This was sent to me by a woman named Mary on October 19th, 2008, with the promise of more to follow in subsequent days and weeks. I can't wait to see more, and once you read this through I'm sure you'll all agree!
Dear Mr Saxon,
My name is Mary, and I am writing to you at the request of my husband, Denis. We have been married for nine years, but only got into panty-pooping about five years ago. Actually you are to blame for this, ha ha, because Denis discovered your stories and persuaded me to give it a try. And to my surprise I quite enjoyed it! So panty-pooping became quite a regular part of our sex life, for a while at least.
Over the last couple of years, though, things haven’t been quite so good. I don’t want to give you details, but the ‘spark’ has just not really been there. I still love Denis very much, but unfortunately I succumbed to temptation about eight months ago and had a brief affair, which Denis found out about. It was a very difficult time. Denis threatened to leave me, which was understandable, but I managed to persuade him not to. He even spent a couple of nights in a hotel. When he came back I thought things might be okay, but he would barely talk to me and it was awful.
A week ago, Denis made a suggestion, completely out of the blue. He said that his company’s order processing clerk, Arlene, had just resigned, and he suggested that I take the position. He said this would allow him to keep an eye on me. I jumped at the chance! I didn’t really like my job much anyway and was happy to leave it. But it seemed that Denis had some additional conditions!
Now I’m going to tease you by not telling you immediately what those conditions were, haha! Really I should first tell you a bit about myself, and about Denis’s company. First, myself. I am thirty-two years old, five-foot-eight, nine-stone-four, with B-cup breasts that Denis says are my best feature. I have brown eyes, strawberry-brown hair, skin the colour of milky coffee (I am one quarter Kenyan, three quarters Scottish), and I consider myself to be quite attractive … perhaps an eight out of ten, if I try to be objective. Not model quality, but I do attract attention (and from some nice-looking men, hence the affair…) Okay … Denis, looking over my shoulder, has just told me that I look ‘exotic’ and that I am definitely model-quality, which is very sweet of him if not very accurate.
The most important thing about me, though, from your point of view, is probably the fact that I can poo without accidentally weeing at the same time … even if I’m desperate for a wee! I used to think everyone could do this, until I discovered otherwise. It’s a very useful talent for panty-pooping. I have another poo-related quirk, which is more annoying for me, but which Denis loves. And that is the fact that, unless I defecate every day, I can have accidents quite easily. Let me explain that. It’s like, some time after my last defecation, I’ll get the urge to poo, and if I hold it in, it goes away. But the longer I hold it in, the more frequently these urges come, and the longer they last, and the harder it becomes to hold the poo back. But just when I think I could hold on for a few more hours, an urge comes which is so strong and so painful that I just can’t keep the poo in, and I just HAVE to let it come out otherwise it feels like I will rupture something. I had a couple of accidents in public because of this, once when I was fourteen, which was horrible as I was with all my friends at the time, and once when I was a student, which was not so bad as I was quite close to my digs and managed to avoid detection until I got back.
Anyway Denis managed to persuade me to have a few accidents in public places after we got into panty-pooping (and incidentally when I say ‘we’ got into panty-pooping, it was only me doing the pooping. Denis just likes to watch.) I stopped doing it after a frightening encounter with a deranged middle-aged woman who thought that I had done it on purpose. Which, honestly, I hadn’t really … it was a proper accident, it’s just that I knew it was coming sooner or later and I was planning to stay in a public place until it happened. But that experience frightened me enough that I didn’t want to have public accidents any more, and Denis was very understanding and didn’t ask me to do that any more.
Denis is a director at a small business run by his friend Neil. It’s a software company, selling web-based applications that Denis does most of the development for. They are based in a small office in the east end of London, which is inconveniently far away from home. Denis used to work out of home but when he and Neil hired a fourth team member they decided they needed a proper office. Now there are eight people working there, not including Arlene who just left. All of them are men, now that Arlene’s gone.
So yeah, Denis suggested that I replace Arlene, and he strongly hinted that the future success of our marriage would depend on me taking the job. But he said that there were conditions, and this is where it gets kind of fun, because I know you’ve been wondering to yourself, “why is she telling me all this boring stuff?” Okay, so here are the conditions as Denis laid them out to me.
Number One: I have to start having accidents again. I have to hold it in as long as possible. I am not allowed to poo in the toilet any more, unless I am at home and literally can’t hold it in any longer. Now, I’ve always hated using public toilets, or even the toilets at work, for poo, so this is not a huge stretch for me, except that if I’m supposed to hold it in as long as I can, then I can’t help thinking that I’m bound to start having a few accidents at this new job, in front of Denis’s colleagues. So this is pretty scary. I said to Denis that I thought his colleagues would quickly decide that I wasn’t working out, if I started having accidents in the office, and he said it wouldn’t be a problem! He said that he had told them all (oh my god!) that I have a bowel condition, and I might lose control in the office.
I couldn’t believe he had told them this! Imagine going to work at a company when you know that all the employees have been told that you have a bowel condition and might have accidents in front of them all! It was so mortifying. But also it was sort of exciting to think that I had permission to have accidents in front of a bunch of people. Even so, I had a hard time believing that they would want me around, if I was likely to shit myself in their presence, and I told Denis this. He then explained to me that they had all agreed, by unanimous vote, that they were willing to put up with the risk of occasional nasty smells, in the light of Condition Number Two. And here is that second condition.
Number Two: I have to wear an outfit selected at random by a computer program that Denis has written. Actually I should qualify this. The program only tells me what to wear on my bottom half. Picking out a top half, shoes, and accessories … that’s all still up to me. But the program will select for me, at random, one of twenty-one items from my wardrobe.
Now you might not think that there is anything particularly bad about this, until I tell you what Denis has included in this list of twenty-one items. You see, I’ve always been fond of miniskirts and minidresses, and I have a bunch of them. And at Denis’s request, for sexy role-playing fun, I have shortened some of these to rather indecent lengths. So although I have some long trousers and long skirts and dresses in my wardrobe, there is a good chance that Denis’s program will pick out for me a skirt or dress that I would never in a million years have dreamed of wearing at my last job.
But I have to say that the thought of wearing some of those things to Denis’s workplace is really exciting. I asked him if he didn’t think it would be playing with fire, having me look so sexy in front of his colleagues, and he asked me bluntly if that meant I was likely to have another affair. I very quickly told him no, of course not, but that was all the warning I needed to make sure that I keep his colleagues at arm’s length. Honestly, that shouldn’t be too hard … none of them can hold a candle to Denis in terms of sex appeal.
Another thing you should know about me. I’m a statistics nut. I just love facts and figures, and record-keeping … I’ve kept a daily ‘weather diary’ for the past six years, recording the maximum and minimum temperature, rainfall, snowfall (ha!), barometric pressure, and cloud conditions … and I love to do little analyses and graphs showing trends and cycles. That kind of thing fascinates me. So when I took this new job of order processing clerk at Denis’s company, I decided to start keeping a record of what I wear each day, when and where I have accidents, and how much poo I produce each time. Denis is not so interested in this part, but he’s happy for me to do so, and I think he’s pleased that I’m throwing myself into it with such enthusiasm (though possibly he’d be happier if I was more embarrassed about it!)
Anyway, Denis suggested that I write to you and tell you what I am doing. He’s been a big fan of yours for years, although he has never written to you himself. His favourite stories are the Chloe stories, which I enjoy too although the descriptions of the huge amounts of poo get a bit too silly for my tastes (sorry, I hope you are not offended by that!) My own favourite story of yours is the Low Road story, which isn’t even a panty-pooping story, sorry, but I just found it so funny and sexy!
So anyway, Denis said that I should tell you about my situation, and, if you like, I’ll send you daily updates to tell you what outfit I was wearing each day, and the details of any accidents I might have. Or I could send you weekly updates if you prefer, with five days grouped together. My weekends, by the way, are my own … I can wear whatever I like and poo whenever and wherever I want. I suppose I could go to the loo late on Sunday night, and completely empty my bowels, and probably last at least until Tuesday before having an accident, but it seems to me that doing that would not be in the spirit of Denis’s instructions, so I think I’ll just treat the weekends like ordinary weekdays in terms of my poo habits … except that if I really need to go, I’ll just go. I won’t wait for an accident. I’ll save the accidents for weekdays. But I suppose it’s possible that we might go out to eat or to watch a film at the cinema, and I might get caught out! You never know! But I might just keep those details to myself.
So please let me know if you are interested in receiving emails updating you on my outfits and accidents. If you are interested, then I’m happy to email you every day, although if I’m tired the email might be really short, and say something like “Wore blue twenty-six inch skirt with white cotton panties, accident in bus on the way home”. But other times I might go into some details about the size of the accident, the reactions of the people around me, and so on.
Just so you have something to look forward to, let me list the twenty-one items from my wardrobe that Denis has put in his program for random selection. By the way he did include some code to prevent me from wearing the same item twice in one week, which is good. Anyway here’s the list, and I’ll start with the items you’ll be least interested in:
Trousers, black, 29” (by the way this measurement is the length of the garment, in terms of the distance in inches between my bottom and the hemline)
Trousers, tan, 28”
Trousers, white, 28” (my least favourite trousers! I’m not a big trouser-wearer, and to be honest I wouldn’t have minded if Denis had left my trousers out of his program, but I suppose there has to be some balance with some of the more extreme items! Actually having an accident in white trousers might be even scarier than an accident in a skirt, depending on how soft the poo is…)
Skirt, pale blue, 26”
Dress, turquoise, 25”
Skirt, deep pink with pale pink spots, 24”
Skirt, pale purple with blue designs around the lower half, 24”
Dress, pale pink and white, 21” (this is mid-calf length)
Skirt, purple, 6” (yes I know, quite a jump! I don’t have anything between mid-calf and mid-thigh … at least not now. I used to have a couple but one of them was old and worn and got thrown out, and the other one I shortened for role-playing … you’ll see it further down the list. I never wore miniskirts at my last job except very rarely on hot summer days.)
Dress, lime and white, 5” (my favourite dress! Very light and summery. It shows off my panties if I twirl too quickly!)
Skirt, pale yellow and white, 3” (one of my old clubbing skirts … still quite fond of it)
Dress, pale pink, 2” (quite form-fitting and sexy! Really not suitable for work…)
Dress, pink and pale yellow, 1” (have you got the impression that I like pink yet?? This was one that I shortened for Denis … actually I think it was the first one that I ever shortened for him)
Dress, pale blue with darker blue floral designs, 1” (this is snug and stretchy … it tends to ride up when I walk, bend over, raise my arms, or do just about ANYTHING. It’s very annoying but Denis loves it of course. I’d never wear it voluntarily.)
Skirt, mauve, 1” (I bought this in my student days and wore it to clubs and parties a lot. It looks old-fashioned now and I think that bothers me more than the length, when I think about wearing it to work!)
Dress, pale purple with white trim, 0” (now we get to the buttock-grazers! This one I’ve actually had since my early teens, and I never could bear to throw it out. When I was younger and shorter, it actually did cover everything with a bit to spare, but now it’s exactly on the same level as my buttocks, which means that if I bend over even slightly … you get the idea!)
Skirt, turquoise and white, 0” (another one I shortened for Denis)
Skirt, red and pale yellow (tartan), 0” (my naughty schoolgirl skirt! We got this from a website … I can’t BELIEVE Denis wants me to wear this to work! I suppose I should match it with a school-style blouse and maybe a tie…? What do you think??)
Skirt, peach, -1” (yes, that’s MINUS ONE INCH, meaning that it’s an inch ABOVE my buttocks!! I know your characters wear things like this all the time in public, but it’ll be a first for me! Even when I used to go clubbing I never wore anything this short. Anyway this was originally almost knee-length but I shortened it last year)
Dress, purple with pale purple swirls, -2” (originally a long skirt but it got stained … I would have thrown it out but of course Denis suggested I shorten it instead! But the stain was so high that it’s now unwearable in public … or so I would have thought!)
Dress, pale green, -2” (my shortest dress, by a whisker … we got it from a charity shop for role-playing purposes, and naturally I had to shorten it… I actually don’t like it very much … green isn’t my favourite colour and it’s just too BRIGHT. I hope it doesn’t come up very often, and not just because of the length!)
I’m actually getting quite juicy about the idea of wearing some of those last few items to work! Can you imagine me bending over a filing drawer, with my panties showing??? Or even standing up straight with my panties showing! Ooh, I’m shivering just thinking about it!
Anyway on to Condition Number Three, which is that I must use public transport instead of my car, for going to and from work. Denis claims that this is to help the environment, but that doesn’t make any sense because I could easily just get a ride to work with him, and that wouldn’t be any harder on the environment! Really I think he just wants more people to see me in little skirts and dresses and having accidents! Which is all very well, but I’m the one who’s going to have to go through this ordeal, and I’m not sure I can wear my shortest skirts and dresses on the train or on the bus. I’m okay (just barely) with wearing such things in the office, but not outside on the street and so on.
So Denis gave ground on that issue … I’m allowed to wear a coat over the top of my shortest skirts and dresses. I have two coats: a light one for cool or wet weather, and a heavier one for the winter. The light one covers my bottom with a couple of inches to spare, and the heavier one comes down to mid-thigh. Denis and I had quite a battle over when I should be allowed to wear a coat. My position was that I should be able to wear it with buttock-grazing hemlines, or anything shorter than that of course. Denis’s position was that a buttock-grazing hemline still means that my bottom is covered, so I should only wear a coat with skirts and dresses that have a Hemline Value of -1 or -2. (You follow that? That means a hemline of one or two inches above the buttocks … it was my idea! Buttock-grazing hemlines obviously have a Hemline Value of 0.)
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I let Denis win the battle, but only on the condition that I would be allowed to wear coats if the weather conditions required it. I don’t care how exposed he wants me, I refuse to freeze to death while standing on the platform at the train station! I realise that sometimes, even throughout the winter, my bare legs are going to get very cold, but if I can keep my upper body warm, I should be all right. Having grown up in the north of Scotland, I don’t feel the cold as much as some other Londoners I could mention (like Denis!)
I should mention Denis’s fourth and final condition, which is that I had to replace just about my entire collection of underwear. You might find this strange, but this was perhaps the hardest part for me! I loved my thongs and my boyshorts … I had hardly anything else. But Denis said that thongs and boyshorts are no good for holding poo, and I should switch to wearing exclusively bikini-style panties. I confess I threw a bit of a tantrum about this. But in the end he wore me down, and last weekend I went on a massive underwear shopping spree. In fact, I am quite pleased with some of my purchases, and in my updates I’ll tell you each day what kind of panties I was wearing. Denis insisted that I buy a bunch of cotton panties, which I was not very keen on but did so anyway … but most of my panties are more exciting: some satin, some silk, some sheer, and a couple of sexy lace panties. All are white or at least pale in colour, at Denis’s insistence. He says he wants them to shine out like a beacon if they peep into view, instead of disappearing into the shadows beneath my skirt and dresses. Great…
Unfortunately, once I got home, Denis was so pleased with my purchases that he insisted on adding them all into his program, so that they would be selected at random too. Now I had not been counting on this, and to be honest it’s a bit of a problem. First, what happens if the program matches up my shortest dress with a pair of sheer panties?? If my panties are going to be showing, I’d rather they not be see-through! Also, and this is an objection that Denis reluctantly agreed with, what if his program matches up my shiny pale-green satin panties with my tartan skirt? What a ghastly colour clash!
So anyway, we came to an agreement over this. If the panties clash with the skirt or dress (assuming the skirt or dress is short enough for this to matter), then I will be allowed to pick another colour of panties, but of the same material as the program chose. So in the green satin panties and tartan skirt example, I would go for a pair of white satin panties instead.
Right! Well now that the preamble is done, on with my first ‘progress report’. I’ve now been at my new job for five days, and here is what happened on those days…
Monday, 13th of October, 2008
Woke up feeling very full (my bowels, not my stomach, obviously). Suspected this would be an accident day … yikes! My first day! I hoped maybe I could get through the day and make it home okay, or perhaps, even better, I would get an irresistible urge to poo before leaving for work. Ran Denis’s program … oh no, not the white trousers! Sorry, I should do this properly:
Trousers: white, 28”
Panties: pale pink cotton
Top half: royal blue blouse with short sleeves and hidden buttons
I may not bother mentioning the top half in future … I don’t know. It seems a little irrelevant to the story … like mentioning whether the sky was clear or cloudy that day. Let me know if you have a strong preference one way or another.
Anyway, I left the house (before Denis, since he would be taking the car and would have a shorter journey time), then I caught the bus to the train station, caught the train to work, and arrived there at 8:25am. My hours apparently are from 8:30am to 5:00pm, with a half hour break for lunch. So anyway I spent the morning getting to know the job and my colleagues (who I’d all met, but didn’t know all that well … at least, some more than others). I was feeling increasingly desperate … the Urge came and went every few minutes, and I was almost sweating from the effort of keeping it in. The office is kept very warm, which I don’t think helped very much. I think warm temperatures speed up metabolic processes. That’s my theory anyway … I think it’s easier to hold in your poo when you’re feeling cold, because your body slows down its processes. I could be wrong!
At 12:42pm (see, I keep a record of everything!), I left the office and walked to the deli down the street. I knew that this was a bit risky, but I just had to get out of the office. I bought a sandwich and ate it at the deli, then I walked back to work, arriving at 1:13pm. Oops! 31-minute lunch! Fortunately nobody seemed to notice, or care.
By now I was REALLY desperate. But Denis had been very clear … I wasn’t allowed to go to the toilet to poo. Even doing a poo in my panties while standing fully-dressed in the toilet was not allowed. If I was going to do a poo in the office, it would have to be at my desk.
But of course I was determined not to let that happen … not on my first day! Denis’s colleagues had all been very nice, although I’m sure they were disappointed to see me turn up in long trousers instead of a microskirt … they all knew about Denis’s program and the reason for it. By the way I should just run through the list of Denis’s colleagues. There’s Neil, his boss … Neil is bald and overweight, but a really nice bloke. There’s no way I’d be doing this if Neil wasn’t fully supportive of both me and Denis for doing it. He took me aside at the start of the day to tell me that I should let him know immediately if any of his staff ‘bothered’ me, which was really sweet of him. Neil is 42 years old, and married, with two children, a boy and a girl aged twelve and six respectively. (Remember I record everything!)
Sitting across from me is Andy, our resident accountant/payroll/HR guy. He deals with all the money stuff basically, and there seems to be a lot to deal with. He’s 36, kind of nerdy-looking, slightly creepy. But he’s married, apparently, which I suppose just goes to show.
Then there’s Boff, the marketing director (a lot of directors here for such a small company!) Boff (and nobody will tell me his real name) is a really funny bloke, and really tall! Six foot six actually (I asked him). He plays basketball in his spare time, which seems stereotypical, but I’m sure he’s very good. He’s 32 (my age!) and is divorced with a three-year-old son who lives with his ex-wife. He’s seeing a single mother, too, which must make things complicated.
Next there’s Austen, who runs our network and does all of the hardware-related stuff. He’s 24 and has a really nice car, which he practically built himself. He’s “between girlfriends”, which is a shame because he’s not a bad-looking guy.
Then there’s Mickey, who does most of the coding for the applications. He and Denis work very closely together, with Denis doing most of the conceptual work and Mickey ironing out the finer details. Mickey is 29 years old, and quite a genius, though totally arrogant and hard to like. If I have any colleague-related problems while working here, they’re likely to be related to Mickey.
Then we have Robin, a really sweet, soft-spoken older man (51) who is our customer service manager. At least his title is ‘manager’ although he doesn’t actually have anyone working under him. Unless I’m under him … hmm! I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I am, but nobody’s said anything to be about him being my supervisor or boss or whatever. As far as I know I just report to Neil. Anyway Robin takes orders by phone, handles customer complaints, and deals with most of the huge number of emails that we get every day. He has grown-up children, one of whom has just had her first baby, making Robin a grandfather! Anyway I really like Robin.
Lastly we have Steve, our toilet cleaner. Haha, no, I’m joking, really his title is “Office Manager”, but he DOES do all the cleaning, as well as general office maintenance, ordering of supplies, and so on. He’s 39 and married with a 16-year-old daughter.
It occurred to me to wonder whether the wives or girlfriends of my colleagues would object to me wearing skimpy clothes around the office, and I asked Denis about this. He assured me that they had all discussed it, and it would not be a problem, but I can’t help worrying about what will happen if, for example, Steve’s wife shows up unexpectedly while I’m bending over a filing cabinet in my shortest dress (or even worse, while doing a poo in my panties!) I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
Wow, that was quite the digression! Anyway, at 2:45pm I finally lost control … or at least, the pain got so bad that I just HAD to push it out. It was a totally surreal experience … everyone was in the office apart from Neil, and I’m sure they quickly worked out what was happening. I leaned on my desk with my elbows, lifted my bottom off my chair, but with my thighs braced against the front edge of my seat … and I pushed it all out. Right there in the office! I couldn’t believe I was doing it! But once I’d started, I began to get really horny, imagining what they were all thinking. I couldn’t bear to look at any of them though. I knew they were watching me or at least paying attention to what I was doing, because they all stopped talking.
Oh my god, Arthur, that was a hell of a big poo! I hadn’t been since Saturday morning, and this was Monday afternoon. And it all went into my panties. Once I was done, I grabbed my purse, got up, and hurried to the toilet, which was fortunately unoccupied. Inside I pulled down my trousers, and found to my relief that there was barely a mark on them … just a little bit where it had oozed out of my panties a bit. But my poo was pretty dry and solid, like it usually is. It was in three distinct sections, one of which was softer and messier than the others. I got a big zip-seal bag from my purse, and carefully dumped the poo into it … I’ll explain why later. Then I cleaned myself up, had a wee just for good measure, and wiped my panties as clean as possible using dry toilet paper. I did a fairly good job. Then I went back out to my desk.
It still smelled rather bad out there, but … nobody said anything! Nobody! Anything! I felt rather sheepish whenever I had to talk to one of them, knowing what they were thinking, but for the rest of that entire afternoon nobody even mentioned my accident! It was bizarre. But nice … I’m glad none of them said anything. It made me feel a bit less like a bad employee.
When I got home, I weighed my zip-seal bag with the poo in it (you see? That’s why I kept it. Records!) It weighed 1.58 kg! That’s about 3.5 lbs, if you don’t like metric. Arthur, that’s a lot of poo! In a strange way, I actually felt quite proud of myself! I’m not in the habit of weighing my poo (at least I wasn’t, before Monday), but I’m pretty sure I don’t usually produce that much. I suppose I’ll find out over the course of the next weeks and months. I wonder how long Denis will make me do this? I can’t do it indefinitely! I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.
So anyway, I emptied out the bag into the toilet, and flushed the poo (it took several tries, and the help of the plunger … ugh!) I didn’t flush the bag because you should never flush plastic, Arthur! I hope you already know that. I just sealed it up and put it in the bin. Then I put my panties and trousers in the washing machine, and hoped the poo would come out of both. Fortunately, when I checked them afterwards, the trousers were spotless, and even my panties were looking pretty good … just a faintly discoloured patch where the thickest part of the poo had been. And that was the end of my adventure!
Tuesday, 14th of October, 2008
Woke up with a surprisingly full bowel … we’d had a large curry the previous night, which was probably a mistake, although I wouldn’t have thought it would have worked its way down that far yet. I was rather nervous as I went to the computer and ran Denis’s program. It instructed me to wear the following:
Dress: pale blue w/ blue floral print, 1”
Panties: white cotton
I know I shivered as soon as I read that. I found myself hoping that the weather would be really cold, and I would be able to justify wearing a coat. But Denis gleefully told me that it was actually quite pleasant outside, and so I resigned myself to wearing this silly little minidress which, as you may recall, has an annoying habit of riding up at the SLIGHTEST excuse.
But on the other hand, I was confident that today would not be an accident day, so I put a brave face on it, and held my head high as I rode first the bus and then the train to work. I kept having to pull my dress down, and I attracted a lot of stares, but I made it to work unmolested.
Oh my god, they loved the dress! I felt very embarrassed by all of the compliments, which were mostly ghastly attempts to tell me I looked sexy without actually coming out and saying it directly, which to be honest I would have preferred. But let’s see, Andy told me he loved my dress, and said that it was a really pretty colour … yeah, right! Steve practically drooled over me all day … I may have to have a word with Neil about him before either he gropes me or I punch him.
Mickey didn’t actually say anything to me about my dress, but he STARED at me whenever I was standing up or in a position from which he could see my legs. And he kept coming around to my side of the office, at the slightest excuse, so that he could stare at me some more. At one point I got up from my chair right in front of Mickey without thinking first, and belatedly pulled my dress down to cover my panties. He looked so happy! But not in a nice way… It was like he had scored a victory over me or something … it was quite unpleasant.
The walk to the deli seemed VERY LONG. It was a constant battle to keep my dress in place, and I didn’t appreciate all the looks that I got on the way to and from the deli. At one point I considered just letting my hemline rise up as far as it wanted, without attempting to pull it down, but I chickened out. I know that it would have thrilled Denis, and no doubt you too, Arthur! But I’m just not that brave, sorry.
Anyway there were no accidents at work, although as the afternoon wore on I became increasingly desperate. I was really surprised actually … after all, it had only been a day since my big accident, and already I was desperate again! Normally I can go a couple of days, but clearly that was not going to happen this time.
On the way home … you’ll get a kick out of this, Arthur … I came out of the train station just in time to see a bus already at the bus stop, and the tail end of a queue just disappearing inside. I foolishly decided to run for it, but collided with a woman who came unexpectedly around the corner of the bus shelter. I went sprawling, and of course my dress ended up around my waist. Some arsehole wolf-whistled at me! And a couple of other people laughed. I felt SO embarrassed, and of course I missed the bus, so I then had to stand around waiting for the next one, while all the gawkers carried on staring at my legs.
I got home after Denis, we had dinner, watched some TV, then I had a shower. Just before I climbed into bed, however, I got a really strong urge to poo, and I hurried through to the bathroom and just made it on to the toilet as it was starting to come out. I screamed at Denis to grab me a zip-seal bag from the kitchen, and fortunately he got it to me in time … or at least I managed to keep my poo from emerging too far before I got the chance to open up the bag and get it under my bottom. So I learned a valuable lesson there: keep some zip-seal bags in the bathroom next to the toilet! My poo, by the way, weighed 1.4 kg (3.1 lbs).
I should probably mention that I eat a very high-fibre diet, for health reasons. I should no doubt couple that with more frequent defecations, but if I did, then I wouldn’t have any accidents, and what would be the fun in that?
Wednesday, 15th October, 2008
Woke up feeling quite empty, not surprisingly. Denis’s computer program selected the following items of clothing for me to wear:
Skirt: pale purple with pale blue designs, 24”
Panties: white cotton (again! Ugh…)
I like this skirt, but I was a little disappointed not to be wearing something short. I was certain that this would not be an accident day, so wearing a long skirt seemed like a waste… But anyway, this was a much more productive day than Tuesday, and I learned a lot. I had lunch at the deli again … I figure this will be my regular thing. The walk to and from the deli is very ordinary with trousers or a long skirt, but with a very short skirt it is quite exciting, if rather scary, so I figure if I make that walk a standard part of my day, it will elevate the risk and excitement factor. I said as much to Denis, and he agreed that this was a good idea. I just hope I don’t have an accident in the deli … I wouldn’t want to get banned from there!
My bowels felt quite full again by the time I got to bed.
Thursday, 16th October, 2008
Woke up, had breakfast. Very quickly began to feel some pretty intense discomfort in my bowel area. Ran Denis’s program, which said:
Skirt: mauve, 1”
Panties: pale pink silk
I confess, Arthur, that I began to masturbate as I read this over and over again. You see, I was fairly sure that I would be able to hold in my poo until I got to work, and fairly sure also that I would not be able to last until I got home again. And I was going to be wearing an extremely short skirt (not a particularly nice one, but never mind), with a pair of ultra-flimsy silk panties underneath!
I did not know when or where the accident would occur, but the thought of it happening while I was wearing this outfit was intensely exciting, Arthur! I ran through to the bedroom and jumped on Denis, and kissed him until he flipped me on my back and had his way with me. While he was inside me, I fantasized about having an accident at work in my mauve skirt, which is so short that the poo would probably push the panties down below my hemline! So I imagined this pretty little pink silk-wrapped parcel of poo peeping below my mauve skirt, for all to see, and I had a wonderful climax!
So I was quite excited as I rode the bus and train to work. My colleagues, who had not been terribly enthusiastic about my long blue skirt, were clearly very happy with today’s skirt! I swear, though, Andy, Mickey and Steve are such creeps! It’s really quite interesting from an anthropological perspective how they all react to me, though. I could probably divide them all up into groups that way. Let’s see:
I suppose Denis, if he were not my husband, would probably fall into the ‘vocal gentlemen’ category, knowing him, although with definite leanings towards ‘vocal pervert’. Robin is a total sweetie, but he just can’t resist telling me how amazing I look, in a rather bashful sort of way. Boff is great, totally up front about it. He said something like “Holy shit, Mary, you look hotter than Hades!” with such an infectious air of excitement that I just had to laugh.
Neil ALMOST said something, and he certainly looked, but when he spoke he looked me in the eye and asked me something work-related. Definitely a nice bloke. And from the way Austen treated me, I might as well have been wearing a baggy orange jumpsuit … he seemed not to notice or care about what I was wearing at all. A little disappointing, actually! I wonder if he’s gay.
Anyway I got more and more desperate as the morning went on. At noon I started to panic, wondering if I was actually going to lose control at the deli. But it was not to be: at 12:20pm, I finally lost the battle, and had a medium-sized accident in my pretty pink panties. It was very exciting! But my excitement was tempered unfortunately by seeing Mickey come around to my side of the office to watch me do my poo. I didn’t want him to watch, so I picked up an empty file folder and held it next to my hip, obscuring Mickey’s view.
I could have done more, but Mickey was putting me off, so I stopped the flow a little prematurely. Then I grabbed my purse, and a ruler, and headed off to the toilet. Inside, my first act was to measure the distance from my hemline to the underside of the bulge in my panties, which, I could not help noticing, was indeed lower than my hemline! Taking this measurement was tricky, and I really could have used Denis’s help, but I got a result of 0.6 inches and I think this was pretty accurate.
All in all, it was a pretty good day! I loved wearing the skirt, which didn’t ride up annoyingly as I walked, and I had a public accident without getting into trouble! It was great! I still don’t like Mickey, but maybe I should just ignore him, and complain to Neil if he does something too out of line.
When I got home I weighed my poo: 0.95 kg (2.1 lbs). It wouldn’t surprise me if this was only half of what I had had in my bowels at the time of the accident … at any rate, by the time I went to bed, I was feeling quite full again.
Friday, 17th October, 2008
Woke up feeling very full … today was definitely going to be another accident day. I eagerly rushed through to the study to run Denis’s program:
Dress: pale purple and white, 0”
Panties: pale yellow sheer mesh
HOLY SHIT! I was both excited and scared at the same time. Sex with Denis helped my excitement to override my fear, but it was with trembling hands that I pulled on the dress that I had bought for myself at the age of twelve! Denis was effusive in his compliments, and he remarked that if I had an accident, it would definitely show beneath my hemline. I asked him if he would help me to measure the bulge when the time came, and he said that of course he would.
The bus and train journeys were highly embarrassing! The dress definitely looks like a girl’s dress rather than a woman’s dress, and no doubt everyone was wondering why a thirty-ish-year-old woman was wearing something so ‘young’. And Arthur! As I got off the train amid a crowd of fellow commuters, someone whispered something in my ear! It was hard to be sure, but I think he said, “Very sexy!” I couldn’t tell who had said it, there were so many people around. I’m almost surprised that I didn’t feel a hand on my bottom. I’m not sure what I would have done if I had.
Anyway of course the response from my colleagues was fairly predictable. I got WAY too much attention from Andy and Steve, and even Mickey got bold enough to tell me I looked great. While staring at my legs. What a creep. Maybe I should start unbuttoning my blouse a bit, just to draw his eyes up a little nearer to my face. I’m only joking, though … the last thing I want is to give Mickey any extra thrills.
I was desperate all morning, even more desperate (and anxious) at the deli, and still more desperate throughout the afternoon. BUT … and this was just incredibly annoying … I was able to hold back the flow, EVERY TIME! At four-thirty, during one powerful urge, I almost just ‘gave up’ and let my poo out, but I felt like this would not be an ‘honest accident’, of the type that Denis insisted that I wait for. So at five to five I went to the loo and had a wee, but didn’t let myself poo. And then I left the office … without having had an accident! How disappointing!
I suppose I assumed, at that point, that I would be able to hold on until I got home … but that wasn’t the case! While I was waiting for the train, I suddenly got an Urge that I couldn’t resist! My eyes were watering and I’m sure my cheeks were turning purple (maybe both sets!), but I just couldn’t hold on! I gave up and, in front of dozens of commuters, I started doing a poo in my panties!
Arthur, you have to remember that my dress only barely covered my buttocks, and that my panties were made of sheer mesh. When my poo started coming out, it must have immediately pushed my panties down below my hemline, and the mesh would have done very little to prevent people from seeing my actual poo!!!!!
I wanted to bolt for the toilet, which was about twenty yards to my right, but I had promised Denis that I wouldn’t take refuge in a toilet when doing a poo outside our house! So I stood there, terrified, while my panties filled up with a huge amount of poo! God knows what it looked like! Well, I can imagine, obviously, but I can’t imagine what everyone was thinking as they saw it! I can guess, though, from the gasps and comments that I heard behind me. I only heard snippets … things like “dirty slut” and “shameless” … enough to make me want to crawl into a hole and disappear! But at the same time part of me was quite excited!
I was almost done when a woman came around from behind me, took my arm, and asked if I was all right. She looked very concerned, bless her. Anyone else might have shouted at me or called me names. That might have been better, actually, because now I just felt kind of bad for making such a spectacle of myself in front of this nice woman.
So anyway I apologised to her and told her that I was having an accident, and as soon as I was finished I would go to the toilet to clean up. And bless her twice over! She spread her coat out behind me to stop people from staring at me while I finished my poo! I know that kind of spoiled the point of having a public accident, but I was grateful to her anyway.
Once I was done, I gave her a quick hug, and then hurried off to the toilet, accompanied by a chorus of laughter! They were laughing at me! It was very embarrassing. Anyway I didn’t have a ruler, which was VERY annoying and I made a mental note to keep one in my purse. I used my hand to measure the bulge, and made another mental note of whereabouts on my hand I would have to measure when I got home. Then I emptied my panties into a fresh zip-seal bag, cleaned my bottom and my panties (as well as possible), and left the toilet to catch the next train.
When I got home, I got a ruler and measured my hand, and estimated that my panties had been sagging about 2.5 inches below my hemline! Can you imagine???? And with the mesh stretched out around the bulge, the material would have been almost completely see-through!
I then weighed the poo: 1.45 kg (3.2 lbs). Not as much as Monday but still a lot!! When Denis got home I told him what had happened at the train station, and he was very excited to hear about it, but he said he wished he had been there. I wished that too! I said he ought to commute with me by public transport, so that he could witness any accidents and see people’s reactions to my skimpy outfits, but he said (with some regret!) that he needed to have his car with him at work. Which he does, actually, because he frequently goes out on company business from the office.
Anyway, so that was my week, and a very exciting, naughty and dirty week it was too! Sometimes it doesn’t feel much like a punishment, which I am sure is what Denis intended this to be, but other times I do feel a bit cheap and used. The fact that on some level I find this exciting, too, is nice if not entirely unexpected.
I hope you’ve enjoyed hearing about my new lifestyle! If you have had your fill of my adventures, and don’t want to hear any more, then just let me know and I won’t bother you again. But if you want more, then let me know and I’ll be happy to continue sending you updates! Just tell me whether you want them daily or weekly.
Oh, I suppose it’s possible that you might want to put my emails on your site…??? I don’t want to assume too much! But IF you do, then Denis and I will be quite happy for you to do that. In fact, this possibility is why I didn’t mention anybody’s last names. I realise that you know my last name from my email address, but please withhold it if you put my emails on your site!
Anyway, keep writing those sexy stories, and I hope to hear from you soon!
Mary
You'd better believe I wrote straight back to Mary and requested more! I asked for daily updates if possible, but I told her that weekly would be fine if that was more convenient for her. As of Thursday October 23rd I have not yet received any further updates - I'm hoping that she hasn't changed her mind. If and when she sends more updates, I will of course post them here.