Posted by The Guy on August 05, 1998 at 07:20
The most embarrassing moment of my life came when I was a cheerleader in college. Anyone who's ever had a panty-messing
accident in public can relate to what I'm talking about, but I seriously doubt if anyone has ever had a worse experience than
me. Or if you happen to be into these kinds of thngs, I doubt if anyone has ever had a better experience than me. We were on
a long road trip by bus one night and I had to move my bowels. I was holding it in because I didn't want to use the john on the
bus which was really disgusting. As per the usual, the cheerleaders always seemed to get stuck with the most beat-up
run-down bus and this time was no exception. The john on the bus didn't even have a door on it anymore. Like I said, I was
holding it in and it never really got to the point where I had to go bad until the bus was pulling into the stadium parking lot. I
guess I should have gone right then and there but I figured it was only a few minutes until we were in our locker room, so I just
squeezed tight and decided to hold on for a little while longer. Unfortunately, the bus to quite a long time to maneuver through
stadium traffic. My bowels were really pushing for relief, but I kept saying to myself, "just a few more minutes," "just a few
more minutes." By this time, I really had to go bad but I just didn't want to do it in a run-down toilet without any door on it. As
the bus finally pulled right alongside the stadium entrance, I was getting ready to make a mad dash for the nearest bathroom.
Unfortuantely, I never got the chance. No soonner had I stepped off the bus, when I was doubled over with the worst stomach
cramps I'd ever had in my life. Before I had the chance to react to this, my bowels were forcibly relieving themselves right into
my panties. I could feel thick, soft logs of shit sliding though my asshole and depositing themselves into the seat of my panties.
A whole lot of poop just came out beyond my control as I squatted there help- lessly just letting it happen. Pretty soon, I could
feel my panties starting to sag from the weight of this tremendous messy load that was collecting in my panties. The other girls
had gathered around me when they saw me double- over with the stomach cramps so everyone was right there when this
happened. I'm sure they all could see right away right I'd done and even if they couldn't see it, it wasn't long before they could
surely smell it. When I stood up and the fabric of my panties pulled tight across my behind, I felt the poop load squish and
smear all over it. "Oh my God! -- thats gross!," I heard someone say. "Chris, what did you do? -- How could you?" someone
else said, "How could a girl like you have an accident like that." "There is a bathroom on the bus you know," she said with a
giggle in her voice. Then someone just yelled out loudly, "Chris just took a dump in her pants!" and everyone started roaring
with laughter. As for me, I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks from the shame of this whole disgusting accident. Before the
laughter got too far, the squad's faculty advisor came up to me and grabbed me by the arm. "An accident at your age," she said
with disbelief, "Your going to be one very sorry young lady for doing this." She was a nice woman, but a very strict
disciplinarian. She used to teach in a Catholic school and it showed. Earlier in the year I had felt her wrath -- to the tune of 200
sit-ups -- for skipping just one practice session. The other girls on the cheering squad thought of this as something that I'd get
teased about, but the advisor thought is something that I also should be punished for. She led me by the arm into the arena,
constantly shaming me for what she called "disgracing myself." I just stared at the floor crying as we walked through the arena
as the embarrassment was just too much to bear. Her constant yelling was causing somewhat of a commotion as people were
turning to see what she was yelling at and my mess was pretty obvious to anybody who looked close enough. "I didn't mean to
do it -- it was an accident," I told her, "I'm sorry -- I just couldn't help it." But she just went on berating me and shaming me in
front of hundreds of people. "Yeah!, all of sudden without warning it just comes out in your pants," she said sarcastically, "It
couldn't have been that you were holding it the whole trip because you didn't want to use the bath- room on the bus, could it?"
I just nodded my head to agree with her as I was smart enough not to make my crime any worse by trying to lie about how it
happened. "Well, thats the bathroom we have and I expect you to be mature enough to use it when you have to, is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'm," was all that I could answer. "You don't like using the restroom on the bus," she yelled, "Lets see how much you
like cleaning up that little mess of yours." We both knew that my mess could hardly be called little, but she had made her point.
I just resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be thoroughly humiliated, totally disgusted and then probably soundly
punished. I shuddered thinking about how awful this mess was going to be to clean up. To my utter horror, she led me into the
regualar woman's restroom in the arena and not the cheerleaders' locker room like I'd expected. If there was anything left of
my pride, I would certainly lose it now as I was going to have to clean up this mess in a public restroom (in a basketball arena,
no less) where lots of other people could see me. There was a long row of about 11 or 12 regular toilet stalls along one wall
and then an open stall (without a door on it) apart from those. You don't even have to guess which stall she made me use. I
begged her to let me clean this up in private, but she was determined to humiliate me as much as possible. In the stall, she
ordered me to remove the sweatpants that I was wearing. I did as I was told, being careful not to get them soiled. She took
them in hand and that left me standing there in my messed underwear. They were soiled really bad, certainly bad enough that
everyone could see that I had messed in them. Next, of course, she forced me to take down my panties. The mess was so bad
that I had to actually peel them off of my behind. And when I got them down, I realized that my behind was a filthy, disgusting
mess as well. The advisor stood alongside the open stall (which was considerably wider than the regular stalls) so that people
could see into it. I was standing there in the open stall with messed panties down at my knees fully exposed to everyone. I was
now the laughingstock of not only the cheerleading squad but to the whole arena. As game time approached, the bathroom
was getting more and more crowded and it seemed as if people were taking a walk passed the stall just to get a look at me
and my mess. And jsut in case anyone didn't know what was going on right away, the advisor's yelling at me called thier
attention to it. "Shame on you!," she seemed to scream over and over again, "Five year olds don't even do this anymore."
"Thats the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," she yelled, "You think the bath- room on the bus is disgusting -- Well, you
should take a look at what you have here." I just stared at the floor, totally ashamed of myself. "Look at it!, Look at it!!," she
screamed, "You did it!!, now take a good look at the mess you made in your panties!" Eventually, I had readied myself to
begin cleaning it up. I reached for the toilet paper and made an extra thick wad. I reached around to wipe myself and wound
up with a handful of shit as well as dirty toilet paper. I reached for the paper to wipe the mess off my had, but she stopped me.
"Clean your hands later," she told me, "Clean your behind first, a mess on your hands is what happens when you mess in your
pants." I thought I was going to get sick -- literally. I lost count of the number of wads of toilet paper I used (it was somewhere
around 2O or so -- a whole roll of paper) but I finally got the job done. And the cheerleading advisor was there the whole
time, not missing any opportunity to shame and humiliate me further. I didn't think I'd ever get my behind clean, but I knew I
had to keep going and eventually the job got done. Wipe after wipe after filthy disglusting wipe and 6 or 7 toilet flushed, I
finally had cleaned myself fully. I breathed a sigh of relief that that was done but it was inter- rupted by her reminder, "You're
not done yet -- you've got your panties to clean." For a moment I thought the ordeal was over but I still had more shit to clean.
I begged her just to let me flush the panties down the toilet, but that only made her madder. "They're a total mess," I told her,
"They'll never be good enough to wear again, so why clean them." That wasn't exactly the argument that I should have used.
"You're going to clean them because you messed in them," she screamed, "And I do suggest that you get them clean because
you'll be wearing thme home tonight." I cringed at the thought. I guess I really did expect to have to clean the panties but the
idea of wearing them again (panties that had had all that shit in them) was thoroughly disgusting to me. Each time that I thought
this day couldn't get any worse, it somehow did. She had me step out of the panties and pick them up. I turned them inside out
and started dunking them in the toilet. She had to tell me what to do because it had been so long since I'd last had an accident
(I couln't even remember when) that I didn't know what to do. I flushed the toilet several times hoping the rushing water would
wash them clean. That got the big pieces of shit out but they were still badly stained -- not clean enough to satisfy the advisor
and certainly not clean enough for me to wear again. Obviously, I would have to scrub them by hand. At that point, I was
naked from the waist, but the advisor did give me my sweatpants back. I put them back on so at least I didn't have to walk up
to the sinks naked. Being spared that humiliation was was a small consolation! I had pretty much stopped crying at the point
where I had finished wiping myself but I lost it again. I stood at the sink with tears streaming down my face as I scrubbed my
soiled panties clean in the ladies' room sink. People just stared at me shocked -- a girl my age having to clean out her panties
like this. Some even couldn't containe their laughter at such a sight. Through the flood of tears, I scrubbed out all the shit and
the shit stains and finally my panties were clean. That done, my totally disgusting and thoroughly humiliating clean- up job was
finally completed. After that, she finally took me downstairs to the cheerleaders' locker room. The game had already started so
the locker room was empty. She grabbed a chair and put it in a corner facing the wall. Thats where I sat for the next two hours
until it was time to leave. She told me to sit there and think about what I'd done and she gave me my wet panties to hold as a
reminder while I sat there in the corner. I thought about how I had "disgraced myself" and I cried thinking about the shame of it
all. I knew what I did was shameful and disgusting but I really didn't think the advisor had to punish me the way she did. I
mean, I had already learned my lesson without having to go through all that she put me through. I kept hoping that she wouldn't
make me wear those shitted-in panties home as she had threatened, but when the time came she did as promised. I had to put
them on under my sweat pants and they were still wet. It felt just awful. I sat alone on the bus the whole trip home and no one
talked to me. After all, who wanted to sit with a grown woman who messes in her panties. They talked about me, though, and
I could hear them giggling about what I had done. It was just an awful day of shame for me. Christine J.
Email:
accident in public can relate to what I'm talking about, but I seriously doubt if anyone has ever had a worse experience than
me. Or if you happen to be into these kinds of thngs, I doubt if anyone has ever had a better experience than me. We were on
a long road trip by bus one night and I had to move my bowels. I was holding it in because I didn't want to use the john on the
bus which was really disgusting. As per the usual, the cheerleaders always seemed to get stuck with the most beat-up
run-down bus and this time was no exception. The john on the bus didn't even have a door on it anymore. Like I said, I was
holding it in and it never really got to the point where I had to go bad until the bus was pulling into the stadium parking lot. I
guess I should have gone right then and there but I figured it was only a few minutes until we were in our locker room, so I just
squeezed tight and decided to hold on for a little while longer. Unfortunately, the bus to quite a long time to maneuver through
stadium traffic. My bowels were really pushing for relief, but I kept saying to myself, "just a few more minutes," "just a few
more minutes." By this time, I really had to go bad but I just didn't want to do it in a run-down toilet without any door on it. As
the bus finally pulled right alongside the stadium entrance, I was getting ready to make a mad dash for the nearest bathroom.
Unfortuantely, I never got the chance. No soonner had I stepped off the bus, when I was doubled over with the worst stomach
cramps I'd ever had in my life. Before I had the chance to react to this, my bowels were forcibly relieving themselves right into
my panties. I could feel thick, soft logs of shit sliding though my asshole and depositing themselves into the seat of my panties.
A whole lot of poop just came out beyond my control as I squatted there help- lessly just letting it happen. Pretty soon, I could
feel my panties starting to sag from the weight of this tremendous messy load that was collecting in my panties. The other girls
had gathered around me when they saw me double- over with the stomach cramps so everyone was right there when this
happened. I'm sure they all could see right away right I'd done and even if they couldn't see it, it wasn't long before they could
surely smell it. When I stood up and the fabric of my panties pulled tight across my behind, I felt the poop load squish and
smear all over it. "Oh my God! -- thats gross!," I heard someone say. "Chris, what did you do? -- How could you?" someone
else said, "How could a girl like you have an accident like that." "There is a bathroom on the bus you know," she said with a
giggle in her voice. Then someone just yelled out loudly, "Chris just took a dump in her pants!" and everyone started roaring
with laughter. As for me, I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks from the shame of this whole disgusting accident. Before the
laughter got too far, the squad's faculty advisor came up to me and grabbed me by the arm. "An accident at your age," she said
with disbelief, "Your going to be one very sorry young lady for doing this." She was a nice woman, but a very strict
disciplinarian. She used to teach in a Catholic school and it showed. Earlier in the year I had felt her wrath -- to the tune of 200
sit-ups -- for skipping just one practice session. The other girls on the cheering squad thought of this as something that I'd get
teased about, but the advisor thought is something that I also should be punished for. She led me by the arm into the arena,
constantly shaming me for what she called "disgracing myself." I just stared at the floor crying as we walked through the arena
as the embarrassment was just too much to bear. Her constant yelling was causing somewhat of a commotion as people were
turning to see what she was yelling at and my mess was pretty obvious to anybody who looked close enough. "I didn't mean to
do it -- it was an accident," I told her, "I'm sorry -- I just couldn't help it." But she just went on berating me and shaming me in
front of hundreds of people. "Yeah!, all of sudden without warning it just comes out in your pants," she said sarcastically, "It
couldn't have been that you were holding it the whole trip because you didn't want to use the bath- room on the bus, could it?"
I just nodded my head to agree with her as I was smart enough not to make my crime any worse by trying to lie about how it
happened. "Well, thats the bathroom we have and I expect you to be mature enough to use it when you have to, is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'm," was all that I could answer. "You don't like using the restroom on the bus," she yelled, "Lets see how much you
like cleaning up that little mess of yours." We both knew that my mess could hardly be called little, but she had made her point.
I just resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be thoroughly humiliated, totally disgusted and then probably soundly
punished. I shuddered thinking about how awful this mess was going to be to clean up. To my utter horror, she led me into the
regualar woman's restroom in the arena and not the cheerleaders' locker room like I'd expected. If there was anything left of
my pride, I would certainly lose it now as I was going to have to clean up this mess in a public restroom (in a basketball arena,
no less) where lots of other people could see me. There was a long row of about 11 or 12 regular toilet stalls along one wall
and then an open stall (without a door on it) apart from those. You don't even have to guess which stall she made me use. I
begged her to let me clean this up in private, but she was determined to humiliate me as much as possible. In the stall, she
ordered me to remove the sweatpants that I was wearing. I did as I was told, being careful not to get them soiled. She took
them in hand and that left me standing there in my messed underwear. They were soiled really bad, certainly bad enough that
everyone could see that I had messed in them. Next, of course, she forced me to take down my panties. The mess was so bad
that I had to actually peel them off of my behind. And when I got them down, I realized that my behind was a filthy, disgusting
mess as well. The advisor stood alongside the open stall (which was considerably wider than the regular stalls) so that people
could see into it. I was standing there in the open stall with messed panties down at my knees fully exposed to everyone. I was
now the laughingstock of not only the cheerleading squad but to the whole arena. As game time approached, the bathroom
was getting more and more crowded and it seemed as if people were taking a walk passed the stall just to get a look at me
and my mess. And jsut in case anyone didn't know what was going on right away, the advisor's yelling at me called thier
attention to it. "Shame on you!," she seemed to scream over and over again, "Five year olds don't even do this anymore."
"Thats the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," she yelled, "You think the bath- room on the bus is disgusting -- Well, you
should take a look at what you have here." I just stared at the floor, totally ashamed of myself. "Look at it!, Look at it!!," she
screamed, "You did it!!, now take a good look at the mess you made in your panties!" Eventually, I had readied myself to
begin cleaning it up. I reached for the toilet paper and made an extra thick wad. I reached around to wipe myself and wound
up with a handful of shit as well as dirty toilet paper. I reached for the paper to wipe the mess off my had, but she stopped me.
"Clean your hands later," she told me, "Clean your behind first, a mess on your hands is what happens when you mess in your
pants." I thought I was going to get sick -- literally. I lost count of the number of wads of toilet paper I used (it was somewhere
around 2O or so -- a whole roll of paper) but I finally got the job done. And the cheerleading advisor was there the whole
time, not missing any opportunity to shame and humiliate me further. I didn't think I'd ever get my behind clean, but I knew I
had to keep going and eventually the job got done. Wipe after wipe after filthy disglusting wipe and 6 or 7 toilet flushed, I
finally had cleaned myself fully. I breathed a sigh of relief that that was done but it was inter- rupted by her reminder, "You're
not done yet -- you've got your panties to clean." For a moment I thought the ordeal was over but I still had more shit to clean.
I begged her just to let me flush the panties down the toilet, but that only made her madder. "They're a total mess," I told her,
"They'll never be good enough to wear again, so why clean them." That wasn't exactly the argument that I should have used.
"You're going to clean them because you messed in them," she screamed, "And I do suggest that you get them clean because
you'll be wearing thme home tonight." I cringed at the thought. I guess I really did expect to have to clean the panties but the
idea of wearing them again (panties that had had all that shit in them) was thoroughly disgusting to me. Each time that I thought
this day couldn't get any worse, it somehow did. She had me step out of the panties and pick them up. I turned them inside out
and started dunking them in the toilet. She had to tell me what to do because it had been so long since I'd last had an accident
(I couln't even remember when) that I didn't know what to do. I flushed the toilet several times hoping the rushing water would
wash them clean. That got the big pieces of shit out but they were still badly stained -- not clean enough to satisfy the advisor
and certainly not clean enough for me to wear again. Obviously, I would have to scrub them by hand. At that point, I was
naked from the waist, but the advisor did give me my sweatpants back. I put them back on so at least I didn't have to walk up
to the sinks naked. Being spared that humiliation was was a small consolation! I had pretty much stopped crying at the point
where I had finished wiping myself but I lost it again. I stood at the sink with tears streaming down my face as I scrubbed my
soiled panties clean in the ladies' room sink. People just stared at me shocked -- a girl my age having to clean out her panties
like this. Some even couldn't containe their laughter at such a sight. Through the flood of tears, I scrubbed out all the shit and
the shit stains and finally my panties were clean. That done, my totally disgusting and thoroughly humiliating clean- up job was
finally completed. After that, she finally took me downstairs to the cheerleaders' locker room. The game had already started so
the locker room was empty. She grabbed a chair and put it in a corner facing the wall. Thats where I sat for the next two hours
until it was time to leave. She told me to sit there and think about what I'd done and she gave me my wet panties to hold as a
reminder while I sat there in the corner. I thought about how I had "disgraced myself" and I cried thinking about the shame of it
all. I knew what I did was shameful and disgusting but I really didn't think the advisor had to punish me the way she did. I
mean, I had already learned my lesson without having to go through all that she put me through. I kept hoping that she wouldn't
make me wear those shitted-in panties home as she had threatened, but when the time came she did as promised. I had to put
them on under my sweat pants and they were still wet. It felt just awful. I sat alone on the bus the whole trip home and no one
talked to me. After all, who wanted to sit with a grown woman who messes in her panties. They talked about me, though, and
I could hear them giggling about what I had done. It was just an awful day of shame for me. Christine J.
Email:
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