Alison and the Lust-Crazed Army of Sentient Poo Monsters

Alison Dawkins stared out of the car window at the passing beech hedge, trying to make out the identity of the birds on the lake beyond. It was hard to tell at this distance, particularly since she could only see them for a fraction of a second at a time. She had just about decided that they were mallards when a sharp instruction from her brother Michael jolted her from her reverie.
"Quick," he said, "grab the forty miles per hour sign."
She bent down and felt around under her seat for the A3-sized placards that he had made up. She pulled them out and flipped through them, looking for the one he wanted.
"Good grief, would you look at this idiot?" growled Michael. "Doesn't he know what a de-restricted sign means, for heaven's sake?" He changed down into third gear and cruised up to a few yards behind the bumper of the car in front, edging out towards the middle of the road in the hope that a break in the oncoming traffic would coincide with a long straight stretch. To his delight, after the next corner the road was clear for a couple of hundred yards.
"Okay, here we go," he said. "Hold up the sign!"
As the car swung out to overtake, Alison pressed her sign against the window, while her brother hooted to get the attention of the other car's driver. Peeping around the edge of the placard, she saw the elderly gentleman in question start in surprise as he read the message: "THIS IS NOT A 40 LIMIT, YOU IDIOT!"
Leaving the old man spluttering indignantly in his wake, Michael grinned as he quickly roared up to fifty miles per hour then changed up into fourth, still accelerating. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "Thanks Ali."
Alison replaced the signs under her seat and returned to staring out of the window. Her brother glanced across at her. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, fine," she replied a little dolefully. A moment later, she added, "I was kind of hoping we could have another look at your spell book this weekend."
"Now, Ali, you know my feelings on that," her brother reproached her gently. "I didn't intend for you to see that at all, and what I told you was meant to put you off, not encourage you."
"But it's magic, Mike. How could I not be incredibly curious about it?"
Michael sighed. "I know, I know. But trust me - I've had some very major problems with spells I've cast in the past. Some of those that I cast on other people had horrible consequences."
"But didn't you say that the nasty consequences could be avoided if you were careful?"
"Sometimes. Usually," he admitted. "But there was always the potential for accidents, and I experienced a few too many of those, which is why I gave it up. I haven't practised magic in almost three months now - since just before you came to stay."
"But haven't you been tempted?" inquired Alison.
"Occasionally, perhaps. But not enough to want to risk it."
Alison pouted. It was just too awful to discover that actual magic really did exist, only to be told she was never to experience it. She tried again. "But think of all the good you could do!" she pressed him.
He shook his head. "I once felt the same way," he said. "But painful experience made me a sadder and a wiser man."
Alison looked at him querulously, trying to place the reference. Then she smiled and said, "Well, Mister Ancient Mariner, perhaps you just lost confidence in your abilities. But you know what they say: if at first you don't succeed…"
"…Give up," her brother finished. "And it wasn't the mariner, it was the wedding guest. But it's not a case of trying again if you fail - the consequences of failure are sometimes impossible to rectify. Invariably you end up making things worse."
Alison turned back to the window. "Whatever," she said in disappointment. "Why do you keep the book, then?"
Michael shrugged uncomfortably. "Well I wouldn't want it falling into the wrong hands," he said.
"So why not destroy it?"
"Oh I couldn't do that - it's far too old, valuable and unique. It would be like … I don't know … dismantling Stonehenge or something."
"What are you going to do with it, then?"
"Just keep it, I suppose. Pass it on to my kids eventually, assuming I have any. Or to you, if I don't - if you promise not to try using it."
Alison said nothing. She knew perfectly well that she would not promise any such thing. If she ever got hold of that book, nothing would prevent her from experimenting with it. She changed the subject. "So you'll be back next Saturday, then?" she asked.
"Yes, sometime in the afternoon," he confirmed. "It's a long drive down from Newcastle - I'll probably leave early in the morning and stop for lunch somewhere on the way. You going to be studying hard while I'm gone?"
Alison shrugged. "Sure," she said. "Mr Allen's set some pretty tough assignments." Then she frowned in annoyance. "You know, that arsehole actually said to me it was weird that I was living with my brother!"
Michael pursed his lips. "Well what did he think you should do after Mum … you know…?"
"I know! I said that to him. He said I should be living with my grandparents or something."
"What an idiot. As if you'd move out of the city away from all your friends… What a prat."
"Yeah. Anyway he lightened up a bit when I told him how old you were. But even so."
She lapsed into silence and neither of them said much for the rest of the journey home. Michael backed into the driveway and Alison got out. She walked around to the driver's side, where Michael was winding down his window.
"You got everything you need?" he asked her. "House keys?"
Alison patted her pocket. It clinked. "And sixty pounds in cash," she said. "I'll be fine."
"Well there's plenty of food in both the fridge and the freezer," said Michael. "My mobile phone's playing up at the moment, so you won't be able to call me, but I'll call you every evening to make sure you're doing okay."
"That's not necessary," Alison assured him. "I'll be fine. Now go on, and don't worry about me."
"It's my job to worry about you," he responded. "I'll call you tonight at least, just in case you think of anything you need to tell me or ask me."
"Okay. Bye then."
"Cheerio."
She waved to him as he drove out of the driveway and headed off down the road. Then she turned, pulled out her keys, and entered the house. Hesitating only for a moment, she ran upstairs and pulled down the loft ladder. She knew where Michael kept his spell book, and she was determined to have another look at it, at the very least.
Ten minutes later she was sitting in front of Michael's computer with the book, reading through both the spells and their translations that Michael had painstakingly typed up in several Word documents. It made fascinating reading, but she soon found that Michael's work was unfinished - some of the spells were only partially translated, and some had not been translated at all.
One particular spell caught her eye. It was a cure for constipation. Michael had only translated the first couple of lines, but it was obvious what the spell was designed to do. Although she would never have admitted it to Michael, Alison often suffered from this complaint, and she always hated asking for appropriate medicine over the counter at the chemist. It was too embarrassing for words.
She stared thoughtfully at the spell, saying the strange Old English words to herself in her head. It did not seem very hard, and it was surely a harmless enough spell to begin with. Michael had written "Spell 331: Relief of Constipation. Provides immediate relief, softening stools and causing their rapid, easy expulsion from the bowels." There was plenty more writing in Old English, but Michael had not seen fit to translate it. Perhaps that was because it was not important enough to warrant translation.
Further reading unearthed some other spells she was keen to try, but the constipation one sounded the simplest and most straightforward. She took the book downstairs and turned the kettle on to boil some water. Michael's notes at the front of the book explained how spells were to be cast, and she knew that she needed a weak sugar solution in order to cast the spell. She drew a circle on the floor with a felt-tip pen, and waited impatiently for the water to boil. Eventually it did so, and she poured it into a cup and stirred a spoonful of sugar into it. When it had dissolved, she poured it on to the floor in the middle of the circle, and spread the liquid around until it completely covered the circular area. Then she stepped into the circle, and cast the spell…

That evening, while she was watching television, the urge came upon her to go to the loo. Remembering the spell, she excitedly ran up to the bathroom, took off her skirt and panties, and sat down on the toilet. No sooner had she done so than her anus opened up and a long, soft poo slid out of her rectum and splashed into the water. After a series of difficult and painful evacuations over the past month or so, this was a blessed relief. Beaming with pleasure and pride in her successful casting of the spell, Alison wiped herself, flushed, and washed her hands. Returning to Michael's computer, she continued reading the translations, wondering what other spells she could cast.
Spell 102 caught her eye. According to her brother's notes, it gave non-living objects limited power of movement, so that they would act in a desired fashion. If the spell was cast on a bowling ball (as Michael's example described) it would always make a strike, no matter how badly it was thrown. If cast on a pendulum clock, it would never run down or lose time. Apparently the spell had trouble with electrical appliances, but otherwise it was quite powerful, and Alison decided to try it right away.
She returned to the kitchen and made up some more sugar solution. Spreading it around inside the circle, she stepped on to the wet patch of linoleum and recited the spell, concentrating on her wristwatch as she did so. The watch was a gift from her late mother, a beautiful old analogue watch with a tiny knob on the side for winding it up. Alison, used to battery-operated watches from an early age, frequently forgot to wind it up and often had to spend long frustrating minutes winding the hands around to their correct positions once the mechanism had wound down. Perhaps, she thought to herself, this spell would enable the watch to take care of its own maintenance.
It was, of course, impossible to tell whether the spell had worked or not, and would be for some time. But she had high hopes as she ascended the stairs once again to continue reading the spell book. Over the course of the next couple of hours, she found several spells that intrigued her, and she tried one or two of them out. There was one that caused objects (again non-living) to replicate themselves, and she cast this one on the money in her wallet. This, she felt, might well prove extremely useful. She might never have to work for a living!
Another spell set her heart racing as she read it. It was a spell to cause a sentient being to become sexually attracted to you. Excitedly she ran to her room and rummaged through her bag. She soon found what she was looking for: a photo of Vince Lambert, one of the senior boys at her school. She had worshiped him from afar for years, but he had always ignored her. Now, however, things would be different. She took the spell book and the photo downstairs, stood in the middle of the still-wet circle, and read out the spell, concentrating on the photo in front of her.
Satisfied with her work, she put the spell book in the study next to the computer and went back to watching television. The phone rang a few minutes later, and she got up to answer the phone in the hall. It was her brother.
"Hi," she said. "Oh good… Yes, I've had something to eat. Stop worrying! How was your journey? … Oh, really? Bummer! … Well, at least you've got there safely… No, everything's fine here. I have everything I need… Yes I'm sure! Just… No, you don't need to call me every night… Well that's all right - if I do need anything, or if there's some emergency, I can call Aunt Beth… Uh-huh… Actually I was just in the middle of watching Red Dwarf, but it's okay… All right. Talk to you soon then. Bye."
She hung up and returned to the settee in the living room. At about ten o'clock she felt like she needed to go to the toilet again, so she climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom. Sitting down, she strained and was somewhat surprised when a soft poo, even longer than the earlier one, slid easily out of her anus and dropped into the water below. She got up and glanced down into the bowl, then gasped as she saw it twitch, apparently of its own accord. Eyes wide, she stared at it for a full minute, wondering if it would move again. And then, suddenly, it did. It began to bend in the middle, taking on the rough shape of a banana, and then it flexed itself again.
Alison did not wait for it to move again. She leaped forward and flushed the toilet, sending her poo around the U-bend with all possible speed. She shuddered as she wiped herself. What had that been all about? Was it magic? Had one of her spells somehow affected her poo? It did not seem feasible.
Putting the matter out of her mind, she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. Putting on a t-shirt and a fresh pair of panties, she climbed between the sheets, then she switched off her light and thought about Vince and how he might behave the next time he saw her. Before long she fell asleep.

Shortly after eleven she woke up with a start. Her bowels felt full again. A cold sweat broke out upon her brow. How was this possible? She had been twice in the last four hours, and had passed copious quantities of faecal matter. What was going on?
She got up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, she stumbled towards the door, still half-asleep. But then something happened to bring her abruptly to her senses: her panties suddenly filled up with poo.
She squealed in alarm and her hand shot back to cradle her sagging panties. The expulsion had occurred completely without warning, a long soft turd firing out of her anus and curling up around her buttocks. Cursing, she began to waddle towards the bathroom, trying not to lose any of the poo out of the sides of her panties.
But then she stopped in her tracks, stiffening in alarm. The poo was moving! She could definitely feel it writhing about of its own accord inside her underwear. The next second she gasped in horror as she felt her vagina being forced open and her poo snaking its way into her cunt. In a panic she ran to the bathroom, while the rest of her poo continued to slither into her, penetrating her like an immensely long, soft, disgusting brown penis.
She reached the toilet and pulled her panties down quickly. But there was no more poo left in them - just a brown stain and streaky marks. Bending down frantically to look between her legs, she saw the very end of her long poo disappearing inside her vagina. She grabbed at it, but she was too late. Screwing up her face in disgust, she stuck two fingers into her cunt, feeling around for the poo. But whether it felt her coming or because it had a further purpose, it retreated deeper into her body and evaded her questing touch.
Now extremely worried, Alison lay down on the floor in an attempt to get a better angle, and she pushed her fingers as deep inside her cunt as possible. But it was no use - the poo had somehow forced itself into her womb. Alison gave up, and looked down at her abdomen. It was distended, as if she were full of wind or … and here she shuddered at the thought … a couple of months pregnant.
Shakily she got to her feet. What was she to do now? Call for an ambulance? What on Earth would she tell them? She pulled some toilet paper from the roll fixed to the wall, and painstakingly wiped herself clean. Maybe, she thought to herself, the poo would come out by itself. At any rate there did not seem to be much she could do about it at the moment.
She returned to her bedroom, put on a clean pair of panties, and lay down, though she knew she would not be able to sleep. She fancied she could feel something stirring inside her belly, but the sensation was brief and she decided after a minute that she had probably imagined it. She pulled the covers up to her neck and huddled under them, hoping her brother would call again soon.
An hour later she awoke suddenly. Something was wrong. She felt … full. A great pressure was building up in her abdomen. She quickly reached over and turned her bedside light on, then threw back the covers. She screamed in terror as she saw that her belly had swelled up like a balloon - she looked nine months pregnant. And whatever was inside her was moving, and pushing outwards. Involuntarily Alison spread her legs apart, preparing to give birth, but then she realised she was still wearing her panties. She reached down to try to remove them, but it was difficult to negotiate her vast bulge. And no sooner had she grabbed hold of them than a massive contraction hit her and she cried out in pain.
She strained hard, spreading her legs and trying to breathe like women did in hospital dramas when they were giving birth. She felt her vaginal opening dilate as her monstrous cargo fought to escape from her body. Raising her legs after the contraction had subsided, she finally managed to pull her panties off, and she tossed them on to the floor. Then another contraction hit, and she felt as if her groin was on fire as a huge round object forced its way through her orifice. For an instant she was stretched wider than she would have thought possible, and then suddenly the object was through, and she sank back on to her pillow, exhausted.
But more was to come. She could feel that the object was still half inside her and half outside, and she raised herself up on to her elbows to see what exactly it was. From the vile smell of excrement, she knew what it was made of, but she was shocked at the truly awful sight that met her eyes.
She was looking at the head of a baby. At the sight she screamed with horror, then strained for all she was worth to get the rest of the hideous creature out of her body. With a wet, slithering sound, it emerged completely: an infant apparently made entirely out of poo, rather thinner than a human baby, but considerably longer. Its head, mercifully, was quite small, otherwise she would surely have been split open as it came out.
The creature kicked its arms and legs feebly as Alison watched it in horror. Then a sudden resolve came upon her, and she grabbed hold of it and got up off the bed. It struggled in her hands, and her fingers sank into its flesh which, she discovered, was no more and no less than pure poo. She shuddered and rushed through to the bathroom, where she deposited the disgusting thing in the toilet. Then she flushed.
The baby was far too big to be flushed, however, and it was also none too keen on Alison's plan. Here it proved itself rather more precocious than a human baby, for it pulled itself upright and began climbing out of the bowl even as the flushing water poured over it. Alison backed away, horrified, as it turned beady little brown-within-brown eyes upon her. Then it smiled slowly, revealing a wide, toothless mouth in which lolled what could only be described as a tongue.
Alison fled, hurrying back to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She threw herself on her bed, sobbing, wondering how she was ever going to get herself out of this mess. It was all the fault of the spells she had cast, she had no doubt of that, though she had no idea how or why they had gone wrong.
And then she realised that her bowels were full again. She badly needed to poo, but the thought of going back to the bathroom to face that … thing … it was too awful a concept for words. But her dilemma soon became academic - a long, slender poo slithered out of her anus without warning and then immediately itself turned around, its rounded front end seeking her cunt.
But Alison was too quick. In a flash she had rolled over and jumped off the bed, whereupon she ran for the door as if terrified that her poo would try to come after her. Opening it, she hurried through, only to trip over the nightmarish creature to which she had given birth just a few minutes ago. She fell to the floor, hitting her head on a large, ceramic plant pot which contained a three-year-old yucca. Dazed, she rolled over on to her back, then gasped as she saw that her faecal offspring had apparently grown larger since she had last seen it. It was almost three feet tall, and it was standing upright with the confidence of a human child of the same height.
Without a sound, it pounced upon Alison, landing on her stomach and leaving brown smears of poo all over her flesh where the t-shirt had ridden up to expose her midriff. It reached for her face with two chubby brown arms, and she grabbed hold of its wrists with her hands. Its flesh was soft and her fingers sank into the poo, but although she squeezed as hard as she could, she could not break or sever the horrible infant's limbs. A centimetre or two beneath the squishy excremental epidermis lay a tough skeletal framework of highly compressed poo, and this effectively held the abominable creature together in one piece.
She wrestled with it for a few seconds, then cried out in alarm and clamped her legs together as she felt something probe between the lips of her pussy. With a sinking heart and a churning stomach she felt her vaginal opening widen as her most recent poo slid smoothly into her cunt. Summoning all her strength she rolled over on to her side, hurling the poo-child down the stairs. Then she scrabbled at her pussy, inserting her fingers into her cunt, but once again it was too late - the turd was entrenched deep within her body.
This was the last straw. She just had to do something. Perhaps there was a spell for this type of emergency. She got to her feet and dashed into the study, slamming the door behind her.
As she reached out to switch the computer on, she realised that her hands were covered in poo. Indeed, so were her arms, her inner thighs, her shins, and most of her front. She took off her t-shirt and wiped herself down thoroughly, managing to get herself pretty clean within a minute or two. She tossed the t-shirt in a corner - it was now disgustingly filthy.
She switched on the computer and waited impatiently for Windows to load up. She forced herself to relax, to calm down, while she opened the spell book and flicked through it idly. She could understand hardly anything without her brother's computerised notes, but it was at least something to do.
The hard drive finally stopped whirring, and she loaded up the spell translations document. Poring through it, she searched for some reference to reversing the effects of spells, but after half an hour of reading she began to despair of finding such a thing.
And then the door handle began to turn. Paralysed with fear, Alison watched as it rotated through ninety degrees, whereupon the door started to open, pushed from without. Alison leapt to her feet and charged against the door, shutting it again and holding the handle firmly in place. It tried to turn underneath her fingers, but her grip was tight and she successfully resisted the attempt.
But how long could she stay here? She realised she needed something to brace the door with, and cast her eyes about the room. There did not seem to be anything that would serve the purpose, but then, what was the point in barricading herself in here? There was no phone in this room, unfortunately, so she could not even call for the emergency services.
Her gaze lit upon her stomach, and a cold sweat broke out upon her brow as she noticed her abdomen was bulging as if she were five or six months along. This was no good - in another half-hour she would be giving birth to another poo-baby, and then what would she do?
Leaning over as far as she could without letting go of the door handle, she turned the computer monitor so that it was facing her. Pulling the keyboard towards her, she managed to reach the Page Up and Page Down keys, which she used to continue searching through the document.
Twenty minutes later, something that sounded pretty large was hurling itself against the study door with a loud THUD, THUD sound. The handle quickly turned beneath her grasp and she yelped, but she managed to keep it under her control. Continuing through the translations, she suddenly came across what she was looking for: a cancellation spell. Reading through it carefully, she worked out what she needed to do and memorised the strange Old English words.
Now it was time to make a dash for the kitchen. She took a deep breath, then pulled open the study door and ran out on to the landing, straight into the waiting arms of her hour-old poo-child, which was now more than six feet tall and built like a heavyweight boxer. She screamed as it wrapped its arms around her, pulling her against its foul, squishy body. Her naked breasts pressed into its stomach, sinking deep into the soft poo. Her pregnant bulge did likewise, then slid up the creature's torso as it lifted Alison bodily off the ground.
She screamed again and began kicking at it, but although her toes sank a couple of inches into the monster's legs with each blow, it did not appear to feel any pain. It carried her through into her bedroom and threw her down on to her bed. Before she had time to roll out from under it, it had lowered itself on top of her, pinning her down so she could not move. In the illumination of her bedside light, she watched in horror as its moist, knobbly, evil-smelling face approached hers with a sickening inevitability. Its mouth opened and a long, brown tongue snaked out, seeking her lips.
Eyes wide with terror, Alison kept her lips firmly shut, but the creature's tongue merely began to lick all over her face, coating her cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and eyelids with sticky wet poo. In doing so, perhaps inadvertently, it pushed some poo up into both of her nostrils, so that she could not breathe. She was forced to open her mouth to take a gulp of air, and in that moment the disgusting long tongue of poo slid into her mouth and began to wrestle with her own tongue in a vile French kiss.
She exhaled sharply through her nose, blasting her nostrils free of poo, and began to hyperventilate as her brain refused to acknowledge what was happening to her. She felt the monster's tongue probe the back of her throat, causing her to gag, but she managed to hold her supper down as the immensely long tongue snaked down her oesophagus towards her stomach.
A moment later she experienced her first contraction. The creature apparently felt it, too, for it withdrew its tongue and got up on to its knees, straddling her. Alison tried to get up, but it dispassionately shoved her back down. Turning around so that it had its back to her face, it sat heavily on her chest and bent down to have a look at her pussy. It pulled her legs apart, and Alison beat upon its lower back with her fists, to no avail.
Another contraction came, and she began to strain to force the new poo-baby out. The huge monster sitting astride her began to massage her pussy, sliding its squishy hands up and down over her clit and labia. This caused her to shudder with revulsion, but it seemed to help a little with the pain.
With the next contraction the new poo-baby emerged, inch by inch, until the adult monster could get hold of it. The huge creature pulled it out and turned around with a great beam upon its brown face, showing Alison the little version of itself that she had just given birth to. She turned away, tears pouring down her cheeks.
The monster set the infant down on the bed next to him, then it lay back down on top of Alison, who was still on her back with her legs spread. She was trying to ignore what was happening, to think of something else, but this became impossible when she felt something new enter her abused vagina. Looking up with a shocked expression into the smiling face of the adult creature on top of her, she realised it had just inserted a large, faecal penis into her. It began to thrust, pumping its hard member in and out of her cunt, while its open mouth drooled liquid poo on to her face. She turned her face to one side and spat in disgust.
As the disgusting beast fucked her with what was in fact simply a very firm poo, Alison tried to work out what had gone wrong with her spells. The first one she had cast, she recalled, had been to relieve her constipation. This had apparently worked. So what had gone wrong? Were these ghastly events all side-effects of that spell? It seemed hard to believe.
The second spell had been supposed to grant her wristwatch the ability to move of its own accord. Had this one, perhaps, backfired? Had the spell been cast not on her watch but on the poo inside her? But why should this be the case? Alison had no idea about this, but it was looking likely that this is what had happened.
Another of her spells caused objects to replicate themselves. Again, this fit the profile. Yet another spell, cast on the photo of her beloved Vince, was supposed to make him lust after her. And again, this spell had apparently been cast on her poo. But why? What had she done wrong?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden increase in the pace of the monster's thrusting. Its body trembled and its hands gripped her shoulders tightly. She felt a surge of warm diarrhoea flood up into her cunt and, though she did not know it, into her womb, where a dozen or so tiny new poo-embryos began to grow at an exponential rate.
The monster had now grabbed her wrists and pushed them up to the headboard, where Alison's second poo-child was waiting with a pair of her stockings. It began to inexpertly tie her left wrist to one of the vertical wooden bars, and Alison, once she realised this, began to struggle with renewed vigour. The adult monster held her fast, however, and within ten minutes the task was complete: Alison was securely tied and would not be able to free herself without help. And help was a very long way away.
The adult monster, now a good seven feet in height, pushed Alison's knees up against her chest and began to shove its penis, which had recovered its hardness, into her anus. She cried out in pain and horror, but there was nothing she could do, and soon the monster's penis was buried deep inside her, thrusting back and forth and seemingly growing larger all the time.
For a good half hour the monster fucked Alison's rectum, and she could do nothing but watch helplessly while her second child grew larger and larger. By the time the adult had pumped a couple of pints of diarrhoea into her bowels, the child was approaching four feet in height and its erect penis was obviously troubling it. As soon as its big brother pulled out of Alison's anus amid a torrent of liquid poo, it positioned itself between her legs and hammered its erection into her cunt. As Alison glanced down to look at it despite herself, she noticed with a numb feeling of self-loathing that her belly was back to its maximum bulging size.
But it did not stop there, and she was far from ready to give birth. As Offspring Number Two had its way with her over the next fifteen minutes, Alison's belly grew to unheard-of proportions, exceeding football-size, then basketball-size, and finally approaching beachball-size as her faecal rapist shot his load into her. She felt certain she must be about to explode, when her first contraction suddenly hit and she began to strain hard in an attempt to give birth.
Over the next half hour, she gave birth to one after another of her first poo-child's own children, popping one out every minute or so. By the time she had finished, her second offspring was as large as the first, and the first of the new batch was already half-grown and ready for its first fuck, which the adults generously allowed it.
And now her bowels were full again, and a two-foot-long snake of a poo slithered out of her anus. She was completely unable to prevent it from entering her cunt, and so it took up residence within her womb alongside the growing embryos of her second child.
From then on Alison was being screwed constantly by a never-ending succession of poo monsters. An hour later, her room was so crowded that some of the monsters had to go out and wait on the landing for their turn. By that time she was also giving birth again, to a whole new batch. Frustrated that they could not screw her while she was giving birth, several of the adults stood around her and masturbated until they showered her body with copious quantities of diarrhoea. Her hair was soaked in the stuff, her body covered in it, and still she was popping out more baby monsters who would soon add to her torment. She wanted to die.
 

At five-thirty in the morning, when she had just given birth to her forty-ninth poo-child - the last of the latest batch - an exhausted Alison was surprised to find her hands being untied. She sat up and began to rub her wrists, but powerful arms told hold of her and she was lifted and carried out of the room. Cradled in the arms of a seven-foot poo monster, she was as helpless as ever, but she struggled nonetheless as she was taken downstairs to the front door, which was being held open by one of the monsters.
It was light outside by now, but still quiet. A cool breeze caressed Alison's naked body as she was taken outside and around to the back of the house. Seizing her chance to attract the attention of her huge-breasted next-door neighbour, Karen, she opened her mouth and screamed, but a quick slap of a squishy brown hand over her mouth silenced her.
She was passed over the fence to a waiting monster, who then held her impaled her on his penis and fucked her while, one by one, all the monsters climbed over the fence. Seeing the filthy mess they were all leaving behind them, Alison was cheered by the thought that at least her brother would be able to track her, if she remained a captive until he got back. Then, once the awful beast holding her had filled her womb with more diarrhoea, she was carted off again, and it seemed the monsters were heading for the farmland at the edge of the town. This worried Alison - if the creatures managed to get her out into the countryside, it would be much easier for them to remain undetected, and to keep hold of her. She could not allow that to happen.
Five minutes later, as she was being passed over a brick wall, Alison judged she now had as good an opportunity for escape as she was likely to get. She kicked desperately and managed to free her leg just as the monster behind her let go of her arms. Now straddling the brick wall, she jumped up and started running along it, overjoyed to be free yet terribly fearful of being recaptured. She dropped down into a well-tended garden, stumbled, then recovered herself and continued running. A couple of thuds behind her told her that her pursuers were not far away.
Increasing her pace to a sprint, the naked, poo-covered girl vaulted a wooden gate and dashed out into the road, where she turned and ran for her life. A glance behind her confirmed her fears - the nearest monsters were less than twenty yards away and gaining on her, leaving messy brown footprints as they ran.
She ducked suddenly into a narrow alley, hoping to find a ladder that she could climb - she fancied she was probably more agile than they, and decided her best chance of escaping would be to choose routes that the monsters would find difficult, given their rather unique anatomical characteristics.
But the alley contained no ladders that she could see, only a number of doorways that she dared not try for fear they should lead into rooms with no other exits. On her left she spotted another alley, and she darted into it, hoping the monsters had not yet turned the last corner and would now lose her.
The alley, however, proved to be a dead end, and her heart sank. But then she noticed a manhole cover set into the concrete floor, and she quickly ran over to it and struggled to pull it open. It was heavy, but she managed to lift it and push it to one side of the hole. Peering down, she saw a ladder that led downward into the darkness. She swung her legs into the manhole and began to descend.
As her head reached the level of the ground, she tried to grab the manhole cover and pull it across the hole. But at that moment she heard the wet thudding of the monsters' feet, and saw them charging down the alley towards her. With a shriek, she abandoned the cover and quickly climbed down the ladder until she reached the bottom, twenty feet or so below. She found herself in cold, ankle-deep water, but it was so dark she could not see what kind of tunnel she was in or where the exits led.
Feeling around with her hands, she began to blunder blindly along the tunnel, wishing she had a torch. The squeaks of rats sent a chill running down her spine, but she bravely continued as quickly as she could. Splashing sounds behind her indicated that the monsters were still following, and she started running more quickly even though she knew she might at any moment hit something hard that would give her a nasty injury at this speed.
A step downwards caused her to trip and fall, but she splashed into the shallow water without any harm. Getting up, she realised she was at a junction, and turned left. Feeling along the wall for a ladder, she ran a little more cautiously, until she came to a point where the wall seemed to stop.
Further tactile investigation revealed she had come to an alcove in the wall, and this gave her an idea. Squeezing herself into the alcove, she kept very still in the hope that the creatures would pass by and not notice her. Hardly daring to breathe, she tried to ignore the rats running over her feet. One of them gave her ankle a nip and she fought down a yelp, then kicked the animal out into the tunnel. Placing her hands on her belly, she realised she was extremely pregnant again.
Then the first of the monsters came running past, closely followed by several others. After a short interval, some more arrived, jogging more slowly, and behind these were others that were walking, feeling their way along the walls. Alison, crouching down in her hiding place, prayed that she would not be discovered.
And, somehow, she was not. When she judged that about fifty monsters had passed by her, she tiptoed out of her alcove and began to retrace her steps. This proved to be difficult. Her belly was now bigger than a basketball and extremely heavy - she could manage only a slow walking pace and had to stop and rest every few minutes. All the time, of course, she was getting even bigger, and fifteen minutes later, at which point she judged she was truly lost, she sank to the floor under the weight of a beachball-sized bulge.
A contraction came upon her and she cried out involuntarily. A moment later the first poo-baby of the new brood began to emerge. She lay on her back and feebly tried to ward off the rats that scrambled over her body, nipping at her breasts, her arms, her legs and her torso, while she strained to expel the grotesque life-forms she had created.
Twenty minutes later, when the forty-nine adult poo monsters found her, she was still giving birth. In their tiny little minds they rejoiced. They had found their mother-goddess, and she in turn had found them a new home, one in which they were unlikely to be discovered, where they could hide out and multiply, filling the vast city sewer system with hundreds of their kind, all born to this beautiful woman who lay before them. Once she had finished giving birth to the latest brood, all fifty adults would take it in turns to fuck both her cunt and her anus, and after that, the new arrivals would be big enough to do the same. And by then this wonderful woman would be ready to give birth again. And again. And again…

MATES WIFE KATTHY

Mates wife Kathy , nothing spectacular to look at early 40's mousy blonde bob, very small tits that are nearly nonexistent but what god had left out everywhere else he had put it all in to her arse it was full, had very deep cleft and was magnificent a really womanly sexy arse , I have been ogling it for years clad in jeans, skirts etc. She had a habit of wearing the wrong type of knickers under her jeans, always a very clear knickers line not sure if is my pervy lust for her bottom but the crack of her arse was really deeper than average . She would also wear skirts knee length usually grey, or white office type close fitting skirts that always showed the line of her knickers or in the case of the white one the whole of her knickers often yellow lace or white lace semi full bum coverage don't think she was trying to be sexy just didn't have a clue her knickers were on show . often you could see that one side mostly had ridden up her arse and after a visit to the toilet was straight again.

Another one of my favourite outfits was a pair of pink shorts that were a floppy material not really super tight or even tight but due to the softness of the material and the shapely arse on many occasions the back would be stuck in her butt cleft with the knickers she had on beneath . Basically everything would end up her bottom at some point .

My mate was always moaning about her small tits and was not a bum man so her arse held no interest to him, on many occasions when in the bathroom using the toilet I would find a pair of her knickers and sniff them always caked in pussy juice but never anything in the bottom bit.

So I have been perving over kaths bum for 3 years now , I was out with Mike at the pub , when we are really pissed he says he is going of Kath as she could not stop farting , he said she has an issue with her hormones so the doctor has put her on medication to balance them and it has given her nonstop wind, at first he said she was trying to hide it by going to the toilet but  has now given up and is just farting around the house , she farts like every 10 minutes or more all day loud bubbly and rancid like egg he said he feels physically sick with it .

So the next day I go to Mike and Kaths , when I knocked kath said mikes out but you are cool to wait he should be home in 40 mins, she said she was just getting ready to go shopping with her mum . She had on her white knee length skirt and what looked like slightly cream knickers plastered across her arse . It was 15 mins watching tv kath had visited the toilet twice already without trying to make it obvious  , then it happened she bent forward to pick up her handbag on the coffee table to the right of the table giving me what  I thought was going to be just the usual arse view as she bent forward she farted really loudly all bubbly and wet instantly stinking up the room with egg  I immediately laughed but my cock was stiff as a post . OOOPS So sorry Steve been doing that lot lately Mike is unhappy but I can help it just bending forward I'm prone to releasing a fart and the smell makes me gag , I thinks it really funny it makes me laugh , not disclosing how turned on I was so ongoing when I was in the room with her she would just fart candidly some times as many as 20 farts in an hour all loud with volume , she would do it in jeans, skirts and even the shorts when they were stuck up her arse on occasion, she would comment on the smell and how it was a good vintage me laughing as usual to keep up the pretence. She got so carried away with the fun of it she said after a particularly long and bubbly fart how warm it made her drawers she would call them , she was so caught up in it all that she bent forward in her jeans and told me to put my hand over her bottom over the crack and let rip a fart, it was warm and lovely coming out of her knickers and jeans . I was so trying not to come at this point , I made sure I wore thick pants and jeans to hide anything as for her it was all a laugh not sexual at all , I was in heaven for sure , then it happened I was over when she was wearing the red floppy shorts with some real cling knickers , she stood in front of me laughing and asked if I could do her a favour and pull her drawers and shorts out of her bottom as it was uncomfortable , I could not believe it my cock was on the verge of exploding , I put my hand in to her bottom crack that was all warm and gently tried to get hold of the edge of her knickers through her shorts, they were firmly wedged and felt a little damp with sweat they were really wedged in there she said don't be shy dig firmly otherwise they won't come out  I finally got my finger under the materiel and tugged the gradually out as they started to come out of her cleft a very hot fart came through them and she laughed loudly I got you , well warm knickers and shorts in had filtering a hot fart I came silently in my pants . This continued including her standing over my head in her skirt so I could see her knickers as she farted , opening her legs and farting loudly through her knickers, pretending to fart accidentally in my face but never any sex .

Katy Perry Enslaves Taylor Swift byDPPUsername12345© Taylor's eyes slowly opened, and she started to lo

Katy Perry Enslaves Taylor Swift

 Taylor's eyes slowly opened, and she started to look at her surroundings with confusion. The last thing she remembered she was backstage after a concert, and after that everything was a blur...
After a few seconds, she realized she could barely move, and her whole body ached. She looked down and saw her hands and feet all tied up, and it looked like she was on someone's bed in a very tiny room. Immediately she let out a loud shriek, hoping someone would find her and save her from whoever did this. After a few minutes of screaming, she began to cry, convinced no one could hear her. But then, she saw the door start to open.
There in the doorway stood Katy Perry in a stunning tight black dress.
"Can you keep the noise down? I swear, it's like you're a baby!" She said, exasperated.
"What the hell is going on Katy!? Did you do this to me?" Taylor asked, holding back her tears.
Katy walked forward and grabbed Taylor by the chin. "Don't be so shocked. You know I've always hated you, so why wouldn't I want to kidnap you and keep you as my tour slave?" She said cheerily.
"T-tour slave?"
"You know how stressful a long tour can be. I just find it so much easier when I have a slave to take out my frustrations on and to serve me in every way I want!"
"You're fucking crazy Katy, let me go or I'll sue your ass!" Taylor screamed back.
"That's not going to happen, and you should really watch your mouth, missy, because otherwise it's going to get very well acquainted with my ass!" Katy said with a wink as she began to untie her new slave. "And please don't try to run, I would hate to have to beat the shit out of you this early."
As Taylor's restraints were released, her eyes widened with fear at Katy's threat, and she remained in place. "Okay Katy, I'll do what you say. Just please don't hurt me, okay?"
"You will call me Goddess from now on. And if I feel like hurting you. I will. Just try to keep me in a good mood if you want to avoid that."
"Y-yes Goddess..." Taylor choked out nervously. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can start by getting on your knees and kissing my shoes. I want to see my new slave under me, where you belong!" Katy laughed cruelly.
Taylor's jaw dropped. She'd never been forced to do something so humiliating, degrading - she was speechless. But Katy's threat of violence still rung in her head, so she slowly got off the bed and onto her knees in front of her new owner. She bent down and placed a gentle kiss on Katy's dirty high heel before her face twisted up in disgust.
"Do you have some kind of problem with my shoes, bitch? Because unless you want me to stomp your ugly face in, you better start showing some enthusiasm and thanking me for this privilege!" Katy screamed.
Taylor started quickly nodding her head and stammering in fear. "Y-y-yes Katy, I mean Goddess! I'm sorry!" Taylor's head returned to the shoes and she started kissing them all over. "Thank you for letting me kiss your shoes Goddess, they taste so good!" She lied.
"Of course they do. I'm a Goddess, everything about me is perfect!" Katy laughed.
Taylor started licking all over the shoes, even putting her face on the floor to lick the layer of dirt off the soles. Yet Katy still didn't seem satisfied.
"You know, if you were truly excited to kiss my shoes, you'd be dying to get a chance to worship my feet by now..." She said as she sat down and crossed her legs.
Taylor nodded in acceptance once more as she realized what her Goddess wanted. She carefully took off the shoes, and was immediately blown back by the horrid stench of Katy's bare feet. But she returned to her duty and started kissing the sweaty feet all over. Katy couldn't get enough of this, laughing as she wiggled her dirty toes around.
"Come on slave, don't be afraid to suck my toes, they won't bite!"
"Goddess I... They're so dirty!" Taylor whined, hoping for mercy.
Katy grabbed Taylor by the hair and roughly yanked her up. "You're going to learn that you don't disobey your Goddess, bitch!" Katy threw her over her knees, then pulled down Taylor's shorts as she struggled violently.
*WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK*
Katy smiled as she began to spank her slave. "I hope you learn your lesson soon, I want an obedient slave as soon as possible!" She paused her spanking for a moment to grope Taylor's ass. "Wow, your ass is even flatter than I thought!" She teased, then resumed spanking.
Taylor was flailing around wildly, but was far too weak to break out of Katy's grasp. Instead, she tried to do her best to placate Katy. "I'm sorry Goddess, I'll do everything you ask from now on!"
"Tell me exactly what you're gonna do, slave!" Katy taunted, still spanking.
"I'll suck your dirty, sweaty toes, Goddess! I'll lick all over your feet until they're perfectly clean, and I'll thank you for letting me do it!" Taylor yelled through tears. Her face turned bright red from embarrassment, but it was the only way to escape her punishment. Katy pushed her onto the ground, seeming satisfied, then crossed her legs again as Taylor went to work.
Taylor grabbed the sweaty feet and took Katy's big toe into her mouth, lovingly sucking on it. Katy laughed and started taking pictures on her phone, but Taylor didn't dare protest. She dutifully sucked all ten dirty, sweaty toes, and even licked between all of them, nearly gagging several times in the process. When she tried to lick the dirty soles, Katy giggled and kept kicking her slave in the face.
"So, slave, how did you like worshiping me feet?"
Taylor's head hung and she looked at the ground for several seconds. She clearly couldn't tell the truth, but it was the worst experience of her life. She hated having to play into Katy's games. "It was incredible. I love the smell and taste of your sweat, and I'm so grateful you allowed me to worship your feet." She said, the sound of defeat in her voice.
Katy laughed. "Good, because you're going to be serving my feet for a long, long time!"
 aty pulled out her phone and started recording. "Stand up and get naked for the camera, bitch. Try to look good, because everybody's going to watch this!" She laughed cruelly.
Taylor stood up and blushed as she pulled her shorts and panties down, then lifted up her shirt. Once she was naked her arms immediately moved to cover up her breasts.
"Aw, is the little slave embarrassed about her tiny tits?"
Taylor cringed in humiliation as Katy mocked her. "Yes Goddess, I have pathetic tiny tits..." She admitted, hating how sincere it felt.
Katy giggled and pushed her breasts together. "It must have been so hard to think that we were equals, I mean how could you ever compare to me? Aren't you so much happier as my bitch-slave?"
Taylor wanted to roll her eyes and argue, but she was too afraid of another punishment. "Yes Goddess, I love being your bitch."
"Come here slave, let me give you a hug!" Katy said deviously. As Taylor stepped forward, Katy grabbed her by the hair and shoved the slave's face into her massive cleavage. "Enjoy being smothered by my big tits, bitch!"
For the first few seconds, Taylor did nothing other than feel pathetic. It was so humiliating to be smothered by her rival's famous tits, especially when she was so jealous of them. But once she started to have difficulty breathing, she moaned loudly and started flailing her arms. Katy just laughed as she easily kept Taylor's face in position. Just as Taylor felt she was going to pass out, Katy pulled her from her cleavage.
"Well bitch, are you going to thank me?" Katy said with a big smile.
Taylor coughed a few times as she tried to catch her breath. "Thank you for smothering me, Goddess."
Katy pulled her dress down enough to reveal her naked breasts completely. "If you really want to thank me you'll suck my tits!"
Taylor sighed and leaned her head back into Katy's chest. She started sucking and squeezing both of them. Taylor couldn't believe how jealous she felt.
"You know slave, I almost feel bad for you. Flat chest, flat ass, you look absolutely pathetic. I think I'm going to make you get some nice fake tits so you can look presentable in public, okay?"
Taylor moaned in disapproval, but didn't stop eagerly sucking Katy's tits.
Katy smiled as she slowly pulled Taylor's head off her tits. "You clearly love worshipping my superior tits. Maybe it's time you realized how amazing my ass is too!"
Taylor's eyes widened with fear. "Please Goddess, I'll do anything else for you, just don't make me lick you there..." She pleaded, imagining how unpleasant it would be.
Katy responded by getting on all fours on her bed and pulling her dress up, revealing her white panties. "Get up here and start kissing, and apologize for fucking hesitating!"
Taylor jumped onto the bed and started kissing Katy's panty-covered ass, still afraid of what was to come. "I'm sorry Goddess, your butt is perfect and I'm so jealous of it. Thank you for letting me kiss it."
"Lay down, slave. I want to hear you beg me to sit this perfect ass on your face!"
Taylor laid down and stared at her Goddess towering over her. She let out a sigh as she mentally prepared herself for another moment of humiliation. "Please Goddess, would you do me the honor of placing your beautiful ass on my ugly face? I want to smell your perfect sweat and have my face covered by something far more beautiful."
Katy let out a huge laugh, even she was surprised by how thoroughly her slave embarrassed herself. But to make it even worse, Katy pulled down her panties, revealing her sweaty ass. She then quickly obliged, placing her full weight on Taylor's face and wiggling her ass until Taylor's nose was lodged in her crack.
"It feels so good to finally do this. I've always wanted to use your ugly face as my seat and make you thank me for it!" Katy laughed as she bounced up and down on her slave's head.
Taylor moaned quietly as she began to breathe through her nose, taking it the horrible stench of Katy's sweaty, unwashed ass.
"That's a good girl, I want you to really absorb the smell of my ass. No matter how bad it gets, you breathe through your nose or I'll have to gag you!" Taylor responded with an unenthusiastic grunt. "Let me show you just how bad it can get..." Katy giggled as she let out a loud fart, directly into her slave's nose.
Taylor immediately panicked as the horrid smell entered her nose and overwhelmed her. She started slapping her Goddess's ass and squirming to get out from under her to no avail.
Katy sighed in disappointment as she farted again. "I really thought you were learning to be a good slave. If you had just sniffed up my gas and thanked me for it I might have even given you a reward. But if you're going to try to get away from it, I'm going to have to really show you your place..."

Katy sighed in disappointment as she climbed off her slave. Taylor started taking deep breaths, trying to get over the horrible stench of Katy's farts, but she was too afraid to try to get away again; instead, she obediently remained on the bed.
Katy picked up Taylor's discarded panties off the floor and brought them back to her. "You really need to learn that being my slave is so much easier when you do what I say," she said angrily as she grabbed her slave by the chin. "Open your fucking mouth!" She screamed.
Taylor started shaking with fear as she opened her mouth for her Goddess while trying to apologize.
"Too late, bitch." Katy spit directly into Taylor's mouth, then shoved the worn panties in there. "You could have just sniffed. Now you have no choice, and you have to taste your nasty fucking panties too!" Katy said as she grabbed a length of rope and started tying Taylor's arms to her sides once more.
Taylor screamed into her dirty gag and tried to resist being tied up, but she was too weak. Once she was bound again, Katy sat back down on her face.
"Hey, don't blame me for having such a gross gag, they're your panties after all!" She laughed, then let out a long, wet-sounding fart. "Ew, that one was really nasty, you better make sure I don't smell any of it!" Taylor could only respond with a pathetic moan.
"You really are a useless bitch, aren't you? You're not sniffing hard enough!" Katy started to pinch her slave's nipples, causing her to scream into her gag. "I don't care if it hurts, just do your fucking job!" She said, letting out another fart. Taylor started sniffing loudly, hoping it would make her Goddess stop torturing her.
Katy's head turned as she heard a knock on her door. "Miss Perry, you're scheduled to be on stage in about 30 minutes," said the female voice from outside.
Taylor yelled into the gag once more, hoping the person outside could hear, but to no avail, while Katy just laughed. "Don't be silly slave, she's my assistant. She's definitely not going to save you."
Katy stood up and untied her slave. "Now you're going to need to be a really good girl for me. If you do everything I tell you, and don't try to run away, this will be so much easier. Please don't make me punish you, okay?" She asked with a smile.
Taylor stared up at her captor with fear, but submissively nodded her head in agreement. Katy forced Taylor's mouth open, pulled out the saliva-soaked panties, then started rubbing them into her slave's hair. "Ew, these are so nasty!" She laughed. "Put them back on!"
Taylor got up and shamefully started to pull the sopping wet underwear up her legs as Katy got dressed in her flashy silver concert outfit.
"Goddess, do I really need to go out like this?" Taylor asked, feeling more embarrassed about being naked as Katy got fully dressed.
"Of course you do, slave. Don't ask any more dumb questions, alright? Now get on your knees and crawl after me!" Katy demanded as she quickly walked out of the bus, forcing her slave to hurry to keep up with her.
As soon as they exited the bus, the eyes of every crew member were on Taylor and her nearly naked body. None of them seemed concerned for her, in fact, some of them started snickering and taking pictures of the spectacle. She blushed and hung her head low as she pathetically crawled behind her Goddess, hoping not to attract attention.
But Katy had other plans. She abruptly stopped in her tracks and squatted down, her shiny silver panties almost in Taylor's face. "Show my crew what a good ass kisser you are, bitch!" She loudly announced.
This prompted even more laughter from the crew. Taylor could hardly believe that Katy would take it this far, but she knew it was too late to get out of this. Taylor puckered her lips and started planting kisses all over Katy's big ass. She could hear shocked gasps as the crowd realized just how badly Katy had broken her.
"Keep your phones recording, she can do much more than this!" Katy teased before farting in Taylor's face.
Taylor's face felt red hot, she couldn't even imagine a more embarrassing situation. It really did seem like the whole crew was recording her. And they were cheering for Katy, encouraging her abusive and torturous games.
She shoved her face deeper into Katy's ass and sniffed as hard as she could, until the nasty smell dissipated.
"Thank you Goddess Katy for your amazing fart," she said shamefully as everyone laughed.
"This is going to be the best concert ever!" Katy said as she set back to walking backstage.

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Mable's Poopy Discovery

Diane's Punishment


Diane was a very unhappy young lady. Here she was, eighteen years old, old enough to drive, and old enough to vote, yet in her parent's eyes, not old enough to stay home alone while they were away. It just wasn't fair. And the worst part was the "baby-sitter" who was staying with her: Aunt Jane.

Diane was more or less used to getting her own way. She was an only child, and, while she wasn't exactly spoiled, her father generally gave in to whatever she asked for. She had never gotten in any serious trouble, but had always been mischievous and liked to play practical jokes. She had really wanted to have the house to herself, and couldn't help thinking about the partying and fun she'd now be missing out on.

Diane really didn't know Aunt Jane very well. She was her father's youngest sister, who lived in California, but her father never talked much about her.

Until now she had never come to visit Diane's family, and Diane had never been to visit her. In fact the only times they had ever met were at family functions such as a cousin's wedding a few years ago. There had been only two or three such meetings, so really it was like being with a stranger in the house. Diane wasn't even sure why she was visiting now. Apparently she had some business to attend to in town for several days and needed a place to stay. Diane's parents had offered their home and had taken the opportunity to take some vacation time as long as she was there. They were going to be gone a whole week, which in this situation seemed like forever.

The first evening with Aunt Jane had not gone well. She had arrived late Friday afternoon, and Diane's parents had shown her around, left instructions and then taken off almost immediately. After that, Aunt Jane disappeared into the guest room until it was time to prepare dinner. The only remark Aunt Jane made during the meal was something about the way girls wore such short skirts nowadays, and how disgraceful it would have been when she was Diane's age. The two of them had eaten together in almost total silence after that, and when dinner was over, Diane had gone straight to her room where she sulked the rest of the night.

Aunt Jane even looked weird, Diane reflected. First of all, she was very small and thin. She dressed all in black and wore no makeup. She kept her sweater buttoned all the way to her throat and wore a tight leather skirt that came down past her knees. Her hair was pulled tightly into a bun behind her head, and she wore high black boots with pointed toes and three inch heels.

By the next day, however, Diane had decided that since there was nothing she could do to change the situation, she might as well try to make the best of it. First she showered and then proceeded to get dressed. She put on a loose sweater that wouldn't accentuate her rather large breasts. Then she wore one of her plainest, longest skirts, a plaid pleated one that still only came to about three inches above her knees. Underneath she had put on ordinary white cotton hip hugger briefs. Looking in the mirror, she thought she looked "presentable" enough.

When she got downstairs, Aunt Jane was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. She was dressed similar to the way she had been the evening before. Diane greeted her and started to make some small talk about school and some of the things she was doing. Surprisingly Aunt Jane responded and before long they were having a pleasant conversation leading to some stories about Aunt Jane's school days and her life out in California. The conversation continued through breakfast and by the time they had finished the dishes Diane was starting to think that her time with Aunt Jane might not turn out to be so horrible after all.

It was during the course of this conversation that Aunt Jane casually mentioned that today was her birthday. Diane felt badly that she hadn't known about it and hadn't had a chance to do something special. She started to say something about it, but Aunt Jane interrupted, telling her that nothing was necessary and then immediately changed the subject. Nevertheless, it remained in the back of Diane's mind, and a few minutes later, when the opportunity arose, Diane impulsively acted on it.

It happened when Aunt Jane got up and went to her purse to get some pictures to show Diane. The purse was sitting on a low table in front of the couch.

As Aunt Jane bent over, Diane rushed up to her, grabbed the bottom of her skirt and pulled it up over her hips exposing Aunt Jane's derriere. To her surprise, was encased in a heavy, white open bottom girdle. Underneath she had on white cotton full cut panty briefs. Diane also noticed several garters on each leg extending down from the girdle to the tops of her black stocking.

Diane hesitated a second, then began to administer a birthday spanking consisting of ten light slaps with her open hand applied quickly to the outside of the girdle, plus one for good luck.

Almost before Diane had finished, Aunt Jane straightened up and turned.

Pulling her skirt back down to its proper place, she exclaimed.

"YOUNG LADY!! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!"

Diane backed away immediately, shocked by this reaction.

"What manner is this in which to act toward your elders!" Aunt Jane went on, "Haven't your parents taught you any respect? I've never heard of such a thing before!"

"I..I..I'm sorry, Aunt Jane." Diane stammered, "It was just a little birthday spanking. We always do it to one another. I didn't mean any harm."

"Indeed!" Aunt Jane responded. "Well I find your behavior most inappropriate for a girl your age. I think it's clear that some discipline is in order."

Diane didn't like the sound of that. She had never been severely punished for anything before, not physically anyway. The tone of Aunt Jane's voice and her threatening looks were beginning to frighten Diane. However, what really scared her was when Aunt Jane marched out of the room and came back a few seconds later with a flat wooden paddle. It was about 18 inches long, 3 inches wide and about an inch thick with a handle at one end. It looked like it could really hurt when properly applied, and Diane's stomach was beginning to do flip-flops with fear. Although, Diane was physically larger than her aunt, there was something about her air of authority that was very intimidating.

"Oh please Aunt Jane," she pleaded. "Don't hit me with that. I promise I'll be good. I'll never do it again."

"Oh I'm sure you won't," Aunt Jane responded with an evil smile, as she slapped the paddle against her hand with a loud smack.

That was all it took. Diane's stomach knotted up. She was now truly terrified. Suddenly she became aware of a splashing sound on the rug and a feeling of warm wetness in the crotch of her panties and flowing down her legs. In fear she had totally lost control and was peeing right through her cotton panties. Even after she became aware of what she was doing, she was powerless to stop it, and for several seconds just stood there as the pee continued it's flow. She felt the spreading wetness as it crept up the front and back of her panties. As she realized that her skirt was about to get wet also, she quickly grabbed the hem and raised it above her waist, totally exposing her dripping panties to the now astonished Aunt Jane.

"OH MY HEAVENS!! YOU'RE PEEING YOUR PANTIES!! YOU NASTY GIRL!!" exclaimed Aunt Jane.

Diane was practically paralyzed in fear at this point and continued to wet herself until her bladder was entirely drained. At that time she dropped her skirt and just stood there watching to see what her aunt would do next.

"I can't believe it!! You peed right into your panties!! Your panties are totally soaked, not to mention the rug. This calls for severe punishment.

Come over here, missy, NOW!!"

As if in a trance, Diane did as she was told. "Please, Aunt Jane," she sobbed again. "Please don't paddle me. I didn't mean it. Please."

"Lay down across my lap, young lady." replied Aunt Jane sternly, as she seated herself on the couch.

Diane continued to sob, but she did as instructed. When she was properly situated, Aunt Jane grabbed her skirt and once again pulled it past her hips, exposing her wet panties which were now stretched tightly across her upraised, quivering bottom. Without another word, Aunt Jane brought the paddle down, striking her left cheek with a loud SMACK.

Actually, the first one didn't feel so bad. Neither did the next few as Aunt Jane alternated the strokes from one cheek to the other. Diane was beginning to think this form of punishment might not be so bad after all. However, as the blows continued, they began to sting more and more, until by the tenth one, she was squirming and once again begging Aunt Jane to stop. Aunt Jane continued steadily though.

SMACK. "Oh Aunt Jane, please stop!!" SMACK. "Ow. Oh please, no more!!"

SMACK. "OW!" SMACK. "OOHH!! PLEASE!!" SMACK. "OWW!!"

Aunt Jane didn't say a word, but kept paddling.

Each stroke was now like a red hot iron being applied to Diane's tender bottom. The wetness of her panties made it feel even worse. Still the paddling continued with Diane jumping and squirming with each stroke and pleading for her aunt to stop.

All at once, through the pain, another feeling became apparent to Diane. It was a warm, full feeling starting in the pit of her stomach and slowly creeping toward her rear. Diane now realized that in her fear and pain she was beginning to feel something stirring in her bowels.

"Aunt Jane, please wait. I have to use the bathroom."

Aunt Jane replied with well placed smack on the left cheek sending another fiery message to Diane's body. The pressure and rumbling inside grew stronger.

"You already did that, remember" Aunt Jane said, menacingly.

"Please Aunt Jane! Let me go! This time I have to poop!"

"Not so fast, young lady," she responded, "You're not going to get out of your punishment with that trick."

"But Aunt Jane, it's true. If I don't get to the bathroom soon, I'm going to mess myself."

The pressure was definitely building now, and Diane could feel it pushing against her anal opening. She just had to have some relief soon. Instead she felt another blow to her right cheek. How much longer could she hold on?

Two more blows followed, and Diane knew she couldn't last much longer.

"Aunt Jane, PLEASE!!!" she cried, "I'm going to poop my panties if you don't let me go NOW!!"

The response was another smack, even harder than the others. Diane jumped and the load in her bowels seemed to move even lower Now her rear was almost numb. As the next blow landed on her left cheek, she could feel her sphincter muscles failing, and she realized she just couldn't hold it in any longer. Now she could feel a warm, wet sensation up between her cheeks as her asshole expanded further.

"Ohhh, Aunt Jane, it's happening," she cried. "I'm pooping myself."

Sure enough she had totally lost control. She could feel her bowels starting to evacuate and the load begin to pass out through her now extended anal opening and into the seat of her panties. It felt very soft and loose and made a crackling sound as it passed through. As the poop contacted the cotton fabric it began to spread out, causing her panties to bulge and filling the cleft between her cheeks. The odor of fresh shit filled the air.

Aunt Jane had her paddle raised for another stroke when she realized what was happening.

"Oh my gosh! You ARE pooping your panties!! I can't believe it."

Diane was no longer making any attempt to hold back now and the huge, soft load continued to slide out ever faster into the seat of her panties. As her panties filled, because of her awkward position on Aunt Jane's lap, the poop moved downwards to fill the space between her thighs. It felt squishy and warm.

"Ohhh no. I'm doing it. I'm filling my panties with poop. Ohhh!!" Diane continued to sob.

"I can't believe it," repeated Aunt Jane. "You're doo-dooing your panties.

You're pooping yourself like a little girl. How can you do such a thing?"

Finally it was all out, and her anus slowly closed. Diane's panties now showed a large bulge in the seat and hung down between her legs. There was a wide dark stain forming as well. One of the elastic legs had been pulled away from her body and the brown mass was clearly visible through the opening. Diane just lay there, exhausted and embarrassed, not knowing what to do next.

Aunt Jane was still repeating over and over: "You doo-dooed yourself. You loaded your pants. I can't believe it. There's no excuse for this!"

Suddenly the paddle descended again even harder than before. It made contact with the load of poop, spreading it around even more, and flattening the bulge. Aunt Jane, practically out of control, continued her paddling repeating as she did each stroke, "There's no excuse for this. Pooping your panties like a child. Doo-dooing yourself. How disgusting. Anyone who does such a thing deserves to be punished."

Luckily for Diane, most of the blows were absorbed by the load of shit which acted like padding between her already tender cheeks and the paddle. However, her entire rear and thighs became totally smeared.

Finally, Aunt Jane put the paddle aside and Diane was allowed to get up.

Still sobbing she made her way to the bathroom, closed the door and turned to examine herself in the mirror. The seat of her panties was dark brown, and runny poop was leaking through the legs and down her thighs. As she removed her shitty panties a good part of the load came with them, but a lot remained smeared between her cheeks and even caught in her pussy hair. She could also see that both cheeks were now a bright red. Dropping her panties on the floor, she started the shower and climbed in to clean herself up.

She remained under the shower for a long time. When she got out she noticed her rear was still red and that it hurt even to touch it. She carefully put on some fresh clothes and headed for the laundry room with her soiled undies.

After rinsing them off in the tub, she started to place them in the hamper when she noticed something. There near the top was a pair of white cotton full cut briefs, identical to the ones Diane had seen on Aunt Jane when she gave her her birthday spanking. The only difference was that these had a large brown stain in the rear and fair amount of dried poop still present in the seat. Diane picked them up and examined them carefully. She was sure no one else in the house had panties like that.

With determination in her stride, and the panties dangling from her fingers, she marched back to the living room where her aunt was still seated on the couch reading.

"Oh Aunt Ja-a-ane," she called out with a lilt in her voice. "Guess what I-I-I found."

As Aunt Jane looked up and saw the pooped panties hanging in front of her, her eyes widened.

"Oh, uh-well, I can explain that-uh." She continued to stammer, "In the cab..on the way here. There was a delay..no place to go. I couldn't hold it. Just an accident. Could happen to anyone."

"That's odd," replied Diane, with determination in her voice. "I thought you told me there was no excuse for pooping your pants. I thought anyone who did that deserved to be punished. Right Aunt Jane?"

"Uh-yes. I know I said that...but-uh-this was different."

"Oh, I don't think so dear Aunt Jane." Diane replied sweetly.

Then before her aunt could react further, Diane was on the couch pulling the smaller woman by the shoulders across her lap. At the same time she grabbed the paddle and once again yanked up her aunt's skirt exposing her girdled derriere and elastic garters. This was to be no playful birthday spanking.

Pulling up on the bottom of the girdle, Diane administered a hard smack with the paddle across both upraised cheeks. Aunt Jane yelped and jumped, but Diane had a good hold with her other hand, and there was no escape. Again and again the paddle came down hard, until Aunt Jane was in tears, begging and pleading for her to stop, promising to do anything she asked. Diane realized that now she was in full control, and the feeling as she continued to administer punishment aroused her like nothing she had ever experienced before.

"Hmmm, You'll do anything, Aunt Jane?" she asked.

"Yes!! Yes!! Anything you want." Jane sobbed.

The feeling of dominance was like an aphrodisiac, and to Diane's astonishment, her pussy began to moisten and tingle.

"Well," Diane thought as the blows continued to land and she considered her aunt's pleas, "The next few days may turn out to be some fun after all."