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Story: Andrea's Sleeping Aid
This is my first attempt at writing pantypoop fiction. Tell me if you'd like any more.
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Andrea was an insomniac who was going to the doctor to help cure her problem. Every night she lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, waiting and wondering. She had enough of it, and she needed a sleep aid. Her doctor prescribed to her an experimental medication several days ago, but warned her of the side effects.
"Something about sleep paralysis, nightmares, blah, blah blah." Andrea was on the phone with her mother. "It doesn't really matter at this point, I just want to fall asleep."
"Be careful, sweetie. I know that you think you need these, but you shouldn't rush into this without understanding what you're getting yourself into."
"Don't worry, mom, I'm fine." She leaned against the fridge. "Yes. Really." Next to the kitchen sink was the bottle of pills. Andrea bent over and examined it. "Alright, mom. I've gotta get going now. Bye. Love you, too." She hung up the phone and brought the pill bottle closer to her face. "Side effects include... This is just a bunch of medical junk. I've never even heard of anyone dying from this kind of stuff, anyway." She unscrewed the bottle and took two pills.
Andrea changed out of her day clothes and into her nightware, a pair of white cotton panties and a white tanktop. She was just above five feet tall, ridiculed by all of her friends for being so short. Her auburn hair fell just below her shoulders. Andrea was never the most popular or good looking girl in her high school. Her breasts were a little too large for her torso; her butt was a little too flat. Her nose pointed only a little, but it was just enough for others to notice. Her big, blue eyes were made bigger by the thick glasses she had to wear. Without them, she was blind as a bat. Even still, when she wore that tight black dress at her junior prom, she looked good.
She sighed and sat down on her bed. She could feel the pills already taking effect. It wouldn't be long before she drifted off to sleep.
She woke up in total darkness. Her head thrusted forward and her body sprang upright in bed. She threw on her glasses and checked the clock. It was just past four in the morning.
"Bad dream," she said, panicked, her eyes wide open. She sat in bed, panting, for a few more moments before a second realization dawned on her: what's that smell?
"Oh my god, I shit my pants." Her voice barely changed inflection. She stayed upright, trying to guage the damage without moving. The mess was firm, not diarrhea, but not uncomfortably hard. It was nestled right at the bottom of her butt, not flattened out of shape too badly. She stood up on her bed and stepped off. As she did, she felt the load sag behind her, her warm, shit-filled panties droop down and press against the backs of her legs. With every step, the brush of warm, damp, cloth reminded her of what she'd done in her sleep.
"Oh god, I'm an adult. I shouldn't be shitting my pants. I should be able to wake up before things like this happen," she said. "There's no excuse! I'm not sick, this shouldn't be happening!"
She reached the bathroom mirror and looked at the round, brown load in her once-white, cotton panties. It stuck out about the size of a softball. She examined it for a few moments and cupped her hand around it. "Disgusting." She began pulling off her tanktop when a sensation hit her. It felt like she was being punched in the stomach by a gorilla. Without so much as a battle, more solid poop shot into her panties, sliding out of her ass and filling them to maximum capacity.
"Jesus Christ!" She stared at the huge load, her tanktop still halfway off. She hastily yanked her top off, eager to remove herself from her own shit. Her glasses went flying with the shirt, leaving her nearly blind. She took a step forward towards her shower but misjudged how far she had to go. She tripped on the ledge and wobbled back and forth in the air for a few seconds before falling backwards into the pile of her mess. The poop spread itself around her entire ass and crotch. She looked back up at the shower, as if pleading with it to clean her.
Just then, her eyelids felt as though they'd become a million pounds each, and she struggled only briefly to keep them open. Her head fell backwards onto a pile of dirty clothes. "The pills," she began, her voice a slurred mess. She desperately reached one arm up into the air, but it was no use. She fell back asleep, and her arm slammed down onto her chest.
It was the best sleep she'd had in months.
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Andrea was an insomniac who was going to the doctor to help cure her problem. Every night she lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, waiting and wondering. She had enough of it, and she needed a sleep aid. Her doctor prescribed to her an experimental medication several days ago, but warned her of the side effects.
"Something about sleep paralysis, nightmares, blah, blah blah." Andrea was on the phone with her mother. "It doesn't really matter at this point, I just want to fall asleep."
"Be careful, sweetie. I know that you think you need these, but you shouldn't rush into this without understanding what you're getting yourself into."
"Don't worry, mom, I'm fine." She leaned against the fridge. "Yes. Really." Next to the kitchen sink was the bottle of pills. Andrea bent over and examined it. "Alright, mom. I've gotta get going now. Bye. Love you, too." She hung up the phone and brought the pill bottle closer to her face. "Side effects include... This is just a bunch of medical junk. I've never even heard of anyone dying from this kind of stuff, anyway." She unscrewed the bottle and took two pills.
Andrea changed out of her day clothes and into her nightware, a pair of white cotton panties and a white tanktop. She was just above five feet tall, ridiculed by all of her friends for being so short. Her auburn hair fell just below her shoulders. Andrea was never the most popular or good looking girl in her high school. Her breasts were a little too large for her torso; her butt was a little too flat. Her nose pointed only a little, but it was just enough for others to notice. Her big, blue eyes were made bigger by the thick glasses she had to wear. Without them, she was blind as a bat. Even still, when she wore that tight black dress at her junior prom, she looked good.
She sighed and sat down on her bed. She could feel the pills already taking effect. It wouldn't be long before she drifted off to sleep.
She woke up in total darkness. Her head thrusted forward and her body sprang upright in bed. She threw on her glasses and checked the clock. It was just past four in the morning.
"Bad dream," she said, panicked, her eyes wide open. She sat in bed, panting, for a few more moments before a second realization dawned on her: what's that smell?
"Oh my god, I shit my pants." Her voice barely changed inflection. She stayed upright, trying to guage the damage without moving. The mess was firm, not diarrhea, but not uncomfortably hard. It was nestled right at the bottom of her butt, not flattened out of shape too badly. She stood up on her bed and stepped off. As she did, she felt the load sag behind her, her warm, shit-filled panties droop down and press against the backs of her legs. With every step, the brush of warm, damp, cloth reminded her of what she'd done in her sleep.
"Oh god, I'm an adult. I shouldn't be shitting my pants. I should be able to wake up before things like this happen," she said. "There's no excuse! I'm not sick, this shouldn't be happening!"
She reached the bathroom mirror and looked at the round, brown load in her once-white, cotton panties. It stuck out about the size of a softball. She examined it for a few moments and cupped her hand around it. "Disgusting." She began pulling off her tanktop when a sensation hit her. It felt like she was being punched in the stomach by a gorilla. Without so much as a battle, more solid poop shot into her panties, sliding out of her ass and filling them to maximum capacity.
"Jesus Christ!" She stared at the huge load, her tanktop still halfway off. She hastily yanked her top off, eager to remove herself from her own shit. Her glasses went flying with the shirt, leaving her nearly blind. She took a step forward towards her shower but misjudged how far she had to go. She tripped on the ledge and wobbled back and forth in the air for a few seconds before falling backwards into the pile of her mess. The poop spread itself around her entire ass and crotch. She looked back up at the shower, as if pleading with it to clean her.
Just then, her eyelids felt as though they'd become a million pounds each, and she struggled only briefly to keep them open. Her head fell backwards onto a pile of dirty clothes. "The pills," she began, her voice a slurred mess. She desperately reached one arm up into the air, but it was no use. She fell back asleep, and her arm slammed down onto her chest.
It was the best sleep she'd had in months.
Pretty girl. Thanks.
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