Becky 2: The Return of the Endless Poo

by Arthur Saxon
arthursaxon@zombieworld.com

Becky was grounded. It had been two days now since her traumatic adventure, and she was thoroughly tired of trying to convince her parents of the truth of her extraordinary tale. She knew how ridiculous it sounded, yet she stubbornly refused to back down and say she had made the whole thing up. No matter how hard she tried, however, she had only succeeded in convincing them that she was losing her grip on reality.

She sighed and put down her book. She could not concentrate on reading at the moment - she could think of nothing but her ordeal. The sensation of an endless flow of poo issuing forth from her anus was at the forefront of her mind, with the horror of being raped and covered in her own faeces following close behind. She was not sure which had been more frightening.

Since that awful night, she had not dared to go to the toilet (except to pee), for fear that her horrible experience might be repeated. However, she badly needed to go and she knew she could not hold out much longer. Sooner or later she would have to face her fear. Sooner or later. But later was preferable.

Her grounding was particularly infuriating since she had been invited by her friend Suzy to a party being held by one of Suzy's more disreputable friends. The party was tonight, and she had been hoping to attend it. There was no chance of that now.

"Becky?" came her father's voice through her closed bedroom door.

Becky hurriedly hid her book and sat down at her desk in front of her homework. "Come in, Dad."

The door opened and her father's head appeared. "Becky, there's a phone call for you. It's Suzy. I should have told her you weren't receiving calls, but you know what a softie I am…"

"Thanks Dad," said Becky gratefully, and she got up and pushed past her father.

"Don't mention it," he replied, but she was already halfway down the stairs.

Becky picked up the phone and carried it around the corner into the kitchen, where she pulled the door to. "Hi Suzy," she whispered.

"Hi Becky. It's too bad you're grounded - this is an excellent party you're missing."

"Oh thanks very much!" Becky frowned. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

"Yeah, well, I was thinking - do you want to slip out and come anyway? It will be going on until pretty late."

"Uh, no way - my parents would kill me!"

"They needn't find out. What time do they go to bed?"

"It depends - elevenish usually - they both get up pretty early."

"Excellent! So I'll pick you up around about eleven thirty?"

"Hush!" hissed Becky. "You'll do no such thing! I'm in enough trouble as it is!"

"Look, it's up to you. But there are just tonnes of boys here and some of them are really sexy. Nice lads, too - not what you'd expect from round these parts. Can't you sneak out of your window?"

"Yeah if I want to break an ankle plunging fifteen feet to the ground," muttered Becky sardonically.

"Isn't there a drainpipe outside your window? Couldn't you climb down it?"

"Well, yes…" Becky admitted. "Look, maybe I could get away with it and maybe I couldn't, but I still think it's not worth…"

"Gordon's here…"

Becky stopped short. "He is?"

"Yup, and it will be his car in which I'll be coming to pick you up. Gordon just got his licence, you know."

"Really?" Becky's heart fluttered. This put a new complexion on things.

"Still, if you're so much under your parents' thumb…"

"I'll be ready at eleven thirty," promised Becky. "But park around the corner, will you? I don't want you to attract my parents' attention, just in case they're still awake at that time."

"Good girl! I'll see you later then!"

There was a click, and Becky slowly lowered her handset. Her heart was pounding. What was she thinking? She would be grounded forever if her parents found out about this. Yet Gordon Innes was her secret love, though he did not know it, and she could not resist an opportunity to meet him out of school. It was not that he was particularly handsome, though he was quite good-looking in an unconventional way - but his smile and his sense of humour made her heart melt. And he was not currently seeing anyone, at least not that she was aware of.

Becky hurried back up to her room and closed the door. It was twenty minutes past eight - she had three hours to wait until Suzy arrived with Gordon to pick her up. With Gordon! She hoped Suzy would let her sit in the front seat.

Now what would she wear? She opened her wardrobe and perused its contents. She wanted to go all out to impress Gordon, to get him to notice her. Her eyes lit on a black lycra miniskirt that, ironically, Suzy had given her for her last birthday. She had never worn it before - it was too short for her liking - but tonight was a special occasion and she wanted to look particularly sexy. She pulled it out and threw it on to her bed. But what could she wear with it? She did not really have any tops that would go with such a skimpy skirt.

Tapping her chin as she pondered this problem, she pulled open each drawer of her chest-of-drawers, one by one, searching for inspiration. Suddenly she noticed an old white vest that she had not worn in at least six years. It was far too short to wear as a vest now, but it was made of thin and stretchy material, with narrow shoulder straps - in fact it would make an almost perfect tank top. Becky pulled it out and tossed it on to the bed next to her skirt.

She then hid the two items under her pillow, in case either of her parents should come bursting in unannounced, and went back to reading her book. Her messy nightmare of the night before last was now quite forgotten.

At half past ten her parents popped their heads in to her room to say good night, and Becky listened intently as they got ready for bed and finally switched their lights out. By eleven o'clock she could hear her father's snores floating across the landing. It was time to get dressed.

She slipped out of her school uniform and donned her miniskirt and top. The vest, stretched further than it was ever meant to be, became rather see-through and she could clearly see her bra through the thin material. Unhappy at the way this looked (the bra was red), she removed it and put on a white bra instead. This looked much better, and she actually quite liked the effect. 'This will bowl Gordon over,' she thought to herself.

She was less pleased with the way her skirt looked. It was stretchy and clung to her bottom, making her panty-line very visible. But she had no thongs and so there was little she could do about it. She put on some earrings and a pair of black shoes with one-inch heels (the highest heels she had), and began to apply some make-up in front of the mirror. By twenty past she was satisfied with her appearance, and she switched off her light prior to opening first her curtains and then her window.

Climbing out was a little tricky with high heels, so she took them off and dropped them down on to the lawn outside before clambering through the gap. The climb down the drainpipe was quite easy, even in her bare feet - she had shimmied up and down the pipe frequently as a child. Before she descended, however, she carefully closed the window, though not quite all the way.

On the ground, she retrieved her shoes and put them on, then trotted out to the pavement and walked around the corner on to Deventer Road, where she would not be seen if her parents happened to look out of their window. Being the middle of the summer, it was still quite light, though the street lamps were all illuminated to help her find her way.

To her surprise, Gordon's car was already parked by the kerb, its engine chugging away quietly. Becky quickened her pace and waved to Suzy, who had just stuck her head out of the window.

"Hi Becky," said Suzy. "Glad you could make it. Hang on, I'll just let you in." She opened the door and got out, then pulled the front seat forward to allow Becky to climb into the back seat, thus dashing Becky's hopes of being allowed to sit up front with Gordon.

"Thanks," she said, and stepped in. Her disappointment turned to elation when she caught Gordon sneaking a look up her skirt as she lifted her leg to climb in. She grinned at him, and when his eyes met hers he coughed and looked away a little sheepishly.

"Right," said Suzy, getting back into the front seat. "Let's go."

The party was being held in a run-down block of flats not far away, and the journey there was all too brief, as far as Becky was concerned. She attempted to make conversation with Gordon, but his replies were laconic at best. She tried to attract his attention by sitting with her knees apart right in the middle of the back seat, but Gordon's rear-view mirror was angled too high and he did not even notice.

They arrived at their destination fifteen minutes later, and Suzy let Becky out. Becky looked around, unimpressed. "What a dump!" she commented.

"It is," agreed Gordon, "but it has its advantages. We can party as loud and as wild as we like, and the coppers won't come near. Occasionally they do raid the building on drug busts, but the locals are pretty savvy and hardly ever get caught with any gear on them."

"Are there going to be drugs at this party?" inquired Becky, who did not like the sound of this very much.

"Of course!" said Gordon. "But don't worry - nobody's going to force you to do anything you don't want to. Personally I don't do any drugs, apart from pot. And E, once in a while."

"Come on, let's get inside," Suzy urged. "It's getting chilly."

Gordon nodded, and led the way into the ground floor of the building. There was a number pad by the door, but he knew the combination that would unlock the doors. Once inside, he walked past a lift door and made for another door that led to the stairwell.

Becky eyed the lift door, puzzled. "Why not take this?" she suggested.

"The party's just downstairs, in the basement," he said. "Hardly any point in taking the lift. Besides which, I hear it's nearly always broken. Incidentally, here's a tip for you - if you need to pee, go upstairs to the third floor. Everybody uses the ground floor toilet, and it's consequently pretty nasty."

The thump-thump-thump of a heavy dance beat assaulted their eardrums as Gordon opened the door to the stairwell. "Welcome to the party!" he yelled as he bounded down the stairs.

Descending close behind, Becky followed him into a dimly-lit basement wherein she could see twenty or thirty young men and women, some sprawled on the floor beside the pillars or along the walls, while others were dancing to the ear-battering music. Becky began to dance, swaying and gyrating to the rhythm, while Suzy did the same. They laughed at each other's moves, and Suzy pulled Becky across the room to where Gordon was getting a drink.

"Here Becky," shouted Gordon, handing her a bottle, "this'll put hair on your chest."

"Uh, I hope not!" replied Becky. "What is it?"

"Just vodka and orange. Try it! You'll love it!"

Becky accepted the drink and took a swig. "Hey, not bad!" she exclaimed.

"Told you." Gordon grinned. "By the way you're looking pretty hot tonight, Becky."

"Thank you!" Becky smiled at him. "Want to dance?"

"Sure! But finish that drink first and I'll get you another to take with you."

"Um, okay!" Becky downed the contents of the bottle (it was half empty anyway), and Gordon refilled it using a funnel and pouring from a much larger bottle. He handed it back to her and she smiled at him. "You'll get me drunk!" she cried playfully.

He grinned and led her out on to the floor, then he took hold of her waist with both hands, though one was still clutching a bottle of some description. As Becky planted her feet well apart and gyrated her hips, she became aware that her skirt was beginning to ride up. She decided to let it ride a little further before pulling it down.

"I love that skirt!" Gordon commented admiringly. "It seems to be getting shorter and shorter!"

"It is!" Becky shouted back, laughing. "You like that?"

"It's great! I love it!"

Becky giggled and took another swig of her drink. She continued to gyrate, bending her knees lower and lower while thrusting her hips out, so that anybody who happened to look in her direction would be able to see right up her skirt to her white panties. Then she laughed again, partly at Gordon's open-mouthed reaction, and she straightened up, her skirt now just barely covering her panties.

"You are one sexy girl!" Gordon shouted with a broad grin on his face.

"Thanks! You're a pretty sexy guy!"

For the next few minutes Becky continued to allow her skirt to ride upwards, and soon her panties were visible on a permanent basis. Gordon seemed to love this, however, so she did not attempt to rectify the situation. She smiled at him as he carried on eyeballing her crotch. Eventually, however, she began to wish he would look somewhere else.

"Do you like my top?" she asked him.

"Huh? Oh, yes - it's very nice. I can see your bra, you know!"

"Yeah, I know." Becky smiled. "Do you like that?"

"Oh yes! But you know… you know what would look really sexy?"

"What?" Becky's curiosity was aroused.

"How about if you take your bra off?" he suggested. "You know, wear just the top with nothing underneath?"

Becky was not at all sure about this. "Hey!" she rebuked him. "Everyone will see my breasts!"

Gordon shrugged. "Not very clearly," he said. "Besides, everybody's already seen your knickers!"

This was true enough. Becky thought about it for a moment, while her skirt climbed still higher. "Oh what the hell!" she said, and she pulled her left arm inside her top, withdrawing it from the shoulder strap of her bra. She did the same with her right arm, then pulled the bra around so she could undo the rear fastening. She put her arms back out through the holes in her top, and extricated her bra. "Ta daa!" She threw the bra to one side, with reckless abandon.

"Excellent!" Gordon approved, and spent the next few minutes staring at her bouncing breasts. Then he put an arm around her waist and drew her close, planting his lips to hers.

Becky's breath was taken away, but she responded to the kiss with enthusiasm. She closed her eyes as his tongue explored her mouth, while his left hand squeezed her right breast through her top, massaging it with gusto. She pressed her crotch against his leg, still gyrating to the music, and grinding her hips against his body. She could feel his erection bulging through the material of his jeans.

Gordon broke off from the kiss, grinning at her lecherously. He took a long swig of his drink. Becky put her own bottle to her mouth and drank deeply. She knew she was getting drunk, and that Gordon was taking advantage of her, but she didn't care. She just hoped he would stop short of actually having sex with her.

They resumed their kiss, and Gordon ran his hand down her back until he reached her skirt. Already halfway up her buttocks, he pulled the hem all the way up to her waist and started squeezing her bottom through her panties. Several of the lads who were sprawled on the floor a short distance behind Becky were clapping and cheering, though Becky did not hear this over the noise of the music.

Lost in the kiss, with her senses numbed by alcohol, Becky hardly registered what Gordon was doing, even when he slid both his hands inside the back of her panties to caress her bare buttocks. He grinned at his friends across the room and, in response to some unsubtle gestures on their part, surreptitiously began to pull Becky's panties down to reveal her bottom.

Becky was vaguely aware that she was probably showing far more than she would normally like, but she was lost in a world that she shared with Gordon alone, and no other people existed in her frame of reference. Her tongue writhed against his, her eyes were tightly shut, and her cheeks were suffused with passion. Dimly she was aware that he was lifting up the front of her top, but even when he had exposed her breasts it did not seem to matter. She merely pressed her chest against his, and revelled in his touch.

Gently he turned her around, while maintaining the prolonged kiss they were sharing. Her eyes still closed, she felt the warmth of his body move around to her back, while his hands caressed and kneaded her naked breasts. The cheers and wolf whistles of her growing audience went unnoticed, and she continued to gyrate sensuously. It was only when Gordon's hand stole down her belly to stroke her pussy that the nagging thought entered her head that he was probably going a little far. Her eyes opened, then lit upon the gathered spectators in front of her.

Squealing in alarm, she struggled free of Gordon's grasp and pulled down her top. She turned to face him and shot him an accusing look. "You bastard!" she yelled.

"Oh come on, Becky," he said. "You're a hit! Now everybody loves you! Come on girl, let's find somewhere quieter."

"Oh my God!" Becky had just noticed that her panties were halfway down her thighs and that her skirt was bunched around her waist. She hastily pulled up her panties and rearranged her skirt. Then Gordon took her by the hand and led her to the side of the room, where he sat down and hauled her on to his lap.

"Okay," he said, "I admit I got a little carried away there on the dance floor, and I apologise. But you have to admit, you were devilishly sexy out there. Every man in the room was undressing you with his eyes."

"Except for you - you were undressing me for real!" she snapped at him.

Gordon smiled. "Yes I was," he said. "I couldn't help myself - you were so gorgeously tempting. Now come here - I want to continue what we started out there." He pulled her to him and kissed her.

Becky closed her eyes again and returned the kiss. Her anger at him was gone, and she now merely wished to make out with him all night long. And when he slid his hand up her skirt and started stroking her pussy through her panties, she let him. She even allowed him to spread her legs so that he could get his hand inside her gusset. A moment later his finger was probing at the entrance to her vagina, and she moaned with pleasure. As it slid deep, she undulated her hips in response, while her tongue grappled passionately with his.

And then it happened. Her eyes flicked open as, startled, she felt a building pressure in her bowels that quickly became intolerable. She broke off the kiss.

"Oh - stop!" she exclaimed.

But Gordon merely smiled. "Come on," he said, "you know you want it."

Becky began to struggle free as, with mounting horror, she was forced to relax her anal sphincter. A large, soft poo began quickly to emerge. "No it's not that - I have to go to the bathroom!" she cried.

Gordon was a little put out, and tried to hold her down. "Can't it wait?" he inquired.

"No!" Becky staggered to her feet, feeling somewhat dizzy and disoriented. Four or five inches of poo had by now come out, and were pressing against the back of her panties. She reached automatically underneath her skirt and squished the growing lump with the flat of her hand. The soft poo was flattened and spread out, but more was emerging all the time. Becky looked around desperately for Suzy, and spied her making out with another boy on the other side of the room. She dashed across and shook her friend by the shoulder.

"Suzy!" she exclaimed. "You have to come with me! I need you to show me where the toilets are."

"Third floor," muttered Suzy drunkenly. "Can't miss 'em."

"No, you have to show me!" Becky insisted. She reached beneath her skirt and squished the poo flat again. There was now so much weight of poo in her panties that they were beginning to descend of their own volition. "Now, Suzy! I need your help!"

"All right all right," Suzy mumbled irritably, though her words were lost in the noise. "I'm coming."

Becky helped her to her feet, and strong-armed her towards the exit.

"Jeez, what's the hurry?" complained Suzy, stumbling over a particularly treacherous patch of completely flat floor.

"You'll see," said Becky grimly.

"Oh look." Suzy pointed to the display above the lift door just as they were about to enter the stairwell. "Lift's here … might as well try it."

Becky hesitated. She did not relish the thought of running up four flights of stairs with her panties full of poo, but what if the lift didn't work? "I suppose it can't do any harm," she said, and she pressed the button. To her surprise the door trundled open.

"See? What'd I tell you?" Suzy slurred, as Becky helped her into the lift.

"Here goes nothing," said Becky, and hit the button for the third floor. The door dutifully closed. Just at that moment her panties, sagging under the weight and pressure of the ever-flowing poo, sank to her mid-thighs and emptied much of their contents on to the floor. Suzy, slumped against the far wall, did not notice this.

A grinding noise was heard as the lift started upwards, and then a horrible scraping sound reverberated through the shaft. The lift shuddered to a halt and fell silent. 'What the heck?' thought Becky. Alarmed, she hit the Door Open button, but nothing happened. She tried all of the buttons, but none of them elicited a response from the stricken lift. She pounded on the door.

"Help! Help!" she yelled. "We're stuck in the lift!" But with the deafening music coming from the basement, she knew she had little chance of being heard. Meanwhile, poo was still slithering out of her anus and dropping to the floor to collect in a little pile.

"What the fuck…?" Suzy had just opened her eyes and was staring at the growing heap of excrement. "Becky!"

"Yeah I know!" said Becky crossly. "I can't help it! I don't know what's triggered it, but I can't stop the flow. It happened to me two days ago, but nobody believed me then. Perhaps you'll believe me now that you can see it for yourself."

"What the fuck?" Suzy repeated in disbelief.

"All right all right!" yelled Becky in distress. "So I've shat myself! The point is, I can't stop! It's going to keep coming out forever unless, well, unless it somehow stops by itself."

"But … where the hell's it all coming from?" asked Suzy in a kind of horrified fascination.

"Don't ask me. You know my dream about being abducted by aliens?"

"Yeah I remember."

"Well I think maybe it really happened. And maybe they put something inside me that is generating all this poo. Whatever the reason, we have to figure out how to get out of here - the lift's jammed."

"What??" Suzy looked concerned. "Ah fuck… Press the alarm button."

"The what? Oh!" Becky suddenly spotted the button in question, at the base of the control panel. She pressed it. Nothing happened. She pressed it again. "Am I supposed to hear something?"

"Maybe, maybe not. It might just alert somebody somewhere…" Suzy lapsed into silence, staring fixedly at the poo still falling in chunks from beneath Becky's skirt. "Hey," she said, "if this happened before, how did you stop it?"

"I fell over," said Becky simply, shrugging her shoulders. "Hey that's an idea - maybe I could try to do the same thing again!"

"Worth a try," agreed Suzy. "I hope it stops soon - it really smells! I guess Mr Hankey really blessed you…" She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, yawning.

Becky braced herself, then fell sideways on to the floor of the lift, taking care to avoid the pile of poo. She landed with a thud that hurt her hip, and cursed. Then, tentatively, she clenched her anal sphincter. Immediately the pressure built up to an unbearable level, and she was compelled to let it go. She sighed and got to her feet, then took off her panties and emptied them as well as she could without touching them with her hands. Then she threw herself on to the floor again, harder this time, and on her other side.

This time the effect was instantaneous. She gasped as the flow of poo became a torrent, pouring out of her anus at an incredible rate. She struggled to her feet and crouched against the wall, horrified, while her poo began to pile up in a heap beneath her.

"I don't think that worked!" she wailed to Suzy.

But Suzy did not reply. She had sunk to the floor, her head and shoulder resting against the wall, and was snoring gently, oblivious to the disturbing turn events had taken. Becky kicked at her foot, but she did not stir.

"Suzy!" Becky said loudly, but there was no response. "Oh shit!" she whimpered. "What am I going to do?"

The poo was quite soft - much softer than it had been the night before last, and it formed a shallow cone between her feet which spread out as fast as it rose upwards. Within minutes it was eighteen inches high, and more than three feet wide - Becky had to shuffle along the wall to prevent the pile getting on her shoes.

The thought occurred to her that she might climb up through the roof of the lift, like they did in movies. Upon looking up at the ceiling, however, this hope died - it was higher than she could comfortably reach. She sighed and leaned against the wall with her legs spread wide, letting the poo flow unimpeded directly on to the floor. She estimated it was emerging at a rate of almost a foot per second.

Soon she had to move again. The two piles, now as large as each other, had merged in the middle and were still spreading slowly. Becky started a new one beside one of the side walls. The spreading poo was creeping worryingly close to Suzy's foot. Becky kicked it. "Suzy!" she shouted.

But Suzy was completely insensible, and did not stir. Soon the poo had crept around both sides of her shoe, and was slowly but surely making its way up her leg. Becky, running out of places to put her own feet, hopped over Suzy's leg to stand beside her friend, then leaned as far away from Suzy as she could to drop the poo into the edge of her first pile. She hoped she would not overbalance in this position.

The poo, like some kind of bizarre lava flow, had now reached Suzy's right knee, and elsewhere it was beginning to creep over both her left foot and her left hand. Just then Suzy's shoulder began to slide along the wall, and Becky realised in alarm that her friend was about to tip face first into the muck!

She quickly pushed herself off the wall and came to Suzy's rescue, catching her just in time. She turned Suzy so that her back was to the wall and her legs were stretched out straight in front of her, with her feet well apart for stability. Satisfied with her work, Becky resumed her position, still churning out vast quantities of poo which poured with a series of muffled plops into the thick layer covering most of the floor.

Since Suzy was now sitting with her legs apart, and was wearing a skirt equally as short as Becky's, Becky had a good view of her panties as the poo flow crawled inexorably up her friend's skirt. She bit her lip, terrified of what Suzy's reaction would be when she finally woke up. Transfixed, she watched as the poo reached Suzy's panties and began to build up around them, cradling her crotch and eventually obscuring the panties from Becky's view.

Becky finally gave up trying to keep her own feet out of the poo. It was a hopeless effort anyway. Sighing with resignation, she stood up straight, planting her feet in the middle of one of the 'valleys' between the excremental peaks. Suzy, blissfully unaware of what was going on, now had her legs mostly covered, and the poo was beginning to creep across her lap.

Becky desperately resumed her futile attempts to attract the attention of the partygoers downstairs, thumping on the lift door and yelling at the top of her voice. But nothing happened except that her throat became sore. Dejectedly, she took up pressing the alarm button over and over again. But either it did not work or nobody was paying attention to it.

Suzy was now sitting in poo that came up to her waist, completely covering both legs and her forearms, which were hanging limply by her sides. Becky, meanwhile, was almost knee-deep in the foul-smelling muck. In truth, the smell was becoming overpowering, and Becky was beginning to feel giddy. It occurred to her that she and Suzy could very well suffocate if they did not somehow get out of the lift soon. She attempted to lift one foot out of the poo, then discovered with a shock that it was acting like rather glutinous mud. With an effort, she managed to pull her foot free, but her shoe stayed where it was and remained buried. Annoyed, she considered reaching down with her hand and trying to pull it out, but dismissed the idea - where would she put it if not back in the poo?

She freed her other foot - again losing a shoe - and stepped over to where Suzy was still fast asleep. Becky grabbed her friend's shoulders and shook them hard. "Suzy!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Hmmm… Huh…? What?" Suzy groggily achieved consciousness. "Ugh… Oh my God!!!" With a panicked expression, Suzy stared around her wildly. "What the hell is going on?"

"Come on Suzy, get on your feet," said Becky, trying to pull her friend up.

"Look at me!! I'm sitting in poo!!" wailed Suzy, disgusted beyond her worst nightmares. "Jeez, Becky, did all this come from you?"

"All of it," replied Becky grimly. "Come on, get up - we need to co-operate if we're to get out of here."

Suzy struggled to move, but it was not easy. With a squelching sound she eventually succeeded in bringing her knees up to her chest, and from there it was comparatively easy to pull her to her feet. She stood for a moment, knee-deep in poo, looking down in horror at her legs and lower torso, which were coated brown and dripping large chunks of faecal matter.

"Now listen," said Becky. "I want to climb on your shoulders and get that hatch in the ceiling open. Then I'll climb through and pull you up after me, okay?"

Suzy considered this. "No way," she said. "At least my top half is still clean. I don't want you sitting on my shoulders, pooing all over me. If you don't mind, I'll get on your shoulders."

Becky frowned. "I'm cleaner than you, so far," she said. "And you're … you're covered! If you get on my shoulders you're going to smear that stuff all over my head and shoulders and everything!"

Suzy glared at her. "Let's just remember whose fault this all is. I'm not the one filling the lift with poo - I think I deserve to get out first."

Becky was about to object, but then she sighed. "Whatever," she said. "Have it your way. Come on then, get on my shoulders."

She bent down low as Suzy contrived to turn herself around. "Oh heck, I'm losing a shoe," she complained.

"I've already lost both of mine," muttered Becky. "Deal with it."

When Suzy was fully turned around, Becky tucked her head between her friend's legs, then, bracing her hands against her bent knees, attempted to straighten up. Suzy kicked her legs in an attempt to free them from the poo's sticky grasp, and finally succeeded - her feet came free with a sudden 'shloop!'.

Becky, caught off balance, tried to step back but could not move her feet fast enough. With a cry of alarm, she sat down hard in the deep pool of her own poo, and sank up to her waist, forced downwards by Suzy's weight. Suzy, for her part, gripped the sides of Becky's head with her thighs with a pressure that made Becky's ears ring. Arms flailing, Suzy fell sideways with a great splat into the deep poo, while Becky hurriedly planted her arm deep in the muck to prevent her head from going under.

"Oh GREAT!" yelled Suzy, struggling to get herself on her feet once more. Her whole left side, from her hair down to her waist, was plastered with the soft excrement. "That's just fantastic! Now what?"

"We try again!" snapped Becky. "Nothing's changed - we still have to get out of here, and that hatch is our only means of escape."

By now both sporting a thick coating of poo over most of their bodies, the two girls struggled once more to get Suzy on top of Becky's shoulders. This time, using the wall as a support, they succeeded, and two minutes later Suzy was pushing the hatch open. It fell back with a dull clang, and Suzy grabbed hold of the sides of the hole to support herself while she tried to stand on Becky's shoulders. After a bit of cursing and a lot of wobbling, she contrived to pull herself up through the hatch. Exhausted, she lay on the top of the lift, panting.

"Don't you fall asleep up there," Becky warned, now unable to see her friend. "Hurry up and help me out." The poo spilling from her anus had by now caused the level in the lift to rise above her knees, and the stench was unbelievable.

Suzy reached down with her arm. "Grab my arm and I'll try to pull you up," she instructed.

Becky took hold of Suzy's arm with both hands, then kicked to try to free her legs - she knew that Suzy would not be able to lift her while she was still mired.

Suzy pulled with all her might, planting her knees either side of the hatch and bracing herself with her other hand. But once Becky lifted her feet clear of the muck, and her whole weight was pulling down on her friend's arm, Suzy realised she had not the strength to lift Becky any higher.

"Ow!" she complained. "You're pulling my arm out of its socket! Let go!"

"No! You can't just leave me in here!" cried Becky. "You have to pull me out!"

"I can't!" snapped Suzy. "I'll have to go and get help. I'll try to climb up the shaft and then I'll fetch Gordon."

"Like hell!" This proposal frightened Becky. She braced her feet against the lift wall and attempted to climb up Suzy's arm, hand over hand.

"Ow, let go!" insisted Suzy. She shook her arm violently, and pulled it back hard.

Becky lost her grip on Suzy's arm and fell a full four feet into the poo, landing on her back. She sank immediately, with only her head and her knees still showing above the surface once the poo had flooded back over the top of her. "Well thank you very much!" she shouted.

"I'll go and get help," promised Suzy, and she disappeared from view.

Becky struggled into a sitting position, in which the poo now came up to her shoulders. She sighed. What a nightmare this excursion had turned out to be! She did not know how she was going to return home without her parents finding out. Maybe now, however, they would believe what had happened to her two nights ago. At least now she had a witness - Suzy would back her story up even if the flow of poo stopped before she got home.

But this sitting position was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable. The rate at which her poo was flooding out of her anus had not changed, but now it was trying to push against the considerable pressure of poo surrounding her bottom. She realised she would have to get to her feet again, though she was tired from standing up for so long. Struggling through the thick muck, she managed to plant her feet firmly on the floor, and got to her feet. Her smelly faeces coated every part of her body from her neck downwards. Her top was a poo-soaked rag that clung to her body so tightly that it took on the shape of her breasts. Her miniskirt, the only other garment she was still wearing, was bunched around her waist. There seemed no point in pulling it down.

Her poo poured from her rectum like effluent from a sewage outlet. The heap it formed below her bottom slowly settled into the pool so that the level throughout the lift was fairly even. So Becky simply stood where she was, and waited for Suzy to return, while the poo grew steadily deeper around her. From her knees it climbed, over the course of the next hour, to her pussy, though the horror this might once have brought was dulled by familiarity. Being covered in poo, sitting or standing in poo, having poo cradling her pussy and buttocks, and the feeling of having poo constantly pouring out of her anus, was beginning to feel almost normal to her. She was even becoming desensitised to the smell.

And the level was climbing quite slowly, despite the rate at which it was leaving her anus. She was growing bored. Initially she had been scared at the thought of drowning in her own poo, but even fear cannot last for very long. Pounding on the door was futile, as was shouting. Her only option was to wait, and it was impossible to fret constantly about how long it would take Suzy to return. So her thoughts turned to other matters, partly to take her mind off her predicament. She began to think about Gordon, and about the kisses she had shared with him. Of course she was annoyed at him for displaying her nakedness to his friends, but then, no real harm had come of it. Besides, she had not minded so much as she would have thought - maybe she had a secret exhibitionistic streak she did not know about.

She thought about these things and others, but mostly she thought about Gordon. Despite herself, she felt herself becoming aroused at the memory of him slipping his hand inside her panties and sliding his finger into her vagina. For a while, at least, she had been Gordon's girlfriend, and he had wanted her. Recalling the sensation of having his tongue slip into her mouth, Becky reached down with her hand and began to caress her pussy. It was covered with poo, but the messy stuff squished outwards under her touch, and did not interfere with her arousal.

Placing her middle finger on her clitoris, she began to move it around in rapid, small circles, a masturbation technique she had perfected several years ago after some experimentation in the bath and in her bed at night. In this manner she stimulated herself, putting out of her mind the fact that she was standing in poo so deep that she had to dip her fingers into it just to reach her clit. She closed her eyes, panting heavily as she imagined Gordon on top of her, thrusting his erection inside her, fucking her…

With her other hand she reached down and slid two fingers into her vagina, caring little that a considerable quantity of poo was entering her as a result. Her mind was fixed on her impending orgasm. She pulled up the front of her ruined top to expose her breasts, and began caressing them with her hand, rubbing poo into her soft flesh. After a moment or two of this, she returned her hand to her pussy, where she resumed finger-fucking herself. She moaned aloud as her arousal peaked, and waves of pleasure rushed through her body as she shuddered in orgasmic bliss.

After another hour the poo had almost reached her breasts. How long had she been stuck in here? Three hours? Four? Five? She was tired and wanted to sleep, but did not dare let herself do so for fear she should drown. She had discovered she could float pretty well, if she stretched out, lying on the surface - she was considerably less dense than her excreta. And extra lift was provided by the poo rushing out of her anus - it was like a kind of jet propulsion. She figured this would help her when the poo finally reached the top of the lift - she would then hopefully be able to pull herself out of the hatch and escape. Where the hell was Suzy?

"Becky!"

Becky's eyes snapped open and she looked up, startled. Had she been asleep? The poo was now up to her chin. Blinking, she realised Gordon's head was poking through the hatch. "Gordon!" she exclaimed. "What took you so long? Get me out of here!"

Gordon, his nose wrinkling in disgust, reached down with his arm. "I'm sorry, Becky," he said, "but Suzy only just got to me. Apparently a lot of awful things have happened to her since she got out of that lift. She's pretty badly traumatised, but she did manage to tell me that you were stuck in here, and that the lift was filling up with your poo. I thought she was raving, but I see she was right. What the hell's going on?"

"I'll explain later," said Becky. "Just get me out of here." She pulled her arm out of the poo and reached it up to Gordon.

He recoiled a little. "Can't you, um, clean your hand off a bit?" he asked.

Becky pulled a face. "Gordon! Just face it - you're going to get a bit mucky. You can always wash afterwards."

He shrugged and nodded, then grabbed hold of her upstretched hand. "Good grief!" he exclaimed as he pulled. "You're pretty well stuck in there, aren't you? I could do with someone else here to help."

"Hang on," said Becky. "I'll try to get myself floating as much as possible. It'll take a couple of minutes."

"That's all right. Take your time."

Becky kicked with her legs and paddled with her arms, 'swimming' upwards in slow motion through the thick poo. In a few minutes she had managed to get a good proportion of her body above the surface, and Gordon tried once more to pull her free. This time, with a great deal of puffing and blowing, he succeeded. With his assistance, Becky climbed up through the hatch, a bedraggled poo-covered girl whose breasts and pussy would be on full display if it were not for the excrement liberally covering them.

"I'll go first, if you don't mind," said Gordon, staring with fascinated disgust at the torrent of poo pouring from between her buttocks.

Becky shrugged. "Fine, fine. Lead the way."

There was just enough light, cast through the lift hatch, for Becky to see that there was a kind of ladder built into the side of the lift shaft, presumably for use by maintenance engineers. Gordon climbed up first with impressive agility, while Becky followed behind at a rather slower pace, trailing a long cascade of poo that continuously splattered over the roof of the lift.

Gordon disappeared from view above Becky, and she realised that the doors of the lift entrance above her were being propped open. Her hands and the soles of her feet, lubricated by poo, kept threatening to slip off the rungs of the ladder, but somehow she made it to the opening, and Gordon helped her through it. She stood up while he stood back.

"And it's still coming out of you?" asked Gordon in disbelief.

"Oh yes, and it will forever unless something stops it," said Becky resignedly. "Do you think I could get a shower somewhere?"

"Yes, I'll take you to the flat that Suzy showered in," said Gordon. "Follow me." He led her along the corridor and up a flight of stairs to the next floor. He knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened, and a short, middle-aged, pot-bellied man appeared. "Oh, you again," he said. "What's up?"

"I was hoping my friend could use your shower." Gordon indicated Becky. "She's had a tough time too, and as you can see she too is badly in need of a shower…"

"You're telling me!" exclaimed the man. "Wait a moment though - what's going on back there?" He stared at the pile of poo collecting on the floor between Becky's feet. Then he looked down the corridor and saw the trail of poo she had left. "Turn around, girl," he said.

"I can't stop pooing!" Becky explained with an apologetic smile. "It just keeps coming out of me and won't stop!"

The man looked sceptical for a moment, but as he continued to stare at the growing heap of excrement he was forced to concede that there might be some truth in her words. "Well, you can't come in here then," he said. "You'd fill up my bath in no time. Be off with you! And make sure you clean up the corridor before tomorrow. I don't particularly want to step in your shit when I leave here tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, like hell," retorted Gordon. "Thanks for nothing, you jerk. Come on, Becky."

"But what am I going to do?" wailed Becky as the man's door closed.

Gordon shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "But I got you out of the lift anyway, so I'm going back to the party, after I've found somewhere to wash my hands. You can do what you like."

"You're abandoning me?" asked Becky in disbelief.

"Sorry babe. But this is just too bizarre. I suggest you get yourself to a hospital and have them check you out."

"And how am I going to do that?" she demanded.

"I don't know. I'm sure as hell not going to take you in my car though. Call for an ambulance," he suggested.

"Yeah? How?"

Gordon sighed. "Damn it," he said. "Okay, I'll call for one." He knocked on the door again.

"I thought I told you…" began the man when he had opened the door.

"She doesn't need to come in," interrupted Gordon. "But could I use your phone to call for an ambulance? This is obviously a serious medical problem she's got here."

"Um, sure. Wash your hands first though."

"I intend to." Gordon entered the man's flat and the door closed.

Becky was left in the corridor, with only her poo for company. She knew she looked a mess, and smelled terrible, and that her top was still riding high above her breasts, and that her miniskirt was still around her waist, but she no longer cared. So what if people saw her this way? It wasn't her fault! It was beyond her control, therefore nobody could blame her for it. And now she had witnesses who would corroborate her story, so that maybe her parents could be convinced. She just hoped that the flow would not stop before she got at least to the hospital. Maybe the same doctor, who had insulted her before, would be there and would have to admit he was wrong and apologise to her.

Gordon reappeared. "Right," he said. "The ambulance is on its way. I'll see that it picks you up okay, and then I'll go back to the party. Fair enough?"

"Thank you," said Becky gratefully.

She followed him downstairs, and they waited just inside the front door for the ambulance to arrive. When it did, twenty minutes later, she had amassed a sizeable new pile, from which Gordon stayed well clear. He stayed close by, though, until two ambulance men walked up to the door, then he opened it for them.

"What the hell is going on here?" inquired the first man.

"Okay," said Becky quickly, "I want you two to be witnesses to this." She turned around. "See that? Keep watching, because it won't stop. I've been crapping like this continuously for the last, I don't know, five hours? The lift, if you'd care to climb down the shaft to look inside, is four or five feet deep in the stuff. Fortunately Gordon here rescued me before I drowned in it. But do you see? You see how it doesn't stop?"

"I see," said the first man, "though I'm buggered if I understand it. Five hours, you say?" He looked beyond her, up the stairwell, at the trail of poo that she had left. "Well, I guess I'm a witness all right. You poor thing! And from the look of it, you've been practically buried in it. Okay, come on into the back of the ambulance. I dare say you'll make a fine mess of it by the time we get to St Pat's, but I think under the circumstances there isn't a lot we can do about it. I'll give you a robe to wrap around you - you'll catch cold otherwise. Can you walk all right by yourself?"

"Sure!" Becky nodded. "I'm not incapacitated, I'm just pooing like there's no tomorrow." She followed them back to the ambulance, waving goodbye to Gordon, then stepped into the back. Clutching her robe about her, she squatted between the seats, not wanting to mess them up too much, and began to build up a pile on the floor."

The ambulance drove quickly - the driver obviously wanted to minimise the mess - and arrived at the hospital after only a few minutes. It pulled into the ambulance compound, then braked rather more sharply than Becky had expected. She was unprepared, and lost her grip on the side of the seat. Thrown forward, she hit the hard wall behind the driver's seat and then bounced back, falling backwards into the pile of poo she had been building up. She grimaced. She seemed to be fated to suffer this kind of ignominy.

The back doors opened, and the driver appeared. "Sorry about that," he apologised. "I forgot we hadn't strapped you in. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Becky, getting up from the floor. "Except … damn!!"

"What is it?" asked the driver in concern.

"It's stopped!" exclaimed Becky. "My poo - it's stopped coming out!"

"Oh, congratulations!" The driver seemed pleased.

"But don't you see? Now nobody will believe me! I needed to have the doctors see it for themselves! The last time I was here with this same problem, it stopped before I had a chance to demonstrate it to anyone, and so I was sent home in disgrace." She began to cry. "This is so frustrating!"

"Hey, relax," said the driver. "I saw it, and so did Ted. We'll back your story up, don't you worry."

Becky shook her head. "Forget it," she said. "You'll only jeopardise your careers if you do. Think about it - would you believe it on another man's say-so, unless you saw it for yourself?"

The driver thought for a moment, then he scratched his head. "Perhaps not," he admitted. "But what do you want to do?"

Becky sighed. "I'd very much appreciate a shower," she said, "and then if you could take me home I'd be very grateful."

The driver nodded. "No problem at all," he said.

An hour later, the ambulance dropped Becky off, at her request, just around the corner from her house. Wearing only her soaking wet miniskirt and top (which still smelled of poo despite her best efforts under the shower head), she climbed the drainpipe outside her window and slipped inside. It was nearly six o'clock in the morning, and she would have to get up in two hours, but at least she would get a little sleep. Taking off her wet clothes, she dried herself with a towel and climbed into bed. It was nice to be clean again, she reflected. But who knew when she would next find herself unexpectedly filling her panties?

'Next time,' she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep, 'I'll have to make sure I have more witnesses. A larger audience. Maybe I'll poo myself in front of the whole school…'

THE END
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