Harmony Kline fidgeted nervously. This was a very big day for her, and she was anxious not to blow it. She gulped as the door opened and her intimidating boss, Richard Cannon, entered the room and greeted her with a curt nod. He was followed by the even more intimidating president of the company, Mason Harding, who smiled at Harmony as he sat down.
“Miss Kline, I’ll come straight to the point,” he said. “The HAL conference is very important for this company. It’s a chance for us to raise our brand’s profile in the business community, to network with clients, and to see what we’re up against in terms of our competition.
“Dick tells me you’re brilliant, and I’m sure that’s true. Your redesign of the Cerebrum interface was very impressive, and I enjoyed your YouTube presentation on recursive functions. But YouTube videos are one thing; presentations to a room full of industry elites are another. Are you sure you’re up to that challenge?”
“Absolutely!” replied Harmony. “I’ve rehearsed it until I know it backwards, and I’m not entirely unfamiliar with doing presentations to large groups. I’ll do the company proud, I promise you.”
Mason looked pleased. “Glad to hear it!” he said. “I had intended to go with you, but I’ve got to be in Hong Kong tomorrow morning. Fortunately the organisers are live-streaming the conference, so I’ll be able to watch it while I wait for my plane.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to Harmony, who shook it gratefully. Then he turned and walked out of the conference room, followed by Richard, who gave Harmony a thumbs-up as he left.
Harmony heaved a sigh of relief. She looked at her watch; it was currently nine forty-five. The conference was already underway, but she was only expected to attend the afternoon session, which was due to start at two o’clock. Her presentation was scheduled for two-thirty. It would take her an hour and a half to get there, so in theory she could afford to wait until noon or so before leaving, but she did not want to run the risk of being delayed by traffic, or a breakdown, or an accident, or anything else. Best, she thought to herself, to leave early and spend a little time in Newtonfield. Perhaps she would even do some shopping.
With Richard’s permission, she left the office shortly after ten o’clock. She had been on the road only a few minutes, however, when she felt the telltale discomfort of a large poo trying to force its way out of her rectum. “Ugh, not yet,” she muttered to herself. “I can wait until I get to the hotel.” She squeezed her buttocks together, clenched her anus tightly shut, and gritted her teeth until her bowel gave up the struggle and relaxed.
Forty minutes later, however, her bowels were almost screaming at her. Sweat broke out on her brow as she tried to keep her poo inside her. After a few minutes of this, she realised she was not going to be able to make it to the hotel before she lost control.
“Damn it!” she gasped. She started looking out for places that might have a public toilet, but she was driving through the countryside at the moment, and opportunities were likely to be scarce.
Eventually, unable to hold it in any longer, she pulled over and parked on the grass at the edge of the road. She got out, closed the driver’s door, and looked around anxiously for a bush or something of similar size to squat behind, but on her side of the road there was only a wire fence with a freshly ploughed field beyond it. On the other side of the road, a shallow bank led down into a stretch of marshland.
Harmony’s poo was already emerging from her tired anus. Biting her lip, she hastily hiked her navy blue skirt up around her waist and squatted next to her car, letting her poo slither out rapidly into her stretchy white panties. It was such a relief to get rid of it that she uttered a small sigh of pleasure. Her panties bulged downwards, sagging towards the asphalt, as the mass of poo inside swelled to the size of a grapefruit.
Whoosh! A cyclist passed by, barely three feet from Harmony. She was so surprised that she clenched her anus shut, stopping the flow of poo. Then another cyclist whizzed by, followed by another. She thought she heard the third one laughing.
What the hell? she thought. Looking over her shoulder, she was dismayed to see a veritable army of cyclists approaching. All were dressed in brightly-coloured, professional-looking Spandex outfits, with helmets to match, and all rode professional-looking racing bikes.
As the main pack of them reached her, Harmony, feeling highly embarrassed, tried to resume pooping, but her awareness that all of these cyclists could see her bulging panties made it hard to relax.
Then one of them pulled off the road and braked to a halt just behind her. “Are you okay, lady?” he asked, barely suppressing an amused smile.
“Yes, thank you!” said Harmony sharply, her cheeks turning bright red. “Just trying to finish my poo.”
“All right then,” said the cyclist. “But are you aware there’s a gas station about a mile up ahead? I’m sure they have a toilet you can use.”
“Really?” said Harmony. “Bother! I wish I’d known that.”
“You’re English?” said the cyclist. “I like your accent.”
“Thank you,” said Harmony shortly. “Now please continue on your way; this is very embarrassing.”
“Sure,” said the man. “Well, enjoy the rest of your poop!”
He set off again. By this time all the cyclists had passed. Harmony could feel there was more poo to come, but now that she knew there was a toilet close by, she figured she might as well finish it there. She stood up, tugged her skirt down over her bulging panties, and got carefully back into her car.
She was anxious not to squish her poo, in case it leaked out of her panties and ruined her skirt, so she braced her back against her seat and managed to drive without sitting down fully. It was awkward, and rather tricky, but two minutes later she reached the gas station and pulled up outside its shabby-looking convenience store. Grabbing her purse, she climbed out of the car and headed inside.
There was no sign of a restroom, so she approached the counter. A rather overweight man in a grubby, once-white t-shirt was sitting behind the counter, watching a small television. Harmony was shocked to see that the zipper of the man’s shorts was open; sticking out of it was his erect, uncircumcised penis, which he was clutching and gently massaging with his right hand. Harmony suddenly realised that he was watching a pornographic movie.
“Um, excuse me?” she said, trying not to look as shocked as she felt.
The man looked up in surprise. He stopped masturbating, but he did not put his penis away. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Can I help you?”
“I just need a bathroom,” said Harmony.
“You lookin’ to take a bath?” inquired the man.
“A restroom,” Harmony clarified.
“There’s one out back,” said the man, “but it’s pretty filthy. Your nice clothes’ll get ruined if you go in there.”
Harmony sighed. “Well it’s not like I have much choice,” she said. “This place appears to have the only public restroom for miles around.”
“Suit yourself,” said the man with a shrug. “But if you want to keep your clothes clean, you should probably leave them in here before going back there.”
Harmony gulped nervously. “Is it really that bad?”
“Hey Archie, guess who just found a fuckin’ meteorite in his field ... oh, hey there!” said a dishevelled young man with a scraggly beard, as he entered the store. He looked Harmony up and down with interest. Another man, taller and relatively clean-shaven, though equally dishevelled, entered behind him.
“Hey guys,” said Archie. “This pretty little thing wants to use our restroom.”
“Ugh, why?” said the bearded man. “Have you seen it?”
“No,” said Harmony, “but your friend says it’s filthy.”
“That’s an understatement,” said the taller man. “You’re gonna get all kinds of shit on you if you go in there.”
“Well that’s no good!” said Harmony in dismay. “I have to represent my company at an important conference this afternoon! I can’t afford to mess up my clothes.”
“Then take ‘em off and leave ‘em with me,” said Archie. “I’ll look after ‘em until you get back.”
Harmony swallowed nervously. “That’s very kind of you,” she said. Her cheeks reddening, she started to unbutton her jacket while Archie and his friends watched with interest. “Um, a little privacy please?” she said, feeling rather uncomfortable. “I’m not used to taking off my clothes in front of strange men.”
“‘Privacy’,” chuckled the bearded man, mimicking her pronunciation. “Nice accent. Are you from Australia?”
“England,” said Harmony. “I moved here six years ago.”
“Come back here behind the counter,” suggested Archie. “It’s as private as you’re going to get in here.”
Harmony approached the counter, then walked around it until she was standing in front of Archie. She placed her purse on the counter, then she took off her jacket and laid it next to the purse. “Um,” she said, “just to warn you, I did actually do a little bit of poo in my panties just before I got here.”
“I thought I smelled something!” said the bearded man, peering over the counter at the back of Harmony’s skirt. “I assumed it was just from the restroom outside.”
Harmony unbuttoned her blouse. As she took it off, she glanced down at Archie’s lap, and noticed with a shudder that he had resumed masturbating.
Archie grinned as he stared hungrily at her bra. Clearly he was looking forward to seeing her breasts. Harmony felt rather uncomfortable as she unfastened her bra and slipped it off her shoulders, the cups falling away from her breasts and exposing her nipples to Archie’s lecherous gaze.
“Whoa!” said Archie’s clean-shaven friend. “Nice rack!”
“Awesome boobs!” agreed Archie, now pumping his erection with considerable vigour.
“Damn, my phone’s in the truck,” said the bearded man. “Rusty, gimme yours.”
“Huh?” said the taller man. “What for?”
“Photos!” said the bearded man.
“Oh!” said Rusty. “Well I can do that.” He pulled out his phone.
Feeling very ogled, Harmony tried not to whimper as she unzipped her skirt and pulled it down. She kicked off her shoes as she stepped out of it. The bearded man, who was the only one in a position to see her panty-bulge, gasped in amazement. Beckoning frantically to Rusty, he said, “Phone!”
“What now, Dale?” snapped Rusty, who was busily photographing Harmony’s naked breasts and panties.
“You should see how much shit she’s got in there!” said Dale.
“I eat a lot of fibre,” Harmony explained, feeling more embarrassed than ever.
“Well let’s see, then,” said Archie. “Turn around.”
Harmony placed her shoes and skirt on the counter with the rest of her clothes, then she turned away from Archie so he could see the bulge in the back of her panties. “Believe it or not, there’s more to come,” she confessed.
“Really? This I’ve got to see!” said Dale.
“Oh – I might as well save the rest for your restroom,” said Harmony.
“Trust me,” said Rusty, “it would be better to do it here. You’ll want to spend as little time as possible in that place.”
Harmony shuddered. “How bad can it be?” she said.
“You’ll see,” said Archie. “Rusty’s right though – you should finish your poop here.”
Harmony grimaced. “All right,” she said. She squatted slightly, and strained. After a moment, her anus expanded, and another thick turd began to extrude into her panties. Watched with fascination by the three men, the bulge grew steadily larger, soon reaching the size of a small melon.
And still it grew. A few seconds later, Archie said, “Hold it – some of it’s about to come out of ... uh-oh.”
Harmony gasped as a large chunk of poo landed with a damp thud on the floor. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry!” she said, clenching her anus shut. “I’d better stop there – there doesn’t seem to be any more room in my panties!”
“There’s more to come?” said Rusty incredulously.
Archie grabbed a nearly-empty pitcher of lemonade from the counter, lifted it to his lips, drained it, then handed it to Harmony. “Take off your panties and finish off in this,” he said. “Dale can hold it for you.”
“Like hell I will!” said Dale. “That’s a pretty small target; what if she misses and it goes on my hand?”
“Don’t be a wuss,” snorted Archie. “The target’s plenty big enough – you’ll just need to be careful.”
“Why not set it down on a chair?” suggested Rusty.
“Because there’s only one chair and I’m using it?” said Archie. He was still clutching his penis, but he was no longer tugging on it.
“Aww c’mon, wouldn’t hurt for you to get off your ass for a few minutes,” chuckled Dale.
“Um, you could always set it on the floor,” suggested Harmony.
“If you’re squatting over it on the floor, none of us will be able to see if it’s about to overflow,” said Dale. “I know it seems unlikely that you’ve got that much left in you, but you never know.”
Archie, grumbling to himself, got to his feet and slid his chair over to Harmony. He took the pitcher from her and set it on the chair, then he said, “Okay, go ahead.”
But the top of the pitcher was at waist height for Harmony. “It’s too high,” she observed.
“Why don’t you climb on the counter and squat over it?” suggested Rusty.
“I suppose that would work,” Harmony admitted. “All right then.” She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, and carefully lowered them. She managed to extricate first her left leg, then her right, without getting any poo on them. “What should I do with these?” she asked.
“Just put them on the floor,” said Archie, masturbating furiously as he stared wide-eyed at Harmony’s naked, clean-shaven pussy. “I’ll have to mop it anyway.”
Harmony lowered her panties carefully to the floor, then, now naked, she climbed on to the counter. Facing away from the chair, she adopted a frog-like pose, with her hands planted in front of her, and her bottom overhanging the edge of the counter, her anus positioned approximately over the pitcher.
But Archie said, “No, no, you’re likely to miss the pitcher that way. Your ass is way too high above it. Turn around.”
“How’s this going to work?” asked Harmony, puzzled, as she shuffled around to face him.
“Feet apart, hands back on the counter behind you, stick your ass between your feet and over the edge,” instructed Archie. “Then your poop will be just above the pitcher when it comes out of you, especially if you rest your tailbone on the edge of the counter.”
“Coccyx,” said Dale, coming around behind the counter to get a better view.
“Huh?”
“That there’s the technical scientific word for the tailbone,” explained Dale.
“Good to know, Professor,” said Rusty, rolling his eyes as he came behind the counter to join Dale.
Harmony tried to adopt the position Archie had suggested, but it was not easy; even when she leaned back with her torso at forty-five degrees to the counter, she could not get her bottom far enough forward without her heels slipping off the edge. She kept moving her feet further and further apart, and spreading her thighs wider and wider, but it was not until her thighs were practically doing the splits that she was able to get her anus over the edge of the counter. This position was rather uncomfortable, and exceedingly indecent: she was acutely aware that the three men were all staring intently at her pussy.
Archie stepped forward so that his engorged penis, which he was still pumping madly, was just inches from her labia. “Perfect,” he said. “Now go ahead and finish your poop.”
Harmony strained, but the rest of her poo was reluctant to emerge. “I don’t suppose you could all turn around?” she asked. “I’m finding it hard to relax enough; I’m not used to defecating with an audience.”
“Oh, sure,” said Archie. He turned his back on her, and Rusty and Dale reluctantly followed suit.
This worked. Now that she was not being so blatantly ogled, not to mention masturbated over, she found herself able to relax her anus. Her bowels contracted, her poo started moving, and her anal sphincter flowered open. She pursed her lips and strained hard.
As a thick, lumpy, dark brown turd started sliding out of her rectum, Harmony exhaled heavily. “Okay, it’s coming out now,” she said. “You can turn back around.”
The three men eagerly did so, and Archie shuffled in even closer than before, the tip of his erection barely an inch from her pussy as he frantically worked its shaft. Harmony stared in a mixture of disgust and fascination as the rhythmic stretching and loosening of the man’s pink foreskin alternately revealed and concealed the purplish glans beneath.
Her poo curved downward as it lengthened, its tip descending into the pitcher. When it reached nine inches or so, it broke off and dropped with a thud into the container. More poo continued to emerge from Harmony’s anus, however, as she grunted and strained.
“Ahh ... ahhhh ... AHHHH!!” Archie groaned as he climaxed, spurting several long sticky ropes of semen all over Harmony’s labia and vaginal opening.
“Ugh!” exclaimed Harmony, unable to move either of her hands for fear of toppling over. “Could you get that stuff off me please?”
“So sorry,” said Archie. He tucked his penis away, zipped himself up, then started wiping his semen around Harmony’s pussy with his bare fingers. This merely gave her labia and clitoris a liberal coating of sperm, rather than removing any of it.
On the other side of the chair, Dale had by now taken out his own erect penis, and was energetically pumping it while holding it close to Harmony’s pussy. Then, when Archie stepped back from the chair, Rusty took his place, unleashed his own erection, and began to masturbate too.
“Goodness, anyone would think you’d never seen a naked woman before!” Harmony said with a nervous laugh, as the tips of both penises, approaching from opposite sides, came within half an inch of her labia. She was a little anxious that they, too, would climax all over her pussy, but she could not help feeling somewhat flattered at the attention.
Archie, holding up his phone, stepped behind Rusty and took up a position on the other side of the chair. “Say cheese,” he said. Harmony gave him a slightly fretful smile as a second poo fell into the pitcher, and the phone flashed.
“You won’t put this on the internet, will you?” she asked him, as he switched to video and filmed the newest turd currently coming out of her anus.
He shrugged. “I probably will,” he said. “But don’t worry – it’ll just get lost among the millions of other videos out there. Nobody you know will see it.”
Harmony nodded. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. She strained again, and her third turd broke off and fell on top of the first two. Poo continued to descend from her anus into the pitcher, softer now and flowing more quickly. When the receptacle was approaching two-thirds full, Rusty groaned loudly, and, resting the head of his penis against her labia, ejaculated all over her pussy.
The pitcher was over three-quarters full when Dale reached his own orgasm. Pressing the tip of his erection against Harmony’s vaginal opening, he spurted most of his semen inside her, only a little leaking out around the circumcised head of his penis. He wiped it on her labia.
“Ugh, did some of that go inside me?” said Harmony, aghast. “I’m not on the pill, you know!”
“Sorry,” said Dale. “I guess I just got a little over-excited. Want me to try to fish it out?”
“Yes please!” said Harmony. She shuddered as Dale slid two fingers into her vagina and started feeling around.
Rusty, having put his penis away, was now taking photos with his phone while Archie captured some video of Dale gently sliding his fingers in and out of Harmony’s vagina. He zoomed in, and noticed that the semen trickling down between her labia was being pushed inside her with each thrust of Dale’s fingers. Then he panned down to where yet more poo was slithering out of her anus.
“Whoa, hold it!” he said. “Any more and the pitcher will overflow!”
Harmony pinched off her poo. “I don’t think there’s much more to come, but I’ll just do the rest in your toilet.” She carefully climbed down from the counter, taking care to avoid the chair and her poo-laden panties lying on the floor. “Um, do you mind?” she said to Dale.
“Oh, sorry,” said Dale, pulling his fingers out of her vagina.
Harmony stooped and gathered up the sides of her panties, pulling them apart and very gingerly stepping into them, one foot after the other. She pulled them up her legs until the huge mass of poo squished against her buttocks. “Okay!” she said, picking up the pitcher. “Time to check out this notorious restroom of yours.” Then, noticing her purse on the counter next to her clothes, she picked it up too – she did not particularly want to leave it with strangers.
“Wait,” said Rusty, bending down and picking up the turd that had fallen on the floor. “What about this one?”
“Ugh – well there isn’t any more room in the pitcher,” said Harmony.
“Just tuck it into her undies, at the front,” said Archie.
“Okay, yes,” agreed Harmony reluctantly, and she pulled open the front of her panties.
Rusty reached into her panties with the poo, and pressed it against her pussy. It squished into her labia and clitoris, and he began to slowly rub it around. “There you go,” he said, sinking his middle finger through the poo and stroking her clitoris briefly.
“Er, thanks!” gasped Harmony, as Rusty withdrew his hand and wiped his messy palm and fingers on the outside of her panties.
“Good luck!” said Dale. He walked with her to the door and opened it for her.
“Thanks,” she said. Naked but for her poo-filled panties, she walked out into the parking lot, where a middle-aged man was filling up his car at the pump. His jaw dropped as he stared at her.
“Hi,” she said, with a little embarrassed laugh, before hurrying around the corner of the building, her melon-sized lump of poo bouncing around in her panties with each step. The weight of it was causing her panties to descend, and, since her hands were full, she hastily clamped her wrists against her hips, pinning the sides of her panties in place.
Back in the store, Rusty grimaced at the smears of poo on his hand. “Gross. I need to wash my hands,” he said.
“Go right ahead,” said Archie. “You can use the employees’ restroom.”
“Thanks,” said Rusty, and he headed towards an unmarked door at the back of the store.
The restroom outside was a small, rather ramshackle wooden building with a single door that appeared to be hanging on by just one hinge. Setting down her pitcher of poo, Harmony carefully pulled the door open while retching on account of the appalling smell emanating from within.
The buzzing of flies was intense. Picking up the pitcher and stepping into the gloom, Harmony gasped as her bare foot sank into six inches or so of a squelchy substance that she assumed, from the smell, must be poo. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed in dismay. “Yuck! Looks like they weren’t kidding about this place!”
Switching on the light, she gasped as it illuminated a wall-to-wall landscape of poo. There were hills, valleys ... even a mountain of about five feet in height. Harmony stared at the well-defined turds sitting on its summit. “How would anyone even get up there to do those?” she wondered aloud.
Her first instinct was to back hastily out of this horrible restroom, clean her foot on the grass, retrieve her clothes from the store, jump in her car, and get as far away from here as possible. But if she were to simply drop her poo here on the floor and run away, she would be as guilty as those who had made such a mess of this place to begin with. She could not even fathom the mentality of people who would come in here and indiscriminately defecate on the floor. The toilet, wherever it was, was completely buried – what sort of person would contribute to that? Even the washbasin, which was still visible, was filled up to the taps with poo.
As disgusted as Harmony was by the horrible state of this place, she was determined not to make it any worse by sinking to the level of those who had been here before her. She was better than that. She would find the toilet, wherever it was, and deposit all of her poo inside it like a normal, civilised person.
Then she noticed the cockroaches. Hundreds of them, scurrying over the surface of the poo, everywhere she looked. Her face paled; she had a strong aversion, bordering on a phobia, to certain kinds of bugs ... and cockroaches were very near the top of the list. As she realised she could feel them crawling up her legs, she nearly bolted out of the room in fear, but after taking a couple of deep breaths – which nearly made her choke – she steeled her resolve and pulled the door shut behind her. There had clearly once been a lock on the door; what was left of it was hanging by a single rusty screw.
Taking a couple of steps further into the room, she came to the first hill and stopped, peering at it closely. It appeared to be moving ... seething... Gasping in shock, she realised that it was absolutely heaving with white, writhing, wriggling maggots.
“Maggots?” she wailed. They were at the very top of her list. She gulped, and skirted around the side of the hill, which was almost three feet high – too big to step over. But wherever she looked, now that she was aware of their presence, she saw that there were maggots in abundance – a vast squirming sea of them, lying on top of the poo. The fact that they were mostly coated brown from the poo in which they were wriggling had concealed them from her earlier cursory glance around the room, but they were everywhere.
A cockroach ran up over her left breast and she shrieked, flapping at it with her hands and taking a wild step backwards. But her feet were stuck, and she found herself falling. “Oh no!” she squealed.
She landed on her bottom and lower back, her poo-filled panties partly squishing and partly sinking into the sea of poo. Cockroaches swarmed over her, and she screamed and brushed them frantically from her chest, face, and hair. With a mighty struggle, she turned herself over and got back on to her feet.
She inspected her panties. The poo inside was quite squashed, and for all she knew, some of it might have come out of her panties and become lost in the sea of poo. She hoped not, though – she was determined that all of her poo should go in the toilet. “Oh no, the pitcher!” she exclaimed.
It was lying on its side, but angled downward, and some of her poo had spilled out of it. She bent down and scooped it back in with her hand. “All right, Harmony’s poo,” she said grimly, “you’re getting quarantined!”
With her feet squelching disgustingly into at least twelve inches of poo with each step, she made her way carefully over to the washbasin. Planting the pitcher in the poo by her right knee, and her purse on top of it, she set to work scooping double handfuls of poo out of the basin. It did not take long to get it mostly empty, despite the fact that she had to keep stopping every few seconds to brush climbing cockroaches from her torso. She turned on the taps to finish the job, and was dismayed when no water came out. “Bother!” she exclaimed. “However am I going to get clean after all this?”
It was a problem that would have to wait. “First things first,” she muttered. She picked up the pitcher and her purse, and placed them in the basin, then she carefully lowered and stepped out of her panties. Placing them in the basin as well, she turned and began walking naked back across the room towards the poo mountain, beneath which, she surmised, lay the toilet. As she walked, she seemed to acquire more and more cockroaches, and she gasped as she felt one of them pushing its way into her vagina.
“Oh no you don’t!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand between her legs and retrieving the insect. She took another large step, into poo that was almost two feet deep. But freeing her back foot was not easy, and as she struggled, both legs became more and more mired. With her thighs spread apart, her vagina was exposed and vulnerable, and she had to dislodge a couple more cockroaches that were trying to get inside her.
It occurred to her that she would have to do something about this situation. Uncovering the toilet was clearly going to be quite a task; one which would take forever if she had to constantly fend off cockroaches. Either she would have to block their access somehow, or she would need to simply resign herself to having roaches inside her.
She knew, intellectually, that the insects were unlikely to do her any harm. They were not parasites, nor were they known for biting people, even defensively. And yet ... emotionally, the idea of having a cockroach inside her made her feel sick. The thought of it crawling around inside her body...
No! She came to a decision: she would have to block the entrance to her vagina. But with what? She had nothing with her except for her panties and the pitcher, both of which were currently employed as receptacles for her poo.
Poo, then, was the obvious answer. It surrounded her in abundance, and a nice fat turd would make an effective plug. It was other people’s poo, of course, and that made it all the more disgusting ... but was it worse than cockroaches?
Perhaps not, but the poo was all covered in maggots, and she did not want those inside her either. She sighed. One way or another, she was going to end up with something disgusting inside her. It was either going to be poo and maggots, or cockroaches. She really could not decide which was worse.
Then she had a clever idea. What if she performed a test, to see which would be worse? One cockroach, and one maggot. She could easily fish them out after the experiment. Whichever of them felt less horrible, she would reluctantly accept more of in her vagina.
Since she could feel a cockroach currently making its way from her anus towards her vaginal orifice, she decided she might as well start with that. As it reached her opening and pushed its way inside, her stomach churned in horror and she felt as if she might throw up.
“Oh god oh god!” she wailed as she felt it wriggling further and further up inside her. She realised she was hyperventilating, and she forced herself to calm down and take a few slow, deep breaths. The experience was horrible, invasive, unnatural, and felt so very wrong ... and yet, she realised, after half a minute of enduring the sickening crawling sensations inside her, she could tolerate it. If the maggots proved unbearable, she could if necessary put up with having cockroaches in her vagina.
At least, she knew she could handle just one. But what if more of them pushed her over the edge? Perhaps three, or four, would prove too much to handle. And so, when another cockroach tried to enter her, Harmony decided to let it. A moment later, a third roach crawled inside her, and it was soon followed by two more.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!” squealed Harmony, in a state of near panic. Her vagina was alive with the pitter-patter of scuttling feet, and each time she instinctively clenched her vaginal muscles, the roaches seemed to become more agitated in their movements. Yet, still, she was managing to cope with the sensations, even when three more entered her and joined the others in exploring her inner recesses. At this point she decided enough was enough, and clamped a hand between her legs.
Eventually the roaches’ movements settled down, and Harmony found she could relax a bit. She still felt the occasional stirring, but while it was a horrible reminder of the invasion of her body by disgusting pests, she felt she could handle it. If the maggots proved worse than this, she would settle for unrestrained invasion by cockroaches.
“Now for the maggots,” she muttered. She reached into her vagina with two fingers and felt around for cockroaches. They scurried deeper inside her to stay out of reach, but she managed to catch one of them. She pulled the wriggling insect out of her vagina and threw it away. Then she went back for more, but this time they were all too deep for her to reach. “Damn it!” she cursed.
They were hardly moving at all, now, so she reluctantly resigned herself to leaving them inside her for the time being. Now it was the maggots’ turn. She picked one up from a nearby mound of poo, and tucked it inside her vagina. She could feel a slight sensation of movement, but nothing like as intense as the roaches had been. Of course, the maggots were somewhat smaller than the cockroaches, and less active, so it was not really surprising.
Harmony picked up a few more maggots, and pushed them into her vagina with her fingers. Still the movement was far less intense than that of the roaches, so she continued to retrieve more maggots and tuck them inside herself. After a few minutes of this, her vagina was stuffed full of maggots. The sensation was now much more intense, but quite different from when the roaches were at their most active. It now felt like she was filled with a gently squirming mass, constantly seething, stimulating every part of the interior of her vagina at once.
She came to a decision. This was far preferable to the roaches. She started scooping maggots out, but many of them had been stuffed too deep inside her for easy retrieval, and since she was about to put more maggots in there anyway, she did not attempt a particularly thorough excavation. She looked around for a turd of the right shape and size to plug her vagina, and found a good candidate almost immediately. It was heaving with maggots, but since she already had plenty inside her, that did not seem to matter much. Placing the tip of the poo against her vaginal opening, she slowly began to insert it, along with its cargo of wriggling maggots. It sank deep into her vagina, stopping when it ran into the mass of maggots and cockroaches still inside her. Part of the turd was still sticking out; she forced it inside, and the poo within her pressed outwards, her vagina expanding to accommodate it all.
“There,” she said to herself. “That should stop any more roaches from getting inside me.”
Now she turned her attention to the mountain of poo. She now noticed it had two peaks, one a little higher than the other. She started to climb, sinking her hands and her feet into its flanks, until she had managed to reach the top. She sat astride the lower of the two peaks, shuddering as she slowly sank, and the poo of strangers slid between her buttocks and between her labia, caressing her clitoris. This actually felt rather nice, and she spent a few moments rocking back and forth, her arousal growing all the while. But then she shook herself back to reality. What was she thinking? She had a job to do here, and a conference to get to afterwards.
She dug her hands into the poo in front of her, and pulled out a large chunk, which she tossed to one side. Then she went back for another double-handful, and then another. Deeper and deeper she dug, flinging poo left and right, until the peak on which she sat partially gave way, and she slid down into the hollow she had created.
Resuming her work, she excavated more and more of the mountain ... but her progress was discouragingly slow. The deeper she dug, the broader became her digging surface, and the denser became the poo into which she was digging. It did not help that she kept having to stop to brush cockroaches from her face or dig them out of her hair, which was becoming very matted with poo.
She tried digging her feet into the poo and then levering larger chunks out, but this was tough to accomplish. At one point she stood up with her feet buried six inches deep, and leaned backwards, swaying from side to side as she tried to work a large piece free. It popped out suddenly; Harmony fell backwards, landed on a slope, and squealed as she tumbled head over heels.
She landed on her head, which sank deep into the soft poo at the base of the mountain. Gasping in panic, she sucked in a mouthful of poo and maggots, and when she tried to spit it out, she could not, as there was now a wall of poo in front of her mouth.
Fortunately, her momentum carried her legs over until they slapped into the sea of poo next to the mountain. Pushing down with her hands and knees, she got her head out of the poo with a sucking sound, followed by several spitting sounds as she frantically expelled the poo and maggots from her mouth.
“Oh ... my ... fucking ... God!” she wailed, very close to tears. Getting to her feet, she wiped poo from her face and brushed her poo-saturated hair back, plastering it against her scalp and down the middle of her back. Her whole body caked with poo, she climbed back up the mountain and continued to work away at reducing its size.
But her progress was slower than ever, and she was getting very tired when she heard a knock on the door. Nervously, she called out, “Hello?”
“It’s me – Dale,” came Dale’s voice. “What are you doin’ in there?”
“I’m trying to uncover the toilet so I can put my poo in it,” replied Harmony.
“Oh,” said Dale. “Well listen, me an’ Rusty an’ Archie are goin’ to see a meteorite. Archie’s locked up the store, so I brought your clothes out here. They’re in a bucket, to protect them from all the shit.” He opened the door and tossed in a large plastic bucket; it landed with a thud between two small poo hills.
“Thanks!” said Harmony. A bucket! That would help!
“Bye then,” said Dale.
Harmony scrambled down from the mountain and made her way over to the bucket. Walking to the door and opening it, she upended the bucket, dumping her clothes in a heap just outside the doorway. Then she returned, squelchy step by squelchy step, to the base of the mountain.
Even with the bucket it was hard work. She could not dig its lip in too deeply, or it became impossible to pull. She had to settle for scraping off a layer of poo three or four inches thick at each pass, which made for slower progress than she had hoped. But at least it was better than using only her hands.
About twenty minutes later, she heard voices outside. Male voices. A lot of male voices. Harmony felt a chill run down her spine; suddenly she felt very naked and highly vulnerable. As the voices approached, she tossed her bucket into a corner and looked about for a place to hide.
Behind the mountain was no good; she had already excavated it down to a height of less than three feet, and if they came in much further than the doorway, they would spot her crouching there. And then, finding her naked and covered on poo ... what would they think? What might they do?
The only other option was to bury herself. But did she have enough time? Sitting down quickly on the far side of the mountain, Harmony forced her legs down beneath the surface of the foot-deep poo, then she lay back and began scooping armfuls of poo over her torso. She could now hear what the men outside were saying.
“Where does all this come from anyway?”
“I asked that myself, when I started this gig. But he just said he was paying me to dispose of it, not to ask questions. And the money’s decent, even if the work isn’t, so I just keep my curiosity to myself.”
“But you must have a theory, right?”
“Maybe it’s from portable toilets – you know, like on construction sites.”
“There’s a state park near here – gets pretty busy in the summer. And no plumbing. Their toilets must get pretty full.”
“Yeah but look, Brian. We’ve got seven buckets of shit and one of pee. How would the shit and pee get separated if it came from a toilet like that?”
“Also, how come there’s no paper in with all the shit? Who are all these people who are shitting without wiping?”
“Hey, whose clothes are those?”
By now Harmony had covered her upper body with poo and was working it deeper into the muck. Her head was partially submerged; she now began forcing it down towards the floor. As her ears sank beneath the surface, the voices outside became muffled and impossible to understand.
Then the door opened. “Hello?” came an almost inaudible call.
Trembling with fear, Harmony pressed her head deeper. Poo oozed over her forehead, and she stopped, anxious not to lose her ability to breathe. If the men came over here, they might see her face staring up at them out of the poo ... but hopefully her face was smeared with enough excrement to adequately camouflage her.
She heard more muffled voices ... indistinct ... getting louder... Then a shadow loomed over her. Her eyes widening with alarm, she saw a man standing just a foot away. He was not looking at her. Harmony noticed that he was wearing long wading boots. He turned a bucket upside down, and a torrent of poo – partly soft, partly lumpy – poured out. Fortunately the man was not facing her, and the poo landed near to where her left hand was buried.
Then the man turned away from her. He was saying something, but she could not make out the words. Then, to her horror, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers. He squatted over her, and she saw his hairy anus opening up just a few inches above her face. A brown lump appeared in the middle; it grew larger, then came out and descended towards her mouth.
Harmony was too frightened to be disgusted. She realised immediately that if he covered her mouth and nose with his poo, she would suffocate unless she emerged from her hiding place and made her presence known. This was a terrifying prospect ... and so, when the descending poo reached her lips, she opened her mouth. As the man’s foul-tasting turd slid down over her tongue and pushed downward into the back of her throat, she began swallowing it as quickly as possible.
Six inches ... eight ... twelve ...eighteen ... the poo kept coming, and, with her eyes watering and her stomach threatening to rebel, she kept eating. And while she ate, she unconsciously recoiled from the invading poo, her head sinking deeper into the sea of faeces. She did not realise this was happening, unfortunately, until the poo surrounding her forehead oozed inward and rolled over her eyes, which she hastily shut.
Now the poo started flowing over her nose, too, but she forced herself to lift her head slightly at this point, and the encroaching poo stopped before it fully covered her nostrils. Blind, deaf, and cocooned in poo, Harmony’s sensory input was now limited to the stench and taste of poo, and the incessant wriggling of cockroaches and maggots in her vagina.
Twenty-four inches ... thirty ... thirty-six... Her stomach was now bulging with over a litre of poo, and she could take no more. She stopped swallowing, and a moment later, a foot-long turd broke off and flopped down on to the poo covering her forehead, its lower end deep in her mouth, nestling against her tonsils.
She was now fighting a losing battle with the urge to vomit. Beneath the poo, sweat broke out on her forehead. She held out for as long as she could. Seconds passed. More seconds. She retched, then froze in panic. Had they heard her? Was she about to be pulled from her hiding place?
Then, suddenly and horribly, she vomited. But her overwhelmed stomach had barely begun the process of attempting to digest her poo, and the sludgy excreta extruded slowly out of her gullet, filling her mouth and expelling the turd that was sitting there. Then it spilled lazily out of her mouth, covering her nostrils and cutting off her air supply. Once the vomit reflex had passed, Harmony swallowed rapidly to empty her poo-filled oesophagus, and struggled to sit up in order to breathe.
Spitting and gasping, she heaved herself out of the poo. Wiping poo from her eyes, she opened them stickily, and looked around in wild fear. But the men had gone; the door was just swinging shut behind the last of them. Harmony heaved a sigh of relief. The torment of eating all that poo had paid off.
She looked at the mountain of poo. It was now just a low, broad hill, maybe twice the height of the toilet it concealed. It occurred to Harmony that she did not need to excavate the whole thing; she just needed to dig a hole in the middle, working her way downwards until she reached the toilet bowl. Yet did she have time even for that?
Yes, she told herself grimly. She had not come this far, and endured so much, just to give up now. She estimated that it was currently some time between half past twelve and one o’clock; as long as she got out of here by half past one, she would have time to drive to the hotel, have a shower, and get to the conference in time for her presentation. Getting into the hotel while naked and covered in poo might be a challenge, but perhaps she could call ahead, reserve a room, and ask them to leave it open for her. Then she could hopefully sneak in via a back door, and make her way to the room unseen.
Retrieving her bucket, Harmony once again climbed the mountain. Its lower slopes were soft, and her feet sank deeply into them, but the wide, flattened summit was much more solid, having been packed down more densely by the weight of the poo that had sat upon it prior to her excavations. It was quite an effort to sink her hand into it, and even harder to dig into it with the bucket.
Nevertheless, she dug and dug, handful by disgusting handful, and in a little over ten minutes she had made a bowl-shaped depression about fifteen inches wide and a foot deep. As she paused for a brief rest, swatting flies away from her face, she heard more voices outside, and she groaned. She did not have the stomach to hide again.
However, these voices did not sound so threatening. In fact, they sounded like giggling teenaged girls. Then the door was pulled open, and the giggles gave way to gasps. “What the hell?” “Oh my God!” Two faces peered in, eyes wide as saucers.
“Hi!” said Harmony, feeling very embarrassed to be seen in such a state, but determined not to show it. “Welcome to the worst toilet in the world.”
Both girls stared at her, shocked. “What’s going on here?” demanded the older of the two. She looked eighteen or nineteen years old, had long, wavy, reddish-brown hair and a pretty, cherubic face, and was slightly on the plump side of perfect. Her ample bosom, however, undoubtedly made her popular with the boys. She was wearing a denim miniskirt and a t-shirt emblazoned with a wolf’s head and the words “Team Jacob”.
The other girl looked a year or two younger; her face was similar, but slimmer, and her build was overall more athletic. Her hair was also reddish-brown, but it was straighter and cut shorter. She was wearing a pretty peach-coloured sundress that stopped well short of mid-thigh, showing even more leg than the older girl’s denim mini.
Harmony was fairly sure that they were sisters. “I’m trying to find the toilet,” she explained, “so I can leave my poo in it. I don’t want to be like all the people who have turned this place into such a nightmare.”
The girls just stared at her.
“So, here I am ... digging a hole in this mountain of poo,” added Harmony awkwardly.
The younger girl turned away. “Mom! Dad!” she yelled. “You’ve got to come and see this!”
Uh-oh, thought Harmony. But she managed a smile as a man and a woman appeared in the doorway behind the two girls. “Hello,” she said, with a little wave.
“Jesus!” said the man. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing in there, young lady?”
“I’m trying to dig down to the toilet,” said Harmony. “I don’t want to just dump my poo on the floor like everyone else. I’m not an animal; I’m a civilised woman!” She said this last part with as much dignity as she could muster, given that she was naked, plastered from head to toe in poo, and sitting on top of a huge pile of excrement.
The mother coughed politely. “Well that’s very commendable, dear, but couldn’t you just have found a different toilet?”
“I was desperate!” said Harmony. “And this is the only one for miles around, apparently. I’ve no idea how far it is to the next publicly accessible toilet. I’m not from these parts, you see, and...”
“I’d never have guessed,” said the father, with a chuckle. “That’s quite the accent you have there.”
“Dad, I’m desperate too!” said the younger of his daughters. “Can I just poop on the floor from here?”
“No you may not!” said her mother, before her father could reply. “Do you want the English lady to think all Americans poop on the floor?”
“Aww but Mom!” said the anxious girl. “I’ll have an accident if I don’t go soon!”
“Then I guess you’ve got a choice to make,” said her mother. “Hold it in until we find somewhere else, poop in your panties, or get in there and help this lady ... what’s your name dear?”
“Harmony,” said Harmony.
“Pleased to meet you, Harmony. My name is Angie. This is my husband, Earl, and these are our daughters Jordan and Iris.”
“Nice to meet you all,” said Harmony. “I do apologise for my disgusting appearance, and my nudity ... but I think you’ll agree it was just as well I didn’t bring my clothes in here!”
“Very sensible,” said Earl. “But how did you get so ... covered?”
Harmony sighed. “Well, first I slipped off this mountain and fell headfirst into the poo,” she said. “Then later, I heard lots of men outside, and I got scared, and hid...” She explained in detail what happened after that.
“You ate all his poo?” exclaimed Jordan, aghast.
“Well not quite all of it,” said Harmony. “But most of it, yes.”
The entire family looked horrified. “You poor thing!” said Angie. “I can’t imagine how awful that must have been.”
“It really was awful,” Harmony acknowledged. “But if you’ll excuse me, I really need to keep digging. I’ve got to make a presentation at a software conference at half past two, and somehow I’ve got to finish up here, drive to the hotel, and get cleaned up and dressed before then!”
“You’ve got your work cut out then!” said Earl. “Good luck!”
“Thanks,” said Harmony, and she resumed digging.
“You’ll make faster progress with an extra pair of hands,” said Angie, kicking off her shoes. She pushed between her daughters and stepped into the sea of poo, hiking up her long dress around her upper thighs. For a woman approaching forty, she had very nice legs, Harmony could not help noticing.
“Mom!” shrieked Jordan. “What are you doing?”
“Angie!” said Earl. “Are you serious?”
“Eww, this is so disgusting!” gasped Angie, as she pulled her left foot free with a sucking sound, and then sank it into the poo in front of her. Then, “Oh help!” she squealed, as she felt cockroaches running up both of her legs.
“Mom! Look out for the roaches!” said Iris.
“I can feel them!” said Angie, slapping at her legs wherever she felt the tickling of blattodean feet. “Oh dear – I do so detest cockroaches!”
Iris was now kicking off her own shoes. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this!” she said, and she stepped forward into the poo, following her mother.
“Iris!” cried Jordan. “Not you too!”
“I need to poop!” snapped Iris. “And it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting to another toilet anytime soon, and I refuse to do it in my panties … so it looks like I have no choice but to help Mom and Harmony uncover the toilet!”
“Eww, how can you step in that stuff!” said Jordan in distress.
“Have you two lost your minds?” demanded Earl. “You’re going to get filthy!”
“Then it’s a good thing we’ve got a bath, a shower, and a washing machine at home, isn’t it?” said Angie matter-of-factly. She was now thigh-deep in poo, and had hiked her dress up around her waist, exposing her white full-cut panties. She tied her dress into a knot at her left hip, then extended her hand up to Harmony. “Can you help me up there, dear?”
“Sure!” said Harmony, taking her hand. “Wow, I really appreciate your help!”
Earl shuddered in disgust at the sight of cockroaches climbing up Iris’s legs. “Ugh, I can’t watch this!” he said. “Jordan and I are going back to the car. I suppose we’ll see the two of you when you’ve had your fill of this disgusting place!”
“Thank you for being so supportive, dear,” said Angie, as she scrambled up to the top of the hill with Harmony’s help. With no regard for the cleanliness of her panties, she sat down next to Harmony and began pulling out chunks of poo from around the rim of the bowl Harmony had delved.
Earl threw up his hands helplessly. “What do you expect me to do, Angie? Get in there and help you?”
“Why not?” said Angie. “That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”
Earl shuddered. “Oh for a spade, at least!” he said. “All right Angie, you win.” He took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trouser legs, and stepped into the poo.
“Dad!” exclaimed Jordan plaintively. She bit her lip, hesitated for a long moment, and then she, too, kicked off her shoes and followed her father into the room.
“Oh … oh!” said Iris in sudden panic. “The cockroaches are getting into my panties!”
“Yes, some have got into mine too,” admitted Angie.
“Yeah, they are a little over-friendly,” said Harmony. “I had to stuff my vagina full of poo in order to keep them out.”
Angie turned and stared at her. “That seems a little drastic!” she said.
Harmony nodded. “It worked though. No more roaches have got inside me since I did that.”
Angie gasped, and tucked her hand between her legs. “One of them just went inside me!” she cried. “Oh dear! Earl, I really think I need to do something to keep them out!”
“There must be a better method than the one Harmony employed!” said Earl. “I might be wanting some naughty cuddle time later!”
Harmony pulled off a chunk of solid poo from the edge of the bowl and fashioned it into a thick sausage. “Here,” she said to Angie. “This should work.”
Angie shuddered as she looked at it. Then she gasped. “Okay, another one just went inside me!” she said. “Disgusting or not, I need to plug myself up!” She took the sausage-shaped piece of poo from Harmony, then she raised one knee, pulled her panties aside, and with a grimace, began to slide the poo sausage into her vagina.
“Ugh, I can’t look!” said Earl, covering his eyes and peeking through his fingers.
“Mom!” squealed Iris in shock. But then her eyes bulged as she felt a roach crawling into her own vagina. “Oh no! I think I need one of those!”
“Ugh! They’re getting into my panties now, too!” wailed Jordan.
“It’s only a matter of time before they get inside you too, dear!” her mother cautioned her. “You’d better hurry up and get some poo into your vagina.”
Jordan miserably sank to her knees and looked around for a suitable-looking turd. She found one of the right shape, but recoiled at the sight of it. “Ugh, this place is crawling with maggots!” she complained. “Any turd I use is going to be full of them!”
“Mine wasn’t,” said Angie. “The top of this hill is pretty maggot-free.”
“Well I’m not going to put a stranger’s poop in my vagina!” said Iris adamantly. “I need to poop anyway, so I might as well use my own. And it won’t have any maggots in it!”
“You might want to do it in your panties, though, to keep it from falling into everyone else’s poo and getting maggots on it,” suggested Harmony.
Iris grimaced. “I really didn’t want to poop in my panties!” she said. “But I suppose it’s the lesser of two evils…”
“Agreed,” said Jordan, pulling up her denim skirt around her waist to reveal a pair of pink cotton panties. “I believe I’ll do the same.” She strained, and after a few moments, her anus opened, and a torrent of soft poo rushed out into the back of her panties, forming a large bulge in the flimsy material. She strained again, and a long rope of slightly firmer poo slithered out, looping back and forth beneath her buttocks and expanding the bulge. With a final push, she emptied her bowels with a series of soft, shapeless turds. The bulge in her panties, which was now resting on top of the sea of poo in which she was kneeling, was the size of a small melon.
“I wish I’d thought of that before putting someone else’s poop in my vagina,” said Angie ruefully.
“It’s not too late to replace it,” said Harmony.
“True,” agreed Angie. “Hold on, let me try to squeeze this thing out of me…”
Iris, meanwhile, was filling up the back of her panties with a couple of days’ worth of poo. She grunted and strained, pushing out more and more long, thick turds, until her white satin panties were sagging well below the hem of her little sundress. At this point they began to overflow, and chunks of her poo began to fall with squishy thuds on to the hilly poo terrain in which she was standing.
“Iris!” said her father sharply. “You’re pooping on the floor! Wasn’t the whole idea to avoid doing that?”
“Sorry!” said Iris. “There’s just so much!”
“Well pick it up!” said her father. “Don’t just leave it lying there.”
“And then what?” inquired Iris. “I don’t have pockets, you know.”
“Well you’re not using mine!” said Earl. “What about your bra?”
“There’s also your vagina,” said Angie. “You’ll need a good firm one for that.”
“Ugh, all right,” said Iris. She stooped and picked up one of her fallen turds. “Eww, it landed in a bunch of maggots! Now it’s covered in them!” She reached into the front of her dress with her clean hand, pulled open her right bra cup, and dropped the turd inside with a shudder of revulsion. Then she bent down again, picked up a second turd, and put it in her left bra cup.
“I suppose the next one will have to go inside me,” she sighed. “No more room in my bra.” But the next turd she picked up was even more maggot-covered than the first. “Oh God!” she wailed. She reached between her legs, pulled the gusset of her panties to one side, and began trying to push the turd into her vagina. But it was too soft, and merely squished against her opening without going in. “This isn’t working!” she said. “It’s too soft! I need to hold myself open with my fingers, I think ... but I don’t have enough hands!”
“Earl, help her,” said Angie.
“What?” exclaimed Earl. “I’m not going to push a poop into my daughter’s vagina, thank you very much!”
“Yeah that would be super-weird, Mom,” agreed Iris.
“Well don’t look at me,” said Jordan, who was rummaging around in the back of her panties, working her hand through the mass of soft poo in search of a turd solid enough to put inside herself. “I’m busy here.”
“How about if Earl just holds the poo steady, and Iris just sort of lowers herself on to it?” suggested Harmony, taking a short break from her digging. “Then at least he’s helping, without taking an active part in the process.”
“I guess we could try that,” said Earl doubtfully.
Iris regarded the squashed, maggoty turd in her hand. “I don’t think this one’s going to work,” she said, looking nonplussed.
“Just stick it in the front of your panties,” suggested her mother.
Iris sighed, nodded, and lifted up the front of her dress. Pulling her panties open, she dropped the maggoty poo inside. Then she bent down and picked up another turd. “Here, Dad,” she said, handing it to him.
Screwing up his face in disgust, he said, “Are you sure this one’s solid enough?” he asked.
“Well it’s not like I have a lot of choice,” said his younger daughter. “Hold it upright, and I’ll lower myself on to it.”
Looking very uncomfortable with the situation, Earl reached between Iris’s knees, holding the turd upright just a couple of inches above the surface of the sea of poo. Iris spread her thighs apart and squatted, and as she approached the tip of the turd, she stuck two fingers of each hand into her vaginal entrance, pulling it open. A cockroach clinging to her labia saw its chance and scuttled inside.
“Yuck!” exclaimed Iris. “Another cockroach just went inside me!”
“Uh-oh,” said her father. “Want me to try to get it out?”
Two more roaches crawled into Iris’s vagina. “Oh God!” she groaned. “Yes please – there are four in there now ... make that five. Get them out!”
With his clean hand Earl probed between Iris’s legs, seeking her opening with his fingertips. Then he sank two fingers into her vagina, and began feeling around.
Meanwhile, Jordan had been unable to locate a turd of her own that was solid enough to serve as a vaginal plug. With a contemplative expression, she picked up a thick, lumpy brown turd that was sitting on top of a nearby mound. Maggots were crawling all over it.
By now, three cockroaches had already entered her vagina. She had been surprised to discover that she actually did not mind the sensations of their hard little bodies exploring her most intimate areas. So she hesitated, poo in hand, while more and more cockroaches found their way into her panties, and she made no attempt to stop them as, one after another, they crawled inside her. Before long, her vagina was packed full of the scuttling insects. Only then did she carefully work the tip of the maggot-infested turd into her moist orifice; not to keep the roaches out, but to keep them in...
She pushed it in a couple of inches, but that was as far as it would go, thanks to the mass of roaches squirming inside her. She shivered, and squished the rest of the poo against her labia, massaging it into her pussy with a soft moan of pleasure as the roaches inside her scurried around, stimulating her in a way she had never experienced before. Tonight, she promised herself, she would release them all in her bedroom, and try to breed them over the coming days and weeks. If having a cockroach infestation meant feelings like this were possible, she could not wait to see them overrun the house.
“Well, it seems they’re all hiding deeper than my fingers can reach,” said Earl. “I can’t feel any of them.”
Iris shuddered as her dad withdrew his fingers from her cockroach-infested vagina. “Okay, well thanks for trying. Let’s just get that poop installed, to keep any more of them out.” As her father repositioned the turd between her legs, she pulled her vagina open as wide as she could, and lowered herself on to the turd.
“Ugh, yuck!” exclaimed her father with a pained expression, as the maggot-covered tip of the poo disappeared up inside his daughter. “This is so not what I had in mind when I suggested a family outing!”
The bottom end of the turd came to rest on the surface of the sea of poo. There Earl reluctantly held it steady as Iris tried to force her vagina down on to it. But it was not working; the turd was compressing and bending with no more than a couple of inches inside her. She tried bouncing up and down on it for a minute or so, and Earl nearly retched at the sight of it sliding in and out of her ... but the poo merely became even more misshapen and compressed.
“Hold it, wait, this isn’t working,” said Earl. “I think gravity’s working against us here. We’re trying to push something soft up into a tight space...”
“Well I’m not about to do a handstand!” said Iris. “I just know I’d end up with my head buried in all this poop.”
“No, but if you lie down and raise your knees to your chest, I think we’ll have more luck,” said her father.
“But I’ll get poop in my hair!” objected Iris. “And on my dress!”
“Is that going to be any worse than having it in your vagina?” asked her mother, who had removed her turd-plug and was now filling the back of her panties with her own poo, while more and more cockroaches invaded her unprotected vagina.
“Good point,” admitted Iris, “but if I take my dress off first, I can at least keep that relatively clean.” She hoisted it up over her head, rolled it up tightly, and placed it carefully on top of a nearby poo-hill. Then it occurred to her that if she lay down with her bulging panties on, half of her own poo would probably be squeezed out of them. With a sigh of resignation, she pulled her panties down, taking care not to spill any of their contents, and placed them on top of another hill. Now wearing only her bra, with a turd in each cup, she lay down in the valley between the two hills, whimpering with disgust as she felt squishy poo oozing up around her bare flesh. She raised her legs, bringing her knees up to her chest, and then, as cockroaches began to swarm all over her sinking body, she pulled her vagina open with her fingers. “All right Dad,” she said. “Fill me up.”
Earl regarded the squashed turd in his hand. “I don’t think this one’s going to be very useful,” he remarked. “It’s lost its shape.”
“Swap it with one from my panties,” said Iris. “Oh god – quickly please – more of them are getting inside me!”
While Earl was selecting a suitable turd from Iris’s panties, and swapping it for the squished one, a veritable army of scuttling brown insects was converging on the teenager’s vagina from all sides. They scurried over her hands, following her fingers down into the welcoming darkness of her moist interior. When Earl turned his attention back to Iris’s pussy, he saw only a seething mass of cockroaches, all trying to force their way into her roach-stuffed vagina.
“Oh,” he said, rather disconcerted. “It seems you’re already full.”
“I know!” growled Iris through gritted teeth. “I can feel them! Just get them out!”
Earl brushed away a few dozen roaches from Iris’s pussy, then he began scooping them out of her vagina. This was no easy task, for they were very quick and evasive, and more kept appearing all the time, but at a moment when he had just cleared a space inside her almost three inches deep, he seized his opportunity and plunged the turd he was holding into the gap.
“Got it!” he said triumphantly, letting go of the poo. The six inches of it that was still outside Iris sagged downwards, then broke off, leaving a half-inch stump protruding from her vagina.
“Thanks Dad,” said Iris gratefully. She struggled to her feet, cursing at all of the poo that was clinging to her legs, buttocks, back, and hair. She picked up her poo-filled panties, stepped into them, and pulled them up, then she retrieved her sundress, unrolled it, and put it back on.
Harmony and Angie were digging. Angie had finished pooping in her panties, but her vagina was now full of cockroaches, and they did not seem to be doing her any harm, so she was no longer feeling compelled to plug herself up with poo. Now she was focused on helping Harmony uncover the toilet, so they could all dump their turds into it.
Earl and the girls began helping now, too, and together they made steady progress. Angie exclaimed in triumph when her fingers hit ceramic, and then it was just a matter of scooping poo out of the bowl itself. In another five minutes, the toilet bowl was empty, though the S-bend was still packed with poo.
Earl, meanwhile, had been working to uncover the cistern – or at least the flush handle on its left-hand side. “Almost got it,” he reported. “Don’t put any poop in the bowl until we’ve cleared the blockage.”
Harmony bit her lip. “What’s the time?” she asked.
“It’s just after half past one,” said Jordan.
“Oh gosh!” said Harmony in alarm. “I have to leave right now! My presentation is in an hour, and I still have to get to the hotel, shower, and get dressed!”
“Good thing we’re nearly done then!” said Earl, scooping some poo out from beneath the flush handle. “There! Let’s give this a try.” He pressed the handle down. Nothing happened. “Uh-oh.”
“Oh no!” exclaimed Harmony.
“Don’t worry – Dad’s an excellent plumber,” said Iris.
“Yes, but I don’t have my tools with me,” said Earl. “I may not need them, of course, but I’ll have to open up the cistern to find that out.”
“I can’t afford to wait that long!” said Harmony. “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”
“We quite understand, dear,” said Angie. “Leave your poop with us; we’ll flush it away for you.”
“Thank you!” said Harmony gratefully, making her way toward the washbasin to pick up her purse.
“What if we can’t flush it, though?” inquired Jordan. “What if Dad can’t fix it?”
“Then we’ll just take Harmony’s poop with us,” said Angie, “and flush it away at home.”
“I really appreciate that!” said Harmony. “Goodbye ... and good luck!”
“Bye Harmony!” said Iris. “Good luck with your presentation!”
The others also bade her farewell, and she opened the door and stepped outside. But, to her horror, her little pile of clothes was not where she had left it. “Oh my God!” she cried. She looked around, but could not see them anywhere.
She stepped back inside the toilet. “Have you seen my clothes?” she asked desperately. “I left them in a pile just outside the door. Did you see them when you came in?”
“There were no clothes there when we arrived,” said Jordan. “Perhaps somebody took them.”
Harmony groaned. “I bet it was those horrible men who were here shortly before you!” she wailed. “Now what am I going to do?”
“Maybe you could call the conference people and tell them you had an accident,” suggested Angie. “It’s true, after all.”
“But my boss will kill me!” fretted Harmony. “I’ll be letting the company down!”
“Aha!” said Earl, finally getting the lid off the cistern. He peered inside, then cursed in disgust. “There’s no water in here!” he said. “It’s bone dry. And the valve’s open, so it seems no water is even coming into the building. That’s not something I can fix.”
Harmony groaned miserably. “So all this time and effort has been for nothing!” she said.
“It rather looks that way,” said Angie with a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Harmony.”
“Well this is just brilliant,” said Harmony, throwing up her hands in despair. “So now I’m naked, covered in poo, with no way of getting clean or dressed, and I have a presentation to make to a lot of important people in less than an hour!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “This was such a huge opportunity for me!”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Earl.
Harmony shook her head. “No,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll just call them from the car; tell them I’ve had an accident.”
“Well, we should probably take ourselves and our poop out of here,” said Angie. “Oh, but I really don’t want to take all of these cockroaches home. They’ll get loose and infest the house!”
“I can try and get them out if you like,” offered Earl. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to reach them all, though.”
“Not unless you put your whole hand in,” said Angie, with a little wince at the thought. “And it’s been so long since you last did that; I imagine it’ll hurt a lot.”
“Eww, Mom!” chorused Iris and Jordan, looking traumatised.
Harmony shrugged. “I could have a go if you like,” she said. “If I’m not going to the conference, it’s the least I can do since you’ve all been so helpful.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Angie, climbing down from what was left of the mountain. “That’s very kind of you. Yes, your hands are much smaller than Earl’s – I’m sure one of them would fit in me quite nicely.” As Harmony put her purse back into the basin and then walked over to the others, Angie lay down in a patch of soft poo, and quickly sank several inches into it. Raising her legs and spreading them wide apart, she pulled her hugely bulging panties to one side, revealing a scuttling mass of cockroaches gathered around her pussy and buttocks. They were most densely concentrated around her vaginal opening, which was overflowing with the insects.
“Goodness me!” said Harmony, a little taken aback. “That’s quite the infestation you’ve got there.”
“Yes,” agreed Angie, “and I’d prefer they didn’t escape into our house.”
“Right you are,” said Harmony, and she began pulling handfuls of cockroaches away from Angie’s pussy. Once she had cleared the area outside, she dipped her fingers into Angie’s very moist orifice and scooped out more roaches. Then, when she had retrieved as many as she could reach with just her fingers inserted, she tucked her thumb into her palm and began to push her whole hand in.
It slipped inside Angie’s vagina with very little fuss. The sensation was strange, and fascinating; Harmony curled up her fingers and rotated her hand this way and that, marvelling that her entire hand was now completely inside another woman’s body.
“Mmm, that’s kinda nice!” said Angie a little breathlessly, arching her back.
“Try not to enjoy it, dear!” said Earl rather severely.
“This is so weird,” remarked Iris, clearly repelled yet unable to wrest her eyes away from the sight of her mother being fisted by another woman.
Harmony, with a mischievous grin, began to gently thrust her hand in and out of Angie’s vagina. This elicited gasps of excitement from Angie, giggles and whispers from the girls, and throat-clearings of disapproval from Earl.
“Would you two like to get a room?” asked Earl politely, after a couple of minutes of this.
Angie, opening her eyes, had the grace to look embarrassed. “Uh, honey, maybe you should stop that,” she said to Harmony, a little regretfully.
“Okay,” replied Harmony with a grin. “Let me just get the last of these bugs out.” She felt around, and grabbed as many cockroaches as she could find inside Angie. She scooped them out and tossed them away, then went back in for more. On the third attempt, she could find no more. “That’s it,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Angie. “Now, if you’d be so kind, please stuff me full of my poop before any of those little buggers crawl back inside me.”
Harmony immediately spotted a problem with this plan: Angie’s bottom had by now sunk deep into the poo, carrying her poo-filled panties with it. And since her panties had been pulled to one side to allow Harmony access to her vagina, plenty of strangers’ poo had no doubt flooded into the back. Harmony stuck her left hand into the sea of poo and felt for the edge of Angie’s panties. “I’m not sure I can guarantee that whatever I pull out will be yours,” she said.
Angie shrugged. “Don’t worry then – just grab whatever comes to hand.”
Harmony nodded. She withdrew her left hand, then scooped up a handful of maggots, with some of the poo beneath. Removing her right hand from Angie’s vagina, she plunged her left hand in, pressing the mixture of maggots and poo up against Angie’s cervix. With her right hand, she now picked up a thoroughly revolting-looking, maggot-riddled turd, and as she withdrew her left hand from Angie, she shoved the turd deep inside the woman’s vagina. She repeated this process until Angie was stuffed with a tightly-packed mass of maggots and old, rancid, disgusting shit. “All done,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Angie, carefully getting to her feet. Her panties were sagging heavily; lumps were falling from them. “Oh dear,” she said. “I seem to be losing some of my poop.” She bent down and picked up a chunk. “I’m not sure if this one’s mine or not...”
“I don’t suppose it matters much,” said Earl, “as long as you take away from here as much as you brought.”
“Hmm,” said Angie. “What if we take away more than we brought? This place could surely use the help of some public-spirited individuals who are willing to do more than their fair share to clean it up.” She knelt down, and began stuffing poo indiscriminately into her panties. “I’m going to take away from here as much poop as I can carry. I suggest you all do the same.”
Earl shuddered. “No thank you!” he said. “I’m not filling my underwear with poop!”
“Girls?” said Angie. “Help me out here?”
“I’d be happy to,” said Jordan, “but my panties are already full.”
“You can tuck in your t-shirt, and then fill it up,” suggested Angie.
Jordan nodded, and started tucking her t-shirt into her skirt, which was still bunched around her waist.
Iris shrugged. “My panties are full too,” she said, “but I have nothing to tuck my dress into except for my panties, and I don’t suppose that will be very effective.”
“Tear a strip off the bottom of your dress,” said Angie. “You can tie it around your waist as a belt, and then fill your dress up via your neckline. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do, since I’ve already tied my dress off at the hip.” She began stuffing handfuls of poo down the neck of her dress.
Iris tried to tear her dress, but the material was too tough. “Dad, do you have your penknife on you?”
“Yup,” Earl replied. He fished it out of a pocket, and tossed it to her.
Iris caught it, opened it up, and carefully cut a three-inch strip off the bottom of her dress, rendering it too short to fully cover her panties – even if they were not bulging massively with her poo.
Cutting the ring of material at the front, she pulled it up to her waist and then, with a bit of a struggle, tied the two ends together. Now that her dress was pulled together tightly around her middle, she knelt down and began stuffing poo and maggots, as well as a few lucky cockroaches, into the low-cut neckline.
Harmony retrieved her panties from the washbasin and stepped into them. Pulling them up, she picked up her purse, then regarded the pitcher full of poo. She did not want to take it with her – it was not hers to take – but neither did she wish to dump it out. Without any clothing but for her panties, her ability to carry large quantities of poo was limited.
Then she came to a decision. She would be passing back this way; she would just borrow the pitcher for a few hours, and return it later this afternoon. “Well,” she said, turning toward Earl and his family, “thanks ever so much for your help.”
“You know,” said Earl, scratching his chin thoughtfully, “this hotel you’re going to – does it have bathrobes in the rooms?”
Harmony saw immediately where Earl’s train of thought was heading. “It might!” she said. “But ... I’m not sure that doing my presentation in a bathrobe would project quite the air of respectability that my bosses had in mind. Better than just panties, certainly, but not, I suspect, good enough.”
“What if you made it part of your speech?” suggested Angie. “Make the bathrobe a metaphor for the content of your presentation?”
Harmony’s brow furrowed. Then she brightened. “You know, that might actually work! Thank you!”
“You’d better get going then!” said Angie. “Good luck!”
Harmony headed for the door, opened it, and stepped out of the poo. Clamping the sides of her heavily-laden panties against her hips, she managed to keep them up until she had reached her car.
Opening the passenger door first, she threw her purse in and then placed the pitcher on the seat. Then she pulled down her panties, stepped out of them, and placed them on the seat in front of the pitcher, effectively holding it in place so that, hopefully, it would not tip over and spill its contents.
Naked, she ran around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. Retrieving her keys from her purse, she started the car and set off. Looking at the time, she whimpered anxiously. “Five to two!” she muttered. “This is going to be tight!”
Her rule of thumb for speed limits was to never break them by more than five miles per hour. Now, however, she pressed her foot down with unaccustomed zeal, hitting sixty in a forty-five zone while anxiously looking as far ahead of her as possible for any signs of police cars.
Then she caught a glimpse of herself in her rear-view mirror, and had the fright of her life. She looked like something out of a nightmare! Her entire face was brown and lumpy, and her hair was matted with poo. She looked horrible.
She hastily reached over and pulled a little pack of tissues out of the glove compartment. There were not many left, but as she drove, she used them as economically as she could, wiping every trace of poo from her face. Then she began to work on her hair, but had made little progress by the time she ran out of tissues.
She looked in the mirror again. Much better: she now looked like a human again, albeit a disgustingly filthy one. Oh well – a five-minute shower would help ... assuming she had five minutes to spare!
She pulled her phone out of her purse, and called the hotel to reserve a room. To her dismay they did not have bathrobes, but when the receptionist suggested she wrap herself in a towel instead, Harmony thanked him and said that yes, that would be fine. Then she asked if the room could be left open for her, and the receptionist replied that yes it could, but she should collect her keycard from reception as soon as possible. Harmony thanked him and hung up, feeling optimistic that she would be able to make this work.
But as she approached Newtonfield, her optimism was vanishing. “Come on!” she screamed at a red traffic light. The next light was red too ... and the one after that. With four minutes to spare, she finally saw the hotel, and she realised that while she could possibly still make it to the conference room in time for her presentation, there was absolutely no way she would be able to clean up beforehand. She would not even have time to fetch a towel to wrap around herself.
At this point, a strange madness overtook her. She gritted her teeth. “I came here to make a presentation, and I’m going to make it, damn it!” she muttered. “I’ll get as far as I can before they drag me out!” Somehow, she hoped, Richard and Mason would be impressed by her extraordinary dedication to her job in the face of extreme adverse circumstances. Perhaps she might even get a promotion.
She pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of her car. Running around to the passenger side, she opened the door, grabbed her panties, and stepped into them. Pulling them up, she shivered as her poo squished against her pussy and buttocks. Then she picked up her purse, laptop, and, as an afterthought, the pitcher of poo.
Shutting the door with her foot, she made her way as quickly as she dared to the front entrance of the hotel. Fortunately there was nobody on the door; just a receptionist at the desk as she entered.
“Hey!” said the startled young man, but Harmony had already spotted a sign for the HAL conference, and she was not inclined to stop for a chat. She hurried past the desk and trotted down a long corridor until she reached the conference room. Pausing outside the door, she listened. Somebody was talking.
“...excellent insights into the challenges facing companies too invested in their outdated systems. Next, we were due to have a presentation by a representative from Harding Software, but she appears not to have made it here...”
“Poo!” announced Harmony loudly, marching in with a slightly desperate smile. “Everything is poo!” She had intended to say something more conventional, like “Here I am” or even just “Hello”, but her brain seemed to have short-circuited.
A stunned silence fell over the room. There were over a hundred people here – a nice mixture of men and women, Harmony noted with momentary approval – and they were all staring at her with shocked expressions. Then a balding man, standing at the front of the room, said politely, “Excuse me, but I think you have the wrong room.”
“No I don’t,” said Harmony with a note of panic in her voice. “I’m the rep from Harding Software. I’m sorry about my appearance and the smell, but this is all part of my presentation.” She glanced at his name tag. “Please have a seat, Mr Studebaker.”
“Now look...” began the man.
“Take a seat!” Harmony commanded, with a pleading expression.
Ron Studebaker raised an eyebrow. “I’ll give you one minute to explain yourself,” he said, “and then I’m calling security.” He walked over to an empty chair and sat down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for having me,” said Harmony as she set up her laptop and plugged it into the projector. “My name’s Harmony Kline and I’m a software designer for Harding Software. You’re probably asking yourselves why I’m standing here nearly naked, covered in poo, and with a whole lot of poo in my panties.” She paused. “Shouldn’t you be asking your servers that question?”
Brows furrowed all around the room, and Harmony grinned anxiously. “Add-ins, bolt-ons, custom configurations, code hacks, upgrades, patches, compatibility fixes ... all add to the amount of poo cluttering up your systems. Your servers are full of it: redundant code, dead-end routines that run for no discernible reason at all ... even brand-new software comes stuffed with it. You all know what I’m talking about. Heck, as software developers we’re all guilty of contributing to it!”
She smiled with satisfaction as she scanned the sea of suddenly interested faces. She had them now. Then she noticed a camera mounted on a tripod at the back of the room, and remembered that this conference was being streamed live over the internet. Mason was probably watching her at this very moment. She gulped. “The poo metaphor is really quite extraordinarily apt,” she continued quickly. “Let me show you a particularly horrifying example of what I’m talking about. This is a code analysis we conducted on one of our biggest customers. To spare their blushes, I won’t mention them by name, but they are one of the nation’s top food distributors.”
She started her slide show, and glanced over at Ron. He looked grudgingly impressed, and gave her a little nod. She felt very relieved; he would apparently not be calling for security.
She rattled through the rest of her presentation, working in clever poo-related analogies wherever she could. When she got to the end, she said, “And that’s why we feel our services are so valuable. Any questions?”
Several hands went up, and Harmony picked one. It belonged to a white-haired man with an incongruously youthful-looking face. “I’m just wondering,” he said, “whether the same benefits could not be obtained from a more rigorous application of coding best practices on the front end. Would that not make more financial sense?”
“A fair question,” said Harmony, “but while the enforcement of best practices is always a good idea, it’s not going to eliminate many of the issues we see cropping up over and over again with our clients.” An amusing idea popped into her head, and she grinned. “Perhaps I could demonstrate this ... with the help of a volunteer?”
Several hands shot up.
“It may,” admitted Harmony, “get a little messy.”
Several hands were pulled back down.
Harmony laughed. “Oh come on,” she said. “If it helps, I booked a room here, whose shower I’m happy to put at the disposal of anyone brave enough to come up here and get messy.”
One hand went back up. This one was attached to an attractive blonde woman in her late thirties. She was wearing a knee-length black skirt and a casual green t-shirt. She wore her hair in a ponytail, and when she spoke, it was with a strong southern drawl that made Harmony think of True Blood.
“Hi there,” she said. “I’m Lydia Beaumont, Vice President of Peachtree Design, and I would be happy to be your volunteer, Miss Harmony Kline. Your accent, by the way, is to die for.”
“Hello!” said Harmony. “Thank you for volunteering! Come on up here.”
Lydia got to her feet and approached Harmony, a little warily. “How messy am I likely to get?” she asked.
“Well, you may want to remove your skirt,” suggested Harmony with a smile.
Lydia raised an eyebrow, but she unzipped her skirt at the side, pulled it down, and stepped out of it. Underneath she was wearing pale blue panties. She picked up her skirt, folded it, and set it on the table next to Harmony’s laptop.
“Now,” said Harmony, addressing the room, “suppose your company has perfect coders, following all best practices to the letter. You might think that your servers, represented here by Lydia’s panties, should remain entirely free of poo. I mean, coding clutter.
“So now let’s say your company purchases a new mainframe. It comes pre-built, for the most part; perhaps your coders work with the vendor’s coders to customise it to your company’s needs. Perhaps your coders get enough access to the code to make sure this customisation is done without compromising the efficiency and leanness of the code. Highly unlikely, but suppose that happens.
“What about the rest of the code? The original bedrock of the mainframe? Unless your coders are able to study the entire thing and make changes to it – which, let me tell you, is not going to happen – you’re going to be at the mercy of the flaws of the vendors’ coders. Just because your coders are perfect, doesn’t mean theirs are. So, right away, you’re introducing poo into the front end.” She grabbed a large handful of poo from the top of the pitcher, pulled open the front of Lydia’s panties with her other hand, and stuffed the poo inside, making Lydia squeal.
Lydia squealed, as the room erupted in laughter. “Eww!” she cried. “So gross!”
Harmony withdrew her hand, letting the waistband of Lydia’s panties snap back into place. With her cleaner hand, she cupped the bulging material and pressed it against Lydia’s pussy, making the poo squish and mould itself around Lydia’s clit and labia. The Vice President of Peachtree Design gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Now that you’ve got your mainframe installed, you’re going to discover it needs tweaking,” continued Harmony. “Your users report issues that you did not anticipate. Some of the data entry fields are of insufficient length, or the reporting doesn’t work with your idiosyncratic fiscal months, or ... well, you know how it is. Front-end customisation never anticipates everything.
“So you tweak the code. With one hundred percent efficiency! You test it, and it works just fine. But ... unless you have a product like ours, that can scan the entire mainframe code and accurately determine any unanticipated knock-on impacts of your tweaks, you’re potentially introducing a little poo into the back end. Not a lot, perhaps, but still. Turn around, Lydia.”
Lydia grimaced as she turned her back on Harmony, who pulled open her panties again and deposited a small lump of poo inside.
“Then,” said Harmony, “a patch arrives from the vendor! Your coders can diligently check it to see how it might affect the tweaks you’ve made, but again, your coders aren’t responsible for the efficiency of the vendors’ coders and can’t anticipate what inefficiencies they have introduced in this patch. So, more poo in the back end.” She retrieved a larger piece of poo from the pitcher and dropped it, too, in the back of Lydia’s panties.
“Oh, but now you want to connect the mainframe to other bits of software,” continued Harmony. “Data is passed back and forth, tables are modified, and so on ... and you can no doubt do a pretty good, efficient job of connecting them and making them work smoothly ... but the chances are, somewhere in the code of either product is some routine or other that has now been made redundant. Or some new conflict that you didn’t anticipate because you don’t, and can’t, know all of the code backwards. So now you’ve added more poo.” She scooped a liberal quantity of poo out of the pitcher, an added it to the growing bulge in Lydia’s panties.
“This is so nasty!” groaned Lydia, but she was smiling good-naturedly as she said this, and everyone in the room laughed.
Harmony continued through a litany of issues that would add extraneous and potentially contradictory code to a company’s systems ... and with each one, she added some more poo to the back of Lydia’s panties, until they were bulging with a melon-sized mass as large as Harmony’s own. But the pitcher was still a quarter full, and Lydia’s panties could not hold any more.
“Oh dear,” said Harmony, grinning. “It seems you’ve accumulated so much wasteful code that you need to add another server in order to process it. Can I have another volunteer please?”
Ron Studebaker chuckled. “I think we’ve got the idea,” he said.
“I’ll volunteer!” said a pretty young woman at the back of the room. She was wearing jeans and a yellow top with a collar, and looked in her mid-twenties. “Florence Murphy, web designer for Eden Consulting.”
“Thank you Florence,” said Harmony. “Take off your jeans and come on up here.”
Florence unzipped her jeans and took them off along with her shoes, then she trotted up to the front in just her top and white panties. She smiled at Harmony and Lydia as she pulled out the back of her panties. “All right, fill ‘em up!”
“Not so fast,” said Harmony. “This company isn’t about to put a dedicated server on the job. Chances are, it will co-opt one that is already in use. One that will come with its own clutter already on board.”
“What are you saying?” asked Florence, puzzled.
“Before I put any of this poo in your panties,” said Harmony, with a twinkle in her eye, “let’s see you put some of your own in there.”
Florence blinked. “You want me to poop in my panties?” she asked uncertainly.
“Sure!” said Harmony. “Is that worse than having someone else’s poo in there?”
“I suppose not,” conceded Florence. She squatted slightly, putting her hands on her knees, and strained.
Behind her, the other conference attendees watch with a mixture of disgust and fascination as Florence’s white panties tented outwards, the thin cotton being pushed farther and farther away from her buttocks as a thick turd emerged from between them. Then the lump stopped growing, and beneath it the material suddenly bulged downwards, spreading out to both sides as Florence emptied her bowels into her panties. Again and again she strained, and the bulge swelled to grapefruit-sized, and then larger still, until her panties were starting to slip down her hips from the sheer weight of all her poo.
“Finished,” she said at last, a little breathlessly.
Harmony inspected the bulge. “Well it looks like this server’s maxed out too!” she chuckled, and everyone laughed with her. Even Florence, though the young woman’s cheeks had turned a little pink.
“Well that was less than ideal,” said Harmony with a smile. “So here’s an idea. Can I have all of the women here on their feet please?”
The remaining female attendees, some of them looking a little apprehensive, got up from their chairs. There were about thirty of them, Harmony estimated, ranging in age from mid-twenties up to fifty-ish.
“Now,” said Harmony, “I’d like you to take off your skirts and trousers ... pants, sorry ... and then fill your panties with as much poo as you have inside you.”
Nobody moved. The women in the room all stared at Harmony in shock. “What, all of us?” said a dark-haired woman with Oriental features (Chinese, Harmony guessed, though she had a pronounced New York accent).
“And why just the women?” inquired a young man with a goatee.
“Men’s underpants tend not to have elastic leg seams,” explained Harmony, “so they’re unlikely to hold much poo. Unless they’re Y-fronts, I suppose, but I’m not sure many men would admit to wearing those.”
“I’m wearing a thong,” said a rather overweight woman in her late twenties. “Sorry, but that’s not going to hold any poop at all!”
“And I’m wearing lace boyshorts,” said another woman. “They don’t have elastic leg seams, so they won’t hold my poop either.”
“All right,” said Harmony. “Sit down if you’re wearing panties of a design that isn’t conducive to holding your poo.” Eight of the women sat down. “Okay. The rest of you, take off your skirts and trousers, and start pushing!”
Rather reluctantly, the twenty-three women still standing (Harmony counted) began to remove their skirts and trousers. One young woman was wearing a dress; after a moment of uncertainty, she pulled it up around her waist and held on to it while she strained.
For the next couple of minutes, the room was quiet except for a faint crackling sound of turds slithering out of anuses, and soft grunts of effort from those who were having a little difficulty with the process.
When she judged that everyone was finished, Harmony said, “Okay ladies – come up to the front and we’ll see who still has room for what’s left in the pitcher.”
A little hesitantly, women in tops and bulging panties began leaving their places and walking up to the front of the room. There were blondes, brunettes, redheads, and hair shades in between. Most were Caucasian or Asian-American, but there were two African-American women and one Middle-Eastern girl. There were slim women, athletic women, curvaceous women, large women, busty women, flat-chested women, tall women, short women, plain women, attractive girl-next-door types, undeniably hot women, and one – a raven-haired Java expert named Courtney Summers – who was a catwalk-quality bona fide beauty. Harmony was pleased to see that Courtney’s panties contained a merely orange-sized bulge.
“Okay,” she said, “all of you line up along the front here, facing the front, so everyone can see how ‘cluttered’ your ‘servers’ are... That’s it... Good, good...”
She went along the line, tapping shoulders as she went. “Your panties are full – return to your seat please... No room in yours, you can go back to your seat... Looks like your panties could fit a bit more, so you stay up here...” She continued on, either sending each woman back to her seat if her panties were full, or keeping her at the front if there was room for more. By the time she got to the end of the line, there were seven women remaining.
Harmony chuckled at the squeals and exclamations of disgust as the women with full panties all sat back down. “Now,” she said, “we have seven servers with some capacity for additional poo. Of course, some have more space than others. Let’s see who has the most room… Hmm, I think we have a winner! Courtney, how would you like to have some more poo in your panties?”
Courtney shrugged. “Sure,” she said.
“Excellent!” said Harmony excitedly. “Thanks very much to the rest of you – you have been great sports. You can go back to your seats.” She fetched the pitcher, then pulled open the back of Courtney’s pink satin panties, in which nestled a curled-up ginger-brown turd. Turning the pitcher upside-down and shaking it, she could not help giggling as a cylindrical mass of her poo slid out and thudded into Courtney’s panties, eliciting a gasp from the young beauty as it came to rest against her buttocks.
Unfortunately, Courtney’s panties were not strong enough to hold both her own poo and Harmony’s, and they began to fall down. Harmony put down her pitcher, quickly retrieved a large handful of poo from Courtney’s panties and, reaching her arms around Courtney’s waist, she pulled open the front of Courtney’s panties with her empty left hand, and slipped her poo-filled right hand inside. Squishing her poo against Courtney’s pussy, she began to gently rub it around, her fingers gradually sinking into the mess until she could feel the gorgeous Java coder’s soft labia.
“Are you having fun, Harmony?” murmured Courtney in amusement.
“Ooh yes,” Harmony whispered back, as she found Courtney’s clitoris and blatantly began stroking it. “How about you?”
“Well it’s certainly a unique experience,” admitted the dark-haired girl. “And your fingers are doing great work there.”
Harmony grinned, and withdrew her hand. Turning to her audience, she said, “So now we’ve filled up a bunch of panties, or rather servers, with poo. But of course, as you all know, mainframes and other business software are not the only places where poo resides. Think of all the hardware that is connected to your networks!”
“You’re not telling us that your company reprograms printers and routers and so on, surely?” said a shaven-headed man in the front row. He was rather good-looking, Harmony could not help noticing.
“No, we don’t,” said Harmony. “But what does hardware come with, which tends to need frequent upgrading?”
“Drivers,” said the man.
“Right,” said Harmony. “Here’s an area in which software tends to get installed directly on to client computers by the manufacturer without much if anything in the way of testing and verification by the client. Some companies do better at this than others, but nine times out of ten, that vendor is basically defecating directly into the most vulnerable, naked parts of your system. “In order to demonstrate this ... Courtney, would you mind taking off your panties and lying down with your vagina pointing upward?”
Startled, Courtney looked back at Harmony over her shoulder. “You want to stick a turd in my vagina?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Harmony. “Well actually, I thought I might do a poo straight into it.”
Courtney hesitated, then shook her head. “Sorry,” she said, “but I’m just not comfortable with that.”
“Oh,” said Harmony, trying to conceal her disappointment. “Okay – no problem.”
“You can do it to me if you like,” said Florence, smiling shyly at Harmony.
“Great! Thank you,” said Harmony in relief. “Thank you so much.”
Florence carefully pulled her heavily-loaded panties down, and stepped out of them. Then, while facing away from the audience, she lay down on her back, raised her legs up into the air, then lifted her hips high off the floor, holding them up with her hands while planting her elbows on the carpet tiles. Then she bent her knees and spread her thighs wide apart, exposing her vaginal opening to Harmony and, indeed, almost everyone in the room. The man sitting nearest to the mounted camera quietly disconnected it from its tripod, and crept forward down the aisle while keeping it fixed on Harmony and Florence.
Harmony lowered her own panties, stepped out of them, and then stepped in front of Florence, facing the audience completely naked aside from the lumpy layer of poo covering almost her entire body. Spreading her feet well apart, she squatted down a little, positioning her anus directly over Florence’s vagina. “Lydia or Courtney,” she said, “I’ll need one of you to hold Florence’s vagina open. I know from experience that turds tend to squish when you try inserting them.”
“Sure thing honey, I can do that,” said Lydia, stepping forward and kneeling down next to Florence. She gently inserted two fingers of each hand into Florence’s vagina, and pulled them apart to form an approximately square orifice.
“Aren’t you taking this metaphor a little far, Harmony?” said Ron Studebaker, looking a little disgusted. There were murmurs of agreement from a few other people in the room.
“Please bear with me,” said Harmony. “I’m almost out of time anyway, but I just want to make one last point.”
“All right,” said Ron, nodding.
Harmony strained, and a new turd began to emerge from her anus. It descended inch by inch towards Florence’s vagina until, when it was about six inches long, it started to push into the gap between Lydia’s fingers. Harmony continued pushing until a couple of inches of her poo had sunk inside Florence.
“Thank you Lydia,” she said, “you can remove your fingers now.”
Lydia did so, but she remained kneeling on the floor, staring in fascination at the column of poo connecting Harmony’s anus with Florence’s vagina.
Harmony, no longer pushing her poo out, gently lowered her bottom a few inches, so that her poo sank deeper inside Florence. Then she very carefully raised herself back up, crossing her fingers that the turd would not break. To her relief, it did not, and was simply pulled up out of the depths of Florence’s vagina until barely an inch remained inside.
Harmony lowered herself down again ... raised herself back up ... down ... up ... and soon she had settled into a nice rhythm, bouncing up and down on the spot while her poo pistoned in and out of Florence’s vagina. She grinned down at the man holding the camera, which was now just four feet away and appeared to be pointing straight at her poo-caked pussy.
“So I’ll leave you with this final thought,” said Harmony. “Each time you customise a mainframe, install an add-in or a bolt-on program or an upgrade, or try to connect two systems together, or do any of the other things I’ve described to your network ... you are, in a metaphorical sense at least, fucking it with poo.”
The entire room burst into laughter, and then into applause. “Thank you!” said Harmony. “That’s it from me – thank you all for your kind attention.”
“Well done!” said Ron, getting to his feet and coming over to shake Harmony’s hand. “A bizarre, but unique and compelling presentation.”
“Thank you!” said Harmony, continuing to bounce up and down, thrusting her poo in and out of Florence. “I appreciate that.”
“Ohhh ... ohhhh!!!” moaned Florence below her.
“That does look like fun,” said Courtney a little ruefully. “Perhaps I made the wrong decision...”
Harmony chuckled. Then, “Oh bother!” she said as her poo broke off while lodged deep in Florence’s vagina. Her anus clenched shut, and she stood up straight. Then, turning around, she reached down with her hand to help Florence up.
“Hey,” she said, “why don’t the three of you come up to my room to shower and dispose of your poo?”
“I’d like to,” said Courtney, “but I’m quite interested in the A.I. lecture that Dan Yip is giving in a couple of minutes.”
“Me too,” confessed Lydia.
“And me,” said Florence, “but I don’t mind skipping it if you’d like to clean up now.”
“Well gosh,” said Harmony, shutting down her laptop. “I’d forgotten about Dan’s lecture. Of course I want to see that. I suppose I can clean up later.”
The four women found seats near the front of the room. Courtney and Lydia sat down in their poo; both women squealed as their pussies squelched into the mess, then they laughed at each other’s reactions. Florence and Harmony tucked their full panties beneath their chairs before sitting down.
Many of the other women had also chosen to stay for the lecture rather than cleaning up, with the result that much of the poo produced during Harmony’s presentation remained in the room, squished beneath female bottoms. Harmony overhead one nearby woman say to another, “I’m kinda getting used to the smell, and besides, it feels kinda nice.” To which the other woman responded, “It does, doesn’t it? I think I may poop only in my panties from now on.”
The A.I. presentation lasted an hour, and it was followed by a half-hour slide show entitled The Future of Software, which Harmony and her new friends also attended. This brought the conference to a close.
As the attendees began to disperse, the four women grabbed their things, including the items of clothing they had removed, then they headed out into the lobby and took the elevator up to Harmony’s room. Per her request, the door was unlocked, and Harmony made her way straight to the bathroom. Placing her panties next to the toilet, she hopped into the shower and sighed with pleasure as warm water washed the poo from her naked body. Soon enough she was clean ... and yet she found herself strangely reluctant to empty her vagina of the poo, maggots and cockroaches that it contained. She had been enjoying the constant tingling sensation of the maggots wriggling inside her, and she did not want to see them washed down the plughole to their certain deaths.
Meanwhile, Lydia was trying to flush away her poo, but she had merely succeeded in blocking the toilet. After ten minutes of working on it, she gave up. “Sorry, but that toilet is well and truly blocked up!”
“Oh no!” said Courtney. “Well, I’m not sure I can in good conscience dump my own poop in there – well, mine and Harmony’s – if it’s already blocked. That would just be making it worse!”
“Quite right,” agreed Harmony, who by now was drying herself. “We don’t want this bathroom to turn into another toilet like ... oh, well I guess I haven’t told you about that...”
“About what?” asked Florence.
Harmony took a deep breath, then launched into a vivid description of the gas station’s toilet, and what had happened there. Florence, Lydia and Courtney listened with growing looks of astonishment on their faces.
“And I arrived at the hotel with no time to clean up,” finished Harmony, “so I had to improvise my speech around that poo metaphor.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and began towelling her hair dry.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Florence. “That’s ... kind of brilliant!”
“Very quick thinking,” agreed Courtney.
“So ... would that be a good place to drop off all this poop?” suggested Lydia.
“No!” said Harmony. “That would negate the point of everything I went through there. I don’t want to make that place even worse than it was when I found it.”
“I guess I’ll just take mine home then,” said Courtney, picking up her skirt and heading for the door.
“You’re not going to shower?” inquired Harmony.
“Not much point,” said Courtney, “if I’m going to be wearing my messy panties in the car anyway.”
“Well you don’t have to do that,” said Florence.
“Oh I think I do,” replied Courtney with a wink.
The others laughed, and Courtney waved as she walked out of the room. “Well I should get going too,” said Lydia, picking up her own skirt. “I must say, Harmony, you’ve opened up a whole new world for me today. Thank you for that. I suspect I’ll be pooping in my panties a lot more from now on.”
“Glad to hear it!” said Harmony with a grin. “Take care, Lydia.”
“You too, Harmony,” said Lydia. “And you, Florence. Goodbye!”
“Bye-bye,” said Florence, sitting down on the bed next to Harmony.
Once Lydia had left, Harmony turned to Florence. “So are you going to shower, or mmmm!!” Her eyes widened at Florence’s lips suddenly pressed against hers. She opened her mouth, and willingly accepted Florence’s tongue.
After a long kiss, they broke apart, and Florence, her eyes shining, quickly removed her yellow top and the white bra beneath, exposing very pretty C-cup breasts. Now naked, she lay back on the bed and held out her arms to Harmony.
They kissed, they cuddled, they sucked on each other’s nipples, and they stroked each other’s pussies until, one after the other, they both reached a shuddering climax. During Florence’s orgasm, the turd inside her started to come out, and Harmony watched in fascination as the young woman defecated from her vagina. Then Harmony, too, climaxed intensely, and her involuntary vaginal clenching caused the maggoty poo inside her to pop out of her like a cork from a bottle. It dropped on to the sheet between her thighs, and then several cockroaches scuttled out of her and ran away to hide in various corners of the room.
Florence stared with wide eyes at the poo between Harmony’s legs. “Good grief, I can’t believe you had all these maggots inside you!” she said. “And those roaches! What did it feel like?”
“Not bad,” admitted Harmony, blushing. “The maggots kept tickling me inside ... it was a little distracting during the slide show!”
Florence laughed. “Want to take a quick shower together? We can try to flush ourselves out.”
“Good idea,” said Harmony.
After their shower, Florence sat down naked on the bed and said, “Want to go and get something to eat?”
Harmony chuckled. “I don’t have any clothes,” she said. “Except for my messy panties, and I don’t suppose there are many places that would let me in if I were wearing those.” She thought for a moment. “Where do you live, Florence?”
“Stoneford,” replied Florence. “It’s just over an hour south-west of here.”
“And only half an hour from me!” said Harmony excitedly. “I live in Overton. We’re practically neighbours!”
“So we are!” exclaimed Florence, clapping her hands in delight.
“Want to stay at my place tonight?” asked Harmony. “We could get pizza in, watch a movie, poo on each other...”
Florence laughed. “Sounds awesome,” she said. “Yes please! And tomorrow’s Saturday, so...”
“We could spend the whole weekend together?” suggested Harmony.
“Yes!” said Florence. Then her smile faded. “Okay, full disclosure ... I do have a boyfriend...”
“Oh,” said Harmony, disappointed.
“But it’s been going terribly!” said Florence quickly. “Honestly, I’ve just been looking for the courage to leave. He’s a bit of a jerk.”
Harmony smiled as she sat down next to Florence. “Do you have your own place?” she inquired.
“No,” admitted Florence. “I’d been renting an apartment before I moved in with Lee. I guess now I’ll have to find somewhere else.”
“Well ... maybe you could try living with me for a while,” said Harmony. “If it doesn’t work out, then at least it’ll buy you some time to find a place of your own. And if it does...”
Florence threw her arms around Harmony and kissed her. “Thank you,” she said. “I’d love to.”
“All right then!” said Harmony. “Why don’t we go and hop in our cars, and you can follow me home! I’ll also text you my address in case we somehow lose each other.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Florence happily. She got up from the bed and pulled on her poo-filled panties. “I’m totally wearing these for driving,” she said with a giggle.
Harmony laughed. “That does sound like fun,” she remarked. She retrieved her own messy panties from the bathroom, and put them on. Then she picked up the empty pitcher, washed it out, and dried it. Heading out of the bathroom, she collected her purse and laptop. “Ready to go?” she asked Florence.
Florence had just put on her bra and top. “What about those?” she asked, pointing at the turds on the bed.
“Can you fit them both in the front of your panties?” asked Harmony. “I’m not sure mine can take any more weight without falling down.”
Florence shivered as she picked up the turd that had been inside her vagina, and dropped it into the front of her panties. “The maggots too?”
“Of course,” said Harmony with a grin.
Florence picked up the maggoty poo that had been inside Harmony, and placed it carefully in the front of her panties. Then she squished it a little flatter, through the thin material, with the palm of her hand. “Well this isn’t so bad, I suppose,” she conceded with a smile. She picked up her iPad, purse, shoes, and jeans. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Good girl,”
Outside, they got into their respective cars, and Harmony shivered and smiled as her pussy and buttocks squished into her poo. The brown mess oozed out of the leg holes of her panties, up towards the small of her back, and up between her legs, filling and then spilling out of the front of her panties.
She set off slowly, making sure that Florence was behind her, and then she sped up as they both got on to the main road.
Ten minutes into the journey, Harmony realised she had forgotten to mention to Florence that she would need to stop at the gas station in order to return the empty pitcher to Archie. She pulled her phone out of her purse, and noticed she had a message from Richard. She hit Play and listened.
“Hi Harmony, this is Richard. I don’t know what possessed you to make such an extraordinary spectacle of yourself today, but it was a stroke of genius. Mason was about ready to fire you, until the calls started coming in. Thanks to you we’ve got a couple of big name companies interested in our services, and Mason is about as happy as I’ve ever heard him. So, great job, and have a nice weekend.”
Feeling very pleased with herself, Harmony called Florence.
“Hi!” said Florence. “What’s up?”
“I forgot to mention this before,” said Harmony, “but we need to stop at that gas station I was telling you about. I have to return their pitcher.”
“Oh!” said Florence. “Well that’s cool – I’m kinda curious to see that toilet.”
Harmony chuckled. “Well okay then, we’ll take a peek ... but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
“Just a peek?” inquired Florence, with a trace of reproach. “I want to get messy, Harmony.”
Harmony laughed. “Well okay then!” she said. “But let’s not stay too long. I’m getting rather hungry; all the poo I ate earlier has long since left my stomach. Should be interesting, and possibly kind of gross, when it comes out the other end.”
“Eww,” said Florence. “I can’t wait!”
Harmony giggled. “See you in a few minutes,” she said.
Arriving at the gas station, Harmony parked outside the toilet, got out, and then took off her messy panties as Florence pulled in and parked next to her. She dropped her panties on her seat, then reached back and scraped some chunks of poo off her buttocks with her hands. Accumulating a large handful of poo, she dropped it on top of her panties and then closed the door.
Florence got out of her car and grinned at Harmony. “Hi Gorgeous,” she said.
Harmony blushed and smiled. “You might want to leave your clothes in your car,” she said.
“Oh, good idea,” said Florence, and she quickly removed her top and bra, tossing them back into her car. As she started pulling down her panties, Harmony snapped her fingers.
“The pitcher!” she said. She opened her car door again, and retrieved the pitcher from the passenger seat. “I’m just going to return this to Archie,” she said to Florence.
“Oh!” said Florence, putting her panties in her car and closing the door. “I’ll come with you.”
“Are you sure?” asked Harmony. “He’s kind of a perv, and, well, you’re naked.”
“So are you!” retorted Florence. “At least we’ll have safety in numbers.”
“All right then,” said Harmony with a nod, and she and Florence walked over to the store.
Inside, they found Archie surrounded by a cluster of men who were peering over his shoulder at a tablet he was holding. He looked up, and a delighted grin broke out on his face.
“It’s her!” he exclaimed. “Look, boys, it’s her! And she’s brought a friend!”
The other men – there were five of them, not including Archie – all looked up and grinned lecherously at Harmony and Florence. “And they’re both naked!” said one of them.
“I brought you back your pitcher,” said Harmony, holding it up.
Archie shrugged. “Keep it,” he said. “It’s not like I’ll be wanting to drink out of it again.”
“Maybe your friend would like to poop in it,” suggested one of his friends. “Like you did in this video.”
“Ugh, you’re all watching me doing a poo earlier?” said Harmony in dismay.
“You pooped in front of them?” inquired Florence. “You didn’t mention that before...”
“It was before I got to the toilet,” said Harmony. “But yes, I filled the pitcher in front of Archie and two of his other friends. They seemed to enjoy it, too, judging by the way they all had a wank over my pussy while I was doing it.”
“Holy cow!” said Florence.
“I’m Bob,” said one of the men. “And my buddies here are Walt, Chuck, Teddy, Logan ... and you know Archie already.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Harmony. “I’m Harmony, and this is Florence.”
“So how about it Florence?” asked Logan with a grin. “If you need to poop, you should probably do it in the pitcher. The toilet out there is pretty disgusting.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Florence, smirking slightly. “But as it happens, I just pooped this afternoon, and I doubt there’s any left inside me.”
“How about you, Harmony?” asked Teddy.
Harmony chuckled. “As amazing as it may seem, I believe I could squeeze out a little more. And I suppose I might as well empty my bowels into the pitcher, and take it with me; I certainly don’t want to contribute my own poo to the horrible state of your toilet.”
“That’s a good girl!” said Teddy in delight. “Why don’t you hop up here and get in the same position you were in earlier?”
“Okay,” said Harmony. She turned to Florence. “Are you sure you won’t join me? I’ll feel less outnumbered up there if you’re by my side. They’re bound to start wanking over me, and I’m not sure if I can stomach having six penises spurting all over my pussy at once.”
Florence looked a little nervous, but she nodded. “All right, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” said Harmony gratefully. She climbed on to the counter from the customers’ side, and then lay down with her bottom hanging over the far side and her knees up against her chest. “Is it okay if I lie down like this instead of trying to squat?” she inquired. “The squat was difficult and uncomfortable.”
“Sure,” said Archie, “but spread your legs nice and wide, so ... um ... so we can see better where to position the pitcher.”
“Oh fine,” said Harmony with a sigh, knowing that this would obscenely display her vagina and anus for the men’s leering stares. It would not exactly be the first time today that she had been similarly exposed, but it was still not something she was entirely happy about doing in front of strangers. With a slight grimace of uneasiness, she spread her thighs wide apart.
Florence, lying down in similar fashion next to Harmony, also spread her thighs wide. “Hey, if there’s only one pitcher,” she said, “how are you going to catch my poo if I can produce any?”
“We’ll just hold the pitcher under whichever of you has a poop that’s about to fall,” said Archie.
“Okay, good, thank you,” said Florence. She was a little disconcerted about how quickly Logan, Bob and Walt all pulled out their erections and began masturbating very close to her pussy, but when she looked over at Harmony, she was shocked to see Archie, Chuck and Teddy actually nudging their dicks against Harmony’s pussy as they masturbated.
Harmony was not especially happy about this. “Guys, how do you expect me to concentrate on doing a poo while you’re rubbing your willies on me?”
“I’m sure you can manage,” said Archie, pressing the tip of his penis between her labia and sliding it up and down from her clit to her anus and back again. As it passed over her vaginal opening, it dipped inside slightly.
Harmony sighed, and tried to focus on pushing out what was left of her poo. She strained, and her anus opened up once again. An inch-thick turd started to come out, slithering inexorably downward while Archie held the pitcher under it with his free left hand. His right hand was busily masturbating and sliding the head of his erect penis back and forth over her vagina. Each time it dipped inside her, it seemed to get a little deeper.
“Careful there Archie!” she said.
Archie paused with the head of his penis half-submerged in her vagina, while his hand rapidly worked its shaft. “Huh?” he said. “Careful of what?”
“Careful you don’t come inside...” began Harmony, but she broke off as he groaned and shuddered, and she felt his semen shooting deep inside her. “Ugh, damn it Archie!”
As Archie pulled away, Teddy started rubbing the circumcised head of his penis over her vaginal opening. Almost immediately it began dipping inside her, and she sighed. “Just try not to come inside me please ... what was your name, sorry?”
“Teddy,” said Teddy, sinking the entire head of his erection inside her before pulling it out.
Florence was still trying to defecate, but it was not easy to concentrate with Logan, Bob and Walt now blatantly rubbing their penises against her pussy lips and vaginal opening as they frantically masturbated. Then Bob, with a groan, climaxed while the tip of his cock was positioned directly against her vagina. She felt his gooey sperm enter her, and gasped in shock. “Eww!” she exclaimed.
“Sorry,” Bob apologised as he withdrew, letting Logan take his place.
Teddy was sinking his penis deeper and deeper inside Harmony with each pass. When he finally gasped and spasmed in orgasm, he sank his cock all the way to her cervix, and remained there as he delivered spurt after spurt of his semen. Harmony sighed in resignation as another turd broke off and thudded into the pitcher.
When Teddy pulled out of her and stepped back, Chuck wasted no time in sliding his cock deep into her vagina. He began fucking her in earnest, as she groaned in worry as she imagined the sperm of three men swimming eagerly into her fertile womb.
Logan by now was dipping his penis inside Florence more often than not, and eventually he grabbed her hips, sank himself deep into her vagina, and started fucking her with powerful strokes. “Oh dear!” said Florence with a sigh. She was not on the pill either; Lee was a devout Catholic, and had always insisted on counting the days of her cycle to minimise the chances of her conceiving. He had not had sex with her in a week, since she was in theory due to ovulate today, and he did not like to take any chances with any irregularities in her cycle.
She strained again, and her anus opened up around an emerging turd. “Oh, I’m pooping!” she said excitedly.
“Congratulations,” gasped Logan, as he climaxed deep inside her. When he pulled out a few moments later, Walt stepped in and, taking care to avoid her poo, slid his erection all the way into her vagina.
Florence sighed. “All right then, Walt – you might as well come inside me too. Just make sure you give me a good hard fucking first.”
“I plan on it,” he replied with a grin, massaging her breasts with his rough hands as he began pumping his penis in and out of her.
“Oh God!” groaned Chuck as he squirted rope after rope of semen up against Harmony’s cervix.
“I finished my poo!” exclaimed Harmony, as her final turd dropped into the pitcher.
“Good to know!” said Archie, moving over just in time to catch Florence’s falling turd. The pitcher was already almost half full.
“Ahh ... ahhhh ... ahhhh!!!!” gasped Florence, as Walt hammered his penis in and out of her. “You know, being fucked while pooping is actually kind of cool...”
“It is, isn’t it?” laughed Harmony, climbing down from the counter now that Chuck had pulled out of her. Semen began to run down the inside of her thighs.
Florence finished her poo just as Walt, with a loud moan of ecstasy, ejaculated inside her. He pulled out a moment later, and then she, too, climbed down.
“Well it’s been lovely,” said Harmony, taking the pitcher from Archie, “but we really must be going.”
“It was nice meeting you,” said Teddy. “I hope you’ll come back and see us again sometime.”
“Perhaps!” said Harmony, as she and Florence walked a little stiffly towards the door. “Bye then.”
“Bye!” said Florence with a smile.
Outside, Harmony groaned. “Ugh, I so need a morning after pill!”
“Me too,” said Florence. “God! Three men! Does that count as a gangbang?”
“Probably,” said Harmony. “But never mind that – let’s show you the toilet.”
They reached the outbuilding, and Harmony opened the door. Then she stepped inside, her feet sinking deep into poo, and switched the light on.
“Jesus!” exclaimed Florence, looking around with wide eyes. “You weren’t kidding about this place!” She stepped inside, squealing as her foot sank in several inches, the poo climbing well above her ankle.
Harmony closed the door behind them, then she took Florence’s hand and led her, step by squishy step, into the middle of the room. Turning to face her lover, she said, “Now I want you to lie down, and open your legs.”
Florence shivered. “Okay!” she said breathlessly. She sat down, her buttocks and pussy sinking into the squelchy, maggot-infested poo, and then she lay back, giving no thought to her lovely, shoulder-blade length auburn hair. As she spread her thighs apart, cockroaches swarmed over her pussy. “Ugh!” she said. “This is so gross!”
Harmony teased Florence’s vagina open with her fingers, and the roaches lost no time in crawling inside. Florence squealed. “Eww that feels so weird!” But she did not attempt to stop them.
Harmony smiled and lay down next to Florence. She grabbed a maggot-riddled turd and began to push it inside Florence, who sighed happily. The two women kissed, and then embraced, rolling over until Florence was on top, and Harmony was sinking into the poo. Then they rolled over again so that Harmony was on top. Both women were now covered with poo, and rubbing poo all over each other’s breasts, bellies, and pussies. Florence found a thick turd and began to gently fuck Harmony’s vagina with it, while Harmony stroked Florence’s clitoris with a squishy round nugget of poo.
“Oh God, this is amazing!” gasped Florence, grinding her buttocks deep into the sea of poo while Harmony brought her ever closer to orgasm. “Can we come here every weekend, Harmony?”
“Sure – we can come here as often as you like,” gasped Harmony, her body writhing with pleasure as Florence fucked her rapidly with the turd.
Both women climaxed together, screaming in ecstasy as cockroaches crawled all over the parts of them that were not buried in the poo. As they came down from their orgasms, they entwined their limbs around each other and cuddled, kissing each other’s poo covered faces and sighing happily. Then, over the next few minutes, while more cockroaches forced their way into the women’s turd-filled vaginas, their eyes closed and their breathing became more measured as a well-earned sleep slowly claimed them…