The house was buzzing with activity. The bride’s mother was frantically making last-minute adjustments to her daughter’s hairdo, one of the bridesmaids was fussing over a snagged thread in her dress, another bridesmaid was on the phone with the caterers, having just learned that the groom’s sister was a vegetarian, and the father of the bride was wandering around aimlessly, looking for his tie.
“There! That’s perfect!” said Pamela Mapleton, standing back and smiling brightly at her daughter’s hair.
Kelly stood up and looked in the mirror. “It’s still leaning to the left!” she said. “Mum, I can’t walk down the aisle with my hair leaning to the left!”
Pamela sighed. “All right! I’ll fix it. Roddy, for heaven’s sake, it’s hanging over the back of your chair in the kitchen – where you left it!”
“Ah,” said her husband Roddy. “Thank you dear.”
The bridesmaids entered the room together. “They’re telling me there will be plenty of veggie stuff,” said Carrie, a short, pretty blonde who was Kelly’s best friend.
“Good,” said Pamela, popping a hairpin between her lips as she partially unwound Kelly’s long, tawny and gorgeously silky hair. She glanced at the clock nervously, but she had allowed plenty of time to deal with last minute hiccups and they still had several minutes to spare. After a couple more minutes of rearranging Kelly’s hair, she stood back again. “There, that’s better.”
Kelly stood up again, looked in the mirror, and nodded approvingly. “Thanks Mom,” she said.
“Right! We’re all ready then?”
“Yes dear,” said Roddy, straightening his tie as he entered the room.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” said Pamela, going over to him and taking hold of his tie. “Let me.”
Roddy placidly stood still as his wife fixed his tie. Then he waved them all toward the door. “Off we go, then!”
“This is so exciting!” giggled Faith, Kelly’s other bridesmaid, who also happened to be her younger sister. Her reddish-brown hair was a darker shade than Kelly’s, and it was also longer, reaching all the way down to her waist.
Kelly’s heart was beating rapidly as she climbed into the back of the large town car. This was it! Her wedding day! Finally! She would never have believed, a year ago, that she would be getting married at the tender age of twenty-two … and to a black man, no less … yet here she was. She had no reservations at all about taking this plunge – Theo was just about the most wonderful man she could possibly imagine, even winning over her old-fashioned and conservative parents.
She tucked her wedding dress in around her legs to make room for her mother to sit next to her. The dress was white and simple, yet elegant, with a low neckline that showed off what she considered to be her best assets: her impressively large E-cup breasts. Theo loved them – one of his favourite pastimes was laying his head in her lap and sucking on one or other of her nipples as if he were a baby. Silly old Theo – but she was happy to indulge his harmless little fetishes.
On her feet she was wearing flat ballet-style wedding shoes. They were beautiful, but she would have preferred shoes with heels. The reason she had picked this pair was that, although at five feet six she was hardly a giantess, she was only an inch shorter than Theo, and did not want to appear to be taller than him at the wedding. Anyway, they were very comfy.
She finally allowed herself to relax. She had been in high-stress mode practically constantly the last few days, getting ready for the big day. Now that it was here, and everything was done … now she could, at last, calm down and enjoy it. Looking out of the car window, she watched the houses flash past, smiling as she imagined herself living with Theo in one of them. Currently she lived with her parents, and he in an apartment … but they had already started looking at houses, and hoped to be in one of their own by Christmas.
She rubbed at her abdomen. It felt very full – recently she had not given much thought to staying regular, and she was not sure when she had last defecated. Was it three days ago? Four? Goodness, could it have been five? She bit her lip, trying to remember. But then she forced herself to relax. It was a silly thing to fret over.
Except that the pressure in her bowels seemed to be building by the second. Relaxing was apparently giving her intestinal motility a chance to make up for lost time. She winced as the pressure intensified.
“Um, Dad?” she said. “Can we stop at a toilet somewhere on the way? And don’t tell me I should have gone before we left, because I know.”
“Uh, sure,” said her father.
“Silly girl,” said Pamela. “Why on Earth didn’t you go at home?”
“I had other things on my mind!” said Kelly. “Look, you’re not allowed to find fault with me today – it’s my wedding day.”
Pamela held up her hands. “All right!” she said. “But I can’t believe you’re thinking of going into a public restroom in your wedding dress. That’s going to look rather bizarre, don’t you think?”
“Can’t you wait until we get to the church?” asked Faith.
“No!” said Kelly. “Can you imagine me arriving at the church, only to dash into the restroom? Whatever would people think? Besides, I don’t think I can wait that long.”
“How far is it?” asked Carrie. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there before.”
“Do you know Paulo’s Ristorante?” asked Kelly.
“Of course,” said Carrie.
“It’s about a mile beyond that,” said Kelly. “Cute little church – and quite old.”
“My friend Mia reckons she got a mild case of food poisoning when she ate at Paulo’s a couple of months ago,” said Faith conversationally.
“Really? I’ve always found the food there to be amazing,” said Pamela. “Remember going there for our twentieth, darling?”
“Indeed,” said Roddy. “I had lobster.”
“No you didn’t, darling. You had Eggplant Parmigiana. You had lobster at Red Lobster.”
“Ah, that was it,” said Roddy, nodding. He slowed down and pulled into a gas station. “Will this do?”
“It’ll have to!” said Kelly. “Thanks Dad.” As the car stopped, she opened her door and climbed out, gathering her dress up so that it would not come into contact with any dirty parts of the town car. Not that this was likely – the car was extremely well looked-after, and spotless.
She hurried into the little store, where a fat man behind the counter sat picking his nose while watching a small television. “Restroom?” she asked him.
“Round the back,” said the man. He looked up, and his eyes widened. “You getting married?”
“Yes!” said Kelly, heading for the door.
“Well, uh … it’s a bit dirty…” began the man, but Kelly was already outside.
She found the restroom – a small wooden building with stick figures representing a man and a woman standing side by side on a single door. She opened the door, and recoiled at the tremendous stench issuing from within. It made her cough and brought tears to her eyes. She peered into the semi-darkness. “Good grief!” she exclaimed. Reaching inside, she fumbled around for a light switch so she could get a better look. She found it, and flicked it.
The restroom was, without a doubt, the most filthy and disgusting thing she had ever seen. The floor from wall to wall was covered in piles of poo – some small, consisting of only a turd or two, and others comprised of between five and ten turds. In between and surrounding the piles was a dark liquid, which Kelly strongly suspected was urine. She could not fathom why anybody would go into a toilet, only to pee or take a dump on the floor, when there was a perfectly good … oh.
Her jaw dropped and her face paled as she noticed the toilet itself. The very sight of it made her feel ill. It was so full of poo that hardly anything of the ceramic rim was visible. A veritable poo mountain extended from one side of the bowl to the other, and rose eight or nine inches above the level of the rim. At the very summit, as if it were a radio mast atop a hill, a single knobbly poo stood vertically, rising six inches or so above the peak. Kelly wrinkled her nose as she tried to imagine what sort of twisted person would take the trouble to stick a turd in such a position. They must have taken hold of the thing and thrust it down into the poo-pile in order to make it stay in place. The very idea was revolting.
Around the toilet bowl were large piles of poo, which had no doubt fallen off as a result of people trying unsuccessfully to add to the main pile in the toilet … or perhaps they had formed from the main pile settling and spreading outwards until chunks of poo dropped off the edge.
At any rate, this was unquestionably the most horrifyingly awful restroom that Kelly had ever had to use. She just hoped she would be able to keep the contents of her stomach down. With a little anxious whimper, she gathered up her wedding dress until the hem was around her knees, and then she stepped inside.
Her right shoe sank immediately into the lake of urine, and continued to sink through a thick layer of brown mush until the surface of the urine lake reached her ankle, and a mixture of urine and stirred-up poo-mush poured into her shoe around her foot. She shuddered as she felt her wet, messy foot sliding around inside her shoe, but she bravely took another step, placing her left shoe in a narrow gap between two large piles of poo. Once again a mixture of urine and poo poured into the tiny gaps between her foot and the sides of her shoe. “Ugh!” she muttered, thoroughly grossed out.
Now that she was inside, and no longer dazzled by the sunlight, she saw with a sudden shock of fear that the walls were covered with crawling insects. Closing the door behind her, she saw more of the insects on the back of the door, and correctly identified them as cockroaches. When she looked back at the floor, she noticed that roaches were also swarming over many of the piles of poo. She almost flung the door open again and bolted – she had always harboured a great fear of cockroaches.
Taking another step closer to the toilet, she furrowed her brow as she tried to work out why the pile of poo heaped over the bowl looked as if it were moving. Then she jumped back suddenly when she realised the explanation: the pile was moving because its surface was absolutely heaving with maggots! Even the tall poo-mast on the top was crawling with several dozen of the little white creatures.
Kelly was by now on the point of throwing up. Somehow she was holding on, but she was not sure how much longer she could keep her breakfast down (she had eaten a very hearty breakfast prepared by her mother that morning, but had skipped lunch because of all the work that had yet to be done.
The main thing was to empty her bowels and get out of here. But she could not bring herself to take a dump on the floor – she was not that uncivilised! She would empty her bowels in the toilet bowl like a normal person, despite her current extraordinary circumstances.
Getting there without mucking up her dress would be a challenge, though. She stepped carefully among piles of poo until she stood before the toilet, whereupon she hoisted her dress up around her waist, gathering it all together until she could hold it with one arm. Then she carefully reached down with her other hand, and tugged her white satin panties down to mid-thigh.
She had been intending to stand in front of the toilet and squat over it, but now she realised that this would be problematic. A large mound of poo sat in front of the toilet, right where she had planned for her feet to be. In order to position her bottom over the toilet, she was going to have to straddle it, with her feet on either side of it. But with her panties around her thighs, there was no way she was going to be able to do that. She would have to take her panties off.
Trying to pull her shoes through the leg holes, she realised, would increase the risk of getting her panties messy, so she wiggled her left foot until it came free of her left shoe. Immediately a sludgy mix of urine and mushy poo started pouring into the empty shoe, quickly filling it and then covering it completely. Within seconds the shoe was completely buried and invisible.
Balancing on one leg, Kelly carefully lifted her left leg, pulling her panties down over her knee and then holding the left leg hole wide open while she gingerly pulled her foot through it. She started to lose her balance and, having cleared the leg hole, quickly put her foot down again. It missed her shoe by a foot, and landed squarely in the middle of a large pile of poo, into which it sank seven inches or so. Kelly squealed in horror as she felt poo sliding up between her toes. She hastily tugged her foot free – it was covered with poo now, along with her ankle and lower calf. Fighting down a desire to throw up, she put her foot down again, this time in a merely ankle-deep mixture of urine and mushy poo.
She did the same thing with her right foot, and this time managed to avoid any deep piles. With both of her shoes now buried, she saw no point in putting them back on right away, and turned instead to the toilet. The sight of all of that poo, piled so high and seething with maggots, suddenly made her retch. Vomit surged up her gullet, and she instinctively whipped her hand up to her mouth, then away again as she realised it was holding her pristine white satin wedding panties. There was no way she was going to get those messy! They had been bought especially for tonight, and for Theo.
As it happened, only a little vomit made it into her mouth. Even though the floor was so disgusting, her high standards of personal hygiene and her ingrained sense of propriety would not let her spit it out on to the floor. But there was certainly no room in the toilet. Screwing her face up, she swallowed it back down.
She turned around and started backing up towards the toilet. Spreading her feet apart as she approached it, she slowly and carefully positioned her legs either side of the overflowing bowl. Unfortunately, piles of poo surrounded the toilet on all sides, and she did not want to step in any of it, so she found herself stretching her legs even wider apart as she manoeuvred herself over the very middle of the bowl (and the summit of the mountain of poo).
She began to lower herself towards the poo mountain, bending her knees and keeping her thighs pointing outwards in almost opposite directions. She had been able to do the splits until about five years ago, and could still almost manage it, though not quite. Her thigh strength was still good, fortunately, and so she was able to lower herself quite slowly without undue effort.
Something touched her between her legs, and she looked down, startled. Her stomach churned as she saw that it was the single tall poo sticking up from the top of the mountain. It was nudging against the opening of her vagina, as a maggot crawled up to its tip. She was utterly disgusted, but she really wanted to get lower before she defecated, so that she could be sure that her poo would stay on top of the mountain and not fall off on to the floor. As bad as this place was, she did not want to be like the people who came in here and crapped on the floor.
She shuddered and closed her eyes as she continued to lower herself down, and the maggoty poo started to slide up inside her vagina. She could not bear to watch – it was too gross for words! Yet the sight of it was nothing compared with the sensation of the poo entering her, complete with its cargo of writhing maggots. It was so disgusting – her stomach was threatening to expel its contents at any moment.
The poo was far from being a uniform thickness all the way down. An inch or so below its tip was a thick, bulging section, which her vaginal opening began to expand to accommodate. This was slightly uncomfortable, and she pressed herself down a little harder so as to get past the wide bit quickly. Despite how grossed out she was that this revolting, maggot-ridden poo was entering her (and she was sure that she could feel the maggots wriggling inside her), she was relieved when the bulgy part popped inside her.
The next couple of inches were narrower, and she quickly lowered herself down this section. She was almost to the point where she wanted to stop and empty her bowels, when she reached another wide part. Her vaginal orifice began to expand again, and she paused, trying to decide whether she should back up a bit and defecate, or attempt to get past this new wide section.
She was not quite as low as she would like, she decided. Gritting her teeth, she impaled herself still further on to the poo, and her vagina dilated even wider than it had for the first bulge. Millimetre by millimetre the new bulge slid into her vagina, forcing her open to an uncomfortable width. She was now hovering just above the poo mountain, at a point where she would like to empty her bowels, but for the moment she was more concerned with getting past the bulge and relieving the discomfort in her stretched vaginal opening. She pushed herself down further.
Unfortunately, however, the widest part of the bulge was still a little ahead of her, and the downward pressure she was exerting on the poo now exceeded the forces holding it in place. Slowly the knobbly poo began to sink into the poo mountain as Kelly descended, and did not enter her any further.
Kelly realised what was happening, and stopped lowering herself down. At that moment, she felt a tickling on the underside of her arm, and she hastily twisted her arm around so that she could see beneath it. A couple of cockroaches were making their way towards her wrist at great speed. She squealed in panic, and tried to shake them off. One of them fell, while the other reached the palm of her hand and disappeared into the folds of the panties she was holding.
She shook her panties back and forth, trying to dislodge the horrible insect, but in holding on to it too gingerly she accidentally lost her grip on the garment, and it dropped from her hand, falling on to the pile of poo in front of the toilet.
“Fuck!” she muttered under her breath. She supposed she should consider herself fortunate that her panties had fallen only on the poo pile, which was reasonably dry, rather than into the mixture of urine and poo-mush beyond. She decided to leave them where they were for the moment – she had other things to concentrate on.
Turning her attention back to the problem of the poo inside her, she decided to try pushing down on the knobbly poo with a sudden, sharp movement – perhaps this would get her past the bulge better than lowering herself slowly and steadily. She raised herself up until her vaginal opening was an inch above the bulge, then she quickly lowered herself by two or three inches.
It almost worked. The poo sank a little further into the mountain, but her vagina was now dilated even wider than before, so she must have made it further down on to the bulge. She raised herself back up for another attempt, and pushed down sharply. This time she did not make it quite as far. Next she tried a few thrusts in quick succession, bouncing up and down on the poo as it thrust in and out of her. She soon realised this was not going to work, but she continued bouncing for a few more thrusts anyway, since it actually felt rather nice…
Then she stopped, horrified at herself. What was she thinking? Taking pleasure from having a turd – and someone else’s turd at that – inside her? That was just sick! She shuddered, and made a resolution – no more bouncing! No matter how interesting it felt.
She decided that pushing down forcefully and steadily was the solution – just push down until she felt the widest part of the poo pop inside her. Taking a deep breath – which almost made her choke, the air was so foul in here – she sat down hard, letting gravity drive her vagina down on to the poo. It sank quickly ahead of her, descending through the poo mountain as her thighs hit the surrounding poo and started squishing it downwards.
Her pussy and buttocks connected with the poo mountain and started to press down into it. She could feel the knobbly poo pushing slowly deeper and deeper inside her, and felt sure that she was almost at the widest part of the bulge now. Lifting her feet off the floor, she continued to sink towards the level of the toilet’s rim, as the poo she was displacing squished both forwards and backwards, rising up behind her buttocks and in front of her pussy. Some of it spilled over the front of the toilet, chunk after chunk landing on top of Kelly’s panties where they had fallen.
By now Kelly’s thighs were resting on either side of the ceramic rim, and still the bulge in the knobbly poo was stubbornly resisting her attempts to force it inside her. She lifted her knees up high, bringing them around in front of her, and her bottom began to sink actually inside the toilet bowl. The compacted turds of who knew how many people were sliding between her pussy lips and buttocks, licking her clitoris and anus disgustingly as she sank. Poo surged up around her middle, passing her navel and heading up towards her sternum. At this point her dress, which she had been pulling higher and higher up her torso, was in serious danger of getting messy. She reached back over her shoulder and fumbled with the zip, trying to lower it enough so that she could get the dress up and over her head.
She succeeded, and, her feet kicking uselessly in the air, struggled to take the dress completely off. At last it was clear of her head, and she bundled it up into a loose wad. It occurred to her that she was never going to get out of this toilet bowl without the use of both hands, so she would have to put the dress somewhere safe in the meantime. Her eyes lit upon the washbasin on the other side of the room, and she carefully took aim. She had one shot at this – she had to score a direct hit, otherwise the result would be disastrous.
Narrowing her eyes, she moved her hand forwards and backwards experimentally, to be sure of her aim, and then, biting her lip anxiously, she threw the wadded-up dress. It unfurled in mid-air, partially wrapped itself around the front of the basin, and then slid gracefully off, landing in a heap on the floor. In the soup of urine and poo-mush.
“Fuck!” Kelly shouted, furious with herself. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
Her beautiful dress! So white and gorgeous and clean and new and … and now it was soaking up urine and getting stained with poo. Well that was just terrific! Her lower lip trembled, and she stifled a sob. Whatever would Theo say? How would she explain this to him?
Then the pragmatic side of her took over. There was no use crying over spilled milk. She still had to get that damn poo inside her, and it was still resisting all of her efforts. As she sank deeper and deeper into the toilet bowl, her torso and legs folding up until her knees were approaching her shoulders, she decided that she would probably achieve her goal once the lower end of the poo hit the ceramic wall of the bowl.
She noticed that the poo around her had almost reached her bra, so she quickly removed it. This time her throw was more accurate, and the bra landed perfectly in the middle of the washbasin. Now why couldn’t that have happened with her dress?
She wiggled her bottom deeper into the poo, working it closer to the base of the toilet bowl. Then she almost grinned as she felt the poo inside her vagina starting to push harder into her, and with a satisfying, silent pop, the bulge slipped inside her. It was a relief to feel her vaginal opening contracting to a more comfortable inch or so in diameter.
Now naked and with no clothes to worry about, Kelly hesitated only a moment before placing her hands upon the rim either side of her and pushing downwards to extricate herself from the bowl. It was not easy, but slowly, with a series of unpleasant fart-like sounds caused by the sudden release of suction, she managed to work herself free.
She climbed off the toilet and stood up in front of it. Her torso below her breasts was covered in streaks and small chunks of poo. Her pussy and buttocks were coated with poo, and her upper thighs were pretty messy too. Glancing down, she saw that her panties had disappeared, completely buried under the newly enlarged pile of poo in front of the toilet. “My panties!” she exclaimed in distress.
A considerable depth of poo had been heaped up on top of them, and Kelly did not fancy shoving her hands into it in order to retrieve her panties – what she really wanted was a little trowel or scoop that would let her remove the poo while minimising her own contact with the vile stuff.
Then it occurred to her that she did have a scoop … of sorts. Stepping over to the washbasin, she retrieved her bra, sighing as her poo-covered hands dirtied her one remaining clean item of clothing. Still, what was the point of having a clean bra if everything else was covered with poo?
She went back to the pile of poo beneath which her panties were lying. Holding on to either side of the left cup of her bra with both hands, she shoved it deep into the heap. Scooping up a large quantity of poo, she then did the same with the other bra cup. This was enough, fortunately, to expose more of her panties. Reaching down with an expression of distaste, she took hold of a piece of the filthy material between her finger and thumb. As she tugged it, though, she quickly realised that there was still a considerable weight of poo on top of her panties. This would require both hands.
Rather than put her bra down in the muck on the floor, she decided she might as well put it back on. She did so, her breasts squishing into the mounds of poo in both cups as she fastened it behind her. Some chunks of poo dropped out of the bottom of the cups and landed on the floor, while others oozed out of the top and climbed a short way up Kelly’s ample breasts.
She now turned her attention back to her panties, and took hold of one side of the waistband. She screwed up her face as she grasped another protruding part of the satin material, and hooked her finger around it. Then she straightened up slowly, pulling her panties upwards with two fingers curled around opposite sides of the panties’ waistband.
Her panties slowly came free from the pile, but they were absolutely full of poo. The back was so full that it was sagging under the weight of it. More poo lay along the gusset, including a yellowish turd that was especially maggot-ridden. Still more was lodged in the front. Whimpering unhappily, Kelly stepped gingerly into the leg-holes of her overloaded panties, and slowly pulled them up. As she tugged them into place with an expression of deep disgust on her face, some of the poo in the back slipped between her buttocks, nuzzling against her anus. The knobbly poo in her vagina was forced deeper, pressing into her cervix while three inches or so still remained outside her. The yellowish poo pressed into the groove between her labia, and she immediately felt dozens of maggots writhing against her clitoris. In truth, others were also writhing around both buttocks and against her anus, but her clitoris, being more sensitive, was more noticeable. She shuddered and retched, but managed not to throw up.
The yellow poo slid back and forth against Kelly’s clitoris as she went over to retrieve her dress. With a heavy sigh, she picked up the expensive garment and opened it out. To her surprise, it was mostly still white, although a large area on the back was dark from where it had been soaking up the poo-urine mixture. She put it on, and zipped herself up. Then she gasped as she felt rapid movement between her dress and her skin, in various places around her torso and on her legs.
It was one thing to see a cockroach on her arm and flick it off – having dozens of them swarming beneath her clothing was quite another. She squealed and slapped ineffectually at her dress wherever she could feel movement. Then a cockroach dashed out of her cleavage and she yelped, staggering backwards while trying to flick it off.
Her foot caught in a pile of poo and, in trying to recover, her other foot slipped out from under her. She fell backwards with a cry of anguish, and splashed down on her back, her fall cushioned by mush and urine and several randomly distributed piles of poo. One of the largest of these, fortunately, absorbed the impact of her head, which sank several inches into it before stopping just a fraction of an inch from the hard floor.
Once she had got over the shock of the landing, however, Kelly turned her attention back to the roaches scampering around beneath her clothing. She swatted at them desperately, but even when she managed to catch hold of one through her dress, she found it impossible to crush. Rolling over on to her front, she hoped to squish them beneath her. Urine and poo mush surged into her cleavage, filling the space between her torso and her dress. Perhaps this would drown them, she thought to herself optimistically.
But the tickling continued, and as she rolled over on to her back again, writhing and kicking her legs, her dress rode up to her middle, now devoid of white anywhere, inside or out. Then she stopped, trying to force herself into calmness. The roaches had not bitten her, as far as she could tell. She was overreacting, and it was not getting her anywhere. She was stronger than this – she could, if she really wanted to, just lie here while the roaches crawled all over her skin.
She tried it. Nothing awful happened – just those unpleasant crawling sensations, and the knowledge that they were caused by cockroaches. One of them crawled up to her ear, and she slapped it away. Well at least she could do that.
Sitting up, she looked over at the toilet. The poo mountain was no longer visible. Most of it was now lying in heaps on the floor around the toilet, having been expelled from the bowl as her bottom settled into it. This bothered her – she did not want to leave this toilet in a more disgusting state than she had found it, otherwise she would be as bad as – or worse than, even – the people who had come in here and crapped on the floor.
She had to get some of that poo back into the toilet bowl. Standing up and walking over to the toilet, she grabbed a couple of handfuls of poo from the pile in front, and dropped them into the bowl. After three repetitions of this, however, she realised that this would take forever. She needed to transfer a lot more than two handfuls at one time.
Sitting back down and crossing her legs, she tugged her dress over her knees and started pulling piles of poo into her lap with her hands. Soon she had built a nice big heap, which she figured would make quite a difference to the level of poo in the toilet. The trick was how to get it in there.
She found she could not get up while holding on to her dress with both hands – the poo weighed a lot, and she would need to support herself with one hand on the floor while she got to her feet. Shifting her right hand more to the middle, she put her left hand down into the mush while she untucked her legs and started to get up.
She was halfway to her feet when disaster struck. One hand holding out her dress in front was not enough to contain the huge heap of poo – abruptly her dress collapsed either side of the line between her hand and her navel, and the poo slid off to left and right. Kelly scowled in frustration.
Then she had another idea – why not use her panties? They could hold quite a lot, and they would mostly stay up by themselves as long as there was not too much poo in them. Kelly slipped her dress off again and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor beside the door. She went over to the toilet, turned around, then stepped backwards carefully into the large pile of poo in front. Her feet sank to mid-calf, and she shuddered once again as she felt the poo squishing between her toes. She squatted over the toilet, then pulled her panties down, tipping out their contents. Large chunks of poo fell into the toilet bowl, including the maggoty yellow poo, which she was most happy about.
But now she had to re-fill her panties. Thinking quickly, she figured out the easiest way of doing so. Stepping over to a large pile of poo, she pulled her panties down to mid thigh and then lay down on the floor, with her bottom next to the pile. Her back and head squished into other, smaller piles, but she was so messy anyway that it hardly seemed to matter.
Lifting her legs up to the vertical, she shuffled her bottom to the right until it was directly in front of the pile, and her pussy was squishing into the poo on its lower slopes. Then she reached up, grabbed her panties, and tugged them downwards, pulling out the back of the waistband as she reached the pile of poo. Carefully she pulled her panties down the far side of the pile, then she dragged the waistband back underneath the pile, thus collecting nearly all of it in her panties as she pulled them into place around her bottom. For good measure, she then held open the front of her panties with one hand while with the other she grabbed some more poo from a nearby pile and started piling it on to her pussy. When there was a decent heap there, she let go of her panties and they snapped against her abdomen, trapping the poo inside.
Turning on to her side in order not to squish all of the poo out of her panties, she carefully got up on to her hands and knees, and then stood up, clutching both sides of her panties so that they would not fall down. Waddling over to the toilet, she squatted over it as before, and pulled them down, tipping out their contents.
Looking down into the bowl, she was satisfied to see that she had made quite a difference already. She went over to another pile, and repeated the process. This time, once she had filled her panties, she piled some more poo on to her chest, reasoning that her bra-clad breasts would prevent much of it from falling off once she stood up – especially if she leaned backwards a bit.
On her third trip, she was startled by a knock on the door. “Are you all right in there?” came her mother’s voice.
Kelly was in the middle of stuffing poo into the front of her panties. “I’ll just be a few minutes!” she said. “I got a bit messy…”
“Oh no! Is your dress all right?”
“No,” said Kelly regretfully, looking across at the crumpled brown wad of material next to the door. “I’m afraid the dress got a bit messy too.”
“Oh heavens!” exclaimed Pamela. “Well do you think you’ll be able to get it clean?”
“Not really,” said Kelly, truthfully enough. She started piling more poo on to her chest. A cockroach in her hair now decided to run down her face. She swatted it away, getting poo on her nose in the process.
“Oh dear! Well we’ll wait for you, obviously, but please try to be quick. If we don’t leave very soon, we’ll be late. Do you need any help?”
Kelly thought about this. An extra pair of hands would be nice … but she really did not want her mother seeing her like this. “Could you send Carrie and Faith?” she asked.
“Oh – sure,” said her mother.
Kelly was emptying out her panties into the toilet bowl when there was another knock on the door. She looked down into the bowl and frowned – as it got more and more full, she seemed to be making less and less progress. She pulled her panties back up and paddled over to the door, her feet squishing into poo with each step. She unlocked the door and cracked it open.
“Ugh!” exclaimed Carrie, wrinkling up her cute little nose at the smell. Then she saw Kelly, and gasped in horror. “Kelly!” she shrieked. “What on Earth?”
“Oh my God!” cried Faith. “Kelly, you’re all … disgusting!”
“I know I know,” said Kelly, ushering them inside quickly. “Come on in.”
“Eww!” squealed Carrie as her open-toed, high-heeled shoes sank, along with much of her feet, into three inches of urine and mushy poo. Fortunately her dress was only calf-length and remained out of the muck.
“Ugh! Oh no!” wailed Faith as her shoes also sank into the thick layer of filth on the floor. “Kelly, this is the most horrible toilet I’ve ever seen!” Then she turned to stare at her older sister. “Where’s your dress? And why are you all covered in…”
Kelly sighed. “My dress is ruined,” she said, pointing at the heap of soggy brown material on the floor next to them. She explained to them everything that had happened since she had first set foot in the restroom.
“Ugh, how horrible!” said Carrie. “So you have a turd actually … inside…?”
Kelly nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting. I can feel the maggots wriggling…”
“Eww stop!” said Faith, putting her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear about it!”
“So what do you need us to do?” asked Carrie. She took her responsibilities as a bridesmaid seriously, and was prepared to help out her friend on her special day, even if it meant spending some time in this revolting room.
“I just want to fill the toilet back up again,” said Kelly. “When I sat in it, a lot of the shit came out. I don’t want to leave this room in an even worse state than when I found it.”
“Makes sense,” said Carrie, nodding.
“But it’s taking forever,” said Kelly, “and we’re running out of time. I was hoping you too could help me fill it.”
“What, by filling our panties with shit and dumping it out in the bowl?” asked Faith incredulously. “Are you crazy?”
“Of course we’ll help,” said Carrie sharply, glaring at Faith. She started to unzip her pale green bridesmaid’s dress. “I don’t want to get any messier than I have to, though.” She pulled her dress up and over her head. Then she laid it carefully over the washbasin. “Eww – are those cockroaches?”
Kelly shivered, and nodded. “Yes, and they’re the main reason my dress got so filthy – I’m afraid I kind of freaked out when I felt them crawling all over me.”
“Understandable,” said Carrie.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Faith grumbled as she took off her own dress. She laid it on top of Carrie’s, and tugged both dresses experimentally to make sure neither was likely to fall off.
Carrie chuckled as she looked at Faith’s bra. “Looks like that thing will hold as much as your panties,” she said.
“Shut up,” said Faith, turning red. “I can’t help having big boobs.” Unlike Kelly, she was not proud of her breasts, which were even larger than Kelly’s, even though Faith was the shorter sister.
“She’s just jealous,” said Kelly with a smile.
“True,” admitted Carrie ruefully, looking down at her own B-cups. She and Kelly laughed, and even Faith grinned.
“All right – let’s get moving,” said Carrie. She kneeled down next to a large pile of poo, and started stuffing handful after handful into the back of her panties.
“There’s a quicker way of getting a lot in there,” said Kelly. She lay down on her back next to another pile, and demonstrated the technique she had devised.
“Ugh!” said Carrie. “Well I hadn’t planned on lying down in this mess, but … if you say so…”
“You can’t expect me to do that!” protested Faith, staring in horror as Kelly engulfed almost the entire pile in her panties and then pulled them up. “My hair!”
“Kelly’s hair is already messy,” Carrie pointed out, “and she’s the bride.” She took off her bra, revealing her small but very pretty breasts, and placed it on top of the dresses.
Muttering rebelliously to herself, Faith took her panties off, crouched down, and started dragging the back of the waistband beneath a large pile of poo. Soon she had filled her panties, and all without having to lie down. She grinned as she stepped back into them, but her grin faded as she pulled them up and her pussy squished into the poo. Looking rather unhappy, she waddled over to the toilet bowl, then stared distastefully at the piles of poo around it. She did not want to step into all that poo just so that she could squat over the bowl. Then another idea occurred to her, and she stepped up on to the rim of the toilet with one foot. Immediately she realised that her high heels would not allow her to stand with any security on the slippery rim, so she withdrew her foot and kicked off both of her shoes. Putting one bare foot back on the rim, and launching herself off the floor with the other, she managed to plant both feet on opposite sides of the bowl. Then she turned so that she was standing astride the toilet, squatted down low, and pulled down her panties to empty them out.
Meanwhile, Carrie had laid herself down next to a large pile of poo, following Kelly’s example. She had taken her panties off and now had her legs in the air and spread wide apart, so that she could pack poo from nearby piles between her legs. Soon she had built up the pile in front of her into a huge mound completely covering her pussy. As she pulled her panties back on, she tried to capture as much of it as possible. Then, struggling to her feet, she made her way over to the toilet and, kicking her shoes off as Faith had done, stepped into the thick pile of poo in front of the bowl so that she could turn and squat over it.
Having emptied her panties, she stuck her hands into the mushy urine-and-poo mix in order to find her shoes. It took her only a few seconds. Deciding she might as well leave them off, she took them over to the door and put them down on top of a small pile of poo. Then she took her panties off again, and turned to larger pile nearby. She shuddered with disgust as she saw that it was seething with a greater density of maggots than on any pile she had yet seen. Crouching down and putting her hands back on the floor behind her to support herself, she spread her legs wide apart and slowly eased her pussy into the front of the pile. Poo squished between her labia and moulded itself around her clitoral hood. As she continued to slide forwards, burying her pussy in the huge mass of poo, the hood was pushed back so that poo started rubbing directly against her clitoris. Supporting herself with just one hand behind her, she put her other hand around the far side of the pile and pulled it towards her, further mashing the poo against her pussy and causing it to spread over her upper thighs and up her abdomen. Then she lay down on her back and stuck her legs up in the air so that she could get her panties on.
Kelly was emptying out yet another panty-load into the toilet. She glanced across at Faith, and found herself feeling rather resentful that her sister had so far managed to stay relatively clean. Her bra, for example, didn’t have even a speck of brown on it. “Hey Faith,” she said. “Carrie was right – maybe you should use your bra as a container.”
“All right!” said Faith, scowling as she unclasped her bra and slipped it off. She used the cups to scoop up a couple of good-sized mounds of poo, then she put it back on, pulling a face as her nipples sank into the poo. Then, after packing some more poo into her panties, she stepped into them and pulled them up again.
Five minutes later, there was another knock on the door. “How’s it going in there?” asked Pamela, sounding concerned. “We’ll be late if we don’t leave in two minutes!”
Kelly looked over at the toilet bowl. It was full, and they had built up a mound rising to three or four inches above rim-level, but it was still nowhere near as huge a mountain as it had been when she arrived. She sighed, and said loudly, “Mom, we’ll try, but I think this is going to take us more like twenty minutes.”
“Twenty? What on Earth are you doing in there?” demanded Pamela. The girls heard her try the door handle, and, to their surprise, it opened. Kelly had forgotten to lock the door after letting her bridesmaids in.
“Mom, don’t come in!” cried Kelly urgently.
Pamela had been about to step into the mushy mixture of poo and urine, but she hastily withdrew her foot as she covered her nose and uttered an exclamation of horror. “Kelly!” she shrieked. “Whatever are you doing? What happened to your dress?”
“Mom,” began Kelly, but her mother’s anguish was unstoppable.
“You’re ruining your wedding day!” wailed Pamela. “Whatever possessed you to do such a horrible thing?”
“Mom!” said Kelly. “Let me explain!” And she did so, at length, as her mother stared at her with widening eyes. Eventually Kelly said, “So that’s it – we’re just trying to get the toilet bowl filled to the level it was at when I found it, and then…”
“And then what?” asked Pamela, folding her arms.
“Uh, I don’t know,” said Kelly. “Try to get as clean as possible, I guess.”
“You won’t have time!” said Pamela sharply. “And you don’t have time to finish the job you’re doing, either! Come on girls, put your clothes on – we’re leaving!”
“But I really don’t want to leave this place in a worse state than I found it, Mom!” said Kelly.
“I understand that, Kelly, and that’s very commendable,” said her mother firmly, “but it really can’t be helped. If you like, we can come back here after the reception and finish the job.”
“Kelly can’t – she’s going off on her honeymoon!” said Faith.
“I’m sure Theo will let her have half an hour to do this,” said Pamela. “Now move it, girls!”
With a sigh, Kelly hoisted up her all-brown panties, which were overflowing with poo in both the front and the back. Then she carefully stooped and picked up her dress. She opened it out – a sodden, brown, poo-and-urine-soaked rag, and put it on over her poo-filled bra and panties. Tugging it down into place and straightening it out, she turned to her mother. “Sorry I got it so messy, Mom.”
“So you should be!” said Pamela. “Oh for heaven’s sake, though, do something about your chest. Your breasts are uneven!”
“My bra’s full of poo,” explained Kelly. “I suppose there must be more poop in the left cup than the right.”
“Then fix it!” said Pamela. “Get some more poop in the right cup – but quickly! Faith, looks like you have the same problem.”
Kelly carefully lay down on the floor on her side, and held her dress and right bra cup open while she shovelled more poo from a nearby pile into her bra.
“Good grief – you two are buxom enough without stuffing your bras with more shit!” said Carrie. “I’m going to look flat as a pancake by comparison!”
“Then get some nice big turds into your own bra!” said Kelly.
Carrie whimpered unhappily at this idea, but, having put her still-clean bra on, she sat down in a big pile of firm turds and started to scoop up handfuls of poo to put in her bra. Faith, meanwhile, was stuffing poo into both cups of her bra.
Kelly sat up, and realised that she had now filled her right bra cup to a far greater extent than her left bra cup. Frowning, she lay down on her other side and held open that cup while scooping more poo into it.
“Come on, come on!” Pamela urged them.
Faith, having finished filling her bra, hurried over to the washbasin. In her haste she slipped and, as she fell forward with a cry of alarm, she reached for the washbasin to stop herself. Unfortunately she missed the basin, but caught hold of her dress instead. Both it and Carrie’s dress were yanked off the basin and fell sprawling in the muck on the floor.
“Oh thanks a lot, Faith!” complained Carrie.
Pamela rolled her eyes. “At least you’ll match the bride. Come on – hurry up and get those dresses on.”
Kelly got to her feet and looked down at her chest. Her dress was stretched tightly around her enormously bulging bra, and poo was spilling out of her bra cups and cleavage to cover half of her chest.
“Not perfect,” said Pamela, “but it’ll have to do. Come on out of there.”
Kelly did not notice the nail on the doorframe as it snagged her dress. All she felt was a slight tug, and all she heard was a muffled ripping sound as she stepped out into the bright sunshine. Looking down, she cried out and stamped her foot in frustration. “Mom!” she said. “I just ripped my dress!”
“Oh Kelly!” said her mother exasperatedly. “You know, if you didn’t like the dress, you might have said so in the shop…”
“I love the dress!” said Kelly. “I didn’t mean to rip it!”
“Well we can’t have you walking down the aisle with a big hole in your dress,” said Pamela. “And I don’t have my sewing kit with me – nor do I have time to sew it up even if I did have it!” She looked at the horizontal gash in the fabric appraisingly. “If we continue that tear, it may just go all the way around,” she said. “We’ll just turn your wedding dress into a wedding minidress.”
“It’ll be extremely mini!” said Kelly, alarmed at the thought.
“Do you have any better ideas?” asked her mother politely.
“No,” said Kelly sullenly.
Pamela bent down and started pulling at both sides of the gash. Sure enough, the waste-soaked material parted easily enough, following the horizontal lines of the fabric all the way back to the seam, and all the way around the front, the far side, and back to the seam from the other side. She fished in her purse for a small pair of scissors, which she used to cut through the seam. “There!” she said.
“Oh God,” muttered Kelly. The dress now stopped only halfway down her panties at the front. At the back, it simply draped itself over the top of the massive quantity of poo which was threatening to make her panties fall down at any moment. Then she had a sudden thought. “My shoes!”
“Where are they?” asked Pamela.
“Buried in all the muck somewhere near the toilet!” said Kelly.
“I’ll get them!” said Carrie.
“Thanks Carrie!” said Kelly gratefully, as she waddled very slowly and carefully back to the car. The poo inside her slid gently in and out, and she shuddered, trying not to feel pleasure. In this she was not very successful.
Her father stared at her incredulously as she approached. His jaws worked silently for a moment, and then he said simply, “What happened to you?”
“Long story,” said Kelly, getting into the back very slowly, and kneeling on the seat so that she would not squish all of the poo out of her panties.
Faith came next, and she too took up a kneeling position in the back, next to her sister. Then Pamela and Carrie came over together, Carrie holding Kelly’s shoes in one hand while clutching the waistband of her overloaded panties through her dress.
Kelly took her shoes gratefully – they were full of poo, of course, and when she slipped her feet into them, the poo was forced out on to the floor of the car.
“Well don’t leave that stuff there,” said Pamela. “This is an expensive car – we don’t want to mess it up any more than necessary.”
Kelly nodded, and reached down to pick up the fallen poo. There was no more room in her panties or bra, so she simply mashed it into her upper chest.
They soon pulled up outside the church, and word quickly spread that the bride had arrived. The organ began to play the familiar notes of “Here comes the bride.” Shocked faces watched as Kelly walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, and Theo’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw his poo-covered bride approaching. She really was quite a sight – plastered from head to toe with poo, and wearing a brown dress that did not even cover her panties. Her right hand was holding on to her bouquet; her left was behind her, gripping her waistband to prevent her panties from falling down. She grinned at Theo apologetically as she drew near.
“What the hell happened?” he hissed as quietly as he could, as she reached his side.
“Hush – I’ll explain later,” she whispered back. “Sorry about the mess!”
Theo glanced at Carrie and Faith, who were also very messy, though not as filthy as Kelly. He raised an eyebrow at Carrie, whom he knew quite well, but all she did was utter a little giggle and shake her head.
The pastor, a white-haired gentleman in his seventies, stared in disbelief at Kelly, blinking repeatedly as if he were sure he must be seeing things. When Theo cleared his throat, however, the old man shook himself and raised his trembling hands in the air. “We are gathered here today…”
As he droned through his introduction, Kelly felt an uncomfortable pressure in her rectum, and it suddenly occurred to her that in all of the time she had spent getting messy in the restroom, she had totally forgotten to empty her bowels. She winced as the pressure grew more intense, and she contemplated relaxing her anus and letting nature take its course.
Well, she reasoned, her panties were full of poo anyway. What difference would it make, except for a little more volume? So she relaxed, and pushed … and soon a thick, firm turd was sliding inexorably out of her anus. It was wide, and painful – she grimaced and spread her feet slightly apart as she pushed harder.
She shifted her left hand leftwards, and reached back with her right to grab the right-hand side of her waistband, while still holding on to her bouquet. She bent forward a little, sticking her bottom out as the thick, lumpy poo emerged inch by inch from her anus. It had nowhere to go, so she lowered her panties a few inches and let the poo start to curl up on top of the enormous pile already in her panties. Then she lowered her panties a little more, since it felt like there was a lot more poo to come.
Pamela rolled her eyes and shook her head as she watched the column of poo descending from between her daughter’s buttocks and piling up on the huge and grotesque mass of poo below. She glanced around at the assembled congregation – friends, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins on both sides – and her stomach clenched to see so many horrified faces among them. Oh well – they would get over it. This was Kelly’s special day, not theirs.
Along with the rest of the congregation, she watched as Kelly finished her poo, a couple of minutes later, and then bent forward to look back between her legs at the new mountain of poo that she had just created. As her pussy hove into view, Pamela recoiled at the sight of the thick turd sticking out of Kelly’s vagina. From the sudden gasps behind her, she guessed that just about everyone else could see the same thing.
Kelly pulled her panties up until her buttocks and pussy squished into her fresh poo, and then she stood up straight. “I do,” she said.