I was stunned, and asked him if he meant me to keep my messy panties on until he got home. He said that since I had spent this long wearing them (ten hours by now), I might as well wear them another couple of hours so that he could see the evidence of what I had been through. Well, I knew he would not be home until six, and three and a half hours is more than ‘a couple’, but because I was no longer feeling so traumatized, I reluctantly agreed, on the condition that he would take me to work that night.
I had some supper, taking care not to sit down anywhere, and then I got ready for bed. I badly wanted a shower, so I disobeyed Doug and undressed so that I could have a shower. It felt so good to wash the crusty poo off my nether regions. Then I brushed my teeth, put my loaded panties back on, wrapped a towel around my middle, and climbed into bed, hoping that the towel would prevent the poo from getting on the sheets.
I figured Doug would wake me when he got home, but he didn’t. The next thing I knew was that my alarm was going off – it was ten to eleven. I didn’t remember about the poo in my panties until I tried to get out of bed and found the towel still wrapped around me. Then it all came flooding back, and I felt a mixture of shame and amusement.
I could hear Doug downstairs, watching television. I put on the clothes I had been wearing the day before, and went down to show him. He gave me a hug and a kiss, and then asked to see my panties. I felt shy all of a sudden, but I showed him, even opening up the front and the back so he could see inside. He was astonished (as I had been) at the amount of poo, and told me to hold still, whereupon he dashed upstairs. I didn’t know what he was doing until he returned a moment later with the digital camera. I was mortified – he was planning to take photos!
I refused to let him, but he begged and pleaded, and eventually wore me down. So I posed for a few pictures, even to the extent of setting up a little office-like area in the kitchen so that I could pretend to be on the phone, talking to a suicidal caller. It was actually kind of fun, in a way, though I suppose I should have been upset that Doug was taking advantage of my predicament, and having so much fun at my expense. Still, I love the guy – he’s worth it.
All of this took time, though, and I began to worry that I would be late for work. I asked Doug to stop taking photos so that I could make myself some sandwiches and get ready for work, but he kept coming up with new ideas for photos, and saying “Just a couple more, just a couple more!” I eventually promised him that we would continue the photo session the following evening, if he would only stop now. So he stopped, and I made my sandwiches. Then I rushed upstairs, took off my panties and placed them carefully on the edge of the bath, and gave my bottom a quick wash. I brushed my teeth, put on a bare minimum of make-up, changed into a fresh outfit, and then it was time to leave.
On the way to work, Doug confessed to me that he had greatly enjoyed my story of the previous day’s adventure. I told him I had guessed as much, since he was so keen on recording it for posterity on the digital camera.
We got to work just in time for me to relieve Sadie and Malcolm, who were both finishing up with calls as we walked in – Doug had asked if he could come in and see where I worked, and I didn’t see any harm in it. Janet was late again – as usual – so for a while I was alone with Doug. He suggested making love on my desk, but I told him not to be so naughty – Janet might arrive at any time. In fact the idea had some appeal, but I would hate to get caught in such a compromising position.
A couple of calls came in in quick succession – I picked up the first and forwarded the second to our Norwich branch, which has more people manning the phones. My caller was another teenaged girl – she was in love with an older boy but her parents wouldn’t let her see him. She was determined to either run away or kill herself and couldn’t make up her mind which to do. I of course was keen to talk her out of both options, and offer her a less drastic alternative.
While I was talking to the girl, Doug motioned for me to stand up. Puzzled, I did so, and he turned me towards the desk and then gently pushed my upper back. I bent forward and rested my elbows on the desk, guessing what he had in mind. When he put his hands up my skirt and started pulling down my panties, I almost laughed (thankfully I didn’t – that would have been awful for my caller!) When my panties reached my ankles I lifted first one foot and then the other, stepping out of them. And then Doug disappeared! I couldn’t believe it! I stood up and turned around, looking for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
At first I thought he’d left me, sans panties, and gone home, but then I decided he might merely have gone to the toilet. That’s what I hoped, at least, but in the meantime I was feeling a little exposed. I mean, I was wearing a skirt of course, but I don’t like to “go commando”, as they say.
Soon Doug returned, and I glared at him, though I was secretly relieved. He was carrying a plastic bag, but I barely noticed this as I was trying to concentrate on my call. Doug beckoned for me to turn around again, and I obediently faced forward and bent over the desk again.
I felt him take hold of my left ankle and try to lift it. Now I was really confused. If I hadn’t been so focused on the call I might have figured out what he was up to, and kept my feet firmly planted, but as it was I let him lift first my left foot and then my right. I felt my panties being pulled up my legs. Doug pushed against my right foot from the inside, and I moved it outwards so that my feet were spaced well apart. My panties climbed further up my legs, and then stopped again. My skirt was lifted up around my hips. By this time I was wondering what on Earth Doug was doing, but I soon discovered what I am sure you have guessed – and I actually squealed in horror as the cold tacky mass came into contact with my bottom. Doug pulled my panties up firmly, so that every part of the poo was pressing into my flesh, and then he lowered my skirt back into place.
Meanwhile my caller wanted to know why I had squealed. I thought quickly and said that a spider had just run across my desk and given me a shock. She sympathized and said she didn’t like spiders either. I let her talk for a minute as I turned around and glared at Doug – I was very annoyed with him for pulling this stunt. The poo in my panties had felt all right when it was warm, but now it was cold and clammy and highly unpleasant.