Tweet
Since no one ever responded to this thread
http://www.wetset.net/forums/showthread.php?t=925
I decided to give my idea of the ideal panty-pooping story another spin. Please be gentle in the comments, as this is not my mother tongue.
Should I continue? And How?
Molly was one of a kind. With her perfect proportions at 5'5'' and 110lbs she often faced the problem of many pretty girls: As she could eat like a miner, but never seemed to gain any weight, almost everybody assumed, she had an eating disorder. You could notice the people sticking their heads together and whispering, everytime she went on a dinner and loaded up her second and third disk with high caloric fancy feast. But her open minded and hearty character didn't have to cope with the psychological stress of anorexia or something; all she did was working out a bit - though nothing of the like what would give her manly muscles in the wrong places - riding her horse on her fathers ranch and having the high metabolism of a young twenty-something. Her stunning looks where completed by her shoulder-length, soft, ash blond hair, which was regularly honed with highlights by a gifted, but expencieve-as-hell coiffeur.
You could easily tell, that John, her friend, who was one years older, had hit the jackpot when he managed to get her to like him. They met in summer, at a local barbecue. John had just arrived and was strolling around searching for the beer bar, when he saw Molly. Noshing the last grains of a giant, buttery corn cob while striking out that bugging streak of hair out of her face with her last, non-filthy finger - i think you get the picture - she was sitting alone at a table.
"May I help you?", he asked, handing her over a napking out out the dispenser.
"Sure, thanks a lot!"
After not very long, they became a pair, and the first glance of their relationship, with him being the helpful, fatherly type, somewhat stayed in their attitude towards each other. Molly was always happy with John giving the instructions of how things would be done, and John was happy to live out what he thought was being a gentlemen to his girl, albeit knowing that fulfilling her wiches and desires was always the underlying goal of his calling-the-shots-demeanor.
In fall, they went to a touristic trip to the big apple, where they both had been only as childs. It was their first trip together. They had not moved in together yet, so it was also their first chance of living together in an appartment of their own for some time. John had organized the entire trip, booked the abode and the tours, and had searched out entertaining evening programs and clubs for every day.
Upon the beginning of their week in the city, John fatched Molly at fathers ranch, where she still lived. He went upstairs to discover her luggage in her empty room.
"Where are you, honey? Everything packed and ready to go?"
"Just a minute, sweetheart, I'm on the loo." her muffled voice chimed out of the bathroom across the hallway.
John was not surprised by this openess about bodily functions. After a row of straightlaced partners each, they both we're happy to keep things easy and talk about such things. And believe it or not, Molly hadn't even freaked out, when John had opened to her, that he was into some weird fantasies involving those functions. All she did then was kiss him, saying, that she would have to think about it, and giving him head. Alas, this discussion had never come up again since. John did not mention it again, in fear of destroying the wonderful relationship and the breathtaking sexytimes they had, by building up to much pressure or something.
"All done?" he asked her, as she got out.
"Yeah - no. I think, I didn't have to go. Let's get on the plane, now!" She responded, with a puzzled look in her face.
They had a blast in New York. Every day, they discovered new places, new food, new forms of entertainment. On their fourth day, John had planned a touristic ferry ride around the statue of liberty. Though late August, the weather forecast promised it to be a hot, summery day. John packed his backpack for him and Molly with water and other stuff, but, being a former boyscout, didn't forget to reprimand his girl to bring her sweatshirt for him to pack, just in case.
Molly left him packing and assembling the camera and headed of to the bathroom. After a while, John was ready to go long since, he knocked on the bathroom door.
"Everything ok, in there!?" Out came a sigh, and after that, in a trembling tone:
"Ahem, I think, it's not that big of a problem, but ..."
"What's the matter, honey?"
The flush went, the door opened, and out came Molly, dressed up in low, red chucks, Jeans and a cute "I *heart* NY" T-shirt.
"Nothing, John, I just didn't have a bm since four days now and feel a little bit blocked up, ya know?"
"Do you want to stay inside and wait for it, my love?"
"No, i wanna ride the ferry!" Molly pouted her lips.
They both really enjoyed this little game of her pretending to be a bit childish and played along every time. This in mind, John began to speach as if he was giving her a ticking-off.
"You know, young lady, being constipated that long is not healthy at all, and less than ever with all the food we ate the last days! You're father is a doctor, you should really know better. Albeit, he briefed me a bit about your bathroom manners before the trip. Of course, I already guessed what your frequent trips to every other bathroom had for reason, because he told me, that you have problems letting go of yourself in a foreign environment. Therefore he equiped me with this referral to his former college friend Murray, practising here in the city in Lenox Hill Hospital, to give you a supervised enema, if you happen to have problems with that!"
"Ewwww, I don't want that. I'd rather poop myself, than having an enema given to me by uncle Murray!"
"But I think, you are not able to poop, at all, Honey?" John had reverted from the father-figure to his usual boyfriend-kind-of-voice.
"No, it's not so, dear. The urge really hit me every other time the last days, but everytime i reached the toilet, it was either disgustingly dirty or the urge had ceased."
"Oh ok. I understand. And now you don't feel any urge, right?"
"Exactly."
"So don't panic, then. Perhaps you can go on the ferry. We should really hit of now, otherwise we could miss the trip. We can go to uncle Murray, as you call him, in the evening, if you still don't feel well then!"
So off they went, and tried to have a good time. John noticed, that Molly clearly was in distress now, her skin color seemed even more pale than else. After the ride in a badly air-conditioned bus to the ferry terminal, he observed, that she was sweating a bit, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Everything allright, Molly?"
"I really don't want to go to uncle Murray this evening, John. On the bus, the urge to go hit me again, but I wanted to wait for the toilets on the boat. I really feel uncomfortable, now."
"It's allright, honey. Just go on the ferry, and everything will be fine." John said, and gave her a hug.
Many people boarded the boat. Molly and John managed to get a good place to stand at the guard rail. Shortly after the boat had casted off, Molly left, in order to search the bathroom. Moments later she came back, but with a horrified look on her face.
"OMG - there is already a gigantic line in front of them!" Molly hissed out.
"And, what about the urge, went away again?"
"Yes, I think i will never get this done." Molly was in real discomfort now, with the last words she already sobbed a bit.
"Come on over, babe!" John hugged her and led her to the guard rail, on which she held on with her hands, facing the water. John position himself right behind her, petting her hands with his, and giving her kisses behind her ear.
"Molly, just stay here and relax. And when you need to go potty, just let it go. I really think, this would be the best solution for your problem."
"You mean, I should poop myself, right here on a boat with hundreds of people? Yeah, I knew, you would like that situation, but I didn't think, that you would be a real pervert!" Also trying to appear shocked by the idea, she couldn't but smile by the last words she said to her boyfriend. And after that, she whispered to him:
"I noticed, that you are pressing a massive boner against my bum. You really must love this sort of thing, do you?" John guilty nodded.
They stood there for a while and said nothing. They passed Liberty Island and from the water a cool and salty breeze hit them, giving them compensation for the exhausting bus ride.
Then John sensed Molly hands clenching the rail harder. Also her body seemed to stiffen all along.
"It's coming, isn't it?" he whispered.
"Uh-huh. Oh gawd." Molly tried to leave the spot and rush for the loo, but John softly held her in place.
"Stay, honey, you now it's best for you."
"Oo-key." Molly drawled. She was breathing now in sharp, light hisses, her mouth yaw agape. Sweating again, but this time cold and exhausted, one of her hairstreaks clung to her pale cheek. John caressed her face, to help her ease out. Then, he could here a healthy, but due to her rather tight jeans, muffled fart emerge from her bum.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOING THIS. IT'S COMING OUT!" Molly whispered loudly. For the first moments, Molly didn't even had to push. She just caved in to the urge to shit, and relaxed. Her buttcheeks opened, she farted and the most massive and hard log of poo she ever passed slowly emerged out of her anus. When it hit her pale pink, full cut panty bottom and tented it out a bit, it stopped, while still holding her anus opened to a maximum. Molly sighed anxiously.
"What's the matter, pumpkin? Everything going well down there?"
"IT STOPPED, JOHN!"
"Well, then you will have to push a bit, honey." John again had his fatherly voice set up.
Molly clenched her hands even harder to rail, and, leaning to John, bending her knees slightly.
"I still can't believe it." whispered Molly, followed by a gentle grunt, then pushing with her abdomen furiously.
John now heard a hissing sound. Molly was peeing herself.
"Don't panic, honey, just press it all out! We don't have to go to uncle Murray."
"Uh-huh, daddy." Molly whispered coyly.
http://www.wetset.net/forums/showthread.php?t=925
I decided to give my idea of the ideal panty-pooping story another spin. Please be gentle in the comments, as this is not my mother tongue.
Should I continue? And How?
Molly was one of a kind. With her perfect proportions at 5'5'' and 110lbs she often faced the problem of many pretty girls: As she could eat like a miner, but never seemed to gain any weight, almost everybody assumed, she had an eating disorder. You could notice the people sticking their heads together and whispering, everytime she went on a dinner and loaded up her second and third disk with high caloric fancy feast. But her open minded and hearty character didn't have to cope with the psychological stress of anorexia or something; all she did was working out a bit - though nothing of the like what would give her manly muscles in the wrong places - riding her horse on her fathers ranch and having the high metabolism of a young twenty-something. Her stunning looks where completed by her shoulder-length, soft, ash blond hair, which was regularly honed with highlights by a gifted, but expencieve-as-hell coiffeur.
You could easily tell, that John, her friend, who was one years older, had hit the jackpot when he managed to get her to like him. They met in summer, at a local barbecue. John had just arrived and was strolling around searching for the beer bar, when he saw Molly. Noshing the last grains of a giant, buttery corn cob while striking out that bugging streak of hair out of her face with her last, non-filthy finger - i think you get the picture - she was sitting alone at a table.
"May I help you?", he asked, handing her over a napking out out the dispenser.
"Sure, thanks a lot!"
After not very long, they became a pair, and the first glance of their relationship, with him being the helpful, fatherly type, somewhat stayed in their attitude towards each other. Molly was always happy with John giving the instructions of how things would be done, and John was happy to live out what he thought was being a gentlemen to his girl, albeit knowing that fulfilling her wiches and desires was always the underlying goal of his calling-the-shots-demeanor.
In fall, they went to a touristic trip to the big apple, where they both had been only as childs. It was their first trip together. They had not moved in together yet, so it was also their first chance of living together in an appartment of their own for some time. John had organized the entire trip, booked the abode and the tours, and had searched out entertaining evening programs and clubs for every day.
Upon the beginning of their week in the city, John fatched Molly at fathers ranch, where she still lived. He went upstairs to discover her luggage in her empty room.
"Where are you, honey? Everything packed and ready to go?"
"Just a minute, sweetheart, I'm on the loo." her muffled voice chimed out of the bathroom across the hallway.
John was not surprised by this openess about bodily functions. After a row of straightlaced partners each, they both we're happy to keep things easy and talk about such things. And believe it or not, Molly hadn't even freaked out, when John had opened to her, that he was into some weird fantasies involving those functions. All she did then was kiss him, saying, that she would have to think about it, and giving him head. Alas, this discussion had never come up again since. John did not mention it again, in fear of destroying the wonderful relationship and the breathtaking sexytimes they had, by building up to much pressure or something.
"All done?" he asked her, as she got out.
"Yeah - no. I think, I didn't have to go. Let's get on the plane, now!" She responded, with a puzzled look in her face.
They had a blast in New York. Every day, they discovered new places, new food, new forms of entertainment. On their fourth day, John had planned a touristic ferry ride around the statue of liberty. Though late August, the weather forecast promised it to be a hot, summery day. John packed his backpack for him and Molly with water and other stuff, but, being a former boyscout, didn't forget to reprimand his girl to bring her sweatshirt for him to pack, just in case.
Molly left him packing and assembling the camera and headed of to the bathroom. After a while, John was ready to go long since, he knocked on the bathroom door.
"Everything ok, in there!?" Out came a sigh, and after that, in a trembling tone:
"Ahem, I think, it's not that big of a problem, but ..."
"What's the matter, honey?"
The flush went, the door opened, and out came Molly, dressed up in low, red chucks, Jeans and a cute "I *heart* NY" T-shirt.
"Nothing, John, I just didn't have a bm since four days now and feel a little bit blocked up, ya know?"
"Do you want to stay inside and wait for it, my love?"
"No, i wanna ride the ferry!" Molly pouted her lips.
They both really enjoyed this little game of her pretending to be a bit childish and played along every time. This in mind, John began to speach as if he was giving her a ticking-off.
"You know, young lady, being constipated that long is not healthy at all, and less than ever with all the food we ate the last days! You're father is a doctor, you should really know better. Albeit, he briefed me a bit about your bathroom manners before the trip. Of course, I already guessed what your frequent trips to every other bathroom had for reason, because he told me, that you have problems letting go of yourself in a foreign environment. Therefore he equiped me with this referral to his former college friend Murray, practising here in the city in Lenox Hill Hospital, to give you a supervised enema, if you happen to have problems with that!"
"Ewwww, I don't want that. I'd rather poop myself, than having an enema given to me by uncle Murray!"
"But I think, you are not able to poop, at all, Honey?" John had reverted from the father-figure to his usual boyfriend-kind-of-voice.
"No, it's not so, dear. The urge really hit me every other time the last days, but everytime i reached the toilet, it was either disgustingly dirty or the urge had ceased."
"Oh ok. I understand. And now you don't feel any urge, right?"
"Exactly."
"So don't panic, then. Perhaps you can go on the ferry. We should really hit of now, otherwise we could miss the trip. We can go to uncle Murray, as you call him, in the evening, if you still don't feel well then!"
So off they went, and tried to have a good time. John noticed, that Molly clearly was in distress now, her skin color seemed even more pale than else. After the ride in a badly air-conditioned bus to the ferry terminal, he observed, that she was sweating a bit, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Everything allright, Molly?"
"I really don't want to go to uncle Murray this evening, John. On the bus, the urge to go hit me again, but I wanted to wait for the toilets on the boat. I really feel uncomfortable, now."
"It's allright, honey. Just go on the ferry, and everything will be fine." John said, and gave her a hug.
Many people boarded the boat. Molly and John managed to get a good place to stand at the guard rail. Shortly after the boat had casted off, Molly left, in order to search the bathroom. Moments later she came back, but with a horrified look on her face.
"OMG - there is already a gigantic line in front of them!" Molly hissed out.
"And, what about the urge, went away again?"
"Yes, I think i will never get this done." Molly was in real discomfort now, with the last words she already sobbed a bit.
"Come on over, babe!" John hugged her and led her to the guard rail, on which she held on with her hands, facing the water. John position himself right behind her, petting her hands with his, and giving her kisses behind her ear.
"Molly, just stay here and relax. And when you need to go potty, just let it go. I really think, this would be the best solution for your problem."
"You mean, I should poop myself, right here on a boat with hundreds of people? Yeah, I knew, you would like that situation, but I didn't think, that you would be a real pervert!" Also trying to appear shocked by the idea, she couldn't but smile by the last words she said to her boyfriend. And after that, she whispered to him:
"I noticed, that you are pressing a massive boner against my bum. You really must love this sort of thing, do you?" John guilty nodded.
They stood there for a while and said nothing. They passed Liberty Island and from the water a cool and salty breeze hit them, giving them compensation for the exhausting bus ride.
Then John sensed Molly hands clenching the rail harder. Also her body seemed to stiffen all along.
"It's coming, isn't it?" he whispered.
"Uh-huh. Oh gawd." Molly tried to leave the spot and rush for the loo, but John softly held her in place.
"Stay, honey, you now it's best for you."
"Oo-key." Molly drawled. She was breathing now in sharp, light hisses, her mouth yaw agape. Sweating again, but this time cold and exhausted, one of her hairstreaks clung to her pale cheek. John caressed her face, to help her ease out. Then, he could here a healthy, but due to her rather tight jeans, muffled fart emerge from her bum.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOING THIS. IT'S COMING OUT!" Molly whispered loudly. For the first moments, Molly didn't even had to push. She just caved in to the urge to shit, and relaxed. Her buttcheeks opened, she farted and the most massive and hard log of poo she ever passed slowly emerged out of her anus. When it hit her pale pink, full cut panty bottom and tented it out a bit, it stopped, while still holding her anus opened to a maximum. Molly sighed anxiously.
"What's the matter, pumpkin? Everything going well down there?"
"IT STOPPED, JOHN!"
"Well, then you will have to push a bit, honey." John again had his fatherly voice set up.
Molly clenched her hands even harder to rail, and, leaning to John, bending her knees slightly.
"I still can't believe it." whispered Molly, followed by a gentle grunt, then pushing with her abdomen furiously.
John now heard a hissing sound. Molly was peeing herself.
"Don't panic, honey, just press it all out! We don't have to go to uncle Murray."
"Uh-huh, daddy." Molly whispered coyly.
Keep it going. Thanks
Comment