She awoke with a scream, and began sobbing uncontrollably. The sensation of cockroaches squirming in her cunt was such a relief after the torture she had just undergone. She was in her own bed, and there were no demons or maggots, and no vomit. Her alarm was going off.
Wearily, she climbed out of bed, and then noticed the crack in the far wall. The charred line was now almost a foot wide. The wallpaper had peeled back to expose pulsating purple flesh in a vertical strip two inches in width. She shuddered at the sight, and then jumped as the tip of a black worm appeared briefly, emerging from within the flesh and then retreating back inside.
She made herself a strong cup of coffee, and then went to get dressed. She donned a pair of panties that she had got from Mr. Howell’s shop – they were large at the back and string-like at the front, with conventional rather than tie-up sides. She then put on one of the transparent bras she had got from that shop, followed by the rather see-through blouse. She tugged on the suit microskirt, and finally donned the jacket. Admiring herself in the mirror, she approved of the look, though she was rather worried about what her colleagues would think of the skirt.
Resisting a new and even more powerful urge to empty her bowels, she left the apartment and caught the bus. Taking her seat at the back, she drew a disapproving look from a young woman whose six-year-old son was sitting on her lap. The little lad was fidgety and soon tried to get off.
“I don’t feel well,” he complained loudly. “The bus is bouncing and making my tummy bounce too.”
“Shh,” said his mother. “Why don’t you play with your cars?”
“Okay,” he said, and pulled a small toy car out of his pocket. “Vvvvroooommm,” he said, as he raced his car up the back of the seat and down again. He struggled to get off his mother’s lap, and eventually she let him go. He stood up on the seat, and placed the little car on the top of the seat back.
“Vvvvvroooommmmm!” he continued, as his car drove along the top of the seat, towards Samantha’s head.
“Hello,” said Samantha. “That’s a nice car.”
The boy nodded, and drove it behind her head. Then the bus hit a pothole in the road and lurched. The boy tumbled forwards, his head falling into Sam’s cleavage, whereupon he threw up.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed his mother, as Sam shrieked in alarm.
“Whoops,” said the boy, pulling his face away from her chest and wiping his mouth.
“I’m so sorry!” said the mother to Samantha, looking stricken.
Samantha felt warm vomit slide between her breasts and down over her belly. Her jacket, bra and blouse were soaked with the stuff. The smell was repulsive.
“Don’t worry,” she said sadly, “it was an accident.” Her new suit!
When she got to her stop, she disembarked, and hurried into the building where she worked. She hoped to get to the toilet without being spotted, but she was out of luck. Her boss, Toby Marshall, and the director of her department, Janet Goodacre, were conversing in the lobby. Both fell silent as she tried to hurry past them.
“What on Earth happened to you?” asked Toby.
“Some little brat threw up on me in the bus,” she said in annoyance. “On my new suit! I do hope it’s not ruined.”
“That’s a very short skirt for an office setting,” said Janet sharply. “I didn’t know you permitted such things, Toby.”
“I’ve never seen her in a skirt that short before,” said Toby. “We have no dress code – there’s never been a need for one. What’s the idea, Sam?”
“Could we discuss it after I clean up?” asked Samantha desperately. “My skin’s burning.”
“Oh! Oh, sure,” said Toby.
Sam rushed to the toilet and stripped off her clothes in front of the basin. Every item of clothing had suffered – there were even splashes on her shoes. Her panties had come off best – there was just a bit of dampness in the little triangle at the front, and her skirt was not too bad either – the waistband had soaked up some of the stuff, but that was all.
Her jacket, however, bore large patches of drying vomit, and her blouse was soaked through, as was her bra. She ran a basin full of hot water, and soaked the affected areas. The suit, she noted, was dry-clean only, so she did not dare to wash the jacket or the skirt. The latter, fortunately, was still wearable, but the jacket was certainly not.
The door opened and Vicky, one of her colleagues, came in. Her eyes widened at the sight of Samantha standing naked in front of the basins. “Sam!” she said. “What are you doing?”
Sam explained, and Vicky sympathized, though she was still surprised to see her prim-and-proper colleague in such a blatant state of undress.
A few minutes later, she walked out of the toilets, wearing everything but her jacket, which she carried. Her blouse and bra, very see-through at the best of times, were completely transparent when damp and clinging to her breasts. She felt terribly embarrassed.
Upstairs in the office, she attracted stares from all her colleagues, but she ignored them and went to sit down at her desk. She had not been there long, however, when Toby called her into his office. She sat down opposite his desk.
“Now, Sam,” said Toby, clearing his throat and trying not to look at the flash of white between her legs. Her knees were together, but her skirt was so short that a glimpse of her panties was inevitable. “We don’t have a dress code here, but I think you’ll agree we have to maintain standards.”
“It’s a very smart suit,” said Sam, “when it’s not covered in throw-up.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it is,” acknowledged Toby. “But the skirt – it’s rather short.”
“But I just bought it! And all my other suits have been ruined by the damn cockroaches in my apartment!” Just then a cramp hit her and she grimaced.
“But why did you by something so … skimpy?” asked Toby in puzzlement.
“It was tailored. I paid for it before they made it,” explained Samantha. “I didn’t realize it was going to be so short.”
“You can afford tailored suits?” inquired Toby with a raised eyebrow. “You told me last week you couldn’t even afford an exterminator.”
“It was really cheap!” said Sam. “Fifty dollars for the suit, blouse, and a bunch of underwear.”
“Fifty dollars!” exclaimed Toby, completely forgetting the issue at hand in his astonishment. “For a tailored suit??”
“They were running a special promotion,” said Sam. “New tailored suits for the price of a second-hand suit.”
“I’ve got to see this place! Where is it?” he asked. Sam gave him directions, which he wrote down on a scrap of paper. “Excellent,” he said, pleased. “I shall check it out at lunchtime. Thank you!”
“I didn’t imagine you were in need of cheap suits,” remarked Sam, crossing her legs and revealing her entire left thigh to her boss.
“Hey, I’ll never pass up a bargain,” said Toby, fingering his collar. “And that looks like good tailoring to me, despite the extremity of the cut.”
“Speaking of which…” she prompted.
“Oh yes – well, I suppose since there’s no official dress code, I can’t really discipline you or anything. But you’ve highlighted a need, and perhaps we’ll have a staff meeting today to discuss such a code.”
“That won’t be popular,” observed Sam.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “But we’ll see. Okay, that’s it – I’ll see you later.”
It turned out that all the office staff were available that morning, but one of them – Amanda Prieto – had a half day, and one of the men was going to be at a meeting in another department for most of the afternoon. The meeting was therefore arranged for eleven o’clock, at which time the entire office assembled in the conference room.
“I’ve called this meeting to discuss a dress code,” said Toby. “Now I realize that up until now it’s been informal, but certain people …” (here he deliberately avoided looking at Sam) “… have taken advantage of that. So we need some rules. Anyone like to throw some suggestions into the air?”
“No jeans,” said Thomas Beckwith.
“Good one Thomas,” said Toby, and wrote it down.
“Suits and ties for the men,” said Frank Pond.
“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” said Toby, his brow furrowing. “But I think shirts should be mandatory.”
There was a general murmur of agreement. “We don’t have to wear ties?” inquired Thomas.
“Perhaps if we’re expecting company,” said Toby. “But the air conditioning in this building is abysmal, so it can get pretty hot. I wouldn’t want people to be having to wear ties if it’s hot.”
“Maybe ties should be mandatory if the temperature is less than eighty degrees,” said Frank.
Toby frowned irritably. “Look, I don’t want this to be complicated. We don’t even have a thermometer in the office, though I dare say we could get one. But that’s not the point – I don’t want to have to check what temperature it is to see if the dress code rules are being followed or not. I still say ties should be optional. Now, what about the ladies?”
“No shorts?” suggested Vicky Bauer, a slender woman in her late twenties. Before today, she had worn the shortest skirts in the office
“Why not?” objected Amanda, who never wore skirts. Today she was wearing trousers, but in the hottest part of the summer she often wore shorts.
“They look unprofessional,” sniffed Vicky, and Amanda bridled.
“Vicky has a point,” said Toby. “Shorts are a little unprofessional. You’re quite welcome to wear trousers. The men wear trousers even when it’s hot, and so can you.”
“No tank-tops?” said Erin Moss brightly. She was the baby of the department at just twenty years old.
“Good!” Toby wrote it down. “Nor any cut-off t-shirts, halter-tops, and things of that ilk.”
“But regular t-shirts are okay?” inquired Vicky, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes!” said Amanda firmly – she was wearing a smart red t-shirt with a floral pattern around the neckline.
“T-shirts can be smart,” conceded Toby. “But some are not. Definitely no t-shirts with logos, pictures, et cetera.”
Amanda nodded, and Vicky shrugged.
“Now, how about skirts?” said Toby. There was universal silence. “I’m thinking particularly of the length.” He felt sure that Amanda would have strict opinions on this, and Vicky would not want to lose her status as the chief miniskirt-wearer. But neither said anything.
“No longer than knee length?” suggested Erin. There was a ripple of laughter.
“I was thinking more of a minimum length,” said Toby with a smile. “Has nobody any thoughts on the matter?”
“Perhaps,” said Samantha hesitantly, “perhaps this should be the minimum?” She pointed to her own skirt.
“Now clearly that is too short,” said Toby sternly.
“But if you put in place a dress code that outlaws this skirt, what am I going to do?” Sam objected. “I can’t afford to go out and buy another suit!”
“Well, perhaps we can make an exception in your case,” said Toby with a sigh.
“That’s not fair!” said Vicky. “So the rest of us have to wear longer skirts while Sam gets away with that?” She pointed at Sam’s crotch.
“I agree,” said Amanda. “One rule for all, or it doesn’t work.”
“Well surely you can’t think that’s an acceptable length!” demanded Toby.
Amanda shrugged. “You wouldn’t catch me in something like that,” she said. “But if Sam wants to wear it … it’s her funeral.”
“Yes but we’re talking about a dress code here … oh fine, then. We’ll set the minimum length as Sam’s skirt.” He sighed with resignation.
“What, you’re going to put that in the list of rules?” asked Vicky. “You’re going to say ‘No skirt longer than that one of Samantha’s’?”
Toby was struggling to keep his temper. “What do you suggest?” he managed finally.
“How about ‘Skirts must be long enough to cover the buttocks’,” proposed Frank.
“Does that one?” asked Thomas.
“Yes!” said Sam firmly. “It does. Just.”
“Really? I’m skeptical,” said Amanda. “Let’s see.”
Blushing, Sam got to her feet and turned around.
“Well I can see her buttocks,” remarked Frank.
Sam’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red and she tugged the back of her skirt down.
“Ah, that’s better,” said Frank.
Just then a new, very powerful cramp hit Sam and she sank to her knees. She gasped and clutched at her chair as the pressure in her bowels became too much to bear. Why had she not given in to the urge this morning?
“Are you all right, Sam?” inquired several voices from behind her.
“I think…” she began, then “Uuurhhhhh!” she said in a strained voice, as her anus gave up the struggle and opened wide. The tip of a turd of massive girth slid out and touched silk. “Oh God, ummmmmmphhhh!” Sam added, as the pain in her distended anus became so great that she found herself desperate to get rid of the titan. Three or four inches slid out, then there was a pause, then another six inches came out in a rush. She bent low over the seat of the chair, and her skirt rode up to expose a considerable expanse of her panty-clad buttocks.
“Sam!” squealed Erin in alarm.
“My God Sam!” cried Toby. “What are you doing?”
Amanda and Vicky had leapt to their feet. “Samantha!” exclaimed Amanda in a shocked voice. “Have you no self-control, woman?”
“Better out than in,” remarked Frank with a chuckle. But then Thomas hit him and glared at him.
“Are you ill, Sam?” asked Vicky.
“I’m okaaaay,” grunted Sam through clenched teeth. “Sorry – it just … came on … nnnneeuuuurrrrrhhhh … suddenly.” Another nine inches of fairly soft stuff had emerged, filling in the spaces around the initial section, which was curled up in the back of her panties. “Oh God, it hurts though… EEEEUUUUUURRRRRNNNNNNNNHHHH….” Another hard section was now emerging, very wide and quite long.
“Should we call someone?” asked Erin, morbidly fascinated by the sight of Sam’s bulging panties. “Like a doctor?”
“No,” said Toby. “Not yet, anyway. Sam, can you make it to the toilet?”
“Don’t be daft,” said Frank. “Not in the middle of doing it – let her finish first, then we’ll help her to the toilet.”
“I really think something’s wrong with her,” said Amanda, her arms folded across her chest. She pursed her lips, then muttered, “I’ve never seen so much…”
Sam was too busy to comment. Five inches of the latest hard section had come out, and her anus was complaining bitterly about the width. She paused, panting for a few seconds, then she gritted her teeth and strained again. Slowly, gradually, another six inches emerged and bent downwards, heading for her pussy. Unfortunately these panties had no gusset – it was no more than a string from an inch in front of her anus.
“She’s going to lose some of that on the carpet,” warned Thomas.
“Oh yuck!” exclaimed Vicky. “Can’t we do something?”
“Perhaps if two of us took hold under one of her arms, we could carry her to the toilet,” said Toby.
“Oh – too late,” said Frank.
It was true – Sam’s panties were slowly but inexorably descending under the weight of the fecal matter they contained. Worried about getting her skirt messy, Sam pulled it up around her waist. Erin gasped and covered her eyes – then peeked through her fingers. Amanda looked disgusted, but she continued to watch, although she looked as if she might turn away or leave at any moment.
The descent of Sam’s panties was, however, sparing the carpet for the time being. With more room available, her huge turd began to curl up on the top of the brown mass. A moment later, the top of her panties had descended lower than her anus, so her colleagues were treated to a view of her excreta actually exiting her rectal orifice. Still the panties slid down, until they stopped a couple of inches below the base of her buttocks. Here Sam paused for a few deep breaths, and then she pushed again. This seemed to be an especially wide part, for it took a great effort to get things moving.
“HNNNNNNNNNNNUUUUUUUHHHHH,” she grunted, and her colleagues stared at her expanding anal sphincter, with its wide, reddish-brown turd poking out and trailing down into her massively overloaded panties. Then, gradually, the widest part of the log emerged, and once it was through, the next seven or eight inches followed at a rush.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Erin.
“How the heck could she produce so much?” wondered Thomas aloud.
“She must not have been for a week,” said Frank.
“Two!” remarked Amanda.
“I … went two … EEEEUUUUUNNNNHHHHMMMMMMM … days ago!” panted Samantha. “I think I’m … mmmmppphhhh!! … almost done.”
Her panties sank still lower, and a large chunk fell on to the floor.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Erin.
“Stop looking through your fingers then,” suggested Vicky candidly.
“I think we should all stop looking,” said Toby. “We’ll finish this meeting another time.”
“Weren’t we nearly done?” asked Amanda. “What was there left to resolve?”
“We had established that Samantha’s skirt did indeed cover her buttocks,” said Frank. “So her own suggestion of what the rule should say sounds good to me.”
“So we can wear buttock-grazing skirts then?” asked Vicky. “Officially sanctioned?”
“Now wait a minute,” said Toby, becoming annoyed again.
Sam’s turd was now much softer, and the next ten inches she pushed out were quite thin in comparison with much of the rest of it. Her panties had by now reached her knees, and thus the floor. The brown column broke off just below her anus, but more immediately began to emerge.
“Come on Toby,” said Frank. “Either you tell Sam she must never wear that skirt again, or you let all the women wear skirts of that length. You can’t have it both ways.”
“All right, all right,” said Toby. “Yes, then, Vicky. You can officially wear buttock-grazing skirts, as you call them.”
“I have some,” said Erin. “But they really go best with tank-tops.”
“What was your objection to tank-tops again?” asked Vicky mischievously. “They’re very practical in the summer, especially when, as you say, the office becomes hot.”
Toby shook his head. He felt like the situation was getting out of his control. “Fine – summer only, then.”
“What dates?” asked Vicky. “I mean, between what dates are they acceptable?”
“Well it’s not a matter of dates so much as temperature,” said Frank. “Maybe if the temperature is more than eighty degrees…”
“Don’t start on that again!” said Toby.
“Why restrict the dates at all?” asked Vicky. “As if anyone would want to wear them in the winter!”
“Good point, Vicky,” said Thomas.
Sam finally expelled the last of the contents of her rectum. A large pile of her excrement lay on the floor between her knees, all but burying her panties. In fact, the only parts of her panties that were still visible were the sides, stretched around the outsides of her legs.
“I think that covers everything,” said Vicky. “Shall I write up a draft set of rules for your approval, Toby?”
“Yes, yes, that would be good,” said Toby wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Now, are you finished Sam?”
“Yes!” said Samantha breathlessly.
“Erin, please could you fetch a trash bag from the kitchen closet,” said Toby. “And the dustpan and brush.”
“Oh my God, what’s that?” shrieked Erin, pointing at Sam’s bottom.
A cockroach had chosen that moment to crawl out of her cunt, and it was currently dashing across one buttock.
“It’s a cockroach!” exclaimed Frank. He knocked it off Samantha’s bottom and stamped on it.
“I’ve seen enough,” said Amanda, and stalked out of the room.
Two more roaches dropped out of Sam’s cunt, landed on top of the pile of shit, and ran down it to the floor, where they made a beeline for the door. Both made it before Frank could get to them. He looked outside, but they had disappeared beneath the photocopier.
“My apartment’s infested with them,” explained Sam. “Every morning I wake up with some of them inside me.”
“How awful for you!” sympathized Vicky.
“Erin – the kitchen!” snapped Toby.
Erin took one last fascinated look at Sam’s pile of steaming shit, and hurried out of the room.
Toby took Sam’s chair away. “Can you shuffle forward and leave your panties where they are?” he asked.
Samantha nodded, and did so. Getting her feet through the leg holes without becoming too messy was a challenge, but soon she was standing up, and looking down at the pile. “I don’t understand how there’s so much!” she said.
“I once saw a cartoon picture on the internet,” said Frank, “that this reminds me of. There was this Japanese schoolgirl with enormous b…”
“I don’t need to hear about your internet porn habits thank you Frank!” said Toby. “Go and get cleaned up, Sam.”
She nodded and left, still with her skirt around her waist. On her way to the toilet she met Erin, who was returning to the conference room with the things from the kitchen closet. Erin stared at Sam’s shaved pussy with wide eyes, and Sam blushed in embarrassment.
“Right,” Toby was saying as Erin entered. “Let’s all get out of here. Erin, since Sam’s a little traumatized by this whole experience, would you consider cleaning … that up? I’d rather not leave it for the cleaners. It’d be more than my job’s worth.”
“All right,” said Erin. “But only if I can leave early on Friday.”
“You can have Friday afternoon off,” said Toby.
“Okay!” Erin was happy enough with this.
“Let’s leave her to it,” said Toby. He and the others left the room, leaving Erin alone with the pile of Sam’s shit.
She knelt down next to it and stared at it. How could one person produce so much? It was incredible. She shivered. It was also kind of erotic. Sam had just knelt there, in front of everyone, with her naked bottom on display, and pooped like there was no tomorrow. It must have been … yes, humiliating, but also somehow liberating. Just for an instant, Erin tried to imagine what it must have been like. She tried to put herself in Sam’s shoes.
What would it be like to poop in her panties in front of other people? Erin wondered. She had never before considered such a thing. For that matter, she had never considered pooping in her panties at all! But she considered it now. And then a delightful thought occurred to her.
Why not do it? Why not poop in her panties? With the smell from Sam’s own shit, nobody would ever know. She would simply take Sam’s shit to the toilet, the smell masking that of her own, and she would empty her own panties at the same time as she emptied the bag. Then she would go back to her desk as if nothing had happened. It was the perfect crime!
Before she could have second thoughts, she closed her eyes and pushed. Her anus opened up, and she shivered with anticipation. Then her own turd emerged, and she grunted as she squeezed it out. A moment later, a slender seven-inch log was curled up in the back of her panties. She almost squealed with delight.
Excitedly, she began scooping up Sam’s shit with the dustpan and shoveling it into the trash bag. Most of it was pretty dry, and Sam’s panties had kept a lot of it from touching the floor, so that when she was done, the carpet was hardly messy at all.
Erin shook Sam’s panties out into the bag, then stared at them in surprise. They were the most strangely-designed panties she had ever seen. The front was tiny, and became a string where the gusset was supposed to be. Yet at the back the panties were normal.
She shrugged it off, and tossed them into the dustpan. Then, smiling again because she knew she had poop in her panties, she left the room and walked sedately out into the office. She met Toby almost at once.
“Ah, thank you very much Erin – that’s greatly appreciated. Now if you could just dump that out in the toilet, that’d be wonderful.”
“Sure,” said Erin, struggling to repress a giggle.
“Are you all right Erin?” inquired Toby, misreading her expression.
“Oh I’m fine!” said Erin. She turned and walked away from him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She had stood right in front of him, with poop in her panties, and he had not known! This was so much fun!
As she approached her colleagues desks, she thought she would have even more fun. She relaxed her anus again and pushed.
This time, however, the results were disastrous. The remainder of her bowel contents were very liquid, on account of the curry she had eaten the night before. As she strained to expel them, they rushed out of her anus in a torrent, flooding her panties and leaking out the sides to splash on to the floor.
Amanda and Vicky stared at her, open-mouthed. Frank’s wide eyes were glued to the spreading stain on the back of her skirt. With a shriek of horror, Erin sprinted for the toilet, dripping diarrhea as she went.
She was sobbing as she entered and met Samantha, who was washing her hands at the basin.
“What’s up?” asked Sam in a voice of concern.
“I just pooped myself!” wailed Erin. “Except it wasn’t like yours – it was diarrhea!”
“Oh heck!” said Sam.
“Anyway I’ve got all your poop here,” said Erin, sniffling, “so I’ll just empty it out and then clean myself up.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Sam, taking the bag from Erin. “Are those my panties?” She pointed into the dustpan.
“Yes,” said Erin. “But they’re really weird – where did you get them?”
“A little shop near me. It’s really cheap and they have some interesting stuff.”
“I’ll say. What’s the point in these then?”
Sam blushed shyly. “Well, the string part kind of goes in between, and … well, let’s just say it’s a little distracting when you walk, or move, or do anything really.”
Erin’s eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Really?” she said. “Maybe I should go there and get a pair.”
Sam thought about Erin being undressed and shaved by Mr. Howell, and she shook her head. “The owner’s a bit of a pervert,” she said. “He … tried to get me naked. You’re best avoiding the place, really.”
“I can take care of myself,” said Erin resentfully. “I may be young but I’m not completely naïve.”
“Of course not,” said Sam instantly. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. Anyway I’ll give you the address if you really want to check it out.”
“Thanks!” said Erin.
“Now listen,” said Sam. “We both have dirty underwear, so why don’t I wash both pairs while you clean up in the stall?”
“My skirt’s messy too,” said Erin sadly.
“I’ll wash that too. It’s not dry-clean only, is it?”
“Not this one.”
“Good. Slip off your skirt and panties, then.”
Erin took off her skirt, but hesitated when it came to her panties.
“Don’t be silly,” Sam scolded her good-naturedly. “You’ve seen me in a worse mess!”
Erin nodded and smiled, then lowered her panties. They were soaked brown, and a smallish turd lay curled up in the back. She took them off and handed them carefully to Sam, who stared suspiciously at the solid lump.
“Did you do this deliberately?” she inquired.
“No!” exclaimed Erin hotly, but she blushed to the roots of her hair. “Well, yes – I thought I could get away with it, what with carrying all of yours around too.”
“I see,” said Sam with a smirk. “Only it didn’t go quite according to plan, did it?”
Erin shook her head in shame.
“Never mind, your secret’s safe with me,” said Samantha. “I must admit, although I find it terribly embarrassing to have poo in my panties, it does feel kind of nice…”
“Doesn’t it though!” said Erin in agreement, and Sam laughed.
“Well thank you Erin,” she said, “you’ve made me feel a little better about myself.”
“At my expense,” Erin pouted.
“Well you did just shit yourself on purpose in front of everyone,” Sam teased her. “It’s kind of funny if you think about it.”
“Well you did a far better job of that than me!” Erin countered. “I think I’ll recommend that the others call you Samantha Potty instead of Potter.”
Sam gasped, and struck out with the first weapon that came to hand – Erin’s own pair of panties, still with the turd in the back. She flicked it at the younger woman, then pulled it back before it actually touched her. Unfortunately, the turd inside slipped out through a leg hole, and dropped inside Erin’s blouse. The girl shrieked, her eyes bulging, as she felt it slither down her belly.
Samantha gaped and said, “Oh no! I’m sorry!”
But Erin was in battle mode now. She caught the turd as it dropped from the bottom of her blouse, and flung it back at Sam. It splattered against Sam’s clean blouse, and Sam gasped, her free hand flying up too late to protect herself. (Her other hand was holding the trash bag.) She caught part of the poo, and then lunged at Erin, planting her hand squarely on the young woman’s left breast. The poo squished against the material, and Erin squealed again, though whether in outrage or laughter, Sam was not quite sure.
Erin dived for the bag that Sam was holding, but Sam realized her intentions and pulled it out of the way. Overbalancing, Erin fell forward, but managed to grab part of the bag with one hand as she tumbled to the floor. She rolled over on to her back, directly underneath the bag, just as her long-nailed fingers ripped it open.
A huge pile of Sam’s poo slid out of the bag and landed heavily on Erin’s chest. Erin lay still, staring in shock at the brown mountain on her chest, just inches from her face, while Sam burst out laughing. “Serves you right!” she said.
Erin, her last shred of dignity gone, now wanted payback. She reached up, grabbed hold of Sam’s arm, and pulled sharply. Sam, slipping on a piece of fallen poo, yelped as she lost her balance and fell down atop Erin.
The pile of poo squished between the two of them, spreading all over each woman’s torso. For a second, they were looking into each other’s eyes, their faces inches apart. Then they were kissing, their tongues entwining with each other with passionate enthusiasm. After a minute, they broke off.
“I didn’t know you were gay!” said Erin breathlessly.
“I’m not!” replied Sam. “At least, I didn’t think I was. I certainly didn’t know you were.”
“I’m bi,” said Erin. “But I haven’t really been with a woman before.”
“We should clean up before someone comes in,” said Sam.
“In a bit,” said Erin, and she kissed Sam again. This time their arms encircled one another, and they pressed their bodies together, squishing poo out on both sides. Sam grabbed a handful, almost without realizing, and brought it down to between Erin’s legs. She pressed it into Erin’s naked pussy, and the young woman moaned with pleasure. Sam stuck two very messy fingers up into Erin’s cunt, and Erin ground her hips against Sam’s hand. Then Erin reached into the trash bag and found there was still a fair bit of poo left in there. She pulled out a handful and rubbed it into Sam’s pussy, pushing bits into Sam’s cunt.
Five minutes later, their ruined clothes torn off and discarded, the two women writhed together naked, covered with poo, and locked at the lips. Then, the thought of discovery occurring to both of them at the same time, they drew apart.
“What are we going to do?” asked Erin. She was not really scared – just a little apprehensive, and very much turned on.
“Well, we could try to clean our clothes, but I think most of them are torn,” said Samantha.
Erin nodded glumly.
“Alternatively,” continued Sam, “we could flush all our clothes down the toilet, and see what happens after that.”
Erin’s eyes became saucers. “What? You’re insane!” she exclaimed. “We both need our jobs, Sam … as tempting as your idea sounds, we couldn’t possibly remain employed here if we flushed our clothes. As it is, I don’t know how we’ll avoid getting fired.”
“So you are tempted?” asked Samantha with a smile.
Erin closed her eyes and shook her head. “Good grief Sam, what are you doing to me?” she whispered.
She got to her feet, picked up her torn and messy blouse, found her skirt and panties, then retrieved her bra and her shoes. Taking them into the toilet stall, she dropped them one by one into the bowl, and flushed them. Then she came back out, lay down next to Sam, and snuggled up close.
“Now,” said Sam, “let’s get my clothes clean.”
Erin sat bolt upright and stared at Sam in alarm and fear. But Sam laughed.
“I’m just kidding,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry – I plan to flush mine too.” She sat up and got to her feet.
Erin, naked and vulnerable, looked up at her seriously. “I don’t mind if you don’t,” she said. “You can clean your clothes and get dressed, and walk out of here leaving me naked and helpless, and I’ll still be yours.”
Sam bent down and kissed Erin. “But I’d feel like such an evil bitch,” she said. She took her own clothes into the stall and flushed them, one by one, until she had not a stitch left – not even her shoes. As vulnerable now as her new lover, she came out and said, “Okay, let’s wipe up this mess and escape out of the window.”
They spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning themselves and the toilet intensively, and flushing all the poo, the paper they used, and the plastic trash bag down the pan. Finally, naked and nervous, though excited, they kissed passionately but briefly before opening the window and climbing out. Erin went first, and as Sam followed she heard a voice outside the door saying “What’s going on in there?”
Outside the window, there was a short drop to the fire escape. Giggling like schoolgirls, they descended as quickly as possible before anybody inside thought of looking out of the window in the toilet. But halfway down, Erin said, “Oh damn it! My purse is still inside! It has my car keys and everything!”
“Mine’s inside too,” said Sam. “We’re truly in trouble! But isn’t it fun?”
“It’s scary!” responded Erin, but she continued to descend, her naked breasts bouncing uncomfortably, until they had both reached the bottom. They were in a narrow alley, filled with garbage.
“How far is it to your place?” asked Sam.
“Too far – several miles,” said Erin. “How about yours?”
“Same,” replied Sam. “Do you know anybody around here? A friend or family member?”
“Nobody,” said Erin. “You?”
Samantha shook her head. They really were in a lot of trouble, but somehow she did not feel frightened – not truly. It helped, of course, that she was sharing her predicament with someone. She looked at Erin and smiled. The younger woman had a lovely body – not very slim, perhaps, but her awesome breasts made up for that. And she had a pleasantly pretty face, with pale brown, wavy hair that bounced around her shoulders whenever she moved her head. She was lovely.
“Maybe we should hide out nearby until everyone’s left the office,” Erin suggested. “Then we could sneak back in, get our purses, and call a cab.”
“No good,” said Sam. “They lock the building up tight, and there are motion sensors inside – we’d trigger the alarm even if we managed to break in, which is unlikely as it’s all double-glazed. Plus, if we haven’t returned or contacted them by the end of the day, Toby will probably call the police or something, and our purses will be taken away.”
“Damn!” said Erin. “We’re really stuck!”
It occurred to Sam that if she could persuade a passer-by to lend her a cell phone, she could call Frank and have him bring the purses down. She got on quite well with him, and he was a nice (if rather chauvinistic) guy. She could probably trust him to keep their secret. But this seemed like an easy way out. It would be more fun to do this the hard way.
“Go to the end of the alley,” she said to Erin, “and see if you can persuade a nice young man to come in and lend us his cell phone. We can call the office and stop them from doing anything rash, at any rate, while we figure out what to do next.”
Erin looked a little panic-stricken, but she said “Okay.” She trotted barefoot towards the main street, sticking to the wall and trying to keep her breasts and pussy covered. Sam waited behind, taking cover between two dustbins.
A minute later, Erin returned leading a teenaged boy. He looked nervous, as if expecting an ambush, but his eyes were round and kept straying to Erin’s lovely naked body.
“Hi,” said Samantha, crouching low behind one of the bins. “Could we borrow your cell phone? I think we’ve already paid.”
The lad chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you have,” he said. “What’s all this about?”
“It’s a dare,” said Erin. “But it’s gone wrong and we’re stuck out here with no way to get our clothes back.”
“What’s your name?” asked Sam.
“Steve,” said the boy. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Sam, and this is Erin,” said Sam. “The phone please?”
Steve nodded and passed it to her. She dialed Toby’s number.
“Toby Marshall speaking.”
“Toby!” she said. “It’s Sam.”
“Sam! Where the hell are you and Erin?”
“We had an accident – you know, with the bag. We kind of collided in the doorway to the toilets.”
“Oh. Heck, that sounds nasty! So where are you now?”
“Outside – we just couldn’t face the others in the state we were in. I’m really sorry but can you manage without us for the rest of the day? We seriously need to get home and cleaned up properly.”
“Uh, sure, but haven’t you left your purses here?”
“We’ll be fine – just leave them there and we’ll get them tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, perfectly sure. See you tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
Sam hung up and passed the phone back to Steve. “Okay Steve,” she said. “I don’t suppose you have a car, do you?”
“I’m fifteen,” he said.
“Oh,” said Sam. “Never mind then.”
“But my brother’s got a car, and I can get him here in twenty minutes or so,” said Steve.
This idea made Sam nervous. “How old is your brother?” she asked.
“Twenty-four,” said Steve. “Do you want me to call him?”
Erin and Sam looked at each other, and Erin shrugged. “Okay,” said Sam. “Yes please – that would be great.”
Steve called his brother, and wandered away from the women, talking excitedly about ‘naked chicks’. Soon he returned. “Okay, he’ll be here in half an hour,” he said.
There was no choice for the women but to huddle naked in the alley while Steve looked them over appreciatively. Sam tried to engage him in conversation, but he seemed distracted. It was a relief when his cell phone rang and he guided his brother to their location. A smallish SUV pulled up at the end of the alley, and Sam and Erin hurried towards it with Steve following behind (and watching theirs).
A door was pushed open and Sam climbed in. She was rather dismayed to see that there were three men in it, all in their mid to late twenties. All of them eyed her breasts and shaved pussy with undisguised lust in their eyes.
“Hi,” said the driver. “I’m Todd, Steve’s brother.” He gestured to the man in the passenger seat. “That’s Jimbo – he’s a friend of mine.” Jimbo nodded. “And that,” continued Todd, indicating the man sitting at the near end of the back seat, “is Mickey.”
“All right, darling?” said Mickey.
“Hello,” said Sam, and climbed over Mickey to sit at the far end of the back seat. Erin climbed in after her, and sat in the middle, looking very uncomfortable. Both women were now more than a little scared, and the word ‘rape’ crossed their minds.
“Now,” said Todd, “where can we take you?”
“Hey, make room for me,” said Steve.
“Push off, Stevie,” replied Todd. “You’re too young to be looking at naked women. Close the door will you Mickey?”
Mickey closed the door in Steve’s crestfallen face, and Todd drove off.
“My apartment please,” said Sam. She gave him directions.
“And how do you intend paying for the ride?” asked Todd.
Erin and Sam looked at each other nervously. “We’re not hookers,” said Sam. “So don’t expect sexual favors. Obviously we don’t have any money on us, and I don’t have any cash at home. My purse is at work and I won’t be able to get it until tomorrow.”
“Hmm, I was kind of hoping for a blow-job,” said Todd, and his friends laughed unpleasantly. “However, how about we compromise. I have a digital camera – how about we take some pictures of you?”
Sam and Erin looked at each other again, and Erin shrugged. “That would be okay, I guess,” said Sam. “Ten photos, no more, no less. And you have to promise not to put them on the internet.”
“Scout’s honor,” said Todd. “But let’s make it twenty.”
“Fifteen,” said Sam.
“Deal,” said Todd, “as long as we get to choose the poses.”
“Okay,” replied Sam, who had figured this would be the case anyway.
“We’ll take the photos at my place,” said Todd. “When we’re done, I’ll take you to your apartment.”
Samantha’s jaw dropped, but she could say nothing. She had agreed after all. Erin’s hand sought hers, and she gave it a squeeze of reassurance that she did not herself feel.
Twenty-five minutes later, they arrived at a house in the suburbs. They all got out, and the women hurried up to the front door, covering themselves as well as they could. Todd opened the front door, and the sounds of a loud party met their ears.
The house was full of people, all the same approximate age as Todd and his friends. Most were men, but there were a couple of women, who looked at Sam and Erin disdainfully. The guys all whooped, cheered and wolf-whistled.
“What would you like to drink?” asked Todd.
“Nothing thanks,” replied Sam. “Can we just get the photos over with?”
“What’s your hurry?” said Todd. “Sit down and relax a while.”
“The photos!” insisted Sam, “or I scream the place down and say you and your friends raped us in your car!”
“Hey, take it easy!” said Todd, annoyed. “Wait here then, and I’ll get the camera.”
He disappeared upstairs, leaving Sam and Erin in the middle of the living room, feeling very exposed. All eyes were on them, and they heard plenty of scornful remarks directed at them.
“What’s your story?” asked an overweight young man who was sitting on the couch.
“It’s a long one,” sighed Sam.
“Thanks,” said the man, “but what’s your story?” This drew appreciative laughter from his friends.
Sam tried to act more confidently than she felt. She laughed a little. “Good one,” she said. “Well my friend and I were on a dare, only it backfired and left us locked out of our office building. We didn’t dare risk our boss’s wrath by trying to sneak back in through the main entrance in the nude, so we collared the nearest person and asked for help. That was Todd’s brother, Steve. He called Todd, and here we are.”
“So are you staying here a while then?” asked the portly gent.
“No,” said Sam. “Todd wants to take pictures of us as payment for our ride. Then he’ll take us home.”
“Cool,” said another young man. “What sort of pictures?”
“Nothing dirty,” said Erin hastily. “Just nude poses.”
“Okay, here we go,” said Todd, coming back downstairs with his camera. “Fifteen photos – count them off, someone. Now, for the first one I’d like Sam on her back on the floor, with her legs apart…”
“Hey, steady on,” said Samantha sharply.
“You agreed – any pose I choose,” Todd reminded her. “Now get to it.”
With a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Sam lay down on the floor, on her back, and parted her legs slightly.
“Knees up,” said Todd, “and come on – spread them way more than that. Wider. Go on, wider! Wider still! Okay, that’ll do I guess.”
Sam’s legs were almost as wide apart as she could stretch them, and the men in the room were crowding round her, staring at her naked pussy. Her vagina and anus were both on full display. Just then, a cockroach dashed out of her cunt and ran up her pussy on to her belly. She flicked it off.
Immediately there were cries and exclamations of disbelief. “Did you see that?” “What the hell was that thing!” “Dude, she keeps roaches in her cunt. Awesome!” “What a filthy slut – I bet she’s crawling with lice and fleas too.” “Kill it, somebody – I don’t want fucking roaches loose in this house.” “Hey, I wonder what else she stuffs up there…” “Do you think she keeps slugs and shit up her anus?” “Yeah, I imagine she does keep shit up her anus, you ‘tard.”
“Just take the fucking photo!” yelled Sam.
“Not yet,” said Todd. “Erin, I want you to sit down next to Sam, with your legs wide apart too, and I want you to put your finger in Sam’s cunt.”
“Hey, no sexual favors I said!”
“Hey, I’m not asking for any sexual favors,” smirked Todd. “I’m just putting Erin in a pose.”
Erin sat down beside Sam, looking ill, and she spread her legs as wide as Sam’s. Then she reached out with one hand and slipped one finger into Sam’s vagina. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” Sam muttered back. “Rather yours than theirs. Much rather.”
Todd took the photo. “Now,” he said. “I want you on all fours, Erin. Spread your knees apart, and arch your back. That’s good. Look back at the camera. Now Sam, you do the same, next to Erin, but a bit nearer to me, and put a couple of fingers in Erin’s anus.”
“Oh, no way!” said Sam.
“It’s okay Sam,” Erin said, putting a hand on Sam’s arm.
With a sigh, Samantha complied. Erin stiffened as the first finger went in, and whimpered a little at the introduction of the second. Then the camera flashed, and that was two.
“Hey, look what I’ve got,” said one of the guys. He had apparently just come back from the kitchen, for he was holding a bunch of bananas.
“Excellent!” said Todd, taking the bunch. “Good job, Neil. Okay Erin, get on your back with your legs spread. Sam, I want you on top of Erin, kissing her. And both of you, stick one of these in your cunt.” He tossed them a couple of bananas.
“What? Fuck you!” said Sam. “This has gone too far. You said poses – you said nothing about props!”
“Hey!” said Todd angrily. “I don’t remember you saying ‘no props’ either, so it’s just tough luck for you. Now shove a fucking banana up that cunt of yours, or I’ll do it for you!”
“You just try it,” said Sam, “and I’ll see you rot in jail for the rest of your adult life!”
That steadied him a bit. “Nobody’s going to touch you,” he said at last. “But you agreed to these photos, okay? No bananas, no lift home.”
Erin picked up one of the bananas. “How about some lube then?” she said.
Sam turned to her in surprise. “Are you serious?”
Erin shrugged resignedly. “What choice do we have? The sooner we get through this, the sooner we’ll be out of here.”
A tube of KY jelly was fetched, and Sam and Erin lubed up their bananas. Then each inserted one into her cunt, and the entire room burst into spontaneous applause. Sam climbed on top of Erin, and Todd took the third photo.
After that it was not too bad. Todd did not have the greatest imagination, it turned out, and the rest of the pictures were variations on the first three themes. At one point, he wanted Erin to put her fist in Sam’s cunt, but both women refused point blank, and Todd backed down. Eventually, the fifteenth photo (Sam licking Erin’s clitoris while sticking a finger in her own anus) was taken, and Sam demanded that Todd fulfill his side of the bargain.
“All right, all right,” he said. “Come on then.”
“Could you lend us something to wear?” asked Erin.
“Clothes,” replied Todd, “were not part of the deal.”
And so, still naked, Sam and Erin hurried back out to the car, and Todd drove them to Sam’s apartment. They got out, and he drove off with a squeal of tires.
“Come on!” said Samantha, hurrying Erin towards the entrance of the building. Once inside, she knocked on the door of the superintendent’s office.
“I’ve locked myself out,” she said to the astonished man. “And I’m naked. Could you let me back in please?”
The man was only too happy to accompany the two naked women upstairs, and he let them into Sam’s apartment without objection. Sam thanked him, and the two women entered, Sam closing the door behind her.
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Erin, gaping in shock at the wall-to-wall carpet of cockroaches. “You said your apartment was infested, but … I had no idea!”
“I know,” said Sam. “I’m sorry.”
”Ugh, they’re climbing on me!” cried Erin, stamping her feet to dislodge them. “How can you live like this?”
“Because I don’t have a choice,” said Sam. “The GM says he’s not prepared to pay for any more exterminators, so we have to pay for them ourselves if we have a bug problem. And I just can’t afford it.”
“Shit!” Erin looked around in dismay. “Listen Sam, I’m very keen to spend more time with you, but I don’t think I can do it here. This would drive me nuts in about five minutes.”
“I understand,” said Sam sadly.
Erin was instantly contrite. “Wait,” she said, “I’m sorry. If it’s what you want, I’ll spend some time with you here. I’ll even sleep over. It will just take some … adjusting, that’s all.”
Sam smiled at her, and then kissed her on the lips. “Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot to me. But in the meantime, I’m kind of stuck for clothes to wear to work tomorrow. My jacket’s still at work, but it’s covered with vomit. And my skirt’s somewhere in the sewer system by now. I need to go back to Mr. Howell’s shop. Except I don’t have any money,” she added mournfully.
“I’ll buy you a new suit,” said Erin generously. “If they only cost fifty bucks, I don’t mind. I’ll even get one for myself.”
“Thanks,” said Sam. “That’s sweet of you. But I’ll pay for myself – I just wish my cards weren’t all at work.”
“Why don’t we put on some clothes, head back to work, get our purses, and then go to the shop?” suggested Erin.
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Sam, “except that we’d have to face our co-workers. And once we’re there, Toby would put us right back to work.”
“Oh, I suppose he would,” said Erin glumly. “Well, perhaps we could turn up at half-past four … or even four o’clock. Toby would hardly insist that we stay for such a short time.”
“Okay, that sounds like a plan,” agreed Sam. “I have enough loose change squirreled away here to cover a couple of bus fares. But how shall we kill the time until we need to go?”
Erin grinned. “How indeed?” she asked.
They cleared the bed of cockroaches, but after only ten minutes of love-making, the roaches were back and crawling all over them both. Erin was pretty freaked out, but tried not to show it, even when a couple of them crawled into her cunt.
Some time later, they got dressed in some of Sam’s clothes. Erin was intrigued by Sam’s thongs, and wore one of those along with Sam’s light flowery skirt and a halter top, and Sam herself wore the schoolgirl costume skirt along with a tank top. Neither wore a bra, which made Erin nervous although she was excited at the prospect of going out like that. Fortunately their feet were almost the same size, so Erin borrowed a pair of Sam’s shoes.
Thus they went back out, and caught the bus to where they worked. When they arrived, at a little after four o’clock, they went up to their office and found it almost empty. Only Thomas was there.
“Where is everyone?” asked Sam.
“Frank’s at his meeting, Amanda had a half-day today, Toby’s gone to see Janet, and I think Vicky’s in the toilet. What the hell happened to you two earlier? And why are you dressed like hookers?”
“We’re not!” said Sam hotly. “We’re going clubbing this evening – this is our club-wear.”
“Bras aren’t allowed in clubs?” he inquired.
“Are you making sexist remarks?” Sam demanded.
Thomas paled. “No, of course not,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Good.” Sam turned on her heel and walked down the length of the office to her desk. She picked up her jacket and purse, and returned to meet Erin, who had retrieved her own purse. “All set?” she asked, and Erin nodded.
They left quickly, before Vicky had a chance to reappear, and were soon in Erin’s car, heading back towards where Samantha lived. They parked, and walked the short distance to Mr. Howell’s shop. Upon entering, they were met by the old tailor himself.
“What a pleasant surprise to see you back so soon!” he said to Samantha. “And you have brought a friend! A pleasure to meet you, young lady. What can I do for you both?”
Sam held out her jacket. “Firstly,” she said, “I’m afraid I had an accident with this. On the bus this morning a young boy was sick on me. And I’m afraid the skirt is beyond repair. Is there any chance I could buy another skirt to the same measurements, and get this jacket cleaned, before tomorrow?”
Mr. Howell’s eyebrows rose. “Before tomorrow? That is a bit of a tall order, Madam.”
“I realize that,” said Sam. “But perhaps we can make it worth your while. I also need to buy another blouse, and my friend Erin here would like to be measured for an entire outfit, just like you did for me.”
Mr. Howell’s smile was beatific. “I am positive we can work something out,” he said. “We still have the measurements for that skirt of yours, and I am sure we can make another before we close today. I will have to get right on that, of course. As to the jacket, I will personally deliver it to the dry-cleaner next door. I send a lot of business their way, and I am sure they will do me the favor of cleaning this as a matter of urgent priority. Now, if you could take Erin to the fitting area, I will be back shortly.” He took Sam’s jacket, and hurried off.
“He gives me the creeps,” said Erin with a small shiver.
“You just wait,” replied Samantha with a smile. “He’s a complete pervert. But in a harmless way, you know.” She led Erin to the back of the shop, and into the middle of the fitting area. There they waited for Howell to return.
He did so, ten minutes later. “That’s all arranged,” he said. “Now, let’s see about getting you all measured, Erin.”
Within minutes, Erin was completely naked, and staring speechlessly at Sam as Mr. Howell managed to slip a finger between her labia while taking her inside leg measurement. Sam watched with barely concealed amusement.
Later, as Howell was busy shaving Erin’s pubic hair, Sam said to him, “Do you think you could give me another shave while I’m here? I’m beginning to sprout a bit.”
“Certainly!” said the tailor in some surprise. “If you could slip out of your skirt and panties…”
Within another ten minutes, he had both of them naked and freshly shaved. “I’d like to try a new product on you,” he said. “It’s a depilatory cream – may I? I won’t charge you for it.”
Samantha shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “Anything to delay re-growth.” Erin also nodded.
Howell fetched a small tub of cream, and began to rub it into Sam’s pubic mound. He worked it in very thoroughly, one finger managing to remain between her pussy lips at all times, rubbing back and forth, and he worked it all the way back to her anus, one finger accidentally sliding right inside her vagina on the way there.
“Thank you,” said Sam, when he had finished.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, and moved on to Erin, who gasped at the presumptuous touch, but relaxed a little when Sam winked at her.
“So how long will this last?” Sam inquired when he had finished.
“Oh, it’s permanent,” said Mr. Howell. “The follicles will never re-grow now. You need never worry about shaving again.”
Both women gasped in astonishment, not sure how to take this. Their first instinct was outrage, but… “That will save us a lot of time and effort in the future, won’t it Erin?” Sam finally said.
“I guess so,” said Erin faintly.
“Now,” said Howell. “Perhaps you’d like to try on some thongs, Erin?”
Erin nodded, and he fetched some of the skimpiest thongs he had to offer. Erin chose the skimpiest, and also asked to try on some of the string-fronted panties. Mr. Howell was only too happy to oblige. Then he brought her some transparent bras, and a couple of blouses. Both women picked one out, since Sam had flushed hers that morning.
“Do you have any tank-tops?” asked Sam. “Also, I’d like to try on some other miniskirts – ones that aren’t part of a suit, I mean.”
Mr. Howell nodded. “Certainly,” he said, and he disappeared for a while.
“He’s outrageous!” whispered Erin to Sam in astonishment. “How come he’s never been sued?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Sam, “but are you planning to sue him?”
“Well, no … but I might have if you hadn’t gone through the same thing.”
When the tailor returned, he offered them a number of tops to try on, as well as several skirts. Erin ended up choosing two very revealing tops and a tiny miniskirt, while Sam picked out an even tinier skirt along with a very sheer tank-top.
They got dressed and paid for all their stuff at the till – it came to one hundred and twenty dollars, all told. As Erin was heading for the door, Sam murmured to Howell in a low voice, “Make hers even skimpier than mine.” She did not wait for a reply, but hurried after Erin.
Back in the apartment, the women stripped naked and fell into bed, heedless of all the roaches. They made love until they were spent, and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Sam awoke to the sounds of screaming. She sat up quickly, opening her eyes, and saw Erin’s naked body being hauled away by two demons through the crack in the far wall. She leaped out of bed.
“Noooo!!” she cried, and ran across the room after the receding forms. She dashed through the crack and found herself in the purple flesh-lined tunnel, and here she slowed on account of the sticky, squishy floor. She soon found that she must crawl on all fours if she was not to get stuck, but this meant that the demons gained on her rapidly.
Her quarries were soon out of sight, but Samantha doggedly continued her pursuit. The tunnel led downhill for what seemed like a mile before coming to its first major junction, and here Sam had no idea where to go. At random she picked the right-hand fork, and began crawling down it.
Tentacles began to emerge from the tunnel walls – long, writhing, pink tentacles, dripping slime and with bulbous ends. She tried to crawl faster, but her arms and legs were quickly encircled, and she found herself pulled against one wall with her limbs spread out. Probing tentacle tips found first her vagina and then her anus, and she screamed as both orifices were forcibly penetrated. Lubricated with slime, they slid in easily and began thrusting hard.
She lost track of how long she was kept there. It may have been two hours – it may have been five. But eventually, a demon walking down the corridor pulled her down from the wall, impaled her on its huge penis, and took her further down the tunnel, away from the tentacles. After a couple of minutes it brought her into a small cavern, the floor of which was seething with squirming snake-like creatures. Her demon waded through them to the far side, where a black door was set into the cavern wall. It swung open as they approached, and they entered a small room.
Erin was there, strapped down to a table. Her belly was huge – she looked nine months pregnant – and she was screaming. A grinning demon was thrusting a very thick and knobbly rod in and out of her anus, and a couple of others were showering her chest with maggot creatures, which were then burrowing into her breast flesh.
“Erin!” shrieked Sam.
Erin turned frantic eyes on Sam. “Help me!” she screamed.
But Samantha was led past the table, to another door, which also opened of its own accord. They entered a different room, and here Sam was lifted off her captor’s penis and thrown on to the floor at the feet of another, larger demon. This one was perhaps ten feet tall – his penis was truly gigantic, and fully erect.
“You are doomed to torture and rape forever,” said the huge creature in a voice like gravel sliding down a metal chute. “Samantha, you have been chosen to bring Hell into the world.”
The voice was so sure, so dispassionate, so matter-of-fact, that it did not occur to Sam not to believe him. Her jaw merely dropped, and she burst into tears. “Why me?” she said.
“I am going to impregnate you with a plague that will infect all of humanity and bring it under my dominion,” continued the demon. “First, though, I will have you for myself.” It lifted her up as if she were a doll, turned her round, and lowered her on to its mammoth penis. Samantha struggled and screamed, but in vain. The head of the demon’s member pushed at her anal opening, which began to open up unwillingly.
The demon’s penis was seven inches wide – there was no way it could fit inside her rectum without considerable damage, and it did not. Samantha screamed her lungs out as her flesh tore, and thirteen or fourteen inches of the huge cock slid slowly between her distorted buttocks. Then the thrusting began, with a whole catalogue of new agonies. With each thrust the penis drove deeper, until fully two feet of it was buried in her. She tried not to think about the damage it was doing to her insides.
It was more horrible and awful than anything that had yet happened to her, yet after an hour she became more inured to the pain, and could think clearly enough to gasp, “What about my friend? You don’t need her. Please let her go.”
The demon laughed, a noise like gravel being shaken inside a metal barrel. “She has been filled with the seed of a new breed. It will provide entertainment for us in the days before your own infestation takes effect.” It continued thrusting for a while, but then it seemed to have second thoughts. “I will let her go if you do what I tell you.”
“Anything,” panted Samantha.
“Go into that room, and tell my demons to cut off her breasts. Tell them to put one of them inside her cunt, and the other inside yours. Tell them you want them to do it. Make sure she hears you. I will then intervene, and allow her to leave.”
Samantha gulped. “Okay,” she said. She could not imagine what Erin would think when she heard her say those words, but she had no choice. She should never have brought Erin to her apartment, and somehow she had to make amends.
The huge demon lifted Sam off its penis, and dropped her to the floor, where she collapsed in a heap, devoid of any strength. She lay there twitching feebly for ten minutes, before she managed to summon up the energy to get on to her hands and knees. Then, her anus still gaping wide open, she crawled towards the door. It opened, and she passed through.
Erin was now being anally raped by one of the demons. Her head was hanging limply over the side of the table, but she was still conscious. Sam reached the table and dragged herself to her feet. Tears sprang to her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak, and she looked everywhere but at Erin as she said, “I want you to cut off her breasts. Place one of them inside her cunt, and put the other inside mine.”
Erin’s head jerked up and she stared at Sam in horror. “What?” she screamed.
The demons grinned. Then one of them produced a knife, and pulled on one of Erin’s nipples. With a sawing action, he began to cut through the base of her breast. Erin’s scream of agony cut into Sam like a dagger.
“Noooo!!!” she screamed. One of the demons brushed her aside with a great arm, and she fell to the floor, winded. When she next looked, Erin was missing one breast, and a laughing demon was pushing it into her vagina. Then her other breast was cut off, and Sam was dragged to the table. Lifted high into the air, she felt a demon’s hand slide into her gaping anus, and then her legs were pulled wide apart and something soft and wet was shoved at her cunt. After a bit of resistance, it slipped inside her. And then, finally, she passed out.