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So this is a story my girlfriend wrote for me while we were together. Initially she had told me that she had never shit herself, but later I came to find this was not the case. She was an English major and had some of her work published so she was pretty good at writing and subsequently retelling this experience. Anyways I feel that's all the context it needs, so here you go:
It was midsummer 2011. I had just graduated earlier that month, and for graduation I’d received quite a nice sum of cash to blow on whatever I wanted. So we went to New York City. In the Big Apple I made a number of purchases, but one of my favorites by far was a pair of very feminine H&M baby blue lace panties.
Later the next month, I was sitting on my bed wearing just the blue panties and a pale yellow tank top, trying to cool off from the hot, sticky evening. It was about 9:00. In the summer, I get very tired early in the evening because of the heat. I also get sluggish. And lazy. And unmotivated to do even the simplest things. As I sat on my bed listening to music and fanning myself with a magazine, I felt an urging feeling in the bottom of my stomach. Brushing it off, I laid down onto my stomach and finished the song. Halfway into the next, the feeling came back, twisting my bowels into a little knot. I had to shit but it wasn’t such a strong urge that I felt motivated enough to get up and go to the bathroom. I experienced this feeling two more times in the next hour, and as I dozed off, I remembered I had to shit and that I should probably do that before I fell asleep completely. But as I said, Maryland summers make me lazy and that night was no exception. I threw a pillow at the light switch, turned over onto my side, pulled my legs up to my tummy and fell asleep.
Sometime during the night, I slipped into a dream. I was in a forest, surrounded on all sides by trees, wearing a flowing red dress. I was running from something, but I felt like I was going in circles. Every time I ran in a different direction, I would end up back in the clearing I started in. I turned around and found myself in a room and instead of being surrounded by trees, I was now facing a continuing round wall of doors. I ran to each door and pounded on them after finding, time and again, that they were locked. Something felt very wrong and I couldn’t place it. I was trapped and trying to run from something that I knew would catch up to me eventually. Then I realized all at once that there was nothing out to get me except my own body. The terrible thing I was running from was my own urge to shit. I began jerking the doorknobs of the locked doors and kicking them and pounding on them. I didn’t know what was behind them but I hoped for a bathroom or the woods again or anything really. I just didn’t want to be trapped in a room where I’d be forced to shit my panties. The pressing, looming sensation pushed onto my body and my dream self became more and more panicked. Then, I was shitting. My dream self screamed and cursed and cried as a warm log of shit pushed out of me. Halfway out of me, anyway.
And then I woke up. Thank god it was just a…. no. Are you fucking kidding me. What? I gently touched the seat of my panties where they had started to tent because the shit I had taken in the dream had actually been real. And it wasn’t over. I was in shock and disbelief. It was halfway out and I could feel that it was too far out to be pushed back inside of me. I swallowed hard. I hugged my knees to my chest and pushed. I could feel my ass open to allow the shit to be pushed out. There was no way in hell I was getting that shit back into my body. I covered my mouth with both my hands as I pushed and pushed and pushed. Harder and harder, whimpering. God no please please just be over please just stop already holy fucking shit how big is this? fuck fuck fuck. Answer…massive. And solid. In the still quiet of the night, with the AC kicked off, I could hear it leaving my body. It creaked like new ropes do when you first tie them into knots. I was shaking. The log pushed into my panties and fell out of me as the urge to push subsided. I laid there in the dark, thinking about the heinous thing I’d just done. Bad bad bad so bad. No. Wrong. Dirty. Disgusting. Awful. You child. You little fucking child you shit your pants goddammit why are you so lazy why couldn’t you have just shit last night when you fucking had the chance. Look at the mess. Look at. Feel it. I whimpered and placed my hand on my ass. The shit felt massive. So big, lying there in the seat of my baby blue H&M lace panties, just mocking my laziness. Mocking me. Reminding me that I was 17 fucking years old and I had just shit my panties like some stupid kid. I stared at the clock. 5am. I saw a sliver of sunrise peeking through my blinds. Dad would be up any moment. If I was going to clean it up I had to go now before he woke up and saw me in the hallway, holding a load of shit into the seat of my panties. I rolled out of bed, clutching my panties to my body. If I didn’t, they would be pulled down my legs by the massive shit that hung in them. I awkwardly walked out into the hallway and into the bathroom.
Staring at my shit in the bottom of my panties made another wave of self hatred wash over me. There it was—huge, dark, solid, still warm. A reminder of the horrible terrible thing I had forced myself to do. I had been trapped by my own body into doing something nightmarish—shitting my panties. I couldn’t handle it. I dumped the shit into the toilet and balled the panties up in toilet paper and buried them in the bottom of the trash can.
It was midsummer 2011. I had just graduated earlier that month, and for graduation I’d received quite a nice sum of cash to blow on whatever I wanted. So we went to New York City. In the Big Apple I made a number of purchases, but one of my favorites by far was a pair of very feminine H&M baby blue lace panties.
Later the next month, I was sitting on my bed wearing just the blue panties and a pale yellow tank top, trying to cool off from the hot, sticky evening. It was about 9:00. In the summer, I get very tired early in the evening because of the heat. I also get sluggish. And lazy. And unmotivated to do even the simplest things. As I sat on my bed listening to music and fanning myself with a magazine, I felt an urging feeling in the bottom of my stomach. Brushing it off, I laid down onto my stomach and finished the song. Halfway into the next, the feeling came back, twisting my bowels into a little knot. I had to shit but it wasn’t such a strong urge that I felt motivated enough to get up and go to the bathroom. I experienced this feeling two more times in the next hour, and as I dozed off, I remembered I had to shit and that I should probably do that before I fell asleep completely. But as I said, Maryland summers make me lazy and that night was no exception. I threw a pillow at the light switch, turned over onto my side, pulled my legs up to my tummy and fell asleep.
Sometime during the night, I slipped into a dream. I was in a forest, surrounded on all sides by trees, wearing a flowing red dress. I was running from something, but I felt like I was going in circles. Every time I ran in a different direction, I would end up back in the clearing I started in. I turned around and found myself in a room and instead of being surrounded by trees, I was now facing a continuing round wall of doors. I ran to each door and pounded on them after finding, time and again, that they were locked. Something felt very wrong and I couldn’t place it. I was trapped and trying to run from something that I knew would catch up to me eventually. Then I realized all at once that there was nothing out to get me except my own body. The terrible thing I was running from was my own urge to shit. I began jerking the doorknobs of the locked doors and kicking them and pounding on them. I didn’t know what was behind them but I hoped for a bathroom or the woods again or anything really. I just didn’t want to be trapped in a room where I’d be forced to shit my panties. The pressing, looming sensation pushed onto my body and my dream self became more and more panicked. Then, I was shitting. My dream self screamed and cursed and cried as a warm log of shit pushed out of me. Halfway out of me, anyway.
And then I woke up. Thank god it was just a…. no. Are you fucking kidding me. What? I gently touched the seat of my panties where they had started to tent because the shit I had taken in the dream had actually been real. And it wasn’t over. I was in shock and disbelief. It was halfway out and I could feel that it was too far out to be pushed back inside of me. I swallowed hard. I hugged my knees to my chest and pushed. I could feel my ass open to allow the shit to be pushed out. There was no way in hell I was getting that shit back into my body. I covered my mouth with both my hands as I pushed and pushed and pushed. Harder and harder, whimpering. God no please please just be over please just stop already holy fucking shit how big is this? fuck fuck fuck. Answer…massive. And solid. In the still quiet of the night, with the AC kicked off, I could hear it leaving my body. It creaked like new ropes do when you first tie them into knots. I was shaking. The log pushed into my panties and fell out of me as the urge to push subsided. I laid there in the dark, thinking about the heinous thing I’d just done. Bad bad bad so bad. No. Wrong. Dirty. Disgusting. Awful. You child. You little fucking child you shit your pants goddammit why are you so lazy why couldn’t you have just shit last night when you fucking had the chance. Look at the mess. Look at. Feel it. I whimpered and placed my hand on my ass. The shit felt massive. So big, lying there in the seat of my baby blue H&M lace panties, just mocking my laziness. Mocking me. Reminding me that I was 17 fucking years old and I had just shit my panties like some stupid kid. I stared at the clock. 5am. I saw a sliver of sunrise peeking through my blinds. Dad would be up any moment. If I was going to clean it up I had to go now before he woke up and saw me in the hallway, holding a load of shit into the seat of my panties. I rolled out of bed, clutching my panties to my body. If I didn’t, they would be pulled down my legs by the massive shit that hung in them. I awkwardly walked out into the hallway and into the bathroom.
Staring at my shit in the bottom of my panties made another wave of self hatred wash over me. There it was—huge, dark, solid, still warm. A reminder of the horrible terrible thing I had forced myself to do. I had been trapped by my own body into doing something nightmarish—shitting my panties. I couldn’t handle it. I dumped the shit into the toilet and balled the panties up in toilet paper and buried them in the bottom of the trash can.