They were met at the train station by a taxi driver who had been sent to meet them. Anna had by this time put her dress back on, as well as her panties which were, of course, still full of poo. The driver did not seem to mind, however; he had been well paid for this job.
At the hotel they were met by none other than the manager himself, who gave a convincing impression of someone who had completely failed to notice that one of his guests was dressed extremely provocatively and smelled of poo. He smiled and welcomed them to the hotel, then he got a porter to take their luggage up to the room. He led them to the lifts, describing for them the hotel’s manifold facilities as they went.
“…and there’s a swimming pool on the Lower Ground floor,” he said. “Loch Ness is quite close too, of course, but you’ll find the swimming pool warmer – and of course it has no monsters.”
Anna laughed politely at his jest, while Robert merely stared around at the pictures on the walls. In the lift, the manager stopped talking so that he could hold his breath. Fortunately they were only going up to the third floor. As the doors opened, the manager stepped out and resumed his commentary. “The rooms have digital television – you’ll find a guide to what’s on beside the bed although there’s a good on-screen guide which one of the staff will explain to you if you don’t know how to use it.” He stopped outside a room and opened the door with a key which he then gave to Anna.
“I hope your room is satisfactory,” he said. “If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. The bell by the side of the bed will have room service running as fast as their legs can carry them.”
Anna smiled. “Thank you very much,” she said. “You’re very kind.”
The manager lowered his voice. “Whatever you need, please just ask. I want your stay here to be perfect. Anything at all.”
“I just have a question,” said Anna.
“Ask away!”
“You seem very untroubled by the fact that … I smell rather bad. Aren’t you worried about your other guests complaining…?”
“Not at all!” replied the manager with a false laugh. “I’m just hoping you have a really good time here.”
“Jeez, Gerald must have really put the fear of God into you, huh?” remarked Anna wryly.
“Don’t tell him I gave you that impression!” he pleaded, sotto voce.
“Relax,” said Anna. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. Well, I’ll try not to put off too many of your other guests, and if we do enjoy our stay, I’ll make sure Gerald knows you did a good job.”
The manager looked a little taken aback. Then he recovered himself. “Thank you,” he said. “I won’t let you … or Gerald … down.” With that he departed.
Just then, the porter arrived with the suitcases. “Just put them down on the bed,” said Anna. She followed him, and opened up her case once it had been set down. Her purse was in the top, and she retrieved a ten pound note. “Here you go,” she said.
“Oh no Madam,” said the porter, shaking his head. “I’ve got instructions not to accept any tips from you. It’s all taken care of.”
“Oh! I see. Thank you, then,” said Anna. The porter left.
Anna sat down on the bed, her poo squishing slightly beneath her. “Well, it’s been a busy day,” she said. “Shall we take an early night?”
“Okay,” said Robert, and he began to undress.
After they had had sex, and brushed their teeth, and Anna had removed her make-up, they climbed back into bed together. Robert insisted that Anna put her poo-filled panties back on so that she could sleep in them, and Anna was too tired to argue.
The next morning, Anna got up and opened up her suitcase to find an outfit for the day. Barbara had packed for her, so of course there was nothing in the case except skimpy clothing. There were several pairs of panties, but no bras, so Anna simply threw on a loose purple minidress which, she discovered, did not quite fully cover her panties. “What the hell,” she thought to herself, and prepared to remove her panties.
“I assume it’s okay to take these off now?” she inquired.
Robert looked up from the bed with bleary eyes. “No, keep them on,” he said.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” she sighed. “Robert, the poo in these panties is kind of hard now. Look!” She lowered her panties and took out her poo, which was flattened to about half an inch thick and moulded in the shape of her buttocks. It was flexible and yielded to the touch, but it was not squishy any more. “It’s dried out, Robert.”
“Can’t you wet it, then?” asked Robert.
“What, re-moisturise it?” Anna looked at the poo doubtfully. “I could try … but it’ll take a little while. I’ll put some warm water in the basin and dunk it in. By mid-morning it should have softened a bit.” Or totally disintegrated, she hoped silently.
Breakfast was delivered, and Anna ate heartily. Afterwards she checked on the poo in the basin – it was still rigid, but the surface had softened and bits were peeling off to float about in the water. “Right,” she said to Robert. “I’m going to take a shower. My bottom is getting rather itchy.”
“Okay,” said Robert, and he got out his Nintendo.
Anna felt much refreshed after the shower, and she put on a clean pair of panties as well as the purple minidress. For the first time in ages, it seemed, she was clean. “Come on,” she said. “We need to get out of here so that the hotel staff can make the bed and clean and stuff.”
“What are we doing today?” asked Robert.
“Well, I thought we might check out Loch Ness,” said Anna. “See if we can see Nessie.”
“Ooh!” exclaimed Robert. “Yes let’s! I’d love to see Nessie!”
Anna chuckled. “Okay, well it’s quite close so we might as well walk.”
Robert nodded and got to his feet. “Poo first though,” he said.
“You need to go to the loo?”
“No – you need to poo in your panties,” he corrected her.
Anna’s heart sank. “But I just got clean!”
Robert shrugged, and Anna sighed.
“Oh very well,” she said, and she began to strain. Despite having practically emptied her bowels yesterday afternoon, she managed a nine-inch soft turd which formed a prominent bulge in the back of her panties – highly visible to anyone they met, since even the top of the bulge was beneath the hem of her dress. Anna felt it gingerly with her hand, then sighed. “Let’s go then.”
They had a relaxing day walking through the woods around the loch, although Anna tired quickly on account of her condition. When they returned to the hotel in the middle of the afternoon, one of the first things Anna did was check on the state of the poo she had left in the basin. She hoped the staff had disposed of it. However, this was not to be. The water was now a murky brown, and a cautious probe with her fingers told her the poo was still there, though it was now very soft indeed. In fact it was barely more than mush, and Anna decided that if she pulled the plug, it would probably all disappear down the drain.
However, she felt a strange reluctance to see it go. After contemplating the matter for a moment, she fetched a couple of paper towels, folded them once, and placed them over the plug-hole. Then she removed the plug. The water began to drain slowly away, and as the level dropped, the poo subsided and slid towards the hole. But since it could not pass through the paper, it merely settled in a soggy, shapeless mass. Anna fetched from her bedside table the newspaper the hotel had thoughtfully left for them, and spread it out on the floor of the bathroom. Then she began to scoop the poo out of the basin with her hands, dumping it in the middle of the newspaper. Hopefully, she reasoned, the paper would soak up some of the excess water.
And so it proved. After a marathon sex session and a nap to follow, Anna awoke at about eight-thirty in the evening and stumbled through to the bathroom, naked. The newspaper was sodden beneath the poo, so she pushed the poo over to a drier part, noticing as she did so that it was taking on a stiffer consistency.
“I think we’ll go boating tomorrow,” she said as she came back to the bed.
“Boating?” inquired Robert, his brow furrowed.
“On the loch. Don’t you think that would be fun?”
“Yes.” Robert nodded.
“I spotted a boat hire place while we were walking today. We can get a rowing boat there – I don’t fancy my chances with a sailing dinghy.”
“Okay.”
“You hungry? I am – I’ll call room service.” She picked up her panties, which still had the nine-inch poo inside, and put them back on.
The next morning, after breakfast, Anna picked out the longest dress in her suitcase since they would be certain to interact with other people today. This dress actually covered her panties both in front and at the back, though only just. She had reckoned, however, without the poo on the newspaper in the bathroom, which was now dry enough to pick up more or less in one piece. She dropped about two thirds of it down the back of her panties, and the rest she arranged along the gusset and in front of her pussy. This made her panties so heavy at the back that she had to lift the back of her dress and hold on to the waistband of her panties so they did not fall down. She pulled the panties up, her buttocks sinking into the huge pile of poo, and the disgusting mess oozed into every crevice. Anna sighed contentedly. She had never had so much poo in her panties. Waddling carefully, trying not to drop anything, she made for the door, with Robert following.
It took them a while to get back to the boat hire shop. By the time they got there, Anna had endured more insults and verbal abuse than she could ever remember having experienced in her life. The man in the shop was not much better.
“Wha’ the fuck?” he demanded. “Ye go’ shite in your pants, lassie! Wha’s up wi’ tha’?”
“It’s good for my skin,” said Anna. “We’d like to hire a rowing boat for the day, please.”
“Ye’ll get no boat frae me, lass,” said the boatkeeper. “I’m no’ havin’ my boat messed up wi’ all tha’ shite. Ge’ yersel’ clean an’ we’ll talk.”
“What if I were to let you feel my breasts?” asked Anna, thinking quickly.
The man’s eyes widened. “No kiddin’?”
“I’m serious,” said Anna. “I’ll let you fondle my breasts, right here, if you’ll let us have a boat for the day.”
“Does your boyfrien’ no’ mind?”
“You don’t mind, do you Robert?”
“Mind what?” asked Robert, who had been staring out of the window.
“You don’t mind if this nice man feels my breasts?”
Robert shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said.
With a little difficulty, since she had to keep hold of the back of her panties, Anna contrived to pull her dress up and over her head. She placed it on the counter and leaned forwards. “Help yourself,” she said.
Eyes shining, the boatkeeper reached out and took one breast in each hand. He squeezed and massaged them for a full minute before Anna withdrew. “Ach,” said the man. “Ye’ve a fine pair there. The boat’s yours for the day.”
“Thank you,” said Anna, picking up her dress in one hand. “Pay the nice man, Robert.”
“I don’t have any money,” said Robert.
“What? Where’s my purse?”
“I don’t know – in the hotel probably.”
“But I asked you to grab it for me before we left the room!”
“Oh. I didn’t hear. Sorry.”
“Damn!” Anna felt frustrated. She did not particularly want to run the gauntlet between here and the hotel again, just to fetch her purse.
“Ye could leave your dress here as a deposit,” the boatkeeper joked.
Anna sighed. “Oh all right,” she said.
The man’s jaw dropped. “Help yoursel’,” he managed.
Naked apart from her shoes and her sagging panties, which she was clutching with both hands, Anna waddled outside and made her way down to the shore, where Robert, once he had caught up, untied one of the rowing boats and got in. Anna stepped in too, and then sat down carefully. Poo spilled out on all sides, but she scooped it up and dropped it into the front of her panties so they bulged out even more around her pussy.
Robert rowed, and Anna shivered as a cool breeze sweeping down the loch gave her goosebumps. Just then, however, the sun came out and she began to warm up. Twenty minutes later they were far from the shore, and the breeze had dropped a little. Anna took off her shoes and panties, and lay down to catch some rays.
She had almost dozed off when Robert suddenly said, “Ooh look, Anna – boats!”
“Really?” she said sleepily. “That’s nice.”
“There’s an awful lot of them,” reported Robert. “I think they’re coming to say hello.”
Anna frowned and pulled herself up into a sitting position. Then she gasped as she looked down the loch. About thirty sailing boats were bearing down on them, obviously part of some regatta. “Quick Robert!” she exclaimed. “Row! Come on! Back to the shore!”
But as fast as Robert rowed, he had no chance of getting them out of the way of the approaching fleet. Two minutes later the first eighteen-foot dinghy cruised past just a few yards away. The crew gasped, pointed and yelled at the sight of Anna trying desperately and ineffectually to cover her nudity. Soon they were surrounded by whistles and cat-calls as the rest of the boats sailed by on either side. The last had not yet passed when the first, having rounded a buoy near the end of the loch, came back for another look.
The humiliation persisted until the very last of the boats had passed them by and headed off back up the loch. Anna felt sick to her stomach. But at least it was now over. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
They retrieved Anna’s dress from the boat hire shop and returned to the hotel, Anna dutifully maintaining the entire load of poo in her panties the whole time. That evening, she defecated again, and this time there was no way she could keep it all in her underwear – there was simply too much poo. But still Robert would not let her flush any of it, so they asked the hotel manager to procure a larger pair of panties for her – the kind that Anna’s mum wore, that covered the whole of both buttocks and which, though decidedly unattractive, would probably hold as much poo as Anna was likely to produce during her stay at the hotel.
The rest of the honeymoon was spent testing that hypothesis. By the end of their stay, the panties were bulging on all sides and Anna had to hold them up with both hands. For the journey home, Anna donned a cut-off tank-top that only just covered her breasts, and she did not bother with a skirt, since her panties were bulging so much that a skirt would have been useless. When the taxi arrived to take them to the station, however, the driver at first refused to let her in since she was bound to make a mess of the seats. In the end, however, he accepted a very large tip from the hotel manager and grudgingly agreed to take the happy couple.
That, unfortunately, was the end of their good fortune. While walking from the taxi to the station platform, Anna’s breasts finally bounced free of the tank-top and this, together with her poo-filled panties, attracted the attention of a police officer at the station entrance. Anna was arrested for indecent behaviour and taken to the local police station…
That evening Anna was back at the McEwans’ house, rather shaken after her ordeal. She had been forced to clean up and dress decently, of course, but a phone call to Gerald had brought him immediately to her rescue. What strings he had pulled, Anna never knew, but the police had finally agreed not to press charges.
“That does it,” she said to Barbara firmly. “I’m never going out in public with poo in my panties again.”
“Oh hush dear,” said Barbara soothingly. “You were just unlucky. Now why don’t you take off that dress and go and put your feet up on the couch in the conservatory? It’s lovely and warm in there.”
Anna sighed and took off her dress, giving it to Barbara. She was now naked apart from her panties and shoes. After a second or two she took off her shoes, too – her feet were aching a bit.
Barbara looked her up and down approvingly. “Lovely dear,” she said. “Now go and sit down and I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea.”
Anna wandered through to the conservatory, where the late evening sunshine was pouring through the window. It was quite humid in the room, so she opened the French windows to let some fresh air in. Returning to the couch, she propped up some cushions at one end and reclined with her back against them. A few minutes later Barbara appeared with her tea.
“Here you are, dear,” said Barbara. “Now, when did you last poo?”
“Um, the day before yesterday I think,” said Anna.
Barbara took her hand and smiled. “Why don’t you go again now, then?”
Anna nodded and turned on to her side, facing away from Barbara, who was given a good view of Anna’s panty-clad buttocks. As Anna strained and forced the tip of a thick, semi-firm poo out of her anus, Barbara watched with approval as the white material bulged outwards.
“Good girl,” she said encouragingly. “Keep pushing.”
First one, then another long poo was expelled, and soon there were two eight-inch turds pushing Anna’s panties out at odd angles.
“That’s no good,” said Barbara thoughtfully. “Could you raise your right leg for a moment please?”
Anna did so, and Barbara carefully took hold of one poo with her fingers. Pulling the front of Anna’s panties out, she laid the poo carefully along the front of the gusset and on up towards the waistband, so that when she let go, the poo was nestling between Anna’s pussy lips, with its tip reaching to the top of her neatly-trimmed pubic thatch. Turning her attention to the second turd, Barbara laid it just behind the first, so that it ran from her vaginal opening and back between her buttocks. Replacing the panties, Barbara pulled Anna back into her reclining position. The poo nestling against her anus squished deliciously.
“Better!” said Barbara. “Now can I get you anything else?”
“My laptop please?” said Anna. “I’ve kind of had an idea for a short story – I thought I might get my thoughts down while it’s fresh in my mind.”
“A story! What kind of a story?” Barbara asked.
“An erotic one,” said Anna, blushing slightly.
Barbara smiled. “I’ll get it at once.”
Not long afterwards, Anna was typing away industriously, taking occasional swigs of her tea. By nightfall she had not finished, so she went to bed. For once, Robert did not seem interested in sex, so she slept in her messy panties.
The following morning she woke up early and stole quietly down to the conservatory to continue with her story. It was going quite well and she was keen to keep up the momentum. An hour later Barbara brought her a large cooked breakfast, and she broke off her writing for a while to eat it. Then she returned to her story. By mid-morning the air in the room was getting stuffy, so she opened the French windows again.
After a break for a big lunch, she continued with the story. At two o’clock she decided she needed to poo again, so she did so. This one was soft and filled out the back of her panties so much that it began to leak out of the sides. She paid it no mind.
As the afternoon wore on, she found herself being pestered increasingly by flies. Ever since she had done her poo yesterday, flies had been gathering on her panties, but now they were buzzing about in great numbers and were making quite a nuisance of themselves, crawling on her laptop and obscuring her view of the screen. At length, however, she finished the story, just as Barbara was supplying her with another cup of tea and a crumpet with honey.
“Would you like to read my story?” Anna asked.
“Of course!” said Barbara, and she took a seat next to Anna, who passed the laptop across. Barbara paged up to the top of the text, and began to read:
Frank Davis was in the middle of washing the dishes when his daughter called down to him from upstairs. Drying his hands, he went to see what she wanted, and found her climbing into bed.
“Will you read me a bedtime story, Daddy?” she said.
“Sure,” he replied, and he began looking through the bookshelves in her room. “Let’s see now – what do you fancy? Something by Roald Dahl? James and the Giant Peach perhaps? Or how about Harry Potter…?”
“Oh Daddy, I’ve read all those books a hundred times. Maybe you could make up a story, like you used to?”
“Crumbs, well, you had less sophisticated taste then – it was easier to keep you interested a few years ago,” he replied doubtfully.
“Just try, Daddy?”
“Okay Emily, I’ll give it a shot. Are you comfortable?” He sat down on the edge of her bed, and began, “Once upon a time there was a young girl named Tammy who lived with her father in a small town in the heart of England. She was a good girl and always did as she was told.”
“How old was she Daddy?” Emily wanted to know.
“Um, she was thirteen.”
“Just like me!”
“Yes, just like you sweetie. Anyway, one day she was sitting watching television when she realised she needed to go to the loo. But it was the middle of her favourite film and she didn’t want to miss any of it – and it was on BBC1 so she knew there would not be any commercial breaks. Pretty soon, though, she was desperate…”
“Daddy?”
“Yes sweetie?”
“Was she desperate for number ones or number twos?”
“Number twos.”
“Oh! This is quite a rude story, Daddy!”
“I’m sorry – shall I stop?”
“No! I don’t mind – go on.”
“Well, she was determined to make it through the whole movie, but by the time the credits rolled she felt she was about to explode. She dashed up the stairs, only to discover that her Dad was in the toilet!”
“Oh no!” gasped Emily.
“Well, you can imagine what happened. It was all too much, and Tammy couldn’t stop herself – she did a poo right there in her pretty little pink panties.”
“She didn’t!” Emily was horror-struck.
“She did. And she felt so awful about it that when her Dad came out of the toilet, he found Tammy crying her eyes out. He asked her what was wrong, and she said ‘Oh Daddy! I went to the toilet in my knickers! I couldn’t help it!’ But instead of getting angry, her Dad gave her a big hug and wiped her eyes dry. He said to her, ‘Tammy, you shouldn’t worry about doing a poo in your knickers – it’s really not a bad thing to do. In fact some people do it for fun!’
“This of course took Tammy quite by surprise. She had not been expecting such a reaction from her father. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked him. And then her Dad said, ‘A lot of people find the feeling of warm poo against their bottom quite pleasurable. So they do it whenever they want. And there’s really no harm in it. So if you do a poo in your panties, you needn’t worry about it or feel guilty, because I won’t mind at all.’
”Tammy was completely astonished by all this. ‘But I’ve always thought it’s something only babies do,’ she said. Her Dad merely laughed and replied, ‘Not at all, Tammy – lots of grown-ups do it too. My suggestion to you is, if you need to poo and you can’t get to a bathroom, or if you just can’t be bothered to move from where you are, just do it in your panties and empty them out later.’
“So Tammy thought hard, and it occurred to her that it did actually feel quite nice to have poo in her panties. It was all warm and squishy against her bottom. So she said, ‘Do I have to empty them out right away?’ Her Dad smiled and said, ‘No Tammy – I’m not going to tell you when you should and should not fill or empty your panties. That’s your choice. If you want to keep the poo in your knickers, then go right ahead. You can empty them out whenever you like.’
“Tammy smiled and went back downstairs, with her pink panties still full of poo. She sat down on the couch, and the poo squished against her bottom and felt very nice indeed. She let out a happy sigh and for the rest of the evening simply enjoyed the feeling. And so from then on, whenever she needed to poo, she almost always found some excuse for not going to the loo right away, so that she could poo straight into her panties.’ And that’s the end of the story.”
Emily’s mouth was wide open. Then she closed it, her brow furrowing. “That was a strange story, Daddy!” she said. “Do people really poo in their pants for fun?”
Frank nodded. “They sure do, sweetie,” he said. “A lot of people really enjoy doing that.”
Emily was silent for a minute or two, then she said, “Daddy? I’ve just done a poo in my panties.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Have you really, sweetie?”
“Yes Daddy. You’re … not angry are you?” Emily looked at her father in concern.
“Of course not! I wouldn’t have told you that story if I were going to be angry about a little thing like that.”
“Do you want to see what I’ve done?” asked Emily.
“If you’re willing to show me…”
Emily turned on to her side, facing away from her father, who pulled back the duvet so he could see what his daughter had done. He lifted the hem of her nightie, and saw that the back of her panties was bulging with poo. “That’s very nice, sweetie,” he said. “Do you have any more to do?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Emily, and she began to grunt with effort. Frank pulled out the waistband of Emily’s panties to look inside, and he saw a new, dark brown turd emerging from between his daughter’s buttocks to join the first, which was itself impressively large. When Emily had finished, her panties were very full. Frank let the waistband go and replaced both Emily’s nightie and the duvet cover.
“Well, night night sweetie,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.
“Night night Daddy,” Emily replied, turning on to her back again. Frank got up and left the room, switching the light out in the process.
The next morning, as Frank sipped his cup of tea, Emily came trotting down the stairs in her school uniform. “Morning Daddy,” she said.
“Morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?”
“Fine thanks,” she replied. She sat down at the table – rather carefully, Frank thought.
“You still got that poo in your panties?” he inquired.
Emily looked a little fearful. “Is that bad?” she asked.
“No, not at all. But you’ll want to empty them out before going to school – other children can be rather cruel about things like this … they just don’t understand, you see.”
Emily nodded. “Yes, I agree,” she said. “I just hope I have time – we’ll have to leave in a few minutes.”
“Well, don’t short yourself on your breakfast,” said Frank. “This is the most important meal of the day.”
“I know, Daddy,” said Emily, as she poured milk on her cereal.
But when the time came to leave, Emily was still brushing her teeth. As her father called out, “Hurry up sweetie, we have to leave now or we’ll be late!”, she spat and rinsed, then rushed out of the room and down the stairs to the front door. They locked up and climbed into the car, where Frank sniffed the air.
“Didn’t you empty out your panties?” he asked her.
“I didn’t have time!” she said. “But it’s okay – I’ll do it at school.”
“All right,” said Frank. He started the car, and off they went.
They reached the school, and Emily got out. “Bye Daddy!” she said.
“Bye sweetie,” responded Frank. “Now hurry and get cleaned up.” He waved once and then drove away.
Emily looked at her watch. It was one minute to nine. There was no way she had time to clean up before the first lesson. But that didn’t matter – she loved the way her panties were plastered to her bottom, stuck there by a squished layer of sticky poo. Head held high, she walked into the school, marched into the classroom, and sat down in her usual place. Sure, she would get into trouble for this. But at least she had the support of her Dad…
“My goodness!” said Barbara as she finished reading the story. “That’s an interesting tale!”
“You liked it then?” asked Anna.
“It was very nice,” smiled Barbara. “Although the girl was rather young…”
“You think I should make the girl older?” asked Anna anxiously.
“No, go with what you’ve got,” advised Barbara. “After all, she’s not actually having sex…” She shrugged. “But anyway, have you yourself done anything today?”
“You mean a poo? No,” said Anna. “I’ll have a go now.”
She turned on to her side and strained, expelling a new, eight-inch poo, which she gingerly retrieved and placed in the front of her panties. The waistband now would not lie flat against her skin – there was a gap through which Anna could still see her poo. Flies almost immediately found the gap, too, and crawled inside.
After a large dinner and an evening playing cards, Anna went to bed with her panties as full as they could possibly be without overflowing. The following morning she headed down to breakfast and was met by Barbara in the hall.
“Why don’t you go and put your feet up in the conservatory?” suggested Barbara. “You’re pretty far along now – you shouldn’t be walking around too much. Plenty of rest, that’s what you need.”
Anna dutifully went to lie down on the conservatory couch. As she reclined, she looked down at her panties, and let out a scream of alarm. Through the gap between her waistband and the skin of her abdomen, she could see that the inside of her panties was crawling with maggots.
Barbara came running. “What’s the matter?” she asked in a voice full of concern.
“I have maggots in my knickers!” wailed Anna.
“Really? Let me have a look,” said Barbara, and she bent down to look inside her daughter-in-law’s panties. “Oh yes! Well, I shouldn’t worry – they’ll only be after your poo. You might as well let them have their feast. They won’t do you any harm.”
“But … they might crawl inside me!” There was a note of panic in Anna’s voice.
“Even if they do,” said Barbara soothingly, “they won’t eat anything that isn’t poo. Honestly – they’re quite harmless.”
“Okay,” said Anna, reassured.
From that day on, Anna kept her panties full of poo, and there were often maggots in there as well. But eventually the ninth month of her pregnancy drew to a close and she cleaned herself up in preparation for giving birth. When the labour pains began, however, she was sunbathing naked in the garden. She called out for Barbara, but her mother-in-law did not immediately appear.
The contractions subsided, and Anna remained where she was, reasoning that Barbara would come outside soon enough. In the event, however, it was well over an hour before Barbara appeared. A look of alarm crossed her face as she noticed Anna’s grimaces.
“You’re in labour?” she asked quickly, and Anna nodded. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“One and a half minutes,” replied Anna through gritted teeth.
Barbara tutted under her breath. “We’ll never get you to the hospital in time,” she said. “Looks like a short labour! I’d better deliver the baby here.”
“What, in the garden?” asked Anna incredulously. “Are you qualified?”
“I’m qualified,” said Barbara, “but I didn’t mean here in the garden. We’ll get you indoors.”
“Okay,” said Anna. “Now’s as good a time as any – let’s go.”
Barbara helped Anna to her feet and together they returned to the house. Inside, they were just crossing the living room when Anna’s next contraction hit. She doubled over in pain.
“Okay,” said Barbara, “plan B – the floor here.” She dragged cushions off some of the nearby chairs and laid them down for Anna to lie on. “I’ll get a blanket to throw over those cushions, but you can lie on them in the meantime.”
Two hours later, Anna had still not given birth, though she was well dilated and at the pushing stage. Gerald now arrived home with several business associates, and they were most surprised to see a naked young woman on the floor in the process of giving birth.
“Crumbs!” exclaimed Gerald. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, could you fetch me the short-handled scissors from the kitchen please?” asked Barbara.
Gerald’s associates gathered around to watch. Anna felt horribly embarrassed, lying there naked with her legs wide apart, but she was too busy puffing and blowing to say anything.
“Ooh – it’s coming!” said Barbara. “Keep pushing, dear!”
“What’s happening?” asked Robert, coming into the room at this point.
“Your wife is just giving birth to your child!” Barbara told him. “Come and see.”
A few moments later, the baby emerged and Barbara started it breathing, then deftly cut and tied the umbilical cord. “It’s a boy!” she announced.
Barbara was a great help during the next few weeks, shouldering many of the burdens that would otherwise have fallen on Anna as the only really responsible parent. This was particularly useful in the first few weeks, when Barbara was suffering from mild post-natal depression. After four months, however, Anna’s shape and mental health were pretty much back to normal, and Gerald offered her another job.
“I know you’ve got a baby to look after,” he said, “but Barbara can look after him for short periods, and the fact is I need someone good. A lot of the measures you suggested in your last contract have not been effectively enacted, and I need to throw some weight around without looking like I’m throwing my own weight around. I therefore thought of you. I’d like you to get out there and give these book-cookers a kick up the arse. The salary, of course, will be lucrative.” He named a figure.
Anna was only too glad of the opportunity to get some rest away from her baby (and from Robert, who could be a nuisance at times) for a short while, so she accepted the contract almost immediately. Two days later she set off for Inverness, wearing more than she had worn in months (a jacket, blouse, miniskirt, panties, hold-up stockings and shoes) and with a suitcase packed by her mother-in-law. She arrived in the hotel and unpacked in her room. She smiled as she saw the outfits Barbara had picked out for her – all were smart but highly revealing.
The next day she donned a suit whose skirt only just covered her buttocks. Since the jacket actually came down lower than the skirt’s hem, from behind it looked as if she were not wearing a skirt at all. This suited Anna just fine. She left her room and made her way to her appointment with the hotel manager, Frank Griffin, attracting a good many stares along the way. Realising she could not remember where the man’s office was, she took the lift down to reception and asked where Mr Griffin’s office was. On being told it was on the top floor, she returned to the lift and entered it along with several other people.
As the doors closed, a terrible odour made its presence known, and Anna looked around in surprise. This, for once, was none of her doing. She saw several hands cover their respective owners’ noses, and one man coughed as he tucked his nose behind the lapel of his jacket.
The lift began to move upwards, and then almost immediately stopped. The doors opened at the first floor, and a short, balding man in his mid-forties stepped out. Before the doors closed again, the lift’s occupants had time to see the balding man step through a glass door into the stairwell and begin to trot downstairs.
“That arsehole!” exclaimed the man with the odour-filtering lapel. “Just because I said he was short!”
“You think that was Neville?” inquired a smartly-dressed woman standing in front of Anna.
“Of course! He just went back down to the ground floor – he didn’t want to go up in the lift at all! He just came in here to break wind!”
Anna thought quickly. She had just been presented with a perfect opportunity. Relaxing her anal sphincter, she strained hard, and a long thin poo emerged from her rectum. It curled up in her panties before breaking off. She smiled to herself as she pressed her bottom against the back wall of the lift and eased it downwards, forcing her panties upwards and squishing the poo against her buttocks.
“Jeez, that was really bad!” exclaimed the man who had spoken previously.
“Oh hush Nigel,” said the woman.
The lift stopped again and several people got out, leaving just Anna and another woman, who got out at the next floor up. Anna was alone when she got out at the top floor, and she felt so excited at her deliberate public accident that she took a quick trip to the toilet to masturbate. After a delicious orgasm, she carefully took off her panties and left them on the toilet seat, still full of poo. Wiping her bottom, she climbed over the top of the stall so that she could leave the door locked, then she went back out into the corridor.
She found Mr Griffin’s office and knocked at the door.
“Come in!”
Anna entered and smiled at Griffin. She remembered him from a previous visit, and the recognition was mutual.
“Ah, Miss Nesbitt,” he said, getting to his feet.
“Actually it’s Mrs McEwan now,” Anna corrected him.
“Oh! Oh of course – how silly of me. I was of course informed that you had married Gerald’s son. Well, congratulations!”
“Thank you,” said Anna with a smile.
“Please, er, sit down,” said Frank, indicating a chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you. Do you mind if I take off my jacket? It’s a little warm in here.”
“Certainly certainly.”
Anna removed her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. She was well aware that this would make her nipples visible to Griffin – her white blouse was fairly see-through and she was not wearing a bra. As she sat down, her skirt rode up significantly and when she crossed her legs, Frank was able to see the outside of her bare outer thigh all the way up to her hip. His cheeks flushed but he forced himself not to stare.
“Well Mr Griffin,” said Anna, “how far have you managed to progress with the recommendations I proposed after my last visit?”
“We think we’ve done quite well,” replied Frank. “We’ve put the cleaning duties out to contract, as you suggested, and we’ve begun to replace some of the light-bulbs with energy-efficient ones…”
“Yes, so I saw from your report,” said Anna. “In fact you’ve put into place four out of the fifteen measures I suggested. May I inquire what is delaying your implementation of the other eleven?”
Frank chuckled. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Mrs McEwan…”
“I’m not asking you to build Rome,” said Anna, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward to place her hand on Griffin’s desk. “These are not expensive steps.” She began ticking off points on her fingers. “Let’s look at the environmental measures I suggested, for starters. The cistern dams, for example, could be installed in a day at minimal cost. Why have you not even begun to organise this? Spray taps in the washbasins … insulation of the hot water pipes … a water recovery system … composting of food waste – all measures that will start saving you money instantly and will quickly recoup the cost of their implementation.”
Frank could barely keep his eyes off Anna’s naked pussy which was now highly visible. “We’re … having enough trouble meeting our budget as it is,” he managed with some difficulty. “You’re asking us to take steps which, individually, are admittedly not expensive … but collectively they represent a considerable financial outlay. Yet Gerald will not permit me to exceed my budget on any month of the fiscal year!”
“Nice try Frank but I’ve seen your figures and that excuse won’t wash.” She got to her feet, and her skirt failed to fall back into place, residing instead about her hips so that most of her pussy was exposed. “I shall be here until ten o’clock tomorrow morning, Mr Griffin, by which time I expect to receive an itemised timetable of my proposed improvements.”
Frank sighed. “Very well Mrs McEwan,” he said. “I shall have a schedule drawn up this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” said Anna. She picked up her jacket and put it back on, then walked calmly to the door.
“Um, Mrs McEwan?” said Frank, just as Anna was leaving the room.
Anna popped her head back in. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” said Frank, with an apologetic smile.
Anna smiled warmly back at him. “My pleasure,” she said. She closed the door behind her and returned to the toilet, where she climbed back over the locked stall and put her poo-filled panties back on.
That evening, Anna was lying in bed wearing only her panties, browsing the web on her laptop, when there was a knock at the door. She got up, paused for a moment while she contemplated putting her dressing gown on, then she shrugged and went to answer the door. Instead of hiding behind it and peering around the corner to protect her modesty, she boldly opened the door wide … and was therefore rather disappointed to see nobody there. A small package, however, was lying on the floor in front of her door.
Puzzled, Anna stepped out of her room and stooped to pick it up. As she turned it over in her hands and examined it with a furrowed brow, a click behind her made her heart leap into her mouth. Alarmed, she spun around and tried the door, but it was locked, and her key was in the room.
“Oh my God!” she thought. “This can’t be happening!”
But it was. Truly unable to re-enter her room, she started along the corridor, hoping to find a sympathetic member of the hotel staff. However, as she approached the lift, she saw the doors open and a well-dressed businessman backed out, talking animatedly to someone within. He had not yet seen Anna.
Thinking quickly, Anna dashed through a door which led into the stairwell. Hastily trotting up the stairs, she managed to turn a corner before the businessmen passed the glass door. Continuing upwards, she soon reached the top floor, where she planned to solicit the help of the hotel manager. Cautiously she crept out into the corridor, then walked quickly towards the door to the manager’s office.
Before she reached it, however, another door opened and a tall, blond-haired man stepped out, almost bumping into Anna. “Good God!” he exclaimed.
“I’m sorry,” said Anna quickly, holding her hands over her breasts. “I locked myself out of my room and I’m just going to get the manager’s help.”
“You’re Anna McEwan, aren’t you?” asked the man.
Anna’s heart sank. “Yes,” she admitted.
“I thought so.” The man smiled. “I’m Sebastian Lake, a friend of your father-in-law. We met once before – you were giving birth at the time.”
Anna’s sense of horror increased, but she managed a nervous smile. “Then you haven’t exactly seen me at my best, I’m afraid,” she said.
“On the contrary! I think you’re quite lovely naked. And I notice you’re a panty-pooper! Well that’s nice. Listen, I’m afraid you won’t find Frank in his office at the moment – he’s attending to a bit of a crisis downstairs. Tell you what – why don’t I take you to him?”
“Thank you,” said Anna. “That would be very kind of you.”
She followed Sebastian to the lift which, when it arrived, was mercifully empty. They got in and started downwards. Then the lift stopped and the doors opened. Two men and a woman entered. They gasped in surprise as they saw Anna, who quickly folded her arms across her breasts. Then the newcomers recoiled at the smell and frowned at her, rightly assuming that she was responsible. However they fortunately said nothing.
The lift reached the second floor, where Sebastian gestured for Anna to walk out. As she did so, she blushed crimson at the thought that everybody still inside was no doubt staring at the bulge in her panties.