensive odour. The air-conditioning took care of the rest, for the most part.
The flight to LAX was, to Daisy's relief, entirely uneventful. But as eight o'clock approached, it suddenly occurred to her that this was Monday morning and she had an important presentation to give at work at eleven o'clock. Knowing her boss as she did, she thought it unlikely that he would accept as flimsy an excuse as a plane crash for her missing such an important event. Fortunately the plane had taken off on time and was due to arrive in time for her to get to work for the start of the presentation, but this did not allow her much time to clean up and change.
“When we touch down,” she said to Alan, “I'll need to call my boss. I have a presentation at eleven and I don't think I'll make it.”
“Okay,” said Alan. “Well, under the circumstances I'm sure Steve will cut you some slack. We'll get you home so you can clean up and put on some office clothes...” He looked at his watch. “You should be at the office by noon, anyway, which I think is pretty good, given what we've been through.”
“Hmm,” said Daisy.
Once they had disembarked, Daisy called Steve while walking through the crowded terminal. Being viewed with such disgust by so many people would have totally freaked her out just 24 hours ago, but now she found she was largely able to tune them all out. Being on the phone helped.
“I'm sorry, Steve,” she was saying, “but what do you want me to do? It wasn't my fault the plane crashed. I'm lucky to be alive!”
“Yes, and I'm very glad you are alive,” said Steve. “But since you are, and you're already in L.A., I expect you to be here in time for your presentation!”
“But Steve!” Daisy protested, “I have to go home and change first!”
“If you have time to do that and get to your presentation by eleven,” said Steve, “then by all means do so. But if not, just come as you are!” And he hung up the phone.
“Crap!” exclaimed Daisy. “Now what am I supposed to do? He wants me to go straight there!”
“Look!” said Alan excitedly. “A clothing store!”
Daisy looked at it hopefully, then she shook her head. “Even just shopping, cleaning up and changing are going to take up too much time.”
“Well you can't go to work like that!” said Alan.
“True,” admitted Daisy, “but I think I have an idea.” She dialled her colleague Roxanne. “Hi Roxy!” she said. “Hey, would you be able to do me a huge favour...?”
As she drove to work with Alan in the passenger seat, she explained her plan. “Roxy is going to go out and buy me a blouse, skirt, and panties,” she said. “The execs will just have to live with my sneakers – I'm not having Roxy buy shoes for me.”
“Will you have time to change when you get to the office?” asked Alan.
“I'll have to,” said Daisy. “There's no way I'm giving a presentation like this!”
But she had not counted on construction traffic, and by the time she reached the office, it was already a minute past eleven. “Fuck!!” she exclaimed.
She kissed Alan, and got out of the car. “All yours,” she said. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck!” he said.
Daisy hurried into the building, where Roxy had agreed to meet her in the foyer. But the woman was nowhere to be seen. She dialled her colleague in a panic. “Where are you?”
“Stuck in traffic!” replied Roxy. “Sorry! I'll be there in five!”
“Oh God!” whimpered Daisy. “All right – I'm going to try and sneak into my office to fire up my laptop. Meet me there, okay?”
“Okay!”
Daisy hurried to the lift, then changed her mind – she did not want to risk any unnecessary encounters. Taking the stairs, she bounded up them while her poo bounced around in her panties. Her office was quite close to the stairwell, and she hoped she could get there unnoticed.
Unfortunately, Steve was waiting for her. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “You flew like that??”
“Yes,” she admitted, her cheeks turning bright red. “And as you can probably tell from the smell, I had an accident on the plane, which so far I haven't had a chance to clean up.”
Steve recoiled in disgust. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed. He sniffed the air experimentally. “Actually, it doesn't smell all that bad,” he remarked. “Look, Daisy, we've got the CEO and CFO both in that conference room, waiting to see your presentation. They are on a tight schedule and have another meeting in...” He looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes. By all means explain to them the reason for your appearance – and smell – but make that presentation!”
Daisy quailed. “You seriously want me to go before Darius Brooks like this??” she gasped.
“Yes!” said Steve. “And immediately! Grab your laptop, and in you go!”
Astonished exclamations greeted her entrance into the conference room one minute later. “So sorry I'm late,” she said, blinking back tears as she set her laptop on the table and plugged it into the projector. “My plane crash-landed yesterday, I pooped in my panties, lost my shorts and all my luggage, and I was in such a rush to get here this morning that I didn't have time to change or even clean up.”
Darius Brooks, the CEO, said in his famous Texas drawl, “Well Sweet Jesus, Daisy, couldn't someone else have covered for you?”
“Unfortunately not,” said Daisy. “Nobody else has a handle on all of these figures, where they all come from, how they interrelate, and what they mean in the context of the financial projections for the upcoming fiscal year.”
“All right then,” said Darius, “I guess we'll just have to endure the smell so we can reap the benefits of your expertise. Fire away, Daisy.”
“Thank you,” said Daisy. It occurred to her that she really needed to defecate again, but she squeezed her buttocks together as she commenced her presentation.
But her discomfort increased steadily over the next ten minutes, and it struck her that since her panties were already full of poo, what difference would a little more make?
While facing the assembled executives, with her back to the projector screen, she slowly allowed her anus to relax. A thick turd began to slowly emerge, expanding her sphincter and thrusting into the drying mass of poo already in her panties.
“Hold on,” said Viv, the vice president of sales, his brow furrowing. “I don't understand why you're showing a cost saving for the past three months when our expenditures have exceeded last year's baseline...?”
Daisy subtly eased her feet apart and bore down harder, forcing more of her new turd into her panties. “Well,” she said, “the market has gone up in the past twelve months. It's not realistic to hold ourselves to last year's baseline when the playing field has moved. Thus we have applied to the baseline an index adjustment, updated on a monthly basis, which basically says, okay, we spent three percent more than last year, but the market as a whole went up three point eight percent. Since we've outperformed expectations based on market conditions, this is represented as a cost saving.”
“Thanks Daisy,” said Randy, the CFO. “It's become fairly standard practice across the industry, Viv.”
“Okay ... I get it,” said Viv. “I'm just not sure I agree with it. It sounds too much like creative accounting to me. How is this index calculated?”
“It's not something we made up,” said Randy. “It's a complex formula developed by market analysts. I don't suppose Daisy knows...”
“Actually I do,” said Daisy. “I can show you on the whiteboard.” Too late it occurred to her that she could not write on the whiteboard without turning her back on everyone else in the room ... and she had not finished pooping.
Biting her lip nervously, she picked up a dry erase marker pen, turned, and began to write on the board, while still pushing out her poo and hoping this was not obvious to the men behind her.
Unfortunately, it was extremely obvious, and several jaws dropped as the executives stared at the expanding bulge in Daisy's panties, which soon started to slip downwards, exposing more of her buttock cleavage.
“Holy Moly, Daisy!” said Darius. “Ain't your panties full enough?”
Daisy turned around, highly mortified. “I'm so sorry,” she said. “I didn't think a little more would make much difference, and I was feeling rather uncomfortable.”
Darius chuckled. “You're a crazy gal, Daisy, but you certainly know your business, and I respect that. By all means continue.”
“Thank you,” said Daisy gratefully. She gripped the sides of her panties and strained, pushing out still more poo.
Darius burst out laughing, and he was joined by the other men. “I meant continue with your explanation!” he chortled.
“Oh!” said Daisy, her embarrassment now complete. “Oh gosh – I'm so sorry, again.”
“Aww, that's okay, Daisy,” said Darius. “By all means finish your pooping too.” He wiped a tear from the corner of one eye.
With crimson cheeks, Daisy turned back to the whiteboard and resumed writing, while expelling the last of her poo into her panties. “There,” she said finally. “This is the formula, with the variables that go into it. The U.S. average diesel price is in there because of its effect on transportation costs.”
“Well we seem to be out of time,” said Darius, “and we have a conference call now. But Daisy, I'm very impressed with your presentation, and it occurs to me that there are a bunch of folks at Jefferson Square who would benefit from seeing it.”
Daisy glowed. “I'd be happy to give this presentation at Jefferson Square whenever you like,” she said happily.
Darius rubbed his chin. “The guys from Japan are still there – it would be great if they could meet you too...”
“I'd like that,” said Daisy. “How long are they here for?”
“Their flight back is this afternoon,” said Darius. “Perhaps you could accompany me back to corporate? I'll be leaving in half an hour. Can you get hold of some pants or a skirt in that time? And a change of underwear, obviously...”
Daisy nodded. “Totally,” she said. “My colleague Roxy Kent has picked up some clothes for me. Unfortunately she didn't make it back in time for this presentation, but she should be here by now.”
“Excellent!” said Darius. “I'll see you in half an hour.”
Daisy was feeling very pleased with herself as she left the conference room. She hurried through the office towards Roxy's cube, leaving a trail of startled customer service reps wrinkling their noses in her wake.
But Roxy was nowhere to be seen. Alarmed, Daisy popped her head over the cubicle wall. “Tyler!” she said. “Where's Roxy?”
Tyler was wrinkling his nose. “God, is that you?” he inquired.
Daisy blushed. “I pooped my panties,” she said. “Roxy went out to get me some clothes. Where is she??”
“Well she's back,” said Tyler. “I think she just went to the restroom.” He coughed. “You might want to join her!”
“Thanks,” said Daisy. She hurried to the restroom, arriving just as Roxanne was coming out. “Roxy!” she said. “Do you have my clothes?”
“Yup!” said Roxy. “At my desk.”
“Oh good!” said Daisy in relief. “Darius just invited me to Jefferson Square to give a presentation, and I don't really want to look like this when I go!”
“Oh my God!” said Roxy. “That's great! Well you'd better hurry up and get changed then!”
“Yes!” said Daisy. “Thank you very much for rescuing me, Roxy – I really appreciate it.”
But the panties Roxy had bought, when Daisy removed them from the bag, were not quite what Daisy had had in mind. “Ugh, I really don't like boy-shorts,” she said. “I should have mentioned that. And what size are they? Oh my God, you got me size four undies?? What do you think I am, a rake??”
“Sorry,” said Roxy, looking embarrassed. “I didn't know your size so I guessed. I felt sure I'd be close with a four, though...”
“I'm a size seven!” said Daisy. She would have said more, but she bit her lip: Roxy was a large lady, and this was probably why she was a poor judge of slimmer women's sizes, but it would be terribly impolite to comment on this. Instead, Daisy sighed. “You know what, it's my fault for not telling you my size. Thank you – I do appreciate you rushing out and buying clothes for me. I suppose the skirt is also a size four?”
Roxy nodded apologetically, then she said, “Perhaps I still have time to go back out and get you something in your size...?”
Daisy looked at her watch. “Twenty-five minutes. Maybe! Target's probably closest. Just grab something in my size – I'm not fussy at this point! What size is the blouse...?” She opened it out. “Oh good grief...”
Roxy was already heading for the door. “I'll pick up another blouse too!”
Fifteen minutes later, Daisy was squatting anxiously in her cube when Jenna Davis, the Human Resources manager, stopped by for a little chat.
“I've had some complaints,” she said almost apologetically. “Is there some reason why you have not yet cleaned yourself up?”
“I'm waiting until I have something to change into,” said Daisy irritably. “I don't want to have to hide out in the restroom, bottomless, until someone brings me clothes.”
“And ... is someone bringing you clothes?” inquired Jenna.
“Yes!” said Daisy. “Roxy's hopefully on her way back with something now. I have to leave for Jefferson Square in ten minutes, so I hope she gets here soon! At any rate, I'll be out of here, one way or another, very shortly.”
“Okay,” said Jenna. “Well, that's good.” She smiled brightly. “Have fun at corporate!”
“I doubt I will,” muttered Daisy as Jenna walked away. She called Roxy's cell phone. “Where are you?” she asked urgently.
“I just got to the store!” said Roxy. “Traffic was terrible!”
“What??” cried Daisy.
“Sorry, I know it's almost time for you to leave – can you stall them?”
Just then, Darius, Viv and Randy appeared, walking down the aisle towards Daisy. “Too late,” she said. “It looks like they're done with their meeting already.”
“Uh-oh,” said Roxy.
“Forget the clothes,” sighed Daisy. “Thanks anyway. I'll talk to you later.”
“Ready to go?” asked Darius.
“Well I was hoping to have some clothes to change into by now!” said Daisy unhappily. “But my colleague got the wrong size...”
“Oh man,” said Darius, looking rather annoyed. “So you're not coming? After I just invited thirty people to a meeting in the corporate offices?”
Daisy gulped. “Thirty? Oh my goodness! I'm sorry you went to all that trouble... Look, I'd come over there and do the presentation like this if you wanted me to ... but I'd hate to stink up your car and gross everyone out at Jefferson Square.”
Darius raised an eyebrow. “You'd be willing to endure further embarrassment in order to fulfil my request? Hmm! Such dedication should not go unrecognised.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I'll call over there and warn them of your ... situation.”
“Oh my goodness,” said Daisy, a feeling of panic rising on her throat. She had not really been serious in her offer to do the presentation at Jefferson Square in her t-shirt and poo-filled panties; she had not dreamed that Darius would take her up on it. But now that her offer had been accepted, she could hardly back out.
As she stepped into the elevator with the company's top executives, Daisy felt terribly embarrassed about the awful smell she was subjecting them to, but although they were all obviously holding their breath for the trip down to the ground floor, they politely made no comments on the subject of her messy state.
“You can ride in my car,” said Darius as they headed out into the car park. “I'll put the top down, so the smell doesn't bother us.”
“Thanks,” said Daisy, “but what about your seats?”
“Hmm, good point,” said Darius. “Well, instead of sitting in the passenger seat, perhaps you could lie on your front across the back seats?”
“Um,” said Daisy, not at all sure the car was wide enough for her to do that, even with her knees bent. She tucked her laptop behind the front seat and then climbed in carefully, kneeling on the back seat while she got into position.
“Don't worry, I won't start or stop suddenly,” said Darius cheerfully.
When Daisy closed the door, she found she could not lie flat: with her knees pressed against the door on the passenger side, there was not enough room for her head. She would have to either arch her back and raise her head up to the level of the window, or stick her bottom up into the air so she could keep her head down.
With the top down, she figured she would not be able to keep her full panties hidden whatever she did, but at least she could maintain her anonymity if she kept her face buried in the seat. Raising her bottom up into the air, she whimpered unhappily as Darius retracted the roof.
True to his word, Darius drove slowly and carefully – rather too slowly for Daisy's comfort, in fact. She was acutely aware of the gasps of pedestrians and cyclists as they noticed her bottom and poo-filled panties driving by.
After what seemed like an age, though it was really just a few minutes, they arrived at Jefferson Square. Daisy hurried inside with Darius, and followed him through the massive cube farm wherein about forty percent of the company's employees worked.
She hoped he would lead her directly to a conference room, but unfortunately he was far too gregarious an individual to make it through a crowd without stopping at least once for a chat with somebody.
“Roger!” he said. “How was your vacation!”
“Spectacular,” said Roger, resting his elbow on the wall of his cubicle. Then he noticed Daisy, and his eyes widened at the sight of her exposed panties approaching. “Whoa!” he said.
“Ah yes, this is Daisy Peterson from the Walker Street office.”
“We've met,” said Roger, nodding. “How are you doing, Daisy?”
“Fine thanks,” said Daisy, coming to a rather unhappy halt. “And yourself?”
“Can't complain,” said Roger. He sniffed the air. “What the...?”
The cube workers that Daisy had just hurried past were now mostly on their feet and staring in astonishment at her bulging panties. She sighed. “It's a long story,” she said.
“Well I'm just going to run to the little boys' room,” said Darius, “so you have a couple of minutes to tell your story if you like. But then get yourself over to the Buffalo conference room and set up your laptop; the rest of us will join you shortly.”
So Daisy found herself telling the story of her accident, the plane crash, and her subsequent adventures, to an increasingly large group of interested bystanders. It was highly embarrassing, and she was grateful when she saw Darius waving from the end of the aisle.
“I need to get going,” she said. “I have to make a presentation to a bunch of managers and directors.”
“Dressed like that?” asked a young woman, Marjorie, who had just joined the throng.
“Well unless anyone has anything else I could wear...?” said Daisy hopefully.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then, “I might,” said another young woman, “but you'd have to clean yourself up first.”
“I don't have time,” said Daisy with a sigh. “Darius is looking impatient.”
She hurried towards the conference room, her poo bouncing around in her panties and slapping against her buttocks with each step. As she entered the room, gasps arose from the dozen or so men and women who had seated themselves already.
“Sorry about my appearance,” she said, blushing deeply as she set up her laptop next to the projector. “And the smell. I haven't had a chance to clean myself up yet since my plane crashed yesterday.”
The looks of puzzled disgust on the faces of those who had not heard her story were replaced with expressions of astonishment and concern. And then of course Daisy had to tell her story all over again. It was another ten minutes before she had settled them all down enough to begin her presentation.
Half an hour later she was answering questions about her numbers, which clearly some of those present found rather surprising. But gradually her audience began to disperse, and she eventually found herself alone as she started shutting down her laptop.
Then Darius re-entered the room. “Good job, Daisy,” he said. “There's a good head on those pretty little shoulders of yours. I'd like to discuss with you your future at this company – can I take you out to lunch?”
Daisy glowed. “Of course!” she said enthusiastically. For a moment she considered asking if she could get a change of clothes first, but it occurred to her that by the time she found and bought a change of clothing, got to a toilet, cleaned herself up, and got dressed, there would not be much time left to talk with Darius. Also, he would probably get tired and impatient waiting for her, which would not be good. Instead she said simply, “Where are we going? I suspect most places would throw me out...”
“Don't worry about that,” said Darius. “I know the perfect place – it has outdoor seating and self-service, so you needn't be seen by any of the staff.”
After another short car journey with her poo-filled panties sticking up in the air, Daisy climbed out of Darius's car and followed him down a busy sidewalk towards the restaurant. “Sorry I couldn't find anywhere closer to park,” he apologised.
“No problem,” said Daisy nervously as she tried ineffectually to tug her t-shirt down over the back of her sagging panties. Realising the futility of this endeavour, and that it was merely drawing attention to her predicament, she soon stopped bothering, and instead tried to hide behind Darius whenever they passed someone.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Darius picked out an outdoor table and suggested that Daisy sit with her back to the street, so that her messiness would not be seen by any of the staff in the restaurant. Daisy complied, but as the poo squished against her buttocks and squelched against her pussy, she was acutely aware that passing pedestrians would be able to see her panties bulging behind her bottom.
Darius became aware of this, a few minutes later, as they ate. “Uh-oh, I think your panty-accident is getting some attention.”
“Yeah,” said Daisy uncomfortably; she had been wincing at some of the comments she had overheard.
“Well don't let them get to you,” said Darius. “Let's talk business. Frankly, I could use someone with your analytical skills and grasp of the business. How would you like a new role as Senior Business Analyst, based at Jefferson Square?”
“I would love that!” said Daisy excitedly.
They discussed potential new responsibilities and projects over the next hour, until Daisy had quite got over her anxiety about what she was showing to people on the street behind her. Eventually Darius got to his feet.
“Well, I'd best get back to the office – I have a meeting shortly. You can come back with me if you like, but I won't be able to give you a ride back to Walker Street until five, probably.”
“Thanks, but I really want to get myself some clothing!” said Daisy. “There's a couple of stores nearby – I might as well do some shopping while I'm here. Then I'll clean up, change, and catch a bus back to the office.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Darius. “But will the clothing stores let you in...?”
“Good point,” said Daisy. “Probably not. Oh dear.” She sighed. “I have to try, though. I'll just make a run for the restrooms, and figure it out from there.”
“Okay then – good luck!” said Darius. “And tell your boss I’ve given you the rest of the day off – on the grounds that you’ve suffered enough already today, haha!” He headed back to his car, leaving Daisy planning her strategy for getting to a clothing store bathroom as quickly as possible.
Choosing Freyman's, which was just a small store but had the advantage of being only a couple of blocks away, Daisy trotted off down the street, blushing deeply and trying to ignore the laughter and insults that were thrown at her along the way. She reached the entrance to the shop and hurried inside, looking around for a sign that would lead her to the ladies' restroom.
It did not take her long to spot such a sign, and she sneaked past a security guard in order to reach the toilet. But as she approached it, she realised that the door was locked, and there was a woman waiting outside. Cursing under her breath, Daisy decided to hang back until the restroom was free, rather than join the queue and have to answer awkward questions.
In the meantime, she thought to herself, she might as well shop for an outfit to change into. She was currently in the lingerie section, which was not much help, but across the aisle a few yards away were some nice dresses, any one of which she would love to be wearing right now.
She was about to start across the aisle when she noticed the security guard watching her. Fortunately he could only see her top half from where he currently stood, but obviously she could not walk out into the open while he was looking her way. So she nonchalantly pretended to browse through the racks of lingerie, and in doing so actually found a sexy little tank-top, midriff-revealing and semi-transparent, which she decided Alan would probably enjoy seeing on her. She found one in her size and lifted it off the rack.
The changing room was close by, and it was currently unguarded, so she sneaked in and pulled the door almost closed, leaving only a narrow gap through which she could peek out. She could see the toilet from here, and the security guard who was now standing still, tapping on his phone.
Pulling off her t-shirt and bra, Daisy donned the sexy top, then checked herself out in the mirror. It was even more transparent than she had first thought, now that it was stretched out around her breasts. Her nipples and areolas were highly visible. Nice, she thought to herself. Alan was going to love it!
Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she peered outside again. To her delight, the toilet door was now open … and the security guard was nowhere to be seen! Quietly slipping out of the changing room, Daisy stole across to the toilet, grabbing a pair of white silk panties on the way. This was it – she was finally going to clean up!
“Hey!” said a voice behind her, and she turned in alarm to see the security guard marching swiftly up to her. “You! Get out of this store, now!”
“But I just need to use your bathroom to change!” exclaimed Daisy desperately.
The guard grabbed the panties out of her hand. “Into these? Before you’ve bought them? And what about the rest of your clothes? And the top you just changed into? I don’t know what kind of sick, exhibitionistic game you’re playing, Miss, but I strongly suspect you were planning on adding shoplifting to your crimes today!”
“What? That’s crazy! I’ve never shoplifted anything in my life!” cried Daisy indignantly, as the guard caught her arm in an iron grip and marched her towards the front of the store. “You can’t throw me out dressed like this!”
“I can and I will,” he replied grimly.
“But what about my bra and t-shirt! They’re still in the changing room!” said Daisy.
The guard hauled her through the front door and out on to the street. “Wait here,” he said, “and I’ll go and get them.”
“Thank you!” said Daisy.
The man started towards the door, but then he turned and looked at her suspiciously. “Except that you’re wearing a top that doesn’t belong to you!” he said. “Give me that! I’ll be back in two minutes with your other clothes.”
“And stand out here topless?” objected Daisy. “No way!”
“It’s not yours,” he growled. “Now are you going to remove it, or do I have to call the police and have them charge you with shoplifting?”
“For fuck’s sake!” exclaimed Daisy in annoyance. “Look, how about I pay for it?” She pulled her debit card out of her purse.
“I don’t take cards,” he snapped. “Do you have cash?”
“Um, I’ve got seven dollars,” Daisy said.
“Not nearly enough! Come on – off with the top,” said the guard.
“Jesus!” whimpered Daisy, as she removed the top and handed it to him. She folded her arms over her breasts. “Just hurry back with my clothes, will you?”
“You can come back into the store for them when you’re dressed decently,” he sneered, and then he marched back inside.
Daisy gasped. “You bastard!” she yelled after him.
Pulling her phone out of her purse, she called Alan, but got his voicemail. “Darling, please call me back as soon as you can!” she said after the beep. “I’m stuck in the middle of the city wearing nothing but my shoes and messy panties! Love you – bye!”
Then, because she was starting to attract a crowd, she took off down the sidewalk at a run, her panties bouncing against her buttocks and rapidly descending under the weight of her poo. She reached down and grasped the sides of her panties with both hands, which enabled her to keep her panties up but at the cost of exposing her bouncing breasts to everybody she passed. Tears sprang to her eyes – this was a complete nightmare!
A squeal of brakes followed by a loud metallic crunch immediately took her mind off her own predicament. Turning to the source of the sound, she saw a car, its front end smashed in, slewing around and coming to a halt about twenty yards away. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, as she saw a middle-aged man, his face bleeding heavily, slumping unconscious over his steering wheel.
Other people were rushing in to help. A heavily-built man in a baseball cap, with a Herculean effort, got the driver’s door open, and a smaller man in a leather jacket leaned in to pull the driver out. “Don’t move him! Don’t move him!” exclaimed Daisy, running up to join them. “I have some medical training.” The awful thought that her distracting appearance might have caused the accident crossed her mind, and she fervently hoped that the man would not die or be paralysed as a result.
“Then help him!” said the man who was leaning into the vehicle. “I don’t think he’s breathing!” He withdrew from the driver’s door, and as he turned to look at Daisy, his jaw dropped. “What the…”
“Shit!” said Daisy. “Okay, pull him out and lay him down on the road.”
“Why are you nearly…”
“Never mind that I’m nearly naked and my panties are full of poo!” shrieked Daisy. “Focus on the guy who’s hurt!”
“Oh – right,” said the man in the leather jacket. He reached back in and, with an effort, hauled the insensible driver out of the car. Lowering him carefully on to the road, he said, “I think his nose is broken.”
“That’s the least of his problems!” said Daisy. She bent over the man and listened to his heart. She could neither hear nor feel anything. “Is somebody calling 911?”
“I already did,” said a voice behind her.
Daisy started to administer chest compressions, while barely taking in the sounds around her: horns honking, an all-too-distant siren wailing, and voices around her.
“Look at her panties! That’s incredible…”
“Are you all right man?”
“Yeah I’m fine – he just swerved right into my lane! I couldn’t avoid him!”
“Shame about the car – looks expensive.”
“It is – it’s an Aston Martin. You know, like James Bond drives.”
“Holy shit, you think it’s an actor?”
“He’s loaded – doesn’t mean he’s an actor. Maybe a producer.”
“Clothes look expensive too.”
“Yeah, definitely a producer.”
“Check his wallet.”
“Shit, it’s Neil Overton!”
“The boss of Lucid Dreams? Holy shit!”
Daisy’s First Aid trainer had advised against mouth-to-mouth breathing, recommending instead continual chest compressions until the arrival of paramedics, but after two minutes she was afraid that they might arrive too late. With the sound of sirens getting closer, she pinched his nose, pulled open his mouth, and breathed into his lungs. She was vaguely aware that her poo-filled panties were sticking up into the air, and probably getting photographed and videoed by half a dozen people behind her, but her mortification could wait – this was a matter of life and death! She blew again. The man’s chest inflated … and then he coughed.
“He’s alive!”
“She did it!”
“Oh my God,” mumbled the accident victim, as Daisy hastily pulled away from his mouth. He struggled to sit up.
“Don’t move!” said Daisy. “You’ve been in a nasty accident. There may be internal injuries, spine injuries…”
“Here’s your wallet, Mr Overton.”
Neil Overton – she recognised him now, despite the extensive blood covering his face – blinked a few times as he stared at Daisy. “You!” he said. “You’re the reason I…”
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted out in distress. “I’ve had a terrible morning and … well, to make a long story short I am not dressed like this intentionally! But I’m so sorry I caused you to crash!”
“At least she brought you back to life, Mr Overton!” said a man behind her. “You were dead for like five minutes!”
“What?” said Neil.
“Well I don’t think it was quite that long,” said Daisy.
“You saved my life?” said Neil. “Wow – thank you! What’s your name?”
“Daisy Peterson,” said Daisy, feeling a little shy suddenly.
“Well Daisy, I’m very grateful to you,” said Neil. He started to struggle to his feet, despite Daisy’s protestations.
A trio of excited figures now arrived: a smartly-dressed woman holding a microphone, a comparatively scruffy man holding a large, expensive-looking television camera, and a bald man wearing headphones and holding a long boom with a mike on the end. An ambulance was also just arriving, but the female reporter was clearly determined to get her scoop. She said “Mr Overton! It is Neil Overton, isn’t it? I’m Lindy Dorfmann from LWBC News. Are you okay? Can you tell us what happened please?”
“Oh God!” muttered Daisy, covering her breasts as she saw the camera pointing directly at her chest.
Neil looked momentarily irritated by Lindy’s question, but then he glanced at Daisy, and said, “Well actually you have quite a story here, Lindy. This young woman, Daisy … Peterson was it? … just brought me back to life, having caused the accident that apparently stopped my heart in the first place.”
“Okay but that wasn’t my fault!” said Daisy desperately. “I’m very sorry if my appearance distracted you, but I didn’t intend to be running semi-naked down the street like that!”
“And why are you semi-naked?” asked Lindy, turning towards her with an expression that suggested she was struggling to suppress a beam of pure joy at the scoop she had just landed.
“I was in a plane crash,” said Daisy with a heavy sigh.
“Here in L.A.?” asked Lindy with a gasp. “When?”
“No! It was in Santa Rosa, yesterday,” said Daisy.
“You were on that plane?” said Lindy, her eyes widening. “But how the … that doesn’t explain…”
Daisy groaned. “Here’s what happened,” she said, and for the umpteenth time she recounted the story of her crazy experiences since boarding the plane more than twenty-four hours ago.
Nearby, a female paramedic attempted to get Neil to follow her back to the ambulance, but he waved her away, saying “Just a minute – I want to hear this.”
“…and so he marched back into the store, leaving me topless on the sidewalk!” said Daisy, ten minutes later. “People were starting to stare at me, so I panicked and started running. And that’s when I heard the crash…”
“I guess I should have kept better control of my car,” said Neil, “but you have to admit, she’s quite an extraordinary sight, even for this town.”
“Indeed she is,” said Lindy. “And quite a lovely young lady, as well as being quick-thinking in a crisis. Perhaps you could cast her in your next movie, Neil.”
Neil chuckled, then coughed. “I think I’d better get myself checked out,” he gasped, before finally allowing the paramedic to lead him away.
“We’d love for you to come into the studio for a follow-up story,” said Lindy, turning her attention back to Daisy. “Can you give me your name, address and phone number?” She handed Lindy a pen and a small pad of paper.
“Oh – sure,” said Daisy, taking the pad and hastily starting to scribble down her contact details, nervously aware that her breasts were now uncovered and she was not sure if the cameraman was still filming.
“So what do you plan to do now?” asked Lindy. “You seem cursed to keep that mess in your panties – do you think you’ll be able to find a change of clothing and a way to clean up?”
Daisy paused in her scribbling. “Oh I do hope so!” she said. “This has all been a hugely embarrassing experience! I’m hoping my husband will get the message I left for him, and come and rescue me and take me home.”
“Well perhaps we could help,” said Lindy. “You don’t want to be stuck out here on the street in your current state, waiting for a rescue that might be hours away. How about you come with us back to the studio, and wait there until your husband picks you up? We can even find you a toilet and a change of clothing.”
“Oh thank you!” said Daisy gratefully. “That would be awesome.” She was about to hand the pad and pen back when she noticed, hovering nearby, the two men who had helped extract Neil from his car. “Oh, I should give a shout-out to those two guys,” she said. “They got Neil out of his car.”
“Really?” said Lindy. “Come on over, guys!”
They approached, grinning a little sheepishly. “I opened the door,” said the man in the baseball cap. “It was stuck pretty tight.”
“I pulled him out,” said the man in the leather jacket. “He’s heavier than you’d think.”
“Well it’s a good thing you were around to help,” said Lindy. “Can you tell me your names? And what went through your mind when you saw the crash?”
“I didn’t actually see it,” said the first man, rather apologetically. “Name’s Tod Burnett. Tod with one ‘d’. Anyway, like everyone else, I was watching the pretty lady running down the street in her shoes and panties full of…”
“I saw it,” said the second man. “I’m Jerry … Ramirez. Yeah I saw the whole thing. It was like he just took his hands off the wheel and started drifting across…”
“Uh-oh, the police are here,” said Lindy. “They’ll want statements from everyone. You two guys, can you pose for a photo with Daisy here? Yes, just stand either side of her like that … great. Daisy, just put your arms around their waists … perfect. Now smile!”
“Oh God!” Daisy groaned, imagining her blurred breasts splashed across the newspapers tomorrow – and her unblurred breasts doing the rounds on the internet even sooner, no doubt.
A female cop took her statement, and offered to take her back to the police station ‘for her protection’, but Daisy declined; a television studio sounded a far cosier place to wait for Alan than a police station.
Fortunately the LWBC News van was just a couple of blocks away, and Daisy was soon safely in the back, squatting on one of the seats to avoid further squishing of her poo. Half an hour later they were all entering the studio, where Lindy met briefly with her boss while Daisy texted Alan to explain what had happened, and where she was. To her delight, Alan actually responded.
Alan: The LWBC studio? And you saved Neil Overton’s life?? And you’re going to be on TV???
Daisy: Yes! Oh thank goodness you finally looked at your phone! Get your ass down here!
Alan: Okay! I’ll be right there.
Daisy: Awesome. And bring me some clothes please!
“Okay!” said Lindy, returning to where Daisy had been waiting rather impatiently, “they’re actually in the middle of a live news show right now, and owing to the rather extraordinary nature of your story, Richard would like to get you on the air right now, if you’re willing. We’ll just put you through five minutes of make-up first…”
“On the air? Like this?” said Daisy. “Can’t you get me some clothes first?”
“Well Daisy,” said Lindy, “for better or worse, your outfit is part of the story. For the viewers to get such an insight into what happened, so soon after the event, is almost unprecedented.”
“Oh Jeez,” said Daisy with a sigh. “It looks like I’m never going to be able to get dressed again! But what the hell – I’ve paraded my poopy panties around a couple of airports, a whole load of streets, stores, hotels, truck stops, you name it … and my boobs are probably already over the internet … so fuck it, I’m tired of worrying about who’s seeing what. Bring it on!”
“That’s the spirit,” said Lindy. “Obviously we’ll blur your breasts – a neat trick on live TV, but not impossible – and probably your poop, I’m guessing. That’s up to Richard.”
A plastic bag was laid on the chair on which, ten minutes later, Daisy gingerly sat down for her interview. She smiled at the presenter of the afternoon news show, Matt Farrah, and prepared to recount her story all over again. Knowing her breasts were going to be blurred, she did not bother covering them, and did not care that Matt kept glancing down at them.
“So tell me,” he said to her, “why didn’t you at least empty out your panties at the hotel, when you had the chance?”
“Well I didn’t really see the point,” said Daisy. “Remember I’d already been wearing my mess for a long time, and I was getting quite used to it. Until I had something clean to change into, I figured I’d be still wearing messy panties, whether or not there was actual poo inside them. And also remember, at each stage of my predicament, I was always expecting to be able to change and clean up very shortly afterwards. The thought of emptying my panties into a toilet, blocking it, overflowing the toilet as I tried to unblock it … that seemed like a lot of effort if at the end I was still going to be wearing messy panties.”
“When the accident happened … didn’t you think to yourself, ‘Now’s my chance to get away from all these people staring at me?’”
“No, not at all,” said Daisy, a little shocked. “I saw that the driver was hurt. And I suspected that I was the reason he’d crashed. Also, since I am a qualified First Aider, I knew I was potentially in a position to help him.”
“Well it was very brave and decent of you to expose yourself to further embarrassment in order to help Neil Overton like that,” said Matt.
“I’m not sure ‘decent’ is a word that would spring to most people’s mind when they see me right now,” said Daisy, “but thank you.”
Matt laughed. “I’m glad you have a sense of humour about the whole thing,” he said. “Well, I’ll let you go and get cleaned up and into some clothes. Thanks for coming on the show!”
“Don’t mention it,” said Daisy. “And thank you.”
As she left the warm glare of the lights, she pulled out her phone and saw a new text.
Alan: Sitting at stop light; be there in five minutes!
“Excellent,” she said. The message was timed at six minutes ago, so he was hopefully already in the building.
A young woman came up to her with a rather gaudy dress. “Here,” she said. “Lindy told me to give this to you, and to tell you that the restroom is just down that corridor.”
“Thanks,” said Daisy, “but my husband’s downstairs with a change of clothes. I appreciate the offer though!”
“Oh, okay,” said the woman.
Daisy took the elevator down to the ground floor, and as she entered the lobby, she saw Alan approaching from the front doors. “Alan!” she cried happily.
“Good grief!” he exclaimed. “What happened to your t-shirt?”
“Don’t ask,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just give me some clothes and … where are my clothes?”
“Ah,” said Alan sheepishly. “Well I didn’t actually get your text about bringing you some clothes until I texted you at the lights. At that point, I thought I might as well pick you up before we go clothes shopping. I didn’t realise of course that you were topless…”
Daisy groaned. “Never mind!” she said. “Whatever, I don’t care. Everyone’s seen my messy panties and breasts now anyway.”
“Oh,” said Alan. “Well shall I take you home?”
“No,” said Daisy. “I actually have some stuff I need to get done at work. Just take me back there.”
“Oh!” said Alan, startled. “Um, do you want to stop at a clothes store on the way?”
“Nope,” said Daisy. “What’s the point? It’s bound to go horribly wrong, and I’m serious – I don’t care about people seeing me like this anymore. I’m mortificationed out.”
“Wow,” said Alan. He considered this as they walked out of the building, and noticed Daisy was not bothering to cover her breasts. “That’s actually kind of … really hot.”
Daisy looked at him in surprise, then laughed. “Glad you approve,” she said.
“You know,” said Alan thoughtfully, “now that you’re something of a local hero, perhaps we can find a restaurant willing to overlook their usual dress code rules in order to let you eat there as you are. Then we could go there straight after work.”
Daisy giggled. “I’m cool with that if you are,” she said.
“And after that, how about a trip to the bowling alley…?” suggested Alan.
Daisy snorted with laughter. “Sure, if you can get us in! And after that, perhaps a bar – with one of those mechanical bulls? I’ve always wanted to try one of those.”
“You don’t think the bar owner would be upset at having your poo smeared over the saddle of his bull?” inquired Alan.
“I’m sure my boobs would persuade him,” said Daisy with a grin.
“And maybe tomorrow we could go hiking – somewhere really popular…”
“With even more poo in my panties by that time?”
“Yes! And the day after that we could…” He whispered in her ear.
Daisy’s eyes widened. “You naughty man. I love it!”
THE END
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