OFFICE ACCIDENT

Today began like any other but before lunch rolled around it had become one of the worst in recent memory. My alarm went off at 6:30AM and I rolled out of bed, put my jogging outfit on, and headed out the door for my morning run. I love the feeling of the cold air blowing through my hair and filling my lungs as I run every morning. Today I did three miles before returning home for a shower.
Once I was cleaned up I pulled a pair of black satin fullback panties and a matching bra from my dresser and began getting ready. After hooking the bra around my back I went to my closet and pulled out my favorite skirt suit. I put the white satin blouse on first and then pulled the coat over that. Finally I slid the skirt up my legs and zipped up the side. This was my favorite suit because the skirt gripped my ass like a glove and I always turned heads in it. When I ride in the elevator to my office I always make sure to stand in the front so everyone can get a good look at my tight ass. I also like to bend over occasionally while men are watching. In short, I’m a bit of tease.
At 8:00 I left my apartment and headed for work. Three years ago I was hired by a Washington, D.C. law firm right out of college. The first two years were a brutal grind through 80 hour weeks and awful assignments. That’s standard practice though. I was just beginning my fourth year now and I had earned the respect of my superiors along with juicier cases that would test my skills as a lawyer.
At 8:30 I arrived in my office and began my workday. Two days ago I had been given a high profile civil lawsuit involving a patent holder making infringement claims against a high profile electronics company. A victory would mean an eight figure settlement and a big raise for me. While sitting at my desk I ate a high fiber muffin and pored over the depositions taken so far in the case. It looked as though we had a very good chance to win and I was excited at the possibilities.
By the time I pulled my head out of the papers it was 11:00 and I needed to go to the bathroom badly. I usually like to poop at home to avoid the embarrassment of stinking up the office bathroom but I had neglected to do so this morning. Squeezing my anus tightly to prevent any unwanted accidents I walked to the nearest women’s bathroom only to find it locked. I made a beeline for the next closest bathroom and found an out of order sign hanging on the door.
All of a sudden I began to panic. Those were the only two bathrooms on our floor. I rushed to the elevator with my anus still clenched tightly and punched the button for the floor above us. There was another law firm located there and I didn’t think they’d have a problem with me using their bathroom.
Once the elevator doors opened I practically ran out and asked the secretary in the entryway where the nearest bathroom was. She politely informed me that all of their bathrooms were out of service due to a pipe having burst. Now in a full panic state I rushed back onto the elevator before the door shut and punched the button for the lobby. The bathrooms down there were public, large, and would almost certainly be working.
I was on the 25^th floor though and it was a long way down. I leaned back against the railing and squeezed my ass tightly. I was now fighting with my body to keep the poop inside. When the elevator dinged at the 14^th floor I lost the battle and my bowels emptied into my panties. Immediately I felt a hot, wet, and heavy sensation in my panties. The elevator was empty but my face burned with shame at having lost control of myself. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I put off going to the bathroom for so long when it was just down the hallway?
With very little time to think I considered my options. I could still go to the public bathroom in the lobby and just throw my panties away. I could go back to my office and put my panties in the trash and tie up the bag. I could also just pull the emergency stop button on the elevator and stay in there all day long so no one would ever find out about my shameful mistake.
In the end I decided that since the elevator was already headed to the first floor I would simply flush my panties down the toilet and go back to work. The elevator stopped at the 10^th floor and three guys got on. They all gave me a once over as they stepped to the back of the elevator. Little did they know that a shameful secret currently rested in the backside of my panties, making a mess of the soft satin.
More people got on at the fifth floor and by the time we reached the lobby the elevator was nearly full. I had gotten stuck near the front and so I was the first off when the doors opened. As I walked away I heard a few snickers and cries of dismay. Right away I knew that my tight skirt had done me in and the lump of poop in my panties was showing through. My earlier shame was nothing in comparison to the white hot embarrassment I now felt.
As I strode towards the bathroom I imagined people staring and pointing at my ass, laughing at me. I refused to look back to see if my nightmare was coming true though; knowing would have been far more humiliating that simply imagining it. Finally I reached the bathroom and quickly found myself a stall. I pulled up my skirt, took off my shoes, and threw my panties into the toilet. Without even looking I flushed them down and said goodbye to the vicious nightmare I had just lived. After cleaning myself thoroughly with reams of toilet paper I let my skirt fall back down and headed back to my office, my dignity having been reclaimed. Once I was in my office I found a pair of panties in the back of one of my drawers (what luck!). I was whole again but it took me hours to regain my composure and feel right again.

Denimania PART 2

It’s for the good of the country,” said Mrs Camberwick icily, pushing her glasses back into position. “You’ll regret slapping me, young lady – I promise you that.” With that she turned on her heel and walked off.

Emma, thoroughly shaken, but more angry now than scared, entered the physics classroom and headed for the back, where she could see Helen sitting alone at a double desk.

“Uh, Miss Greaves?” said Mr Falworth. “Would you like to pay a visit to the bathroom before you sit down?”

“Not really,” said Emma, and she sat down abruptly in the seat next to Helen, making a squelching sound as her buttocks met the plastic seat and forced her shit in all directions.

“Where did you go? What happened?” whispered Helen.

“I nearly got raped!” said Emma. “By Steven Darrow!”

“Oh my God!” said Helen. “But you managed to fight him off?”

“No – I shit my panties and he was so disgusted he walked off. But Mrs Camberwick – she was helping him! She held me down!”

Helen gasped in shock, then she grimaced, and lifted her bottom a few inches off the seat. Emma glanced down in surprise, and then smiled when she saw Helen’s clean white panties suddenly expand at the back as they filled up with warm, soft shit. Helen blushed in embarrassment. “I seem to be having a hard time predicting when it’s going to come out,” she confessed in a murmur.

“Well, I’d suggest not cleaning up for a while,” said Emma. “It may save you from getting raped.”

Several other girls filled their panties during that lesson, and by mid-morning at least half the girls in Emma’s classes had done so. It seemed that news of Brantasia’s effects had spread fast, and nobody who had given it a try had been put off by the results.

During the fifteen-minute break between third lesson and fourth, the corridors were filled with messy bottoms and bulging panties. Some of those girls who remained clean were spending break having sex, either in the corridors or in the classrooms, but despite the sexually-charged environment, many of the boys seemed perfectly content just to watch the parade of naked female flesh, and seemed disinclined to actually have sex. Those boys who actually had a healthy libido were making the most of it, but there were too few of them to go around all the girls.

Emma ran into Poppy, who also had full panties … and nothing else on. “Hi Em!” said Poppy. “What’s up?“

“I nearly got raped this morning,” said Emma, and she told Poppy about Steven.

Poppy shuddered. “That’s kind of scary,” she said. “Although I am just dying to have sex. But nobody seems interested! I’m very disappointed in the boys at this school.”

“You could always try Steven,” said Emma.

“Ooh no,” said Poppy, grimacing. “I don’t like him one bit, and anyway, it sounds like he’d be turned off by my messy panties – which I refuse to remove just yet.”

“We could always have some fun of our own – just the two of us,” said Emma.

Poppy grinned. “Why Emma, whatever do you mean?” she asked in mock innocence.

“I mean, I want to get naked and messy with you,” said Emma in a low, husky voice. “I want to shove my shit up your cunt, and puke into your mouth, and pee all over your boobs.”

Poppy closed her eyes and smiled. “Sounds lovely,” she said. “But somehow I don’t think we’ll find anywhere here where we can do that without being disturbed.”

Emma nodded. “Well … perhaps we could skive off for the rest of the morning?” she suggested.

Poppy’s eyes snapped open in surprise. “You mean – walk out of school? Like this?”

“Not like this,” said Emma, trying to imagine how it would look for them to walk down the streets wearing only shitty panties. “We’ll put something on, sneak out, and find a nice quiet spot where we can get really nasty together.”

“Okay,” said Poppy. “What about the changing room? We could put on our tennis clothes and then sneak out of the back.”

“Excellent idea!” said Emma. “Let’s do it.”

And so, ten minutes later, the two sisters were creeping along the outside of the main school building, wearing their short white tennis skirts, white trainers, and little white crop-tops. The skirts were new regulation issue for this term, and covered their buttocks with just two inches to spare. Beneath those skirts each girl still wore her messy, shit-filled panties.

Nobody saw them, and five minutes later they were chatting and giggling as they made their way into town along the narrow pavement at the side of the main street. It was a beautiful day and it felt good to be outside, but Emma kept looking back and forth for likely-looking locales for their tryst. Finally she stopped, smiling.

“How about that?” she asked.

Poppy looked, and screwed up her nose. “The public toilet? Eww!”

“Hardly anyone ever uses it,” said Emma.

“And nobody ever cleans it!” said Poppy.

Emma grinned. “So it should be nice and filthy,” she said.

Poppy thought about this, and a slow smile crept across her face. “The men’s will be filthier than the women’s,” she remarked.

“Probably,” agreed Emma. “I’m game if you are.”

“I’m game,” said Poppy.

Looking around nervously to see if anyone was looking, the two girls hesitated, then hurried into the door marked with a little stick-man figure.

The smell inside was awful – stale urine and shit, days, weeks or even months old for all they knew. There were flies everywhere. Poppy went into one of the stalls. “Ugh, gross, come and look at this Emma!”

Emma followed her sister into the stall, and nearly retched at the sight and smell of the toilet therein. The flush handle was dangling uselessly from the back wall and was obviously broken. The bowl contained the accumulated excrement, mounded almost to seat height, of perhaps several dozen men who had probably been too drunk to care or even notice that they were not sitting atop a clean bowl. The floor was coated with vomit, with an occasional turd here and there. Even the walls were streaked with shit.

“Doesn’t it make you want to throw up?” said Poppy, staring in fascination at the pile of shit in the toilet bowl.

“Uh-huh,” said Emma. She stooped down and picked up a couple of small turds from the floor. “Turn around.”

As Poppy turned, Emma planted the two turds against Poppy’s breasts, and then squished them, mashing them into Poppy’s crop-top. Poppy gaped and stared down at her chest. “Eww, Emma!” she said. “Look what you’re doing to my clothes!” But she made no attempt to stop her sister. Instead she glanced at her wrist and said, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to record this?”

Emma smiled. “I like that idea,” she said. “Give me your phone – it takes better movies.”

Poppy slipped her phone off her wrist and handed it to Emma, who clipped it to the top of the stall’s doorframe, set it to wide-angle, hit the record button, and pointed it down towards the toilet. Then she resumed smearing shit all over Poppy’s breasts until the white crop-top was completely brown in front. Satisfied, she said, “Pull down your panties, Poppy, and step out of them.”

Poppy obediently did so, taking care not to lose any shit from inside her panties. Then she allowed Emma to position her in front of the toilet bowl, facing the open door of the stall. Emma smiled at her, and then pressed down on her shoulders. Biting her lip nervously, Poppy let herself be pushed down until she was sitting on the seat. In this position, the summit of the shit mountain in the bowl was rubbing against her vagina.

“Actually I have a better idea,” said Emma. “Stand up again and close your eyes.”

Poppy stood, closed her eyes, and Emma quietly reached down and lifted up the seat. “Now sit down again.”

Poppy sat down slowly, and then shrieked as her buttocks failed to find a seat, and fell right through into the bowl itself. The mountain of shit gave way beneath her, oozing into every crevice, slithering over her pussy and squishing up between her thighs. It moulded itself around her buttocks, rubbing against her anus and creeping up her back. All this was concealed from Emma by the tennis skirt which Poppy was still wearing.

“I’m stuck!” wailed Poppy, having sunk so deeply into the toilet bowl that she was practically bent double, her knees pressing against her shoulders.

“Now, I think, I’m going to be sick,” said Emma. “Open your mouth, Poppy.”

Poppy stopped struggling for a moment, and she lifted up her face and opened her mouth to receive Emma’s gift. Emma did not even need to stick her fingers down her throat – the smell still had her on the verge of throwing up. She merely sniffed her shit-covered fingers (and this was very nasty shit, not like the nice, soft, healthy shit that she had been producing ever since she started eating Brantasia), and that was enough to send her over the edge. Vomit surged up her gullet and poured out of her mouth, showering Poppy’s face and splashing liberally into her mouth. Poppy drank it down as if it was nectar, though doing so soon made her, too, throw up – vomit cascaded from her mouth all over Emma’s clean white skirt.

“Naughty,” Emma scolded her sister. She lifted her skirt, pulled open the front of her panties, and stepped forward, crouching until her pussy was just inches from Poppy’s face. “Have you any more?”

Poppy had – she leaned forward and puked directly into Emma’s panties. Emma let go of her waistband and then rubbed the front of her panties, mashing Poppy’s vomit into her pussy. Then she reached behind her and pulled a handful of shit from the back of her panties. Holding it out to Poppy, she said simply, “Eat.”

Poppy eagerly closed her mouth over a large chunk of Emma’s shit. She chewed it up slowly, swallowed it, then went back for more. Soon she was licking the last bits from Emma’s fingers, leaving nothing but a slimy brown mud which was a mixture of her saliva and Emma’s shit. Since Poppy’s tongue was coated brown by now, this was as clean as she could get Emma’s hand.

“Stay there,” said Emma, unnecessarily. She left the stall and went into the next one. She was delighted to find that it was even more disgusting than the first. This toilet was actually overflowing with shit, and there was plenty piled on the floor. This led Emma to suspect that there was more to this story than met the eye – surely even men would not attempt to shit into a toilet that was already overflowing with the stuff. Possibly this was all the result of some disgusting college prank, or some such thing. At any rate she was not about to waste such a bounty. Though the idea repelled her, she could not help envying her sister’s predicament, stuck in a toilet and sitting in the combined shit of who knew how many different men.

Unclipping her phone from her wrist, she clipped it on to the doorframe of her own stall and started recording. Her phone was a year older than Poppy’s, and did not produce quite such glossy movies, but it would suffice.

Lifting first the toilet seat and then her skirt, but keeping her panties on, Emma lowered herself on to the mound of shit. It pressed damply against her panties (men had been pissing all over it too, and not that long ago), and then, with a sigh, Emma let herself fall in. The shit splurged everywhere, splatting on to the floor around the toilet, and as Emma sank down into the shit, she thrust both her arms down between her legs, ensuring that when she finally settled down as far as she could, her arms were pinned so tightly she could not free them. Only her hands, pressed deep into the very bottom of the bowl, had any freedom of movement at all. Fortunately they could reach her vagina, and so she amused herself by pulling the gusset of her panties to one side and thrusting a couple of fingers inside her cunt. She even managed to push a couple of hard lumps of shit inside herself.

“What are you doing over there?” asked Poppy.

“I’ve just got myself stuck, just like you,” said Emma. “There was even more shit in this toilet.”

“What??” exclaimed Poppy. “However are we going to get out? I can’t move, you know!”

“I know,” said Emma. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for some nice gentlemen to come and help us get out.”

There was silence for a moment from the other stall. Then Poppy said nervously, “Oh God.”

Emma had not been exaggerating when she had said that people hardly ever used these toilets. In truth she had no idea whether it would be five minutes or five hours before anybody showed up. After half an hour, tired of waiting for something to happen, Emma made a concerted effort to free herself. But she had done her job too well – she could not move.

“How hard have you tried to get out?” she asked her sister.

“Not very,” said Poppy. “But I’m getting pretty tired of this, so if it’s all right with you…”

“It’s all right with me,” said Emma. “I’m tired too.”

For a few minutes all she heard was puffing and panting from the next stall, but then another sound gradually arose from a background hum to a noisy roaring close by. It was the sound of motorbikes – a lot of motorbikes.

“Damn it!” cried Poppy. “I just don’t have the strength!”

“But Poppy, your arms are free. How hard could it possibly be?”

“Hard!” said Poppy. “I’m wedged in here so tightly … and I can’t get enough leverage on the bloody rim of the toilet.”

“Shh!” said Emma, hearing voices outside.

Then a couple of men appeared from around the corner, unzipping their leather trousers as they approached. They stopped, however, when they saw the girls. “What the fuck?” said one of them.

Emma felt suddenly afraid. But this was what she had been hoping for when she got herself stuck, so she swallowed, cleared her throat, and said, as bravely as she could, “Hello sirs. My sister and I will be your toilets for today. Feel free to pee, shit or puke on either of us.”

“Fuck!” exclaimed the younger of the two men, impressed. “Well now that you mention it, I do need to take a dump.” He looked from Emma to Poppy, and back again, and then he grinned and came into Emma’s stall.

“Do your parents know you’re here?” asked the older man, frowning.

“Fuck their parents!” said the younger man. “Christ, Bertie – just drop your keks and give the brunette a blonde wash!”

Bertie shrugged and took his dick out, advancing into Poppy’s stall. “So what are you going to do?” he asked. “Open your mouth?”

Poppy nervously nodded and opened her mouth wide. A moment later, she was half-drinking, half choking on Bertie’s urine. Meanwhile, Emma was staring at the anus of the younger man, who was just beginning to push. Almost immediately, a spray of liquid shit fired from his rectum, showering Emma’s face and chest. It smelled terrible, and Emma would have recoiled if she could have moved at all. Instead she closed her eyes and kept her lips tightly sealed until the deluge had stopped. By this time her hair was full of diarrhoea, shit was dripping off her face, and her white top was soaked brown.

“Thank you,” she managed, fighting the urge to throw up again, while her fingers rubbed furiously at her clitoris. She shuddered in a powerful orgasm.

“Wait till the others hear about this!” said the younger man to Bertie, as they left the building without washing their hands.

“You okay?” asked Emma.

“Sure,” said Poppy. “That was nasty though.”

“I’ve a feeling it’s about to get nastier…” said Emma.

A moment later, several more bikers entered, and each gasped at the sight of the two young girls, stuck bottom-first in the two toilet bowls. After a brief ogle, they eagerly took out their penises or dropped their trousers, and one after the other they peed or defecated on one or other of the two sisters. Sometimes they did both. And the bikers kept coming and coming. Fifteen minutes later, Poppy had two large, soft turds draped over her head, and a few others tucked into her crop-top, while Emma had had her top removed and was now being forced to suck on one of the penises that had just peed on her, while other men grabbed and squeezed her breasts.

Shortly afterwards, Emma found herself hoisted upward by strong arms. With a sucking sound as her bottom came free, she was pulled out of the toilet bowl, whereupon she was relieved to discover she could now move her arms again. This freedom of movement was short-lived, however, as she was forced to her knees, facing the toilet bowl, and her arms were thrust back down into the shit. Her panties were pulled down and her bottom and pussy were given a cursory wipe-down. Then something pressed against the opening of her vagina, and she winced as it was shoved home, deep into her cunt. After a few quick thrusts, she felt a small rush of fluid inside her, and realised that some man she did not know – whose face she could not even see – had just fucked her and come inside her. This should have been a beautiful experience…

“I think you should know,” she said, her voice unsteady, “that this was my first time.”

“You’re kidding!” said a voice behind her. “Woo hoo! I’ve just taken her virginity!”

“Yeah right,” said another voice. “Like a virgin’s really going to be hanging around in a gents’ toilet, up to her armpits in shit, saying she’s our toilet. Get real.”

“It’s true!” said Emma. Then she gasped as something pressed against her anus. “Ow-ow-ow-ow!” she cried, as a thick penis, lubricated with shit, forced her sphincter open and then slid slowly into her rectum. She clenched her teeth tightly in pain, but after a couple of minutes, the burning in her anus gradually subsided enough for her to relax. Once this happened, the sensation of the slow, rhythmical thrusting back and forth in her rectum became almost comfortable. After a further couple of minutes, when somebody began pushing lumps of shit into her vagina, she got so excited that she felt an orgasm approaching. “Oh yes!” she murmured. “Fill me with shit! Rub shit into my clit!”

Poppy, meanwhile, was losing her own virginity to a very fat biker named Tucker. She too had just been pulled out of the toilet bowl, and Tucker was the only one so far who wanted to fuck her despite her messiness. So he stripped her naked, laid her down on the shit- and vomit-covered floor, and stuck his erection into her virgin cunt while another biker – a woman this time – defecated directly into her mouth, having ordered her to eat it all, or else.

So Poppy tearfully ate mouthful after mouthful of horrid-tasting shit from the woman’s anus, until she could take no more and threw up all over the floor next to her. The woman just laughed, scooped up handfuls of vomit and shit, and plastered them over Poppy’s naked chest. Then she insisted that Poppy lick her hands clean – which Poppy did, to the best of her ability.

Tucker soon came inside her, but once he pulled out he was replaced by another biker, who had suddenly become less fastidious now that Tucker had rubbed some of the shit off Poppy’s pussy. And after he spurted his semen into her, another biker stepped up, turned her over, and made her lick the floor while he worked his massive cock into her tight virgin anus. Poppy burst into tears as she licked the floor, her anus screaming in pain as it was penetrated for the first time. The female biker was watching all this with a gleam in her eyes and a hand in her panties, rubbing furiously at her clit.

Over the next couple of hours, both girls had similar experiences. Emma lost the rest of her clothing, Poppy got rectally raped so much that her anus would not close properly, both girls’ cunts were filled with sperm until they were leaking it all over the floor, Poppy was made to suck two penises at once (both of which came into her mouth), and Emma got coated from head to toe in shit from her toilet bowl, which one of the more adventurous bikers had had no qualms about picking up in his bare hands. During this time both girls also pooped massively, which the bikers thought was hilarious.

When all forty-five bikers had emptied their bladders, their rectums and their testicles (those that had them) on to or into one or other of the two girls, they finally left the building, leaving Emma and Poppy lying naked in lumpy puddles of filth. For several minutes neither could move, and if anybody had come in during that time, they would have been able to have their way with either one without encountering any resistance at all.

Eventually, long after the sounds of the motorbikes had vanished into the distance, Emma struggled up into a sitting position. This was a bad idea – her anus stung like fire. Stifling a squeal of pain, she turned on to her side, and then pushed herself up to her hands and knees. From there it was a relatively simple matter to get to her feet. She wobbled unsteadily through to her sister’s stall. Poppy was lying face down, her legs spread wide, her anus still gaping open. A fly flew into her rectum, and then flew out again.

“Hi Poppy,” said Emma gently, sitting down (carefully, resting on one buttock) next to her sister. She picked up some small chunks of shit and started pushing them into Poppy’s anus. “How are you doing, my love?”

Poppy groaned. “I never knew … losing your virginity … would hurt so much!” she said.

“Well it’s not supposed to hurt that much,” said Emma ruefully.

“Yeah, I know,” said Poppy, with more than a trace of bitterness. “Great idea of yours, this was.”

“Yeah,” said Emma guiltily. ”I’m sorry – I never imagined fifty bikers would come in here and gang-rape us.”

“Just – help me up, will you?” said Poppy.

Leaning on each other, both girls managed to get to their feet. “Where’re my clothes?” asked Poppy.

“Looks like they took them away as souvenirs,” said Emma. “They did that to mine.”

“So we have to walk out of here naked?” asked Poppy, alarmed.

“I think so,” said Emma apologetically. “But at least we can use the basins to get clean.”

“We need to call Mum,” said Poppy. “She’ll be expecting to pick us up soon.”

Emma nodded and retrieved her phone, stopping the recording as she did so. She called Lara and asked her not to pick them up until five o’clock – this, she figured, would give them plenty of time to clean up and get back to school

For the best part of the next hour, the girls washed themselves clean in front of the basins, paying particular attention to their hair, which was completely saturated with shit. After several washes and rinses, they were finally satisfied that the only shit remaining was either in their cunts or in Poppy’s anus, which had finally closed up. And they were perfectly happy with that.

Ready to face the world again, though very nervous about being naked, they stepped cautiously outside. The school was just a quarter of a mile away, but there were a great many pedestrians between it and them. Plucking up their courage, they decided to make a run for it. Not ten yards from the toilet, unfortunately, their ordeal caught up with them, and their shaking legs threatened to collapse under them.

Obliged to walk at a much more sedate pace, they aroused the ire of several passers-by, who threatened to call the police. A car stopped next to them and the driver, a grinning Indian man in his fifties, offered them a lift, but they nervously declined.

Back at the school, they slipped in through the changing room and both of them took a long, proper shower, which made them feel ten times better. They even washed out their cunts, and gave their pussies a fresh shave. Afterwards, with no underwear to put on, they simply walked into the main school naked. It was four-thirty and the school was practically deserted. Neither girl had had any lunch, so they fetched their fridge-boxes from their lockers and sat in one of the classrooms, eating Brantasia with milk. Then they put on the outer clothing which they had been required to remove that morning, and went outside to wait for Lara.

“Bother!” said Emma suddenly, clutching her wrist. “I must have left my phone in the changing room. Wait here and watch out for Mum while I fetch it.”

“Okay,” said Poppy.

Emma trotted back through the school, but she paused as she was about to enter the changing room. It were unisex – a recent innovation of the current headmaster – and she could hear male voices inside. No doubt they had just finished playing football. For a moment she considered abandoning her mission, but then she thought about what would happen if someone else got hold of her phone and played the movie she had recorded this afternoon. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room and made straight for where she had left her phone.

She almost ran into Steven Darrow, who was wearing just a towel. “What have we here?” he said, grabbing her by the wrists. His eyes flashed dangerously.

“Let go, Steven!” said Emma.

There were several other boys nearby, and a couple of girls, both of whom were naked. “Is this the girl who shit herself this morning, Steve?” asked one of them.

“Yup,” said Steven.

The girl grinned nastily. “She looks pretty clean now – maybe you should finish what you started.”

“No!” said Emma urgently.

“Thanks Donna, I think I will,” said Steven. He pushed Emma to the floor and spread her legs.

“Want some lubricant?” asked Donna, picking up a small bottle of baby oil.

“No thanks,” said Steven. “No pain no gain, as they say.” He pulled off his towel and pushed his erect penis against the opening of Emma’s vagina. She screamed and struggled, but this only made the onlookers laugh and cheer. One of them crouched down and pulled her top up, exposing her breasts.

“That’s a heck of a pair of mammaries!” he said.

“Mammaries? What are you, a biologist?” asked Donna. “She’s got big fucking tits. Big deal.”

With a few quick thrusts, Steven managed to bury his cock deep in Emma’s cunt. She bit her lip and tried not to cry. A few moments later, Steven groaned as he pumped spurt after spurt of semen deep into her body.

“Oh God, that’s so hot,” said Donna, stroking her clitoris. “Mick, why don’t you fuck me?” She bent over a bench, spreading her feet and thrusting her bottom out, and one of the boys pulled out his penis and shoved it into her.

Steven climbed off Emma, but another boy, Ben, eagerly took his place. Emma, fearing another gang-rape, said desperately, “My Mum and sister are waiting outside! They know I’m in here! If I don’t get back to them, they’ll come looking for me!”

“So we’ll fuck them too!” said one of the boys, laughing.

“Oh forget it,” said Steven, pulling Ben off Emma. “Leave the girl alone.”

Emma quickly got up and ran to where she had left her phone. It was still there, so she fastened it to her wrist. Then she pulled her top down to cover her breasts, and ran back towards the door. Steven, however, caught her by the arm as she passed.

“You’re my girlfriend now, okay?” he said.

Emma did not dare gainsay him, for fear of being raped again. “Okay,” she said in a small voice.

He let her go, and she ran out of the changing room and back to the front of the school.

“What the hell took you so long?” asked Poppy. “Mum’s out there.”

“Steven was there – he raped me!” said Emma tearfully as they walked to Lara’s car. “Now he says I’m his girlfriend.”

“That bastard!” exclaimed Poppy. “Don’t worry Emma – I’ll sort him out for you!”

They climbed into the car. “What’s wrong, Emma?” asked Lara.

“Nothing,” said Emma sullenly, wiping her eyes.

“Look what I wore to the supermarket today!” said Lara, in an attempt to cheer her up. She was wearing a pale blue dress, which she had cut to the level of the waistband of her panties. “I filled my panties in the pasta aisle,” she said, with a touch of pride. “I got thrown out of the shop!”

Emma managed a smile. “Good for you, Mum,” she said.

******************

At home that evening, Emma began to feel a little better. Her rape by Steven somehow did not seem quite so significant in the light of her previous gang-rape by a score of bikers. The boy was certainly a jerk, but at least he had stopped her from being raped by any of the other boys. And he did have quite a nice body…

She and Poppy spent most of the evening editing the movies they had recorded in the filthy public toilet. Using Poppy’s desk computer, they cut out all the boring bits and intercut Poppy’s movie with Emma’s, so that the timeline was kept roughly consistent. They were so into it that even when they filled their panties with shit, they did not allow this to distract them from their task. By midnight they had constructed a three-hour rough-cut, which they saved on to their website in a private folder.

Worn out after their long, eventful day, they brushed their teeth and then climbed into Emma’s bed together, for once wishing to remain at least fairly clean. As they cuddled together in the dark, Poppy said, “Emma – do you want to get married?”

Surprised, Emma said, “I suppose so. Well, yes – I do. Eventually.”

“I mean – to me,” said Poppy in a small voice.

Emma was so astonished she switched her bedside light on. “To you? Are you … are you proposing to me, Poppy?”

Poppy nodded, and blushed. “We can – I checked. We’re old enough, and although fathers and daughters can’t get married, or brothers and sisters, there’s no law that says sisters can’t marry each other.”

Emma’s thoughts were in a turmoil. It was a crazy idea – and yet… She smiled. It was perfect!

“I’d love to marry you, Poppy,” she said. “Let’s do it!”

Poppy beamed, and flung her arms around Emma. Then they locked lips, and entwined their tongues around each other. When Emma pulled away, she said, “Do we both get to wear engagement rings?”

“Definitely!” said Poppy happily.

******************

The next day, Emma and Poppy went to school wearing nothing but a pair of panties each. By ten o’clock both pairs were full of shit, but by now they felt no embarrassment about it, since most of the other girls in their classes were doing the same. Their teachers had become used to these accidents now, and most of them just rolled their eyes whenever they saw a girl lift her bottom off her seat or heard her moan loudly in orgasm.

Messy panties were rarely being cleaned out between lessons by this point, and the corridors were full of girls walking about nonchalantly with their panties full of shit. Some of the boys enjoyed this spectacle, but most were turned off. This was not lost on some of the teachers, who reported the problem to the headmaster.

At noon, as fourth lesson was ending, his voice came over the tannoy. “Pupils, your attention please. It has come to my attention that many of the girls have been having accidents in their panties. I understand that this is one of the effects of a cereal called Brantasia. As of this moment, all girls are forbidden to eat Brantasia in school. Moreover, any girl who has an accident must clean up immediately, and as a punishment spend the rest of the day completely nude. All girls who are currently wearing messy panties must clean up within the next half hour, or they will have to spend the rest of the day naked. Thank you.”

“That sucks!” exclaimed Emma to Helen. She loved having shit in her panties and had no desire to clean up.

“It does,” agreed Helen, whose panties were also bulging with shit.

Fifteen minutes later, however, both of them were clean, albeit naked, having washed out their panties and hung them up to dry. Now Emma started attracting more male attention in the corridors, though she managed to successfully rebuff all advances. Fortunately she did not see Steven. During sixth lesson that afternoon, Emma had her second accident of the day, but without any panties she simply made a large pile on the seat, which she then sat down on with a happy sigh.

There was no seventh lesson, because today was the swimming sports – an event which began at three o’clock. Emma was not a strong swimmer and was not taking part, but Poppy was an accomplished breast-stroker and had two races scheduled.

The headmaster’s comments about needing a new gym and pool were not made lightly. Both facilities were located in an old, dilapidated, pest-ridden building which all the pupils hated. The changing rooms had plaster peeling off the walls, missing floor tiles, broken lighting fixtures, and a host of other shortcomings too numerous to mention, and too expensive to fix. Cockroaches swarmed everywhere, and frequently got into the pupils’ clothing, despite many attempts to eradicate them.

Poppy, who was not wearing any clothing, had little to worry about from the roaches, although she jumped when one ran across her foot. She donned her goggles and wandered through into the main pool area, which was slimy and grimy and altogether gross. If it had not been for the strong smell of chlorine, she would have half-expected to see algae growing in the pool.

The races began, and the assembled pupils cheered and whooped whenever a half-dozen naked girls lined up at the shallow end. In Poppy’s first race, only one of her five fellow competitors was wearing panties. At the end of the race, however, as the girl left the water, these were completely transparent, so she might as well not have bothered.

Emma, watching from the benches, stared in puzzlement at a small brown object slowly drifting along the bottom of the pool. Elsewhere in the pool, she spotted another, and then another. All three objects seemed somewhat diffuse, and changed shape as they moved. Then it dawned on her that some of the contestants must have had accidents in the water, the evidence only becoming apparent well after the fact, when the choppy water had settled down a bit.

As race followed race, the number of brown objects increased in number, and some of them broke up, so that eventually there were pieces of shit on the pool floor just about everywhere Emma looked. One girl, standing up in the shallow end, said “Eww! I just stepped in poo!”, making everyone laugh, aside from the headmaster, who eventually called a halt to the entire proceedings before storming off in fury.

“So that’s it? No prizes?” asked Lottie of Poppy as they headed back to the changing rooms.

“I guess not,” said Poppy. “Maybe he’ll hand some out at prize-giving tomorrow.” She spotted a cardboard box sitting against a wall, and an idea occurred to her. “Hey Lottie, can you give me a hand with something?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Lottie. “What do you have in mind?”

Poppy grinned. “Roach-catching,” she said.

******************

That evening, when Grant returned home from work, he was met by Poppy and her cardboard box. “Hi Poppy,” he said. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” said Poppy. “Have a look inside this box.” She put it down in front of him.

Grant bent down and pulled back the flaps. A cockroach ran on to his hand, making him jump. “Jesus!” he exclaimed. Then he saw that inside the box was a seething mass of roaches. “Holy cow!” he said. “Where did you get these?”

“The swimming pool changing rooms,” said Poppy. “The place is crawling with them. I thought you might want to use these on Mum.”

Grant folded up the box again, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm,” he said, a smile coming to his lips. “I believe I shall. Thank you, Poppy.”

Emma and Poppy had arranged with their fellow band-members to rehearse that evening at the farm, and Lara had suggested that Rosie and Chloe should come to supper. So the six of them sat down to dinner at six o’clock, Lara wearing a dress which only just covered her bottom and nipples.

Afterwards, when the girls gathered together in the living room, Rosie whispered to Emma, “Your mum’s hot!”

Emma smiled. “Yes, I guess she is,” she said.

“The other day, when we were here, she seemed much … different.”

“She was,” said Emma, “but Poppy and I helped her discover her true nature.”

“What happened to your mum?” asked Chloe. “Why’s she dressed like that?”

“It’s kind of a funny story,” said Poppy. “A few days ago she was yelling at us for crapping in our panties and stuff, and we were all upset and everything, but then we realised that as she was standing there yelling at us, her own panties were crammed full of shit!”

“Blimey!” said Chloe, shocked. “Talk about hypocrisy!”

“Exactly. So we kind of punished her and made her realise what a hypocrite she was, and that she really enjoys shitting in her panties and showing off her body. And now she’s as much of an exhibitionist and shit-slut as me or Emma.”

“But what is the deal with all this panty-pooping stuff?” asked Chloe in bewilderment. “I just don’t get it.”

“Try Brantasia,” said Rosie. “You’ll get it.”

“Yes!” said Emma. “Oh you’ve got to try it, Chloe – it’s the most amazing thing. You’ll have the best orgasms – and you won’t even need to touch yourself!”

“But I’ll end up with my panties full of shit,” said Chloe. “I’m not sure that’s a great trade-off.”

“Just try it,” urged Poppy. “Look, you don’t have to shit in your panties if you don’t want to. If you feel the need, just run to the bathroom. It’s the pooping itself that feels so nice.”

“Hmm – I don’t know,” said Chloe.

“Try it!” said Rosie.

“Yes – please try it!” said Emma.

“You won’t regret it!” said Poppy.

“All right – I’ll try it,” said Chloe. “Just this once!”

Poppy clapped her hands and ran off to fetch Chloe a bowl of Brantasia. As she left the room, her panties flashing beneath her tiny skirt, Chloe said, “She really loves to show her knickers, doesn’t she?”

“So do I,” said Emma. “Of course, it helps that our school is now requiring us to wear just a bra and panties as a maximum. And if we mess our panties, we have to spend the rest of the day naked.”

“Jeez!” said Chloe. “And I thought it was bad at our school! We have to wear skirts that show part of our panties, but most of us go with the maximum possible length. Oh, and we have to wear these awful slogans on our chests – things like ‘I NEED COCK’ and ‘I LIKE IT DOGGY-STYLE’.”

“We had to wear those last week,” said Emma, “but I guess those labels went by the wayside when the headmaster banned tops.”

“How about you, Rosie?” asked Chloe. “What’s it like at your school?”

“Well,” said Rosie, “officially we’re allowed to wear a top with a slogan and some kind of skirt, but last week our principal introduced a new rule stating that girls disobeying school rules would have clothing privileges removed. One infraction means you have to lose either the skirt or the top. Two infractions means you lose both. Three means you’re down to your panties, and four means you have to be naked.”

“And what are you down to?” asked Emma curiously.

Rosie blushed. “Well, my first four accidents in class lost me all my clothing privileges – so I have to go to school naked for the rest of term.”

“Wow!” said Emma, impressed. “That I’d like to see!”

Rosie blushed, and Chloe chuckled. “You two want a room?” she asked.

“Maybe later,” said Emma, smiling at Rosie.

“Good grief, you do want a room!” exclaimed Chloe. “When did this happen?”

“Oh hush, nothing’s happened yet,” said Rosie.

“Not yet,” agreed Emma.

“Wow, I felt sure I must be the only lesbian in this group,” said Chloe.

Rosie and Emma stared at her. “You’re a lesbian?” inquired Emma in surprise.

Chloe nodded. “Yeah – but I have a girlfriend, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Are you, um, totally lesbian?” asked Rosie. “Or do you like guys too?”

“Totally lesbian,” said Chloe. “I kind of enjoy seeing guys drool on account of what I’m wearing, but this body isn’t for them. It’s for Harriet, and Harriet alone.”

“Lucky Harriet,” said Emma.

“Thanks,” said Chloe, batting her eyelashes with a polite smile. “So I guess … Poppy’s the only hetero girl in our band?”

Emma snorted. “Don’t you believe it. She’s plenty bi, just like me. In fact…” She looked from Rosie to Chloe, and back again. “She and I have been … um…”

Both other girls gasped. “You’re kidding!” said Chloe. “You’re sisters!”

Emma blushed and nodded. “I know,” she said. “But it’s not like we’re going to propagate mutants or anything – we can hardly get each other pregnant. So what’s the harm?”

“Well I guess there’s no harm in it,” said Chloe. “But … well, it’s damn weird if you ask me!”

Rosie was looking a little rueful. “I kind of suspected,” she said, “but I wasn’t sure. On the phone you didn’t exactly spell it out…”

“I’m sorry,” said Emma. “I should have done.”

“Here’s your Brantasia!” said Poppy, coming back into the room. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just the little revelation that we’re all lesbians,” said Emma.

Poppy stared at Chloe. “Really? You too?”

Chloe nodded as she took the bowl of cereal from Poppy. She ate a mouthful and screwed her face up. “It’s a bit bland,” she said. “Can I have some sugar with it?”

“Sure,” said Poppy, and she quickly fetched some. “So,” she said, smiling at Chloe, “you’re a lesbian. That’s so cool!”

“She has a girlfriend,” said Emma, “called Harriet.”

“I hate her already,” said Poppy.

Chloe almost choked on her cereal as she laughed at this. “You’re sweet,” she said to Poppy with a smile, after she had swallowed her mouthful.

“So, I guess hot four-way sex is out then?” said Emma with an impish grin.

“Alas, yes,” said Chloe. “But don’t let me stop you three – I wouldn’t mind seeing you all get into each other.”

Strangely, this made Emma, Poppy and Rosie all feel a little shy.

“I’m not sure…” said Rosie, staring at her shoes.

“You want me to leave the room?” asked Chloe.

“No, of course not,” said Emma. “Look, we should probably rehearse.”

“Good idea,” said Rosie, relieved.

“Aww!” said Poppy, disappointed.

“Fuck rehearsing,” said Chloe, “this is way too much fun. Come on – let’s turn it into a game if you’re all too nervous. We could play Truth or Dare.”

“Sounds like fun,” said Emma. “You up for that, Rosie?”

Rosie nodded.

“I’ll start,” said Chloe. “Poppy – truth or dare?”

“Dare!” said Poppy immediately.

Chloe laughed. “Okay – I dare you to take off your top.”

Poppy did not hesitate, and since she was not wearing a bra, she was soon topless. Chloe smiled as she gazed at Poppy’s firm young B-cup breasts. “Nice,” she said. “Your turn Poppy.”

Poppy turned to Rosie. “Rosie,” she said, “truth or dare.”

“Er, truth,” said Rosie.

Poppy now had to think for a moment. Then she said, “When did you realise you were a lesbian?”

“Well I’m bi, really,” said Rosie, blushing, “but, um, let’s see – it was probably when I was ten years old. I was at the swimming pool and there was a girl there – I guess she was a couple of years older than me – and her breasts were pretty well-developed for her age. I guess I was staring at them in fascination, because she suddenly said to me something like, ‘What are you staring at? Are you a lesbian?’ Well I apologised and said ‘No’ … but I went home and I thought about it – I knew that lesbians liked girls instead of boys, but I only had a hazy idea of the mechanics of it. Anyway I came to the conclusion that yes, I preferred girls’ bodies to boys’. I’d seen naked boys – and naked men – on the web by that time, thanks to a friend of mine who liked to visit such sites, but I didn’t like their bodies nearly so much. So, well, I guess that’s when I knew. I mean, now of course I like men’s bodies just fine, but I never got over that fascination with women’s bodies – and breasts in particular.” This last part was delivered in a rush, and in a quieter voice, and Rosie blushed and stared at the floor.

“Cool!” said Chloe. “Your turn now Rosie.”

“Oh. Um…” Rosie looked around. “Emma – truth or dare?”

“Dare,” said Emma with a smile.

“Okay – um … I dare you to … to … kiss me. No – kiss Poppy,” she said, covered with embarrassment.

“It’s the first one that counts,” said Chloe. “Go on Emma.”

Emma smiled and lifted Rosie’s chin with one hand. The two girls stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, then Emma leaned in and planted her lips against Rosie’s. Rosie closed her eyes, parted her lips, and then the two of them were probing each other’s mouths with their tongues. Chloe laughed and clapped. Poppy smiled, but looked a little jealous.

Emma broke off. “Thanks Rosie,” she said, patting Rosie’s hand. She turned to Chloe. “Chloe – truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said Chloe.

“All right – has it crossed your mind at all to cheat on Harriet with one of us?” asked Emma slyly.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “That’s naughty,” she said. “But I’ll answer. Yes, it has. But just because it’s crossed my mind doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. Remember that.”

“Which one of us?” asked Poppy.

“I’ve answered the question, Poppy – that’s all you’re going to get from me right now. Rosie – truth or dare?”

“Hey, isn’t it my turn?” asked Poppy.

“It’s my turn to ask,” said Chloe, “and I can choose to ask whoever I want.”

“Truth,” said Rosie.

“Hmm,” said Chloe. “What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”

Rosie blushed. “Maybe I’ll take a dare.”

“Wow, it must be bad,” said Chloe, laughing. “Okay then – I dare you to strip completely naked, and stay naked for the next hour.”

“Hey, Poppy only had to take off her top!” objected Rosie, pouting.

“Poppy hadn’t just refused a truth,” said Chloe.

Blushing deeply, Rosie slowly took off her blouse and bra, revealing her perfect C-cup milky-white breasts. As Emma smiled at her in encouragement, she took off her skirt and panties together. Then she said, “What if your parents come in?”

Emma shrugged. “They might,” she said, “but they’re cool – they won’t mind.”

“But I’ll mind!” said Rosie.

“Such is the nature of Truth or Dare,” said Chloe. “Don’t worry babe, I’m sure you won’t be the only naked girl in here before long.”

Rosie put one hand over her pussy and the other over her left breast, covering her right breast with her forearm. “Poppy,” she said, “truth or dare?”

“Dare!” said Poppy.

“I dare you to take off the rest of your clothes,” said Rosie.

Poppy slipped out of her skirt and panties. “There,” she said. “Chloe – truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said Chloe.

“Are you ever going to take a dare?” asked Poppy in some exasperation.

“Probably not from you,” said Chloe with a smile. “I dread to think what you’d have me doing, you naughty girl.”

Poppy laughed. “Oh well,” she said. “If you weren’t with Harriet, which of us would you want to sleep with?”

“Poppy!” said Emma reproachfully.

“What?” demanded Poppy. “This is Truth or Dare, right?”

“Rosie,” said Chloe. Then, as Poppy’s face fell, she added, “It would be you, Pops, since I think you’re cute as a button – but you need to mature a little first.”

This did little to mollify Poppy, who spent the next five minutes pretending not to sulk.

“Emma,” said Chloe. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said Emma.

“What turns you on the most?” asked Chloe.

“Shitting in my panties,” said Emma, “and then squishing it around so I can feel it against my, um, my pussy.”

Chloe shuddered. “I’m sorry I asked,” she said.

“Poppy,” said Emma, “truth or dare?”

“Dare,” said Poppy, pouting slightly.

“I dare you to come and suck on one of Rosie’s nipples,” said Emma with a grin.

Poppy actually smiled. “Okay!” she said. She came over to where Rosie was sitting, bent over, and placed her open mouth over Rosie’s left nipple.

“Um,” said Rosie, more than a little unsure about this, but as Poppy suckled on and twirled her tongue around Rosie’s nipple, she smiled a little and closed her eyes. “This isn’t too bad,” she said.

Poppy broke off, leaving Rosie’s left nipple moist and prominent. “That was nice!” she said, making Rosie blush.

“Rosie,” said Poppy, “truth or dare.”

“Oh … dare,” said Rosie.

“Okay – I dare you to let Emma stick her tongue in your cunt.”

“Poppy!” exclaimed Emma, shocked.

“What?” asked Poppy, aggrieved. “You know you want to!”

“It’s okay,” said Rosie. “I don’t mind. I mean – you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…”

“Good girl,” said Chloe, smiling.

Emma shrugged. “Well, if nobody minds… Why don’t you lie back on the couch, Rosie?”

Rosie did so, then she shyly spread her legs so that Emma could put her head in between her thighs. Emma positioned herself appropriately, then she bent down and started to gently lick Rosie’s labia, lightly brushing the redhead’s clitoris and then running her tongue downwards until she reached Rosie’s vagina. Extending her tongue as far as she could, she pushed it inside Rosie’s cunt. The girl tasted nice – somehow sweeter than Poppy – and she continued licking and probing for a good five minutes. When she pulled away, however, Rosie breathlessly said, “Oh, don’t stop!”, so Emma smiled and moved up to suck directly on Rosie’s clit. Within another minute, Rosie was bucking and moaning in her orgasm.

Emma smiled, then she moved up to lie full length on top of Rosie. They kissed hungrily, and Rosie put her hands up Emma’s top to fondle her breasts. Poppy came over to stand over them, torn between voyeuristic enjoyment and jealousy. She reached down to grasp Emma’s top. “Here,” she said, “you might as well take this off.”

Emma pulled away from Rosie just long enough for Poppy to remove her top, then she resumed French-kissing Rosie. Poppy meanwhile unzipped Emma’s little skirt and pulled it off, leaving Emma in just her panties. At that moment Emma gasped, and suddenly the back of her panties expanded upwards as a long soft rope of shit slid swiftly out of her rectum and built up into a grapefruit-sized mound, which then oozed downwards, pouring down her gusset and stroking her clitoris as it filled the front of her panties. She shuddered in orgasm.

“Oh, nasty!” said Chloe, wrinkling her nose.

“You just wait,” said Poppy with a grin. Then she turned a petulant eye on Emma. “Hey Emma, you’re marrying me, remember?”

This had the desired effect, as Rosie broke off from kissing Emma and stared in startlement at Poppy. Emma glanced back in annoyance. Chloe was as taken aback as Rosie. “You too are getting married?”

“We’re hoping to,” said Emma. “Poppy’s done some research and she thinks it’ll be legal.”

“Well … congratulations, I guess,” said Chloe. “What do your parents think about it?”

“We haven’t told them yet,” said Poppy.

Chloe chuckled. “Yeah, well good luck when you do. I think they might just object to the idea.”

“They can’t stop us,” said Poppy defiantly. “We’re both of legal age.”

Chloe held up her hands. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pour cold water on it. I’m happy for you – really.”

Emma climbed off Rosie and smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “You know, maybe we should rehearse – we do after all have a recording session booked for this weekend. It would be a shame if we sucked.”

“True,” agreed Chloe. “Fine, we’ll rehearse – but perhaps you could change your panties first?”

Emma chuckled. “Fine, I…”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Rosie. The others looked down in time to see a lumpy mass of poo piling up between Rosie’s spread legs. Her cheeks were bright red. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “Your couch…”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Emma. “You think we’re not doing stuff like that all the time here?”

“Oookaaay, I’m out of here,” said Chloe. “Have fun cleaning up, girls.”

“You’re leaving?” asked Emma.

“Yup – too much shit around here for me,” said Chloe.

Emma was sorry to see her go, but also secretly glad. After she had seen Chloe to the front door (still wearing her shit-filled panties), she returned to the living room and grinned. “Who wants to come upstairs and get messy?” she asked.

“Me!” said Poppy.

“Um … how messy?” asked Rosie. “I’m still getting used to having shit in my panties – I’m not sure how much messier than that I want to get…”

“Okay,” said Emma, “then we’ll use my bedroom. You can leave your clothes here.”

Poppy excitedly pulled Rosie off the couch, and the two naked girls hurried upstairs past a very surprised Grant. Emma followed more slowly, being careful of her bulging panties. When she reached her bedroom, she shut the door behind her. “Poppy,” she said, “Rosie’s arse is messy. Perhaps you would like to clean it for her?”

Poppy licked her lips. “Yes please!” she said. She guided Rosie on to all fours on Emma’s bed, and then she started licking Rosie’s shit-smeared buttocks and anus.

“Eww!” said Rosie. “Doesn’t that taste nasty?”

“Poppy likes it,” said Emma. “Don’t you Poppy?”

“Mm-hmm,” replied Poppy, her face buried between Rosie’s buttocks. Rosie closed her eyes and smiled slightly at the fourteen-year-old’s attentions.

Emma smiled. Then she left the room and fetched Lara’s dildo from Poppy’s room. It was still attached to the largest sac, and so she spent a few minutes filling the sac with fresh shit from her panties. Then she returned to her own room, where Poppy and Rosie were now sixty-nining each other. “Move your head, Poppy,” she said.

Poppy did so, and Emma placed the tip of the dildo at Rosie’s very moist opening. Pushing it forward slowly, Emma slid it easily into Rosie’s cunt. “I’m guessing you’re not a virgin?” she said.

Rosie removed her mouth from Poppy’s pussy long enough to say “No – I had a boyfriend for a year or so. He moved to London two months ago and we haven’t spoken since.”

“Don’t make her talk!” said Poppy. Then she sighed happily as Rosie started sucking her clitoris again.

Emma gave a firm squeeze on the shit-filled sac, and Rosie uttered a muffled moan of pleasure. Continuing to squish the sac as hard as she could, Emma slowly withdrew the dildo as Rosie’s cunt filled up with her shit. As the sac emptied, Emma popped the dildo free, tossing it on to the floor. A thick slug of shit started oozing out of Rosie’s vaginal opening.

“Oh God!” said Rosie. “What have you done to me? I feel so full!”

“Is it nice?” asked Poppy. She pressed her tongue against the oozing shit and attempted to push it back inside Rosie.

“Yes, but – oh my God, is it shit?”

“It is,” said Emma.

“Oh that’s so disgusting,” muttered Rosie, but she made no further objection, only a series of excited moans as Poppy suckled on her clitoris.

Their three-way lovemaking lasted for almost an hour, at the end of which Lara knocked on the door and announced that Rosie’s mother was downstairs.

Rosie sat up in shock. “Oh no!” she said, thinking of her pile of shit on the couch. Then she added, “Oh no!” as she remembered that her clothes were still in the living room. Even assuming her mother had not seen them already, how was she going to get them without her mother seeing her naked?

The problem was not lost on Emma. “I’ll go and see if I can get your clothes,” she said. She shuffled out from beneath Poppy, and put on a short dress and some shoes. Trotting downstairs, she discovered with relief that Grant was keeping Rosie’s mother talking in the hall.

“Hello Mrs Butler,” she said. “Rosie will be right down – she’s just figuring out some dance moves upstairs with Poppy.”

“Hello dear,” said Mrs Butler. “Nice to meet you.”

Emma retrieved Rosie’s clothes, took them into the kitchen, and shoved them into a polythene shopping bag. Then she hurried upstairs, smiling at Rosie’s mother as she went. Back in her room, she emptied out the bag, and Rosie gratefully got dressed.

“You might want to fix your hair,” said Emma. “And you’ve still got some of Poppy’s shit on your cheek.”

Half an hour earlier, Rosie had narrowly avoided getting a mouthful of shit when Poppy’s bowels suddenly evacuated all over her face. “Thanks,” she said, going to the mirror.

At the top of the stairs, just out of sight of Grant and Mrs Butler, Rosie turned to Emma. “I had fun tonight,” she said with a smile.

“So did we,” said Emma. She leaned forward and kissed Rosie, who responded with enthusiasm. Their kiss turned into a clinch, and Emma reached down, lifted Rosie’s skirt, and stroked her clitoris through her panties. Rosie moaned with pleasure.

“My turn,” said Poppy, as she gently eased the two of them apart. She kissed Rosie on the lips, and slipped her hand inside Rosie’s panties as they wrestled tongues.

“Stop, or you’ll make me cum again!” said Rosie breathlessly.

Emma smiled and put her arm around Poppy’s waist. “Hey Rosie, would you like to be a bridesmaid at our wedding?”

“Ooh yes!” said Poppy. “That’s a great idea.”

“I’d love to,” said Rosie. “Assuming Mum and Dad let me come.” She looked troubled for a moment, but then she said, “You know what? I don’t care what they say. By hook or by crook, I’ll be there.”

Poppy grinned. “Cool!” she said.

“I should warn you,” said Emma, “that the bridesmaids’ dresses are likely to be quite skimpy.”

“Very skimpy,” added Poppy, giggling.

“That’s okay,” said Rosie, smiling shyly. “It’s your wedding – I’ll wear whatever you put me in. Oh but that reminds me – have you seen Carrie West’s new video?”

“No,” said Emma. “Is it good?”

“Just watch it,” said Rosie, smiling. “I think you’ll like it.” With that she trotted downstairs, and Emma and Poppy heard her say, “Hi Mum!”

“Well,” said Emma, “did you have fun?”

“Mostly,” said Poppy. “When you weren’t ignoring me for Rosie.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you!” said Emma, exasperated. “If we’re to have fun with other girls, you’re going to have to let go of your jealousy.”

Poppy pouted. “Just because you’re having sex with another girl doesn’t mean you can forget about your fiancée.”

Emma sighed. “Poppy, if I’m French-kissing another girl, or licking her pussy … just how do you expect me to include you in that?”

Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips. “I guess it takes some getting used to – seeing you have sex with someone else.”

Emma nodded. “I know what you mean. But you did get your fair share of Rosie – be honest.”

“I suppose so,” said Poppy. “Oh well – shall we check out this video Rosie was talking about?”

A minute later they had found it on the web. One of their favourite pop stars, Carrie West was known for breaking new ground in her videos, but in a year when nearly all the female singers were getting naked or semi-naked, the thing that set her apart was the context of her own nudity. Many singers stripped as they danced in the rain or on stage, but Carrie was more original than that.

In this new video, Wicked Wedding, she was singing about the two men who wanted to marry her. As she marched down the aisle in a beautiful crotch-length wedding dress, her white panties peeping beneath her hem with each step, one of her suitors appeared to be the groom at the front of the church. The other was a guest, his dark eyes flashing with jealousy. As the song progressed, and the happy couple began to exchange vows, the angry guest leaped into the aisle and ran to the front of the church. He fell on his knees before Carrie and, in a little verse of his own, expressed eloquently why he should be the one to marry her.

As Carrie looked unsure of herself, and sang about how she loved both men, the groom attacked the guest, punching him to the floor. Carrie immediately dropped to the side of the fallen man – clearly her feelings were shifting in his direction. She helped him up, giving the camera a long look at her panties, and then she started walking back down the aisle with him. This infuriated the groom, who ran after them, grabbed Carrie, and started dragging her back to the front of the church.

The guest lunged for Carrie, got hold of the back of her dress, and pulled. In slow-motion the dress ripped apart and came clean off, ending up in the guest’s hands. Carrie was left wearing just a thong, a blue garter around her thigh, and her shoes. She had naturally large, full breasts, on which the camera lovingly lingered.

“Ha – I can see why Rosie likes this video,” said Poppy with a smirk.

Carrie, making no attempt to cover her breasts, implored the groom to let her go, which he eventually did. As he stood there heartbroken, Carrie retreated down the aisle with the guest. Then she stopped, took off her thong, and threw it to the groom, who caught it and pressed it to his cheek.

“Nice!” said Emma, impressed – Carrie’s pussy was clean-shaven.

Naked and apparently unconcerned by this, Carrie ran laughing out of the church, hand in hand with the guest, and on the street outside they stopped to kiss. Then she turned around in his arms, and turning her head up and back, she continued to kiss him while he fondled her left breast with one hand and reached for her pussy with the other. As he rubbed her clitoris with his forefinger, her singing lapsed into moans, which continued as both the sound and the picture faded.

“Wow – awesome video!” said Poppy, and Emma nodded.

Lara opened the door and entered. “Hi,” she said. “How was your rehearsal? Did you do any actual rehearsing?”

Emma grinned. “Not much,” she said. “Take off your dress and come and sit with us.”

Lara pulled her dress up over her head. “Do you realise that’s my longest dress now? I spent most of the last two days shortening everything I have.”

“Good for you!” said Emma. “That one still covers your panties, though – you’ll have to do something about that.”

“Okay,” said Lara, sighing as she pondered the disappearance of her last option for remaining decent in public. She sat down between Emma and Poppy, wearing just a pair of shit-filled panties.

“Want to see a movie we made?” asked Emma.

“Oh! Sure,” said Lara, surprised. “What kind of movie?”

“We call it ‘Emma and Poppy’s Toilet Adventure’,” said Emma.

“Ah,” said Lara. “I see. All right then.”

Emma switched on her projector and pointed it towards the far wall. She started the movie and then bent down to suckle on her mother’s large breast.

“Oh my!” said Lara as she watched Poppy sit down on the huge pile of shit, and sink down into the bowl. “Where the heck was this?”

“The public toilet in town,” said Emma. “Keep watching.” She reached into Lara’s panties and started rubbing her pussy. Her fingers sank into Lara’s shit, which she scooped up and squished against Lara’s clitoris.

“Oh – that’s disgusting,” gasped Lara, as she watched Emma lowering herself into the other toilet.

“Oh no – oh my God!” she exclaimed in anguish, as she watched the bikers defecate and pee all over her daughters. “Oh … oh!”

“Poppy, take over,” said Emma, gesturing to their mother’s pussy.

Poppy got down on her hands and knees and put her face between Lara’s legs. Pulling her mother’s panties to one side, she started licking and sucking on Lara’s clitoris.

“Oh God – oh yes that’s so good,” moaned Lara. “Oh dear, what are they doing to you? Oh no!!” She put her hands to her cheeks, horrified to see Emma bent over and brutally raped. “Oh my gosh, I need to call the police!”

She tried to get up, but Emma held her down. “It’s okay Mum,” she said. She started to knead Lara’s breasts with her hands. “Just enjoy what Poppy is doing to you.”

“Oh I am, I am,” moaned Lara. “Oh dear, my poor girls – they’re raping you! Ohhh…”

As the rape continued, Poppy brought Lara closer and closer to orgasm, but never quite let her get there. Soon Lara was almost screaming with frustration. “Oh please Poppy, make me cum! Please make your mummy cum, my love!”

“Look Mum,” said Emma. “Look at me crying my eyes out while my anus is being raped. How does that make you feel?”

“Ohhh … ohhh … it’s awful…” gasped Lara. “Ohhhh!”

“But you’re turned on, right?” pressed Emma. “Isn’t it making you horny?”

Lara spread her legs wider and gyrated her pussy against Poppy’s face. “Ohhh…” she moaned, still watching the screen. “Oh, my precious babies … gang-raped… Oh my God that guy’s got a big penis…”

“He’s about to stick it in Poppy’s arsehole,” said Emma, pinching Lara’s nipples. “Does that excite you?”

“Ohhh … ohhh, yes…” breathed Lara. “Oh yes, Big Penis Guy, shove that cock up my daughter’s arse!” Then she screamed with delight as Poppy simultaneously brought her to orgasm, and screamed in pain in the movie as the huge biker cock slid up her rectum. “Yes! Yes!” cried Lara in ecstasy. “Rape my daughter! Rape my Poppy! Fuck her arse! Make her scream!”

Then the scene switched to Emma, who was being simultaneously vaginally and anally raped by two huge bikers. “Look Mum!” whispered Emma in Lara’s ear. “Look what they’re doing to me! What would you like to say to them?”

“Fuck her!” shouted Lara, still writhing in orgasmic bliss as Poppy continued sucking on her clitoris. “Rape my Emma! Do it, you big brutes! Pound your big cocks into her precious little body! Rape her! Rape my daughter! Rape both my daughters! Ahhhhhh!!!!”

Poppy stopped sucking on Lara’s clitoris, and looked up, rather shocked, at Emma, who grinned and winked at her. Slightly reassured, Poppy went back to her sucking, and for the rest of the movie she alternated between keeping Lara on the verge of orgasm, and pushing her over the edge at opportune moments.

Afterwards, Lara got to her feet, swaying on the spot as if drunk. “Oh God that was intense,” she said. “Oh babes, I’m sorry I said all those horrible things. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It was turning you on, though, wasn’t it – watching us getting raped?” asked Emma.

Lara blushed. “I guess it was,” she said. “Of course, it helped that I knew you were safe now. If I saw it really happening, it would be very different.”

Emma smiled. “Yes – you’d probably offer yourself up for rape too.”

“No!” said Lara. “I’d stop them … I’d ask them to stop.” She paused, frowning. “I think.”

“It’s all right, Mum,” Emma reassured her. “We enjoyed it, really. Or at least, we enjoyed some of it. And the rest we enjoyed later, when we thought back on it.”

Lara sighed. “I’m going to Hell,” she moaned, half to herself, shaking her head as she left the room.

“Emma!” exclaimed Poppy. “What did we just do to her?”

Emma grinned. “We kind of messed with her head a bit. I got the idea from The Clockwork Orange – you know, that movie with Dean Sawyer.”

“I didn’t see it,” said Poppy. “Wasn’t it a really bad remake of an old 2D movie?”

“It may have been a remake,” said Emma, shrugging. “I thought it was pretty cool though. Anyway in the movie this violent criminal is put through this treatment in which he watches various rapes and tortures on a screen while being given a drug which makes him feel gross. So afterwards, he always associates violence with feeling gross. And thus he can be released back into society.”

“But … we just did the opposite?” said Poppy.

“Right,” said Emma, smiling. “We just gave Mum the time of her life while she watched us being raped. Now she’ll always be turned on by rape. At least that’s the theory – I’m sure it probably won’t work.”

Poppy shivered. “What if it does?”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe she’ll get raped, and enjoy it. Who knows?”

“Emma, that’s kind of sick,” said Poppy. Then she smiled. “Nice job!” They both laughed.

******************

Wandering into her bedroom in just her messy panties, Lara stopped at the sight of Grant tying ropes to the four posts at the corners of the bed. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” he said grimly. He finished tying one of the knots, then stopped. “What the hell was that all about?” he demanded. “Rape my daughters?”

Lara blushed. “We were kind of role-playing,” she said. “It was harmless – really.”

“I don’t like it,” said Grant, shaking his head. “Not at all. I’ll go and talk to them in a minute. But first, I want you to take off those disgusting panties, clean your bottom, and lie down on this bed.” He had pulled the covers all the way back.

“All right,” said Lara. “Give me a minute.”

She went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up, brushed her teeth, and removed her make-up. When she returned to the bedroom, she meekly climbed on to the bed and lay down, naked, with her arms and legs spread. “Is this how you want me?” she asked.

Grant nodded. “Good,” he said. He picked up a jar of liquid honey from the floor and squirted it all over Lara’s body, from her feet all the way up to her neck. She squealed at the cold touch. “Rub that in all over,” Grant ordered her.

Obediently Lara rubbed the honey into every part of her skin. “My face too?” she asked.

“No,” said Grant. “Just up to your neck.” He waited patiently, then he opened a bag of flour and shook it carefully over each leg, then on her pussy, up her belly, on her breasts and upper chest, then along each arm. Satisfied, he put the flour down, then he took a metal object from a drawer in his bedside table.

“Ugh,” said Lara. “Did Neil give you that?” She had been to the gynaecologist enough times to recognise a speculum when she saw one.

Grant nodded. He put one knee on the bed and then leaned down close to Lara’s pussy. He regarded her neatly-trimmed pubic hair for a moment, then said, “From now on, shave.”

“Um, okay,” said Lara, and then she gasped as the cold steel penetrated her hot, wet cunt.

Grant turned the screw a few times, cranking the speculum apart until he could see deep into Lara’s body. Then he stood up and, one after the other, tied Lara’s wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. “Try to escape,” he said.

Lara struggled hard, but the ropes bit into her flesh. “Ow,” she said. “The ropes are hurting me.”

“They’re not so tight that they’re going to cut off your circulation,” said Grant, “and I’ve tied them in such a way that they won’t get any tighter if you struggle. That said, it’s going to be more comfortable for you if you don’t struggle, so you might as well not bother trying to escape.”

“I won’t,” promised Lara.

“You might, after a few hours,” said Grant. “Just remember that it’s pointless.”

He pulled the top sheet up from the foot of the bed, and laid it carefully over her. He tucked it in securely at either side, then he took a needle and thread and sewed the upper end to the bottom sheet, leaving absolutely no room either side of her neck. Lara was now at the centre of a wide, flat space between the top and bottom sheets, and she figured she knew what Grant had in mind.

“Are you going to put something in here with me?” she asked nervously.

Grant smiled, and picked up the cardboard box that Poppy had brought home. Lara could hear rustling from within. Grant untucked one side of the upper sheet and pulled it back until it exposed Lara’s left leg. As quickly as possible, he opened the box and up-ended it over Lara’s leg. There were more than two hundred cockroaches in the box, and they all spilled out over Lara’s leg, some of them falling between her legs, others falling on to the sheet outside of her leg. She squealed in horror. Grant quickly pulled the sheet back to the edge of the bed and tucked it in. The roaches moved like lightning, but he only lost a couple – the rest were now trapped in the bed with Lara. There was no way for them to get out – they would just have to spend the night with her. At least they would have plenty of food.

“Eww, I can feel them crawling all over me!” squealed Lara in disgust. “Oh no – oh no!! They’re going inside me!”

Grant grinned and massaged his crotch. “That’s the idea,” he said. He pulled the duvet up to cover her, then he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Goodnight, darling.” He left the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind him, leaving her in the pitch dark. He listened for a while, chuckling as he heard her whimper, then squeal, then whimper again. He stuck his hand into his trousers, and smiled gleefully as he heard her cry out, “Grant! Grant! Help! Please – they’re crawling inside me – I can’t take this! Grant!” As she continued to shriek and cry, he closed his eyes and masturbated while he listened. Then she screamed, and he groaned as he came into his boxer shorts. Panting heavily, he headed downstairs – he would be spending tonight on the couch.

Or so he thought. But a minute later he found himself staring at the big pile of Rosie’s shit, which was still sitting in the middle of one of the cushions. Sighing heavily, he climbed the stairs again and got into bed in the spare bedroom.

******************

“Come to bed, Emma,” urged Poppy.

“Just a minute,” said Emma. She was typing up a new entry into her blog. With a shiver, she found herself typing: ‘Check out Poppy and me being raped in a public toilet!’, and inserting a link to the movie they had created. As she hit the Save button, she wondered whether anyone at school would see it…

******************

Lara’s nerves were completely fried by the following morning, when Grant came to release her. She gibbered and sobbed uncontrollably as he slowly and deliberately unpicked the stitches he had sewn the night before. Then he pulled the sheet back, and shivered with delight as he saw the roaches covering her body, eating the food with which he had coated her. Then he chuckled as he saw one large cockroach crawl out of her gaping cunt, and grinned happily as another ran inside her.

“How are you this morning?” he asked.

“Oh G…G…Grant!” sobbed Lara. “P…please get them off me! Please! I’ll do anything!”

“Promise you’ll never leave me, no matter how many times I do stuff like this to you,” he said.

“I p…p…promise!” cried Lara.

“Jeez Dad!” exclaimed Emma, staring at Lara from the doorway. “What the fuck?”

“Go to your room!” barked Grant.

Emma retreated hastily, and hurried to tell Poppy what she had seen.

“Poor Mum!” said Poppy, alarmed. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” said Emma. “We should definitely talk to her though, after Dad leaves.”

Poppy nodded, and together they waited until they heard the sound of his car leaving for work. Then they rushed through to Lara’s bedroom, only to find she was not there.

Trotting downstairs, they found her in the kitchen, cracking eggs into a frying pan. “Good morning, darlings,” she said to them with a smile. “Scrambled eggs?” She was wearing an apron and a pair of panties – clean ones, for once. The apron had long shoulder straps and a low neckline, so her breasts were most inadequately covered – her nipples kept popping one side or other of the straps every time she turned.

“Um, no thanks,” said Emma. “Just Brantasia for us. But … Mum … are you okay?”

“I’m just fine, thank you,” said Lara.

“But … you were screaming…” said Poppy.

“And crying,” added Emma. “You were really flipping out over those cockroaches.”

Lara smiled at them fondly. “Oh darlings, it’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I was fine, really. Your dad has quite a cruel streak, it seems, and it excited him to think that I was terrified and hating every minute of it. So, I gave him what he wanted.”

“So … you didn’t mind all those roaches climbing over you?” asked Poppy in surprise.

“Not at all,” said Lara. “They did kind of tickle, but actually it was quite fun. For a while, at least – my arms were killing me by this morning though. Your dad tied them in a very uncomfortable position.”

Emma laughed in relief. “Thank goodness!” she said. “I was worried Dad was going to drive you insane.”

“Heavens, no,” said Lara, laughing too. Then she paused, squatted slightly, and reached into her panties. When she pulled her hand out, she was holding a struggling cockroach between her finger and thumb. “I think I still have a few of these inside me,” she said. “I can feel them moving around.” She tossed it on to the floor.

“Mum!” said Poppy, appalled. “Don’t let it loose – the house will become infested!”

“Crumbs, it’s a bit late to worry about that,” said Lara. “Most of the rest of them have scurried away to who knows what dark corners of the house. Your dad didn’t seem too interested in keeping them confined this morning. I think he wants the house to become infested.”

“Ugh,” said Poppy with a shudder. “That won’t be much fun – I hate bugs.”

“So what are you wearing to school today?” asked Lara, changing the subject. “It’s your last day, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded. “Just panties,” she said. “Until I crap in them, then I’ll have to wear nothing for the rest of the day.”

“I’m not going to bother wearing anything at all,” said Poppy. “There doesn’t seem much point.”

“Whatever happened to the labels the government was requiring you to wear?” asked Lara.

Emma shrugged. “They went out with tops,” she said.

“Hmm,” said Lara. “Well perhaps instead we could write something on your chests in felt-tip.”

“Cool!” said Poppy. “I hadn’t thought of that – that’s a great idea.”

Emma grinned and fetched a black marker pen from the bureau in the hall. “What shall I write on your chest, Poppy?” she asked.

Poppy thought for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “How about: ‘I WAS GANG-RAPED – AND LOVED IT’.”

“Oh dear,” Lara fretted. “That’s pretty extreme isn’t it?”

But Emma was already writing. “…And … loved … it,” she said. “There!”

“Now it’s your turn,” said Poppy, taking the marker pen. “What shall I write?”

“Hmm,” said Emma. “What about: ‘MY CUNT IS FULL OF DOG-SHIT’?”

“Gross!” exclaimed Poppy, screwing up her face. “I love it!”

“It’s hardly going to make the boys want to have sex with you, though,” said Lara. “I thought that was the idea. Besides, it isn’t true.”

“Not yet … but perhaps I could take Ben and Solomon out before we go to school,” said Emma. “That would save you a chore, and I’ll soon have some nice dog shit to stuff inside me.”

“Oh dear – that really doesn’t sound healthy…” said Lara, but she knew she had very little say in the matter.

******************

Both Ben and Solomon habitually produced satisfyingly large stools, but they were typically rather soft, so Emma cleaned out the large sac she had been using with her mother’s dildo, and took it with her when she and Poppy walked the dogs. Walking, however, seemed far from either dog’s mind, as they sniffed eagerly at both girls’ panties.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Poppy asked Emma, smiling naughtily.

“About whether crocodiles have two-chambered or four-chambered hearts?” said Emma.

“What?” said Poppy, startled.

Emma laughed. “That’s what I was thinking about,” she said. “Sorry – I was miles away. What were you thinking about?”

“That we should have sex with these dogs,” said Poppy.

“Oh!” said Emma, looking down at Ben, who was nosing her pussy through her panties. “Well they certainly seem keen. Shall we give it a try?”

“Yes please!” said Poppy. She pulled down her panties and hopped out of them, then she got down on to all fours and stuck her bottom in the air. Solomon immediately started licking her anus, which made her giggle. “That’s not what I want, Solomon!” she said.

Emma pulled down her own panties and got into a similar position next to Poppy. “Do we just wait and hope for the best?” she asked.

“Don’t ask me,” said Poppy. “I haven’t done this before. They do tend to hump anything that moves, given time … oh, here we go.” Solomon had mounted her and was thrusting ineffectually up towards her pussy.

“You need to be lower,” said Emma. “Spread your knees wider and lower your bottom.”

Poppy did so, and then reached back to grasp Solomon’s red penis. Guiding it towards her vagina, she gasped as he managed to thrust it a couple of inches inside her. Encouraged, he began hammering away in the same spot, and soon he was buried to the hilt and fucking Poppy as if his life depended on it. She, for her part, was uttering short little moans and rubbing furiously at her clitoris.

Ben had by now got the same idea, and with a little help from Emma’s hand he managed to bury himself inside her cunt. This was very different from Monday’s rapes – partly because neither the bikers nor Steven had dug claws into her back.

“Ow … ow!” she said. “Damnit, Ben!” Then, “Woah – ow!” she added as she felt something like a hard ball trying to push its way inside her. It popped in, finally, and she felt a rush of fluid within her body. “Whew!” she said. “All right Ben – get off.”

But Ben was stuck. He attempted to dismount, but he was now tied to her by the size of his knot, which was buried in her cunt. Emma cursed. “Damnit, Poppy, I forgot about their knots – don’t let Solomon get his inside you!”

“Too late!” muttered Poppy, and then she shuddered in orgasm. “Oh yes … thank you Solomon!”

Ben had actually dismounted and was trying to walk away from Emma, despite the fact that his penis was still inside her. “Ben, stop!” she pleaded as she was dragged after him, and then, “Ouch!” she yelped, as his knot popped free. She clutched her pussy, biting her lip from the pain. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to grab his leash before he wandered too far.

Poppy seemed to have less trouble with Solomon, and the two disengaged with only a small yelp from Poppy. Picking themselves up, and walking slightly bow-legged, the two girls continued with their walk, until Ben stopped and squatted.

“Aha!” said Poppy.

As usual it was a large, soft turd, and it smelled awful. Emma recoiled as she picked it up. “Eww this is nasty,” she said.

“Let me see,” said Poppy, and she leaned in close for a fascinated look. “And you’re seriously going to put this in your cunt? Oh … oh look … gross! There are little wormy things in it!”

“Really?” said Emma, and she took a closer look herself. Sure enough there were lots of tiny white worms wriggling about in the poo.

“Are you still going to put that inside you?” asked Poppy.

Emma shivered. She had done a lot of disgusting things over the last few days, but this would cap them all. “Yup,” she said. “Worms and all.” She looked down at the Great Dane. “We should get Ben to a vet pretty soon though. Poor boy – I didn’t know you had worms.” She sighed, then started pushing the turd into the plastic sac. It was a tricky job since it was so soft, but she managed. Then she looked down at the Mastiff. “How about you, Solomon – need to take a dump?”

But Solomon waited until ten minutes later before emptying his own bowels. His turds were free of worms, but they were larger and firmer than Ben’s, and Emma had less trouble posting it into the sac. Then she screwed the cap tightly on to the sac, pulled her panties aside, and pushed the dildo deep into her vagina. She handed the sac to Poppy. “Want to do the honours?”

Poppy squeezed, and Emma shivered with a mixture of revulsion and excitement as her cunt filled with soft, warm, worm-ridden dog-shit. When Poppy had emptied the sac she pulled out the dildo and replaced her panties. “Awesome,” she said with a smile.

Poppy grinned. “Time to go and write on your chest,” she said.

******************

The writing on their chests brought them plenty of attention at school that day, and Poppy found herself groped more frequently than on any previous day. Halfway through the morning, Emma crapped in her panties, and after cleaning up was obliged to remain naked for the rest of the day. Many other girls found themselves in this situation, but it was worse for Emma, because the dog-shit in her cunt, coupled with her constant arousal at feeling it inside her, resulted in a steady trickle of brown juice from her cunt, which kept running down the insides of her thighs and smelled strongly of dog-shit. This earned her a lot of taunts and jeers, but it had the positive effect of keeping Steven at bay – he took one look at her chest, sniffed the air, and hurried on his way with a shake of his head.

Prize-giving did, indeed, include some swimming awards, but Poppy had not won either of her events and only picked up a bronze medal for the fifty-metres breast-stroke. After prize-giving was the end-of-year concert, in which various musically gifted pupils played short pieces to show off their talent. Emma in previous years had played the violin at these concerts, but although she was good at it she had never enjoyed it, and had been relieved when her parents allowed her to give it up so she could concentrate on her academic subjects.

The concert was only halfway through when something started happening behind the orchestra. This room was also used for showing films to the pupils, on a large wall-screen at the front of the room. As a sixth-form string quartet began to play a Vivaldi piece, the wall-screen flickered into life, and a collective gasp arose from the assembled pupils and parents.

A larger-than-life Poppy, covered in shit, was being lifted out of a filthy toilet bowl by a couple of hefty bikers. Although her face bore brown streaks, she was still perfectly recognisable. As her rape commenced, the headmaster, his face livid with fury, got to his feet and ran from the room. A minute later, the wall-screen went black.

The string quartet had fallen silent and was standing around uncertainly. The hall was filled with murmurs, and everyone around Poppy was plying her with questions.

“What the hell was that?”

“Did they all rape you? How many of them were there?”

“How did you get into that mess in the first place?”

“I bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you, you filthy slut…”

Poppy just buried her face in her hands. She was feeling utterly humiliated … yet also incredibly turned-on. As attention around her was diverted by the return of the headmaster, she seized the opportunity to masturbate.

“I don’t know who hijacked the wall-screen,” he boomed in fury, “but I shall find out! And when I do, there will be hell to pay!” Then, in a quieter voice, he said, “I do apologise to the parents for that shocking display. I have password-locked access to the wall-screen’s controls, so there will not be a repeat. Violinists, please, play on.”

Nobody, however, was paying much attention to the music any more, and the room was filled with whispered conversation for the rest of the concert. Afterwards, all the school’s pupils dispersed to their various homes. As Poppy and Emma left with Lara, Steven came up to them outside the front gate. Emma scowled at him.

“Hi Poppy,” he said. “Nice movie.” He grinned, then turned to Emma. “Speaking of which – would you like to go to the movies with me?”

“No!” she replied. “Fuck off!”

“Emma!” said Lara. “Language!”

“Mum, he raped me!” said Emma.

“What?” said Lara. She narrowed her eyes and turned on Steven.

Steven held his hands up defensively. “Look, she’s been flaunting herself all over the school – she should count herself lucky that she caught the attention of someone with both a healthy libido and a high sperm count. That’s pretty rare these days.”

“Ha!” said Emma. She raised her voice. “Steven Darrow’s a rapist!” she yelled. “And he’s got a tiny little dick!”

Steven’s cheeks flushed. “Shut up,” he said.

But Poppy, laughing, took up Emma’s chant, and the two girls chorused, “Steven’s got a tiny dick, Steven’s got a tiny dick…”

Steven’s fists clenched and unclenched. Then he turned on his heel and marched away.

“We have to call the police!” exclaimed Lara.

“What’s the point?” said Emma. “It’s practically impossible to convict someone of rape these days, and the police know it. Plus, with that movie we made, nobody’s going to believe I don’t like being raped. Let’s just go home. It doesn’t matter – I’m over it.”

Lara watched Steven’s retreating figure with a stern glare, but then she sighed. “Well I suppose it does kind of pale into insignificance when compared to your ordeal in the public toilets,” she said. “But however did someone get hold of your movie?”

Emma blushed and shrugged. “No idea,” she said. “Maybe they downloaded it from my phone while I was showering.”

******************

Midway through the afternoon, as Emma and Poppy were lying in Poppy’s bed, smearing shit all over each other, Emma’s phone rang. She wiped her hand as clean as possible on the only bit of non-shitty duvet she could see, then answered it. Chloe’s face appeared.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Chloe, averting her eyes. “Mind if I put you on audio-only?”

“Be my guest,” said Emma. “What’s up?”

“Well, I figured I ought to tell you – you were right,” said Chloe. “All three of you.”

“About what?” asked Emma.

“The Brantasia. Oh my God, what a feeling!”

Emma grinned. “Enjoyed it, did you? Do tell.”

“Well,” said Chloe, “I was determined not to do it in my panties, but I guess you know how hard that is to avoid. I had no idea how suddenly it would come out – and with how little warning. I was wandering the perfume counters at Debenham’s when it all came out. Oh my God – it was so embarrassing!”

Emma began rubbing her clitoris with her free hand. “What were you wearing?”

“Oh, I had on these little white hotpants, with no panties underneath. Tight, but stretchy – and very skimpy – they show at least half of my bottom. High-cut at the sides, you know.”

“I know the type,” said Emma.

“Well, as you can imagine they didn’t manage to hold all of the shit, so I was dripping great chunks of the stuff as I ran for the ladies’. I was totally mortified, yet also highly aroused by the incredible sensation of shitting so smoothly and beautifully – then as I ran I suppose the shit must have been oozing forwards or something, because the next thing I knew, I was collapsing to my knees in one of the best orgasms ever! It was so humiliating to cum like that in front of so many people in the store, but as I struggled to my feet and carried on walking, I just kept getting hit with orgasm after orgasm! By the time I got to the toilet, I was thinking to myself – screw the embarrassment, this is fucking awesome!”

Emma laughed. “So did you clean up, or what?”

“Oh yes – after another couple of orgasms. I managed to get the hotpants mostly clean, but I didn’t enjoy wearing them home wet.”

“So, are you going to keep eating Brantasia?” inquired Emma.

Chloe chuckled. “I suppose I am,” she said. “Having experienced the effects once, I’d say I’m officially hooked. But I’m still not into all the smearing and stuff that you and your sister enjoy. Did you two have fun with Rosie last night?”

“We did,” said Emma with a smile. “She didn’t stay all that long though. I gather her parents keep her on quite a short leash.”

“That’ll have to change once we start touring,” said Chloe. “My God, think of the parties we’ll have!”

Emma smiled as she thought of the parties. “Wow,” she said, “touring’s going to be great!”

Chloe laughed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Saturday. Oh – I gather Terry’s going to be there, so make sure you wear something conservative. We don’t want him freaking out and pulling the plug.”

Emma nodded. “Thanks for the warning,” she said.

******************

After supper that evening, the doorbell rang. Lara, who was washing the dishes in just a pair of fresh panties, panicked as she tried to remember where her dress was. Then, on an impulse, she threw caution to the wind, walked straight up to the front door, and opened it.

It was Steven.

“What are you doing here?” asked Lara, frowning. She covered her breasts with her hands.

Steven was carrying a bunch of flowers. “My God, you must be the sexiest mum I’ve ever seen!” he said with wide eyes.

“That’s as may be,” said Lara, flattered despite herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I came to offer Emma my apologies, and these flowers,” he said. “I was hoping she might accompany me to a party tonight. It’s to celebrate the end of term.”

Lara stared at him. “You want a date with my daughter, after raping her?”

“Look,” said Steven. “She’s a lustful young wench who loves male attention. She wanted it, really, and she enjoyed it too. Come on – you know she wanted it.”

“I know no such thing,” said Lara, still frowning.

Steven stepped up to her. “Of course you do,” he said, his face inches from hers. “You’re a hot little number yourself. You love to be naked around other people – even strangers.” He pulled a lily out of the bunch of flowers he was carrying, and slowly brushed along the inner curve of Lara’s breast with the petals. “I can see where Emma gets her looks from,” he murmured. “She has your eyes. Beautiful eyes.”

“Yes, well,” said Lara, a little breathlessly. She backed away from his touch. “Thank you, but I’m really not interested in what you think about my eyes. What concerns me is that you raped my daughter, and she hates you for it, so there’s no point in your…”

She broke off as Steven, advancing, ran the lily up her neck, along the line of her chin, up her cheek, down again, and then brought it back to her breast. He dropped the rest of the flowers on the floor and took hold of one of her wrists, prying it away from her breast. Then he started caressing her exposed nipple with the lily.

Lara had backed up all the way to the wall and could retreat no further. She looked up into Steven’s penetrating eyes. “What, you’re going to rape me too?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

Steven reached down and cupped Lara’s pussy through her panties. He gently pressed his middle finger into the groove between her labia, and slowly massaged her clitoris. “No, I’m not going to rape you,” he said in a low voice. “But think about it – would it be so bad? I’m young, strong, virile – and I find you to be an incredibly exciting, sexy, beautiful woman. Is that so awful?”

Lara dropped both her hands and pressed her palms against the wall behind her. Involuntarily she began undulating her pussy against Steven’s finger. “Well,” she murmured, “it’s not … it’s just … um … oh God…”

Steven continued to stroke her nipples as he lifted his hand up and then slid it down again, this time inside Lara’s panties. Lara gasped as he contacted her clitoris directly. “Don’t you think,” said Steven, “it might be … nice … to be raped by me?”

Lara closed her eyes and moaned. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes – it would be nice.”

“And don’t you think Emma probably enjoyed it?” he murmured.

“Yes,” gasped Lara. “She must have.”

“And don’t you think she should give me a chance to apologise, and give her these flowers?”

“Yes!” said Lara. “It’s … only fair…”

Steven reached down further and slipped two fingers into Lara’s cunt. “And don’t you think she’d have a good time if she went with me to this party tonight?”

“Yes – I’m sure she would,” moaned Lara, spreading her legs apart.

“Will you see if you can persuade her to go with me?” asked Steven, gently sliding his fingers in and out of her.

“Yes … oh yes. I’ll make sure … she goes with you,” said Lara, panting as she approached orgasm.

“And what do you think she should wear?” asked Steven.

“Something … sexy,” breathed Lara. “A very short dress… So short you can see her panties…”

“Do you think I’d be able to resist her, if she wore such a dress?”

“No!” gasped Lara. “I think … you’d probably … want to … rape her.”

“And the way she looks, don’t you think that’s understandable?” said Steven, as he stroked her g-spot, very slowly, keeping her on the brink of orgasm.

“Yes … oh yes … she’s so sexy in a short dress … quite understandable…”

“So if I were to rape her tonight … you could hardly blame me, right?”

“No – not at all,” said Lara, massaging her breasts with her hands. “Oh God – rape me, Steven!”

“Not now,” said Steven. “Tonight I’m going to rape Emma. And you’re going to help me, by going upstairs and persuading her to come with me to the party.”

“Yes – yes I’ll help you rape Emma!” exclaimed Lara. “Oh God I’m coming!”

Her loins exploded in ecstasy and she screamed with pleasure, sinking to the floor as her legs collapsed under her. Yet Steven did not withdraw his fingers from her cunt, but continued to stroke her, keeping her coming over and over again.

“Tell me what I should do to Emma tonight,” he whispered in her ear.

“Rape her!” gasped Lara. “Rape her cunt, rape her anus – she likes that – pee on her, poop on her, use her as your toilet…”

Steven smiled and withdrew his fingers. “Well – if you say so,” he said. “Now go upstairs, and tell her to put on something sexy and go out with me.”

Lara sat panting for a moment, then she struggled to her feet. Steven stood aside to let her pass, but she turned her face up to him with a look of sudden hardness. “Just bring her back in one piece,” she said. “Or I’ll hunt you down and kill you like a dog.”

Leaving Steven startled in her wake, she hurried upstairs and went into Emma’s room, where her daughters were watching sexy music videos. “Emma, Steven’s downstairs,” she said.

“What?” Emma frowned. “Did you tell him to piss off?”

“He brought flowers for you – he wants to apologise,” said Lara. “And … he wants to take you to an end-of-term celebratory party.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “The nerve of the guy!” she exclaimed. “I hope you sent him packing!”

“Actually no,” said Lara. “I think you should go with him. Come on – you’ll have fun!”

“Are you kidding?” said Poppy in disbelief.

“He raped me!” added Emma, equally incredulous.

“Now Emma,” said Lara, folding her arms. “After last night’s little psychological experiment, do you really expect me to be outraged at the thought of you getting raped?”

Emma was taken aback. “Well,” she said, “I didn’t really think … well, I’m not sure. This morning you seemed…”

“Come on, dear,” said Lara. “Admit it – you wanted me to enjoy the idea of you two being raped. And perhaps I do, to a certain extent. More significantly, I’m pretty sure you’re ambivalent about the notion yourself. Now I’m sure you’ll agree that Steven’s a good-looking lad. And heck, there’ll be other people there.”

“Yeah – sixth-formers!” said Emma.

“And you don’t have any friends in the sixth form?” inquired Lara.

“Some,” said Emma, “but there’s no guarantee any of them will be there.”

“Regardless,” said Lara, “I think you’ll have a good time. There’ll be music, dancing probably, alcohol certainly…”

“Can I go?” asked Poppy.

“No,” said Lara. “You haven’t been invited. And you’re too young.”

Emma pondered the idea. The Greaves household was an alcohol-free zone – it would certainly be nice to go to a party where there was drinking. Still … it was Steven!

“You were rather mean to him today,” Lara reminded her. “Don’t you think you should give him a chance to apologise for raping you? The flowers are lovely…”

“All right, all right,” said Emma crossly. “I suppose it might be fun – as long as Steven keeps his distance.”

“Well you’d better clean up then,” said Lara, “and put on something nice.”

Emma nodded.

******************

Half an hour later, she was ready. Lara looked her up and down. “Nice,” she said, “but isn’t the dress a little … concealing?”

Emma looked down at herself. She was wearing a little black dress which barely covered her buttocks, and she had buttoned it up in front all the way to the neckline, which was high enough that it showed hardly any cleavage. “Yeah,” she said, “well I don’t want to look too sexy, or Steven will be all over me.”

“Yes but darling,” said Lara, “think of what the other girls will be wearing. Do you really want to be the most prudish girl there?”

“That’s a good point,” admitted Emma. “I should probably wear something skimpier.”

“Poppy, how about that pretty little denim dress of yours?” asked Lara. “Would you mind if Emma wears that?”

“Not at all,” said Poppy. “But I don’t think she’ll be able to get into it. I got it when I was about nine.”

“We’ll see,” said Lara.

Poppy fetched the dress, and Emma tried it on. This was another button-up dress, but it was for a much slimmer – not to mention shorter – girl than she was. There was absolutely no way she could close it around her breasts, nor around her hips. The button at waist height was the only one she could fasten – above and below it, the dress gaped wide open to reveal most of her panties and most of her cleavage. She had taken of her bra, and now her breasts were bursting out of the dress, though her nipples managed to remain concealed. At the back, the dress came only halfway down her panties.

“Perfect,” said Lara.

Trotting downstairs, Emma found Steven with his feet up on the couch, watching television. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you!” she remarked dryly.

Steven got to his feet. “Wow, you look great!” he said.

“Thanks,” she said. “Shall we go?”

They went out to his car, and she got into the passenger seat. “Where is this party, anyway?” she asked.

Steven started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “Erik’s house,” he said. “You know Erik Andersen? Tall guy, blond – built like Hammer Yates?”

“Viking? Of course I know him,” said Emma. “Everyone knows Viking.”

It was a half-hour drive to Erik’s house. When Steven had parked, he leaned across to kiss Emma, but she backed away. “You needn’t think you’re going to get any,” she said. “I’m here for the party, not for you.”

Steven shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “Let’s go inside then.”

He led her to the front door, then held it open so she could go inside ahead of him. “Thanks,” she said.

Inside, he showed her into the living room. In the doorway, she paused and looked around. Two boys were sitting in front of the wall-screen, playing an adult-rated video game called Rape Wrestling, in which you could play either a range of petite, buxom teenaged girls, or a range of huge, strapping male wrestlers. In any case, the outcome was always the same.

Three other boys were sitting on the couch, watching television on a second wall-screen. Two others were playing some kind of drinking game either side of a coffee table in the middle of the room. Emma could hear male laughter and voices coming from the kitchen, and a thunder of running feet upstairs. Something made of glass smashed.

As the boys in the living room noticed her, they all stopped what they were doing and turned grinning faces towards her. Her stomach tied itself in knots. “Oh crap,” she said.

Steven came up behind her, reached around her, and popped open the button holding her dress closed. Then he sank his hand down into her panties, while with the other he started squeezing her left breast.

“How many?” she asked, tears springing to her eyes.

“Twenty-five, give or take,” said Steven, sliding one finger in and out of her cunt. “This is for saying I have a tiny dick.”

“Can you at least get me drunk first?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sure. What can I get you? Beer? Whisky? There’s some vodka and orange going around somewhere.”

“Wine, if you have some,” said Emma. “I like red wine.”

“Erik!” Steven shouted. “Do you have any red wine?”

Erik came through from the kitchen. He looked like he had been working out – he was shirtless and sweat was pouring off him. Even in her misery Emma could not help admiring his powerfully muscular build. He was a handsome boy – man, really – with his blue eyes, blond hair and chiselled features. At six foot five he positively towered over her. “Yes, I have red wine,” he said in his endearingly thick Norwegian accent. His voice was rich and deep. “So this is Emma! I recognise you from the movie of you and your sister in the toilets. It’s nice to meet you.” Bizarrely, he held out his hand, and Emma shook it. “I shall get the wine,” he said, “and then we shall have some sex, ja?” He beamed.

Some of the other boys had got to their feet and were now pressing in around Emma. Hands reached out to grab her breasts, and her dress was swiftly pulled from her shoulders. A moment later her panties were yanked down to her ankles, and then she was pulled down to the floor.

“Wait! Wait!” she said urgently. “Can’t we at least do this in a bed?”

But her plea was ignored, and in less than ten seconds the first penis, belonging to a boy named Alfie, was pressing into her cunt. She winced – she was still pretty dry – but after a bit of thrusting she became lubricated enough that she could start to enjoy it, if only on a visceral level. She was starting to get carpet burns on her bottom and shoulder blades, however.

She was not the only one. Alfie was starting to grimace. “The fucking carpet’s burning my knees,” he complained. “I think Emma’s right – we should take her upstairs.”

“Use my parents’ bed,” said Erik, returning with an opened wine bottle. “I’ll wash the sheets after.”

Alfie pulled out of Emma, and she was lifted to her feet. Surrounded by eager, groping boys, she was taken upstairs and laid down on a large double bed. Alfie climbed on top of her and slid into her, this time more easily. It did not take him long to spurt his cream up against her cervix.

“Here,” said Erik, handing Emma the wine bottle. She took it gratefully and drank deeply. Then she stopped and coughed.

“Nice,” she croaked. As the next boy, Simon, slid his erection into her cunt, she continued to swig from the bottle. By the time he unloaded into her, the bottle was half empty.

“My turn,” said Erik. “But I want to fuck her arse. Get on your hands and knees, Emma.”

Emma shuddered, but complied. A moment later she was clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut as she felt her anus being forcibly penetrated. It felt like Erik had a huge penis.

“Be careful there, Erik,” said Steven. “She’s liable to shit all over your cock.”

Erik slid himself in and out of Emma’s rectum with long, slow strokes, which gradually increased in speed. “If she does, she can clean me with her tongue,” he said with a shrug.

“Ugh, gross, no!” said Steven. “None of us will want to kiss her then!”

Erik pulled out, then he buried himself in Emma’s cunt. “I like the feel of this girl,” he announced solemnly. “Smooth arse, tight cunt. Ja, she is a good lay.”

Fifteen minutes later, some of the others were getting impatient. “Aren’t you done yet, Erik?” asked one in frustration as he massaged his erection through his shorts.

Erik was by now back in Emma’s anus. “You have to take your time over these things,” he said. “We have all night, don’t we? What’s the hurry? Anyway, it’s my fucking house – I’ll take as long as I want.”

Emma hated to admit it, but she was actually having fun. Erik was cracking her up with the way he talked, even if he was a horrible chauvinist, and his penis was feeling wonderful inside her. And the stamina of the guy! It seemed like he would be able to go on like this for hours.

“Is it okay if I masturbate?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” said Erik. “Feel free to have an orgasm, too – I like to have my little Jormundgand squeezed.”

“Your little what?” asked Steven with a snort of laughter.

“Would you like me to explain Norse mythology to you?” asked Erik. “Or would you like me to concentrate on ejaculating into this girl?”

“By all means concentrate,” said Steven, holding up his hands.

“Oh yes,” murmured Emma as she rubbed at her clitoris. “That feels so good Erik!”

“You like my cock?” asked Erik, proudly. “It is quite large.”

“Yes, yes I like it,” moaned Emma. “It feels so good in my arse. Fuck me harder, Viking!”

“God, you are a very hot girl,” said Erik, settling down on top of her and hammering his thick cock deep into her bowels.

“Oh … oh … I’m going to cum!” gasped Emma.

“Wait!” said Erik. He pulled out of her anus and slid back into her cunt. “Okay – now you can cum.”

Rubbing furiously at her clit, Emma shuddered as her climax washed through her body. “Ohhh!” she moaned in ecstasy.

“Yes, I can feel you squeezing me!” said Erik. “I like this a lot.”

Once her orgasm had subsided, Emma stopped rubbing herself, and simply lay panting on her front. Meanwhile, Erik removed himself from her cunt and eased himself back into her anus.

“Oh Viking,” murmured Emma, “you can fuck me all night as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jesus!” exclaimed one of the other boys. “Give someone else a turn, Erik!”

“Okay, okay,” said Erik. “Just give me a minute.”

Emma moaned loudly into the pillow as Erik’s thrusting intensified. Two minutes later he groaned and poured his semen into her rectum. Emma arched her spine and pushed back against Erik’s cock, trying to get him deeper inside her. She was disappointed when he pulled out of her with a little popping sound.

“God, look, her arse is staying open!” observed one boy.

“Who’s next?” said Emma, feeling empty and bereft. “Hurry up – I want a cock inside me!”

“Jeez, what a slut,” said Steven contemptuously.

Emma knew it was true – she was a slut. The thought made her feel cheap and dirty – and also aroused her enormously. She hated Steven – but she was excited by the thought of him fucking her, looking down at her with contempt in his eyes … she hoped he would spit on her…

After her fifteenth fuck, Emma was getting quite sore, but she was hornier than ever and loving the experience of being abused by all these boys. She loved to see them all staring at her gaping cunt and anus whenever her latest partner pulled out and climbed off her. She never made any attempt to close her legs or conceal any part of herself. She was open for fucking – and she did not care who fucked her. Let him be ugly, or filthy, or old, or simply a complete jerk like Steven – she would gratefully receive his cock.

A boy named Monty was putting his phone away. “I just talked to my brother,” he said. “He’s coming around with a few of his friends.”

“Bring them on,” murmured Emma happily.

******************

By four o’clock the next morning, she had been fucked by Steven and all his friends, and by Monty’s brother and his friends, and also by some friends of theirs. In all, sixty-two boys and men fucked either her cunt or her anus, or sometimes both. Some of them came back for seconds. During that time she learned how to give blow-jobs, since some of the boys could not wait for their turn. At one point she had three cocks inside her – one in her cunt, one in her anus and one in her mouth.

She had defecated twice during this time, but to her regret nobody wanted to cover her with it or shove it up her cunt. They simply made her scoop it into a bag, and then they laid a towel over the mess on the sheet. Eventually, however, when everybody had fucked her as much as they wanted to, their thoughts turned nastier.

“How about we shit all over her, like in the movie?” asked one boy.

“Not in this house!” said Erik. “Take her outside if you’re going to do that.”

“How about we fuck her with the wine bottle?” asked another boy.

“Ja, this is a good idea,” agreed Erik, pleased.

The wine bottle was empty. Emma gasped and squirmed as they pressed the wide end against her cunt. But no matter how they pushed and twisted it, it would not fit inside her. In the end, discouraged by her tears and screams, they gave up.

“We need to work up to it,” said Steven. “We need to stretch her.” He slid four fingers into Emma’s cunt, and attempted to push his thumb in as well. “See? She can’t even take my hand yet – what chance does she have with a wine bottle?” He pushed harder and harder, making Emma wince and grit her teeth in pain. Then, suddenly, his hand was inside her. He made a fist.

“There,” he said with satisfaction. “Your first fist-fucking.”

Emma half expected everybody who had fucked her to now come back and shove their fists into her, but it was not to be. When Steven removed his hand, she was picked up and carried downstairs and outside. Dropped unceremoniously on the grass, she lay still while, one by one, everybody took turns to shit and pee on her. She retrieved the turds that fell off her body, and mashed them into her breasts and pussy.

The sun was well up by the time they had finished with her. Covered in shit and dripping with pee, she was picked up and placed carefully into the boot of Steven’s car, which had been lined with plastic rubbish bags. Then the boot was closed, leaving her in darkness, and she heard the car start up.

Half an hour later, the car stopped and she squinted in the brightness as the boot was opened. Grimacing with distaste, Steven wrapped bags around her and then attempted to lift her up.

“I can get out myself,” said Emma, pushing him away. She climbed out gingerly, then practically collapsed on the paved driveway.

Steven jumped back into his car and drove off. Emma, very bow-legged, walked up to the front door and tried the handle. It was locked, and her purse was at Steven’s house. She rang the doorbell.

Grant opened the door a moment later. He stared at Emma for a moment, barely recognising her. Then he cried out in shock: “Emma!” Paying no heed to the shit covering her body, he picked her up in his arms and carried her inside. Climbing the stairs, he took her into his bedroom. Lara was tied up on the bed, naked, spread-eagled, and gagged. She yelled something unintelligible into the scarf which had been stuffed into her mouth. Grant sat Emma down on the edge of the bed, then he removed Lara’s gag.

“I didn’t even know she wasn’t home!” he exclaimed. “Did you?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you all night!” cried Lara, struggling against her bonds. “But you gagged me so fast! I was trying to tell you that we had to go and rescue Emma from Steven’s house!”

“Who’s Steven?” asked Grant.

“My boyfriend,” muttered Emma.

“Well don’t just stand there!” said Lara. “Get her into the shower! Once you’ve got her clean, run her a nice warm bath – but not too warm or it’ll hurt her poor pussy.”

Grant nodded, then he picked Emma up again and took her through to the bathroom. Poppy, bleary-eyed, came out of her room. “What’s going on?” she asked, and then she gaped at the sight of Emma.

“Never mind – go back to bed,” said Grant. “Or better still, get outside and do your chores.”

He placed Emma gently in the bath, then he unclipped the shower head and switched it on. When the flow had warmed up, he played it over Emma’s body, using his free hand to wash the shit from her. He felt uncomfortable washing her breasts and pussy, but he tried not to think about it, even when she moaned at his touch.

The shit quickly blocked up the plughole, with the result that Emma was soon sitting in several inches of brown, chunky water. Grant grimaced as he scooped up handfuls of shit and dumped them into the toilet. After a few handfuls, he flushed.

In this manner, he eventually got Emma fairly clean. Then he squirted some body soap into his hands, and liberally rubbed it over Emma’s entire body.

“Mmm, this is nice,” murmured Emma, her eyes closed. “Do my breasts again – that felt lovely.”

“I’m getting you clean, not pleasuring you,” said Grant shortly.

As he soaped her pussy, however, she said, “You’ll need to wash inside me – there’s some more shit in there.”

“You can deal with that yourself,” he said.

“Please, Dad? I’m so weak…”

With a sigh, he slipped two soapy fingers up into Emma’s cunt, and felt around. “I can’t feel anything in there,” he said, an erection growing in his pyjama bottoms despite himself.

“Keep trying,” murmured Emma. “I’m sure you’ll find something. Try deeper.”

Grant pushed his fingers further in, and even added a third and a fourth finger, but still he could find nothing. “That’s it,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “There’s nothing in there.” Using the shower head, he washed all remaining traces of shit down the plughole, then he put the plug in and switched on the taps. “You’ll feel a lot better after a nice bath,” he said.

And she did, somewhat, but she also felt terribly tired. She put on a pair of panties, which she almost immediately filled with shit, and then she climbed into bed, falling asleep just a few minutes later.

******************

It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening before she awoke. A lot, she discovered, had happened while she slept.

“Dad’s been arrested,” said Lara, sitting on the edge of Emma’s bed.

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Emma. “What for?”

“He beat up Steven!” said Poppy excitedly. “He went round to Steven’s house after we put you to bed, and he beat the crap out of him!”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “But … he’s half Steven’s size!”

“He’s a farmer,” said Lara. “Have you any idea how strong he is? His biceps are like rocks.”

“Wow,” said Emma, impressed. “But … what will happen to him?”

Lara sighed. “I don’t know, darling. You’d have thought Steven would take his beating like a man, but no, he had to go and call the police. And now your father’s facing a couple of years in prison, unless his lawyer can convince a jury that his actions were sufficiently mitigated by your … ordeal.”

“Which they were!” said Poppy.

“But the court may not see it that way,” said Lara ruefully. “Beating someone up for having sex is a big no-no these days.”

“But he didn’t just have sex with her!” said Poppy. “He raped her and shat all over her!”

“It wasn’t rape,” said Emma in a small voice. “I willingly consented. And it wasn’t just Steven.”

“Did you have a choice in the matter?” asked Lara. “I mean, if you hadn’t consented, would they have taken no for an answer?”

Emma shrugged. “No,” she said. “I suppose not.”

“Then it was as good as rape,” said Lara. “How many boys was it?”

Emma’s lower lip began to tremble. “About … sixty … I think.”

Lara gasped in astonishment. “Sixty??”

“Wow!” said Poppy.

Emma started to climb out of bed. “I need to go and see Steven,” she said. “Get him to drop the charges.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said Lara, pushing her back down. “You’re not going anywhere. Especially not back to that place. Who knows what they’ll do to you this time in revenge for what your dad did to Steven?”

“But I can’t let them put Dad in prison!” said Emma.

“We won’t,” said Lara. “I’ll go.”

“I’ll go too!” said Poppy.

“No you won’t!” said Lara firmly. “You stay here and look after your sister. Bring her some food – you must be starving, Emma.”

“Can I have some Brantasia?” asked Emma hopefully.

“Of course, but you need something more nutritious as well. I’ve put a lasagne in the oven – it’ll be ready in ten minutes or so.” She got to her feet. “Wish me luck!”

“Good luck, Mum!” said both girls, and they all hugged.

******************

Lara took a deep breath, then rang Steven’s doorbell. A woman in her early forties answered. “Hello?” she said.

“Are you Steven’s mother?” asked Lara.

“Yes,” said the woman. “And you are…?”

“I’m Lara Greaves – mother of Emma Greaves, the girl your son raped last night.”

“As I understand it, she was a more than willing participant,” said Mrs Darrow defiantly.

“With sixty boys queuing up behind Steven? I’m sure that’s the story they tell,” said Lara grimly.

Mrs Darrow’s face paled. “Sixty?” she said. “What are you talking about? Steven said it was just him and a couple of his friends…”

Lara snorted. “Well, you should have seen her when he dumped her on our doorstep this morning,” she said. “Naked and covered in the combined excrement of sixty boys. They raped her, then defecated all over her! Did Steven tell you that?”

“I hear that’s what she likes,” said Mrs Darrow, recovering somewhat.

“And I like sex,” said Lara. “That doesn’t mean I want to have sex with sixty men at once. Now I’ve come to see Steven – is he in?”

“Yes – but he’s rather fragile,” said Mrs Darrow. “I don’t want him seeing anyone.”

Lara folded her arms. “I’m not going to beat him up,” she said. “I just want to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“Dropping the charges,” said Lara. “I think you’ll agree that Grant’s actions were at least understandable, and at most justified.”

Mrs Darrow considered this for a moment. “I’ll see if he wants to see you,” she said. She closed the door.

Lara tapped her foot while she waited. Then the door opened again.

“He’ll see you,” said Mrs Darrow. Then she smirked. “If you leave your dress at the door.”

“Fine,” said Lara. She pulled her dress, which did not even cover her panties anyway, up over her head, and dropped it on the doorstep. Then she followed Mrs Darrow inside.

“Up the stairs and on the right,” said Mrs Darrow.

Lara, wearing just her bra, panties and shoes, climbed the stairs and entered Steven’s room. He was sitting in bed, propped up on pillows, playing a video game with another boy, who was sitting in a chair next to the bed. Steven looked terrible – his face was black and blue and he could barely see out of his eyes. “What do you want?” he asked, a little indistinctly on account of his split and swollen lips.

“I want you to drop the charges,” said Lara. “What will it take?”

Steven shrugged, then winced in pain. “You could start by sucking my cock,” he said.

“You’ll drop the charges if I do that?” asked Lara.

“Suck my cock, then we’ll talk,” said Steven.

“No,” said Lara. “Either make a deal, or don’t. I’m not giving anything away for free.”

“I’m Jeff,” said the boy in the chair next to Steven. He was staring in awe at Lara’s large breasts. “I just want you to know, I wasn’t involved in last night’s … thing.”

“Glad to hear it, Jeff,” said Lara. “Pleased to meet you.”

Steven put down his controller. “All right,” he said. “I’ll drop the charges … if you agree to let me have sex with you, Emma or Poppy whenever I want. If I come over to your house in the middle of the night, all three of you had better be at my disposal.”

“Nice try,” said Lara, “but you’re way too ambitious. For one thing, this deal can’t involve my children. For another, if you come to our house in the middle of the night demanding sex, I think my husband might be a little upset.”

Steven shuddered a little. “Good point,” he said.

“Also, I refuse to be in your debt for the foreseeable future,” said Lara. “This has to be a one-time thing.”

“Well – how about this,” said Steven. “You have sex with me now, and then spend the night, doing whatever I want, until morning.”

“And you’ll drop the charges?”

“Yes.”

Lara thought for a moment. “It’s a deal,” she said. “But I need to call my children to let them know when I’ll be home.” Steven nodded, and she called home. “Hi Emma – I’m not going to be home tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay? Yes, I’m fine. It’ll be all right – trust me. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you – bye.”

Steven smiled. “All right,” he said. “Get naked, and climb in here with me.”

“Can I have sex with her too?” asked Jeff.

“Sure,” said Steven, grinning.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” said Lara, taking off her bra.

“You said you’d do whatever I want,” said Steven. “If I want you to have sex with Jeff, you’d better do it.”

Lara sighed as she pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. “All right,” she said. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed beside Steven, who threw back the covers so that his view of her would be unrestricted. He pulled down his pyjama bottoms, then gingerly turned himself over.

“Spread your legs,” he said, and Lara did so. “I love that you shave,” he said. “You’re pretty cool for an older woman. Spread your legs wider.”

Lara did so, her legs now spread obscenely wide. Steven grinned as he stared down at her pussy. Then he positioned his erection at the opening of her cunt, and slid himself inside her with a few thrusts.

The door opened and Mrs Darrow came in, saying, “How’s it going in here? Oh!” She stopped at the sight of Steven fucking a naked Lara, with Jeff staring wide-eyed at the two of them.

“Hi Mum,” said Steven, apparently not the least bit embarrassed about being seen like this.

Lara covered her face with her hands, which also meant that her arms were covering her breasts.

“None of that,” snapped Steven. “No covering up.”

Lara sighed and put her hands down by her sides. She did not attempt to meet Mrs Darrow’s eye.

“So this is the deal?” said Mrs Darrow. “She’s prostituting herself to save her husband a few months in jail?”

“Yup,” said Steven.

Mrs Darrow walked over to the bed. “What a slut,” she said. “Like mother, like daughter.” She leaned over and spat on Lara, her saliva landing in a glob on Lara’s right breast.

Steven laughed. “Nice one, Mum!” He hocked and snorted, dredging up a big glob of his own, and then he spat on Lara’s other breast. His was gooey, and partly greenish-yellow.

Jeff got in on the act, too, spitting on to Lara’s face. It landed on her nose and cheek.

“Don’t wipe it off!” Steven warned Lara, as she moved her hand towards her face.

“So how long is she staying?” asked Mrs Darrow.

“Until tomorrow morning,” said Steven. “In the meantime, she’ll do whatever I want.”

His mother nodded. “Could you get her to clean the house?” she said.

Steven chuckled. “I could – but I think I’d rather make her do other things.”

“I’m sure,” said Mrs Darrow. Then she smiled nastily. “Want me to call your friends and ask them to come round?”

Steven laughed. “Yes please!” he said. “As many as you can. And tell Monty to bring his brother’s friends too.” He turned to Jeff. “There you go, Jeff. You said you were sorry to have missed out on last night’s fun – well now you’re going to see exactly what it was like.”

Jeff grinned, and Lara bit her lip. This was going to be worse than she had anticipated. Already she felt sick from the guilt of being fucked by Steven – she had been a virgin when she had met Grant, and therefore Grant was the only man who had ever made love to her. She was doing this for him … yet she felt she was betraying him nonetheless. Would he understand? Should she tell him?

As Steven squirted his semen deep into her cunt, another thought began to prey on her mind. She was probably ovulating right now, and she had no contraception. Grant had not had sex with her in over a year – what if she got pregnant? As Jeff took Steven’s place and began thrusting eagerly inside her, she sighed and mentally steeled herself for the ordeal ahead.

******************

But Lara’s ordeal was not, in fact, as bad as Emma’s had been. The idea of gang-raping a pretty fifteen-year-old girl with big breasts had proven very attractive to Steven’s friends, and to Monty’s brother’s … but the thought of raping her thirty-something mother was apparently less appealing, and only about half of the previous night’s gathering showed up. By three o’clock the next morning, they had all had enough. Half of them had gone home.

Mrs Darrow had been egging them on the whole time. “Is nobody else going to fuck the slut?” she demanded. “Nobody?”

“We’re tired, Mum!” said Steven irritably. “I’d kind of like to get some sleep.”

“Well I hope you’re all going to poop on her like you did with her daughter,” she said.

“I don’t need to go,” Steven replied grumpily. “Why don’t you crap on her?”

Mrs Darrow contemplated this. “Maybe I will,” she said. “Will you take her outside for me?”

A couple of the boys got Lara to her feet, and together they went downstairs and out of the back door, switching on the outside lights to illuminate the garden. They laid Lara on the grass, and Mrs Darrow lifted her dress, pulled down her panties, squatted, and defecated on to Lara’s chest. Then she straddled Lara, and peed on to Lara’s face. “Drink it!” she ordered.

Lara, by now conditioned to accepting any orders given to her as coming indirectly from Steven, opened her mouth and began to swallow Mrs Darrow’s urine. Mrs Darrow laughed. “What a filthy slut!” she said. “Now rub that poop into your breasts and pussy.” As she watched Lara do this, she rubbed excitedly at her clitoris through her dress. Who would have thought that she could get so aroused by dominating another woman like this?

She stepped out of her panties, and lowered her bottom down towards Lara’s face. “Lick my bottom clean,” she said.

Obediently, Lara licked around Mrs Darrow’s anus until it was clean. This was far as Mrs Darrow had intended to go, but now she had another idea. “Now … lick my pussy,” she said. Her eyes closed and she gasped with pleasure as she felt Lara’s tongue probing her vagina and licking her clitoris. “Oh, that’s good…” she murmured. “Good slut…”

“Your Mum’s really getting into this, isn’t she?” said Jeff, watching from the window in Steven’s room.

“Yeah,” said Steven as he filmed the scene. “I don’t suppose my Dad would be too amused if he saw this. Mum had better do as I say from now on.”

Outside, Mrs Darrow moaned loudly as she climaxed, hours of pent-up excitement now exploding through her entire body. Panting, she climbed off Lara, then she stood up and looked down with contempt at the naked woman lying on the grass. She spat on Lara’s face. “Slut,” she said, “it seems everyone’s got tired of you. I suppose this means you can go home. I’ll see to it that Steven drops the charges against your husband.”

“Thank you,” said Lara, getting unsteadily to her feet.

“Don’t think you’re getting your clothes back,” said Mrs Darrow. “You can go home just like that.”

“My car keys are in my purse,” said Lara.

“I’ll get your purse,” said Mrs Darrow. She went inside and fetched it.

As Lara drove home, naked, she tried to justify her actions tonight by telling herself that she had just set Grant free. But somehow, it still felt like a betrayal…

******************

At eleven o’clock that morning, Lara was still naked, but she was clean, and she was watching a movie with Emma and Poppy. It was an action-adventure called The Mummy – yet another remake. The helpless heroine, played by popular actress Sira Swann, had just woken up and found herself lying on a stone slab, spread-eagled with her wrists and ankles tied to the corners. As she screamed in distress, three skeletal creatures gradually ripped every shred of clothing from her body, and then began squeezing her breasts and molesting her pussy with their bony hands.

Emma and Poppy masturbated each other as they watched. This was the seventh time Sira had been completely naked in this movie, but although this was arguably the least gratuitous of those naked scenes, both girls loved the thought of those horrible skeletons molesting her while she lay helpless and tied up. And since both girls had seen the movie before, they knew that Sira would spend the whole of the rest of the film (which ran for another twenty minutes or so) without a stitch on. That, too, was an exciting concept.

Then they heard the front door open. Lara jumped to her feet and ran through to the hall. “Grant!” she exclaimed. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Well this is a nice welcome home!” said Grant with a smile. “Steven dropped the charges – just like that. Any idea why?”

Lara blushed. “I … I…” she began. She put her feet down and stepped back from him. “I kind of … made a deal with him…”

Grant pursed his lips. “Do I need to know the substance of that deal?”

Lara shook her head. “I’d rather not elaborate,” she said.

“Then I won’t press,” said Grant. “Thank you.”

They spent the rest of the day doing family things. All of them had been through a lot recently, and needed some time to relax and recover. In the evening, Rosie called Emma, and the two of them chatted for a couple of hours. Both were getting excited about the recording session they had scheduled for the following day.

******************

The recording session went well, but upon its release two weeks later, the single bombed, and the future of The Farmers’ Daughters looked uncertain. On a sunny day in late July, Val showed up at the house where the girls were being taught dance moves. He had bad news for them.

“The Christian market,” he said, “isn’t biting. I’d got you a gig supporting Brothers in Christ next weekend, but to be honest I’m going to have to pull the plug. I don’t want to throw any more money at this band – it’s just not worth it.”

The girls were dismayed. “It’s the video!” exclaimed Chloe. “The video was crap, Val! It’s no wonder nobody took an interest. You wouldn’t let us wear Marge’s outfits, and you wouldn’t let us dance! We looked like lemons, sitting on those chairs and singing earnestly into the cameras.”

Val nodded. “I believe you’re right,” he said, “but that’s what Terry had in mind for the band, and he refused to let you wear Marge’s outfits because he said they were shameful. Personally, I liked them. But as to the dancing – be fair, none of you could dance very well when we recorded the video. Except for Chloe, of course.”

“But aren’t you the boss?” asked Emma. “Why should you give a crap what Terry thinks?”

“We have a contract,” said Val. “Terry was very anxious to ensure that you didn’t become just another raunchy teen girl band, so he made sure he had a certain measure of creative control over your image.”

“Okay,” said Chloe. “So what if you kill the Farmers’ Daughters band, and re-hire us as a different band? One that Terry wouldn’t have any control over?”

“What kind of band?” asked Val. “My attraction to the project was that it was indeed an interesting counterpoint to the current rash of girl bands. I thought Terry’s idea had merit. I was wrong, it seems, but I don’t have a better plan for you.”

“What if,” said Chloe, “we still sing about chastity and purity and all that crap, but we wear Marge’s outfits – or perhaps something even skimpier – and we dance really, really raunchily?”

Val stared at her. “It’s an intriguing idea,” he said. “Perhaps I can get around the contract if we change the name of the band, ditch the current single, and start again with a new song. We won’t be able to keep Brian on as songwriter – but to be honest that’s no loss.” His eyes lit up as plans spun out in his mind. “I know the perfect songwriter – Jude Willard. He writes very catchy tunes, and I’m sure it would amuse him to write Christian songs knowing that they would be performed by teenaged girls dancing sexily in skimpy outfits. Now, what to call the band…”

“I have an idea,” said Poppy. “How about ‘Denimania’?”

“Denimania,” Val repeated. “I like it. Nice ring to it. Denimania. Perfect!” He grinned. “Keep dancing, girls! We’re back in business.” He turned to the choreographer, Davina Lumsden. “Sex it up, Davina, would you?”

“With pleasure!” Davina replied with a grin.

“Oh dear,” said Rosie fretfully to Emma. “My Dad’s not going to like this.”

“If he kicks you out,” said Emma, “you can come and live with Poppy and me. If you want…”

Rosie smiled at her. “I’d love that,” she said. “But I’ll see how my parents take it.”

******************

From then on the project was fast-tracked. A new single was written, rehearsed, recorded and released by the end of August. This time they struck gold, thanks to some creative and aggressive marketing by Val’s label, and their video became the ninth most downloaded song of the year. At a party in Val’s house, they whooped with delight as they sipped champagne and watched their video. Poppy giggled as the camera closed in on her gyrating crotch, the lighting below her making her labia easily visible either side of the thin gusset of her Daisy Dukes. She turned to Chloe. “Is Harriet not coming?”

“Harriet and I broke up last week,” said Chloe, frowning slightly.

“Good!” said Poppy. “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages!” She leaned over and planted a kiss on Chloe’s lips.

Chloe pulled away and chuckled. “Slow down, Pops,” she said. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”

But ten minutes later, the two of them were entwining tongues as eagerly as Emma and Rosie were doing on another couch. And when Val came around with their new manager, Ozzie Bartlett, he found all four of them naked and tonguing each other’s cunts.

“Man, I love this job!” said Val, grinning.

“These girls are going to be a pleasure to manage,” remarked Ozzie.

******************

The following Saturday was their first gig. They had put together a three-song set, and Marge had made their outfits just a little bit more revealing than they had been. She had also given them all a dozen pairs of incontinence panties, which were white, smooth to the touch, strongly elasticated around the waist- and leg-bands, and sufficiently skimpy for the girls to still feel sexy while wearing them. She replaced Poppy’s shorts with a tiny microskirt which showed more of Poppy’s panties than it covered, and she had shortened the other girls’ skirts and dresses so that they were all showing at least two inches of buttock. Emma was certain that Marge had also cut her neckline even deeper than it had been, because now she found it almost impossible to keep her nipples covered.

They ran out on to the stage in their tight, revealing denim outfits, waving excitedly to a crowd who had really come to see Sexpot, the band for whom they were opening. Their reception was lukewarm at best. The backing music started, and the girls began to dance.

Emma, who Val felt was the best singer amongst them, nervously put the microphone to her lips. “Oh when you have a boyfriend, he only wants one thing,” she quavered. Pull yourself together! she told herself crossly. Don’t make a mess of your first ever pop performance! She took a deep breath and sang the second line: “But don’t you let him touch you, until you get a ring.” As she sang this, following the carefully worked-out choreography, she ran a hand up her inner thigh, then up the front of her panties as she spread her feet and gyrated her hips. Her nipples were both peeping over the neckline of her dress, but she continued, “Hold on to your virginity, until your wedding night. ‘Cause you will be rewarded, when Jesus makes things right.”

The rest of the girls joined in for the chorus: “Abstinence is good, it’s not a dirty word. Your purity is beautiful, to lose it is absurd. Love yourself the way you are, unsullied by a boy. Make them wait until you’re wed, or you’ll become their toy.”

They were right at the front of the stage for this, grinding their pussies into the lenses of the cameras below. The crowd was uncertain – nonplussed by the mixed signals they were receiving. On the one hand they were not appreciating the lyrics one bit … on the other, they could see the girls’ white panties almost constantly, and this was keeping their attention.

“Boys just want to strip you naked, then have sex with you,” sang Chloe, dancing in front of the others as they fell back to support her with ‘Ooo-ooo’ backing vocals. “But if you want to stay a virgin, here is what to do. Wear long dresses, skirts or jeans, clothe your arms to the wrist. ‘Cause if you cover up your skin, he won’t know what he’s missed!” With that, she untied the front of her blouse, then slipped it off her shoulders, exposing her perfect breasts to the audience.

Finally, they were starting to get the joke, and appreciate it. Cheers and whoops were heard. As Poppy sang the third verse, all about how to fend off unwelcome advances, she did nothing to fend off Emma and Rosie’s hands, which were continually fondling her breasts and rubbing her panties. By the end of the verse, she too was topless.

As the song concluded, the audience went wild – they had loved it. “Thank you very much,” said Emma into her microphone. “We are Denimania – good Christian girls who believe in purity, abstinence, good clean behaviour, and keeping ourselves covered up.”

Laughter and cheers resounded from the audience. Val had warned her to keep the chat to a minimum, so as not to bore the audience, but she felt like pushing her luck. “Incidentally,” she said, “I’m getting married myself this weekend.”

There were a few cheers, but clearly they did not care all that much. “To my sister!” added Emma, pointing at Poppy, who raised her arms, waved, and jumped up and down, causing her breasts to bounce enticingly.

The crowd drew a collective gasp, then cheered even more loudly than before. “And now,” said Emma, “here’s a little number called ‘I Love You Too Much to Let You Inside Me’.”

By the end of the second song, Emma was naked apart from her panties, as was Rosie. Chloe and Poppy were still wearing their microskirts, though these had bunched into belts and barely covered their panties. Something else had happened, too – Poppy had let out a huge shit into her panties. Emma wondered whether they should just try to ignore this, but the crowd’s enthusiastic support was making her bold.

“Look at my sister!” she said, pointing at Poppy. “She’s made a mess in her panties!”

Poppy put her face in her hands and turned away from the audience, who got a perfect view of her bulging panties as the cameras zoomed in and Poppy’s bottom filled the huge wallscreens either side of the stage. “What a naughty girl!” exclaimed Emma. “She needs to be punished. Spank her, Rosie!”

Rosie spanked Poppy hard, her spread palm sinking into the shit-filled bulge in the younger girl’s panties. Poppy felt a rush of shit surging over her clitoris, and she screamed in orgasm. “I do believe she’s getting off on it!” said Emma. “Dirty little girl. Anyway, here’s our third and final song – ‘What Would Mary Madgalene Do?’”

As they performed this song, Emma was getting intoxicated by the cheers and applause of the audience. Midway through the first verse, she shuffled her panties down her hips until all of her shaved pussy was revealed. At the back her bottom was completely bared, as her panties were now resting just below her buttocks. While singing “Fill me, Jesus, with your love,” she teased apart her labia for the camera’s benefit and started rubbing her clitoris.

During the second verse, which was sang by Poppy, Emma slipped off her panties and threw them into the audience, to huge applause. She trotted over to where Rosie was dancing, and put her arms around her. Rosie smiled, and they kissed lovingly. As their tongues probed each other’s mouths, Emma reached down and started pulling Rosie’s panties down. Rosie resisted, holding on to the front and back of her panties as Emma tugged down the sides. Emma looked up at Rosie questioningly, but Rosie merely winked and mouthed “Keep going!” She kept up her pretence at resistance until Emma had got her panties down to mid-thigh, at which point Rosie let go and put her face in her hands.

Naked, she allowed Emma to lead her to the front of the stage, where she lay down on her back when guided by Emma. She was right in front of one of the cameras, by Emma’s design, but she did not resist as Emma pushed her legs wide apart. Licking two fingers, Emma slid them into Rosie’s cunt, and gently finger-fucked her while the cameraman, who could hardly believe his luck, filmed the whole thing in close-up.

Poppy, slightly put out at being so upstaged, took matters into her own hands when Chloe’s verse began. She reached into the back of her panties and pulled out a handful of shit, which she started smearing into her breasts. She went back for more, then more still, and was satisfied to see one of the wallscreens following her actions.

Emma felt a sudden pressure in her bowels. She hurriedly adjusted her position so she was squatting over Rosie’s chest, and then she let go. A brown rope of poo surged out of her anus and coiled up in a big pile, mostly on Rosie’s left breast. When she had finished she stood up, and Rosie began spreading the shit over her chest as she continued to lie at the front of the stage with a camera pointing at her pussy.

As the song came to an end, Emma shouted, “Somebody catch me!” Then she tossed her microphone aside, ran up to the front of the stage, and jumped full length into the audience. A dozen pairs of hands buoyed her up, and she felt her breasts and pussy being fondled. She spread her legs wide, and felt fingers slide into her cunt. Then she found herself being lowered to the ground, and saw numerous trousers dropping and penises being pulled out of underwear. Seconds later, she was being fucked.

On stage, the other girls looked in concern at the spot where Emma had landed, but they could not see her through the press of bodies. “Thank you very much!” said Chloe. “We’re Denimania – we hope you enjoyed the show.”

Four cocks had been inside Emma by the time the bouncers reached her. They picked her up and carried her to the stage, where she ran off after her fellow bandmembers. In their dressing room, Val and Ozzie were ecstatic. “That was incredible!” said Val. “You’ll probably get me into a ton of trouble, but the publicity this will bring … wow! You girls have a promising future in front of you!”

The girls whooped and high-fived each other. Val turned to Poppy. “Can you make the panty-pooping a regular part of your act?” he asked. “I mean, can you poop on queue?”

Poppy shrugged. “Not really – it comes very suddenly.” Then she smiled. “But I bet I can time it to occur at some point during a concert.”

“Perfect – do that,” said Val. Then he frowned. “What’s this about you getting married?”

“It’s true,” said Emma. “Poppy and I are getting married this weekend. It’s all arranged. Hey, that’s right – I guess we never invited you. Well consider yourself invited – you and Ozzie.”

“But … you’re sisters. I mean, is it legal?”

Poppy nodded. “It is. We have the marriage licence to prove it. Rosie and Chloe are going to be our bridesmaids.”

Emma got to her feet. “Can I talk to you for a second, Val?” she said.

“Sure,” said Val. He followed Emma outside into the corridor. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Um,” said Emma awkwardly. “How do you feel about the issue of … pregnancy,” she said.

“How do I feel?” asked Val, puzzled. “Why – are you pregnant?”

Emma nodded. “Yes – and so is Poppy. Is that going to be a problem? For the band, I mean.”

“Congratulations!” said Val. “No, I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.” He smiled. “In fact, it could work to our advantage. To have you singing about remaining pure and chaste while sporting a heavily pregnant belly – that would be a beautiful irony.”

Emma smiled, then on an impulse she hugged him. “Thanks Val,” she said.

“So – who’s the lucky father?” asked Val.

Emma shrugged. “I have no idea,” she said.

Val laughed. “Wow, Emma, you know, when I met you I had no idea you were such a … I mean, that you were so…”

“Such a slut?” suggested Emma with a smile. “Neither did I, actually. But I suppose I am. Shall we go back inside and continue celebrating?”

In the dressing room, the others were already drinking champagne. As they clinked glasses and toasted to the future of Denimania, Marge came in with a bag full of clothes.

“What a show!” she said. “You girls are the sexiest!”

“Thanks,” said Emma.

“What’s in the bag?” asked Poppy.

Marge smiled. “Just some ideas for outfits that I’ve been working on,” she said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a little pair of denim panties. “Try these on.”

Emma took the panties and pulled them on. The triangle of material at the front was very narrow, and so tight that she could not prevent it from slipping between her pussy lips. The panties were also so incredibly low-rise that if she had had any pubic hair, much of it would have been visible above the top of the triangle. Narrow bands of denim ran around her hips, connecting the front triangle to a larger triangle at the back, which did not rise high enough to cover her buttock cleavage, and was certainly not capacious enough to hold a full load of shit.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Marge. “Those won’t hold much shit. But what I’m thinking is: costume changes. You take a dump in your white incontinence panties, you play with it for a while or whatever, then later in the set you change into a different outfit, one which includes these panties.”

“Nice idea!” said Emma. “I like these panties. What else have you got?”

Marge gave her a denim bra to try on. It was far too small for Emma – her breasts were spilling out of it all over the place, and when she finally achieved an equilibrium, her nipples were peeping over the top. “Nice!” she said. “What else?”

Next Marge gave her a pair of shorts, which was actually just a belt of denim that sat around her hips, while a thin denim string ran from the front to the back between her legs. She pulled her labia apart to let the string settle against her clitoris, and when she let go, her pussy lips almost closed together over the top of the string.

“God, I love how denim looks on you, Emma,” said Marge, staring unabashedly at Emma’s pussy. “How does it feel?”

“I love it,” said Emma with a smile. “You’ve outdone yourself. How are our wedding outfits coming?”

“Oh, they’re done,” said Marge. “I’ll bring them around to your house tomorrow if you like.”

“Thanks,” said Emma. “I can’t wait!”

******************

It was an odd sort of wedding, with no groom at the front of the church to watch his bride walk down the aisle. Of course, lesbian couples had been doing this for years, but this was Emma and Poppy’s first experience of a same-sex wedding. Their own church had refused to marry them – the congregation they had grown up with quickly grew tired of their (and Lara’s) panty-pooping and barely-there dresses, and now all three of them were persona non grata.

Their new church was much more liberal, with a young male vicar who was very keen to move with the times and actively encouraged the young women of his congregation to dress as skimpily as they wanted. He was even tolerant of the panty-pooping. And it was he, Harry Penfold, who was to marry Emma and Poppy today.

As the organ struck up with ‘Here Comes the Bride’, the two girls started to slowly walk down the aisle towards the front of the church. They had been made up by professionals, and both looked stunningly beautiful. Their white dresses were lavishly detailed, fitted to perfection, and stopped halfway down their white incontinence panties. Poppy’s dress was extremely low-cut, so that her areolas were just showing, but not her nipples. Emma’s dress had a higher neckline, but the material between the neckline and the dress’s high waist was gauzy and transparent. Her breasts bounced behind their see-through veil with every step, her nipples clearly visible. Both girls wore white hold-up stockings with frilly tops, and pretty white shoes with four-inch heels.

Their bridesmaids were Chloe and Rosie from the band, and Lottie and Helen from school. All four were wearing identical denim dresses, as well as denim bras and denim panties. The dresses were slightly longer than those of the brides, exposing just two-and-a-half inches of their buttocks at the back, and one inch of their denim panties at the front. These panties were less skimpily cut than the ones Emma had tried on after the concert – they were made of stretch-denim and designed to hold a load of shit – or most of one, anyway.

This was fortunate, because halfway down the aisle, Rosie squeaked in alarm as a huge quantity of shit poured out of her rectum and into her denim panties. Chloe, walking beside her chuckled and shook her head. Then, because she did not want Rosie to feel alone in her embarrassment, she strained for a moment, then her own anus opened up and she filled her panties to capacity with a cantaloupe-sized quantity of soft shit.

Lottie and Helen stared in surprise at the two pairs of bulging panties in front of them, from the sides of which shit was oozing and dropping down on to the floor. They looked at each other quizzically, then Lottie shrugged and pushed, filling her own panties. Not wanting to feel left out, Helen did the same, then she quivered and almost stumbled as a delicious orgasm suffused her loins.

Emma glanced this way and that as she walked happily down the aisle. There was Val, and there were Marge and Ozzie – all smiling encouragingly. There was Steven, and Viking, and a bunch of the other boys who had raped her. They were all staring lasciviously at her breasts and panties. Then there were several of her friends from school, smiling at her and clapping excitedly. She knew that some of them were a little shocked that she was marrying her sister, but they all loved weddings, and they all thought she looked gorgeous. Finally, at the front she saw her parents, smiling and waving at the two of them. Lara was wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress of Marge’s creation – knee-length, but see-through, with see-through panties and a see-through bra underneath.

Arriving at the front of the church, Emma and Poppy pulled back their veils and smiled happily at each other. The vicar smiled at both of them, then addressed the congregation. “Friends! We are gathered here today…”

And so he went on. As he spoke, Emma’s bowels suddenly demanded an urgent expulsion, and she gasped as a torrent of shit poured into her panties. Poppy giggled, then she concentrated for a moment, then smiled as she filled her own panties. Some of her shit was forced along her gusset, and she moaned and shuddered in orgasm as it caressed her clitoris.

The vicar pretended not to notice this, and continued with his spiel. As he talked them through their vows, the girls looked into each other’s shining eyes as they spoke of their love for each other. Then each placed a wedding ring on the other’s finger, and the vicar said, “I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss.”

The girls embraced, and locked their lips together in a deep kiss as the congregation cheered and clapped. Emma reached down and massaged the bulge in Poppy’s panties, causing her younger sister to gasp and moan in fresh orgasms. Their tongues excitedly explored each other, as Poppy started squeezing Emma’s panty-bulge. Both girls were climaxing now, moaning and screaming with pleasure. Poppy now pulled down the upper part of Emma’s dress, fully exposing Emma’s breasts, and Emma hurriedly pulled her arms out of it.

The vicar laughed, a little nervously. “Save something for the honeymoon!” he said. The congregation laughed with him.

Poppy, sucking on Emma’s right nipple, reached her hands into the back of Emma’s panties, drawing out two handfuls of shit, which she then slapped on to Emma’s breasts. She rubbed it in with one hand, while with the other she rubbed Emma’s pussy through her panties.

“I say, steady on!” said the vicar in alarm.

Rosie was massaging the bulge in her own panties as she stared lustfully at the two brides. Then she threw her arms around a surprised Chloe, and kissed her full on the lips. Chloe closed her eyes and responded, and then moaned ecstatically as Rosie squished her shit-filled panties.

Lottie and Helen, hardly able to believe their eyes, turned to look at each other. “Do you…” began Lottie.

“No! I’m not a lesbian,” said Helen emphatically.

“Neither am I,” said Lottie hurriedly.

The vicar squatted down and spoke urgently to Emma and Poppy, who were now on the floor, their limbs entwined and their hands in each other’s panties. Their beautiful white dresses were covered in streaks of shit and bunched around their waists. “You need to come and sign the register!” he hissed at them. He looked up at the bridesmaids. “Here – can you help me with them?”

Rosie and Chloe broke off from their clinch, then they both stooped down and helped the distressed vicar separate the messy brides. Dishevelled and panting, Emma and Poppy got to their feet. “Sorry!” said Emma. “We got a little carried away.” She looked down at her ruined dress, sighed, then pulled it down over her hips and stepped out of it, leaving her in just her panties, stockings and shoes.

Poppy now stripped off her own dress. She smiled at Emma. “Okay, let’s go and sign this thing.”

Hand in shit-caked hand, the two girls went into the vestry with the vicar, the bridesmaids, and their parents. In the main body of the church, the congregation erupted into whispered conversation.

“Have you ever seen a wedding like this?” Val murmured to Marge.

“No,” said Marge, “but I can’t say I’m surprised, knowing those two.”

“Nor me,” said Val. “They’re quite the couple. I can’t wait to see what the reception will be like.”

Marge laughed. “Well, they’re singing aren’t they? I imagine it will be rather like one of their concerts…”

“God help us!” said Val, chuckling.


THE END

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