Posted by The Guy on November 06, 1998 at 08:29
I'm a 19 year old woman and like many of your readers I believe
that the best place for poop is not the toilet but in my panties. Like most people, I guess, I was toilet trained at an early age and
soon after that stopped having accidents altogether. Had it not been for a freak occurrence during my high school years, I might
still be using the toilet all the time and missing out on this great fetish. Though the accident occurred in m senior year, the story
begins when I was a sophomore. As sophomores, myself and another girl were both competing for the attention of the same
guy - a real hunk of a senior who was wide receiver on the football team and captain of the basketball team. I dated him first
and we were going together for several months before the other girl, whom I call "Slutface" , stole him away from me. To make
matters worse, it was at one of my own parties that she latched onto him and she always delighted in rubbing my face in her
con- quest. Nor did she ever make any secret of the fact that she was "his chosen one" because she was always willing to
spread her legs for him -- something that I was not yet ready for. I know that this may sound old-fashioned but I was barely 15
years old at the time. Anyway, from that moment on, the two of us were "enemies for life." We fought all through high school
and I do mean "fought." While a lot of our confront- ations were merely verbal, mostly words of the four letter persuasion, a lot
of our altercations were actually knock-down, drag-out, hair-pulling fights. You wouldn't believe how many times we were
punished at school for what we said and did to each other. But we hated each other so much, I simply didn't matter. The Vice-
Principal used to call us the "detention twins" in recognition of all the time that we spent there and that it was always together
that we were punished. We once had to serve four straight weeks of detention for two really nasty hair-pulling fights within two
weeks of each other and during our senior year, we twice had Saturday Detention (like in the Breakfast Club movie) for
various incidents. Once, they even made us stay after school and write 100 times on the chalkboard, "I promise never to fight in
school again." Countless times we were made to write apologies to each other and often got our mouths washed out for
swearing. We both got kicked off the cheerleading squad, I got kicked off the basketball team, and she was kicked off
basketball and soccer. One time we spent two entire weeks of study halls cleaning bathrooms when one of our fights ended up
busting two sinks and a toilet in one of the lavatories. On this particular day that I'm writing about, it was right after my sixth
period class and I had some business to care of in the girls' room. Just as I was walking into the lavatory and heading for the
one unoccupied stall, "Slutface" just happened to be coming out of another stall. She couldn't resist sticking her foot out and it
sent me flying into the floor. I barely missed hitting my head on a stall door and even as it was I had cut my lip a little bit. This
was really embarrassing because after everyone saw that I was alright, everyone in the bathroom (and it was crowded at the
time) thought that this was hilariously funny. Well, I didn't think it was funny at all and I charged at "Slutface" intending to exact
my revenge. I hit her, she hit me, and it went on from there like it had so many time before this. This particular altercation,
however, was one of our nastiest. Before it was over, not only were my clothes dirty from rolling around on the bathroom floor,
but my blouse had been torn as well. My lip had been cut from her ring when she slugged me across the face and my forehead
felt a little sore from when I hit the floor initially. As for her, she ended up with a few facial scratches and a little less hair --
courtesy of my hands. The back of her hair was soaking wet from where I had dunked it into a toilet (and a partially unflushed
toilet at that) and the fight was broken up just as I was trying to stick her face in that same disgusting toilet water. We were
immediately taken to the Vice-Principal's office. Just judging by our appearance assured us that we would be dealt with
severely. Cutting right to the chase he gave us two Saturday Detentions and school is the last place I wanted to be for five
hours (8 AM to 1 PM) on a Saturday morning. He also gave us a week of regular detention and so many extra homework
assignments to do that I wondered if I'd ever have any free time again. But this time, the Vice- Principal was madder than I'd
ever seen him and he just didn't stop with the punishments. He gave us the same basic lecture that we had heard on many
previous occasions (about maturity and how we couldn't act our age) but this time his tone was a lot angrier. He went on to say
that as long as we were going to act like five year olds, he was going to treat us like that. He took us to the main entrance lobby
of the school right outside his outer office. He sent "Slutface" into one corner and told her to stand there facing the wall and her
sent me to do the same in an opposite corner. He also made it perfectly clear that we'd be spending the rest of the afternoon
there until detention was let out. Although it was embarrassing for an eighteen year old high school senior to be seen standing in
the corner like a little girl (not to mention the tedium of staring at the wall for close to three hours), compared to out other
punishments, this didn't seem all that bad. But then I realized how much worse a punishment this was for me than for "Slutface."
You see, she had already used the toilet when the fight started but I had not. I had to poop kind of bad by now and I seriously
doubted if I could hold it through 3 hours in the corner especially if I couldn't sit down. Holding it in for that long would at best
be extremely uncomfortable and at worst -- something that hadn't happened to me since I was seven years old. To make a long
story short, thats exactly what happened. No matter how much I begged him, the Vice-Principal would not let me leave my
assigned corner until my time was up -- not even to go to the bathroom. Anyway, before long I just couldn't hold it in anymore.
Suddenly, it all came out at once -- one big soft log of poop followed by two smaller ones. It was a lot of poop and really
sticky, too. It spread quickly through my panties, all over and through my ass, and some of the load even got onto my thighs. It
was a bad mess to say the least. But even after the bowel movement came out in my panties (and I'm sure after a while that
bastard Vice-Principal knew what he'd made me do), he would not let me out of the corner. I had to stand there the whole rest
of the time, probably close to an hour, with that mess in my panties. He did have the courtesy to dismiss "slutface" first and after
she had left the lobby he came over and dismissed me. "I told you I had to go to the bathroom really bad," I said to him, "You
know you made me mess in my pants!" "I take that back about you acting like a five year old," he teased me back, "A three
year old is more like it." And he still didn't let me go to the girls' room as he followed me to my locker and out of the school.
"You go clean that up at home," he told me, "You're not going to mess up one of my girls' rooms with that load." I was tempted
to answer him back, but the last thing I needed at this point was more punishment and I felt lucky enough that no one else in the
school knew of my accident and I certainly wanted to keep it that way. I just left the school in tears, walking carefully with that
awful load of poop in my panties and all over my backside. Even though I knew that this was not my fault at all -- and in spite
of my erotic feelings -- I was still embarrassed by having the messy accident and was desperate for it to remain a secret.
Especially, I didn't want to give "slutface" the satisfaction of knowing that she caused me to have this disgusting and shameful
accident. Though I had somehow managed to keep it a secret from my friends and my enemy in school, I still had to face my
mother. By the time I got home that day, the mess had been in my panties for well over an hour and my accident was im-
possible to hide. At first, she didn't seem to believe me when I told her. I think she was in a state of shock, not really believing
that an 18 year old would mess in her panties, but the smell more than convinced her what I was talking about. And when she
made me pull down my jeans and she got a good look at the massive load in my panties, her face grew red with anger.
"Disgusting!, Shame on You at your age," she kept repeating over and over again. She was so mad at me that she wasn't even
listening to my explanation of how it happened. For punishment, she sent me immediately to the bathroom and she made me
clean myself without even using a washcloth. I had to wipe so many times that I used up two entire rolls of toilet paper and had
to flush the toilet eleven times to get it all down. She made me clean my panties by first turning them inside out and dumping the
load in the toilet to get out the big pieces of the shit. Next, I had to rinse the panties in the sink and my mom made me scrub
until my fingers were raw and every single poop stain was gone. All I could think of at this point was how lucky I was that my
jeans were not soiled as well. If that had happened, not only would I have had something else to clean but then everyone at
school would have known and that would have been perhaps the worst humiliation possible. I was grounded for two weeks
and after being made to have a bowel movement on the toilet in front of my mother (apparently, I had succeeded in holding
some of it while I was in the corner), I was sent to my room. Then I did what I usually do when I get sent to my room --
masturbate!! I soon found myself masturbating feveriously about my accident. Not only couldn't I think of anything wrong with
going in my panties, I could think of a whole lot of things right with it. Mostly, I liked the way it made me feel between my legs
and the intense orgasms I got from masturbating about my accident. I later learned that the only thing more intense than
masturbating about an accident is actually masturbating in soiled panties. Today, my panties are my preferred place to move my
bowels. Because my punishment for this one and other poop messes are seldom pleasant (I have been punished many times for
my "accidents") I have to be careful about enjoying my fetish. Most of the time, I have no choice but to go in the toilet. But the
times that I do get to mess myself are well worth waiting for. Hopefully, society will no longer look down on women who go to
the bathroom in their panties.
Email:
that the best place for poop is not the toilet but in my panties. Like most people, I guess, I was toilet trained at an early age and
soon after that stopped having accidents altogether. Had it not been for a freak occurrence during my high school years, I might
still be using the toilet all the time and missing out on this great fetish. Though the accident occurred in m senior year, the story
begins when I was a sophomore. As sophomores, myself and another girl were both competing for the attention of the same
guy - a real hunk of a senior who was wide receiver on the football team and captain of the basketball team. I dated him first
and we were going together for several months before the other girl, whom I call "Slutface" , stole him away from me. To make
matters worse, it was at one of my own parties that she latched onto him and she always delighted in rubbing my face in her
con- quest. Nor did she ever make any secret of the fact that she was "his chosen one" because she was always willing to
spread her legs for him -- something that I was not yet ready for. I know that this may sound old-fashioned but I was barely 15
years old at the time. Anyway, from that moment on, the two of us were "enemies for life." We fought all through high school
and I do mean "fought." While a lot of our confront- ations were merely verbal, mostly words of the four letter persuasion, a lot
of our altercations were actually knock-down, drag-out, hair-pulling fights. You wouldn't believe how many times we were
punished at school for what we said and did to each other. But we hated each other so much, I simply didn't matter. The Vice-
Principal used to call us the "detention twins" in recognition of all the time that we spent there and that it was always together
that we were punished. We once had to serve four straight weeks of detention for two really nasty hair-pulling fights within two
weeks of each other and during our senior year, we twice had Saturday Detention (like in the Breakfast Club movie) for
various incidents. Once, they even made us stay after school and write 100 times on the chalkboard, "I promise never to fight in
school again." Countless times we were made to write apologies to each other and often got our mouths washed out for
swearing. We both got kicked off the cheerleading squad, I got kicked off the basketball team, and she was kicked off
basketball and soccer. One time we spent two entire weeks of study halls cleaning bathrooms when one of our fights ended up
busting two sinks and a toilet in one of the lavatories. On this particular day that I'm writing about, it was right after my sixth
period class and I had some business to care of in the girls' room. Just as I was walking into the lavatory and heading for the
one unoccupied stall, "Slutface" just happened to be coming out of another stall. She couldn't resist sticking her foot out and it
sent me flying into the floor. I barely missed hitting my head on a stall door and even as it was I had cut my lip a little bit. This
was really embarrassing because after everyone saw that I was alright, everyone in the bathroom (and it was crowded at the
time) thought that this was hilariously funny. Well, I didn't think it was funny at all and I charged at "Slutface" intending to exact
my revenge. I hit her, she hit me, and it went on from there like it had so many time before this. This particular altercation,
however, was one of our nastiest. Before it was over, not only were my clothes dirty from rolling around on the bathroom floor,
but my blouse had been torn as well. My lip had been cut from her ring when she slugged me across the face and my forehead
felt a little sore from when I hit the floor initially. As for her, she ended up with a few facial scratches and a little less hair --
courtesy of my hands. The back of her hair was soaking wet from where I had dunked it into a toilet (and a partially unflushed
toilet at that) and the fight was broken up just as I was trying to stick her face in that same disgusting toilet water. We were
immediately taken to the Vice-Principal's office. Just judging by our appearance assured us that we would be dealt with
severely. Cutting right to the chase he gave us two Saturday Detentions and school is the last place I wanted to be for five
hours (8 AM to 1 PM) on a Saturday morning. He also gave us a week of regular detention and so many extra homework
assignments to do that I wondered if I'd ever have any free time again. But this time, the Vice- Principal was madder than I'd
ever seen him and he just didn't stop with the punishments. He gave us the same basic lecture that we had heard on many
previous occasions (about maturity and how we couldn't act our age) but this time his tone was a lot angrier. He went on to say
that as long as we were going to act like five year olds, he was going to treat us like that. He took us to the main entrance lobby
of the school right outside his outer office. He sent "Slutface" into one corner and told her to stand there facing the wall and her
sent me to do the same in an opposite corner. He also made it perfectly clear that we'd be spending the rest of the afternoon
there until detention was let out. Although it was embarrassing for an eighteen year old high school senior to be seen standing in
the corner like a little girl (not to mention the tedium of staring at the wall for close to three hours), compared to out other
punishments, this didn't seem all that bad. But then I realized how much worse a punishment this was for me than for "Slutface."
You see, she had already used the toilet when the fight started but I had not. I had to poop kind of bad by now and I seriously
doubted if I could hold it through 3 hours in the corner especially if I couldn't sit down. Holding it in for that long would at best
be extremely uncomfortable and at worst -- something that hadn't happened to me since I was seven years old. To make a long
story short, thats exactly what happened. No matter how much I begged him, the Vice-Principal would not let me leave my
assigned corner until my time was up -- not even to go to the bathroom. Anyway, before long I just couldn't hold it in anymore.
Suddenly, it all came out at once -- one big soft log of poop followed by two smaller ones. It was a lot of poop and really
sticky, too. It spread quickly through my panties, all over and through my ass, and some of the load even got onto my thighs. It
was a bad mess to say the least. But even after the bowel movement came out in my panties (and I'm sure after a while that
bastard Vice-Principal knew what he'd made me do), he would not let me out of the corner. I had to stand there the whole rest
of the time, probably close to an hour, with that mess in my panties. He did have the courtesy to dismiss "slutface" first and after
she had left the lobby he came over and dismissed me. "I told you I had to go to the bathroom really bad," I said to him, "You
know you made me mess in my pants!" "I take that back about you acting like a five year old," he teased me back, "A three
year old is more like it." And he still didn't let me go to the girls' room as he followed me to my locker and out of the school.
"You go clean that up at home," he told me, "You're not going to mess up one of my girls' rooms with that load." I was tempted
to answer him back, but the last thing I needed at this point was more punishment and I felt lucky enough that no one else in the
school knew of my accident and I certainly wanted to keep it that way. I just left the school in tears, walking carefully with that
awful load of poop in my panties and all over my backside. Even though I knew that this was not my fault at all -- and in spite
of my erotic feelings -- I was still embarrassed by having the messy accident and was desperate for it to remain a secret.
Especially, I didn't want to give "slutface" the satisfaction of knowing that she caused me to have this disgusting and shameful
accident. Though I had somehow managed to keep it a secret from my friends and my enemy in school, I still had to face my
mother. By the time I got home that day, the mess had been in my panties for well over an hour and my accident was im-
possible to hide. At first, she didn't seem to believe me when I told her. I think she was in a state of shock, not really believing
that an 18 year old would mess in her panties, but the smell more than convinced her what I was talking about. And when she
made me pull down my jeans and she got a good look at the massive load in my panties, her face grew red with anger.
"Disgusting!, Shame on You at your age," she kept repeating over and over again. She was so mad at me that she wasn't even
listening to my explanation of how it happened. For punishment, she sent me immediately to the bathroom and she made me
clean myself without even using a washcloth. I had to wipe so many times that I used up two entire rolls of toilet paper and had
to flush the toilet eleven times to get it all down. She made me clean my panties by first turning them inside out and dumping the
load in the toilet to get out the big pieces of the shit. Next, I had to rinse the panties in the sink and my mom made me scrub
until my fingers were raw and every single poop stain was gone. All I could think of at this point was how lucky I was that my
jeans were not soiled as well. If that had happened, not only would I have had something else to clean but then everyone at
school would have known and that would have been perhaps the worst humiliation possible. I was grounded for two weeks
and after being made to have a bowel movement on the toilet in front of my mother (apparently, I had succeeded in holding
some of it while I was in the corner), I was sent to my room. Then I did what I usually do when I get sent to my room --
masturbate!! I soon found myself masturbating feveriously about my accident. Not only couldn't I think of anything wrong with
going in my panties, I could think of a whole lot of things right with it. Mostly, I liked the way it made me feel between my legs
and the intense orgasms I got from masturbating about my accident. I later learned that the only thing more intense than
masturbating about an accident is actually masturbating in soiled panties. Today, my panties are my preferred place to move my
bowels. Because my punishment for this one and other poop messes are seldom pleasant (I have been punished many times for
my "accidents") I have to be careful about enjoying my fetish. Most of the time, I have no choice but to go in the toilet. But the
times that I do get to mess myself are well worth waiting for. Hopefully, society will no longer look down on women who go to
the bathroom in their panties.
Email:
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