Merry Christmas everyone,
I've got a story from Christmas I think you guys will enjoy.
A group of us from my family had decided to go out for a quiet walk along a couple of the trails on boxing day. There was me, my sister, mum, dad, auntie and younger cousin. Before I get started my sister and I have pretty much the exact same schedules for pooping and I hadn't pooped in 3 days and with us being in the house over Christmas I knew she hadn't gone either.
We all got ready to leave for 10am and my sister and I shared the bathroom to go pee and clean our teeth before we left the house. I let out a huge pee which lasted about a minute and my sister let out a little dribble for a couple seconds with some drips...
We had been out walking about an hour and were still heading away from home when I started to feel a need to have my poo, letting out some quiet farts made the urge go away and I was quite happy again. Not even 10 minutes later my sister asked how long we would be to get home or to a bathroom cause she had to go. My mum told her to hold it or go into the woods and go there. She moaned about not being able to hold it and was given a small packet of tissues and told to go pee in the woods, as she wandered off I was ordered to help her to make sure she made it ok.
I caught up with her and she told me she really had to poo and it was already touching her panties. We made it far enough in to an area where we couldn't see the paths anymore and my sister quickly had her jeans and panties at her ankles letting her poo come out on its own. I went to the side of her nearer the tree and pulled my jeans and underwear down to mid thigh and gave a big push forcing 2 big long logs down onto the leaves below. A third log followed and I had a small spray a pee which became a dribble onto the leaves very quickly. I looked over to see my sister still with a poo hanging down so I used one of the tissues to wipe my bum and pulled my jeans back up and watched my sister finish off her poo with another couple small logs and a huge torrent of pee that lasted about a minute which splashed up off the leaves onto her panties and shoes.
Without wiping she pulled everything up looked at me and then sighed. We caught back up 5 minutes later and when asked if she went ok she said she made it just in time cause she was really desperate for a pee.
When we got home I went into the toilet after her to pee and clean up properly and saw her messy panties on the top of the washing pile, she told me later that her poo had been really dirty and had got her panties all dirty when they rode up and the walking had spread everything around.
Childhood experience that still haunts me todayBack in 4th grade when I was 9 I went through a time when I got pretty constipated. It was early in the year and I had a teacher I was a bit afraid of because he was my first male teacher. He went through one subject pretty fast, went onto the next, and there usually wasn't any down time when I could grab the bathroom pass which was this wooden 2 x 4 that had our classroom number on it, go down the hall to the toilets, and do my thing without drawing a lot of attention to myself. I don't remember how it happened, but there was this guy who sat in my row that I would have to pass coming back to my seat, and he always smirked and called me "CC" (it stood for Crappin' Carin). So I didn't have much confidence. Oh, and once or twice he even stuck his foot out and tried to trip me up. After about 3 days with no crap I would tell mom and she would give me a laxative. One of my friends suggested that I just lie and make up a story about my poop at school. But I didn't want too because while I hated the laxative, it did take away that bloated feeling and sometimes the burping that I really hated.
So one Thursday night I went to mom at bedtime, told her I was constipated, and she gave me a different laxative. The store had been out of my regular one, but she said it was basically the same thing. That was wrong. Because in the morning, I peed like normal, but I had no feeling in my bowels. Mom offered to call me out of school until the laxative kicked in, but I felt that would add to more of the "CC"
teasing. So I took off for my 3 block walk to school. It was a little chilly outside so I cut thru a large vacant field to save time. I stumbled some on leaves going down one hill until I came to a small retaining wall. It was only about a 2 foot jump down, but when my feet hit the ground, it seemed like my crap's chute door was ready to open. I could see the school a block down the street and about 50 to 60 kids waiting outside. Bad news. Because on good weather days we had to stand outside until the first bell rang. I knew I was early and that there was going to be a 10 to 15 minute wait. So we just stood out there and messed around while our teachers drove into the parking lot and entered with a swipe card they carried from the loading dock door.
The rumbling in my gut was getting worse and all of a sudden part of the group was watching a car slowly being lowered at a large repair shop garage directly across the street. I got to thinking that was an answer to my emergency and I could see the door to the bathroom right on the side of the building. So I pulled a couple of quarters out of my jeans pocket and I told my best friend I was going over to get some candy from the machine there. I figured I was the luckiest girl in the whole USA when I noticed the door to the womens room was slightly ajar. I quickly yanked the door open and latched it. The seat was down, there was a bowl of yellow pee, but I instantly tore my jeans and underwear down and what was to become my one-blast crap began just as my butt connected with the seat. I felt so lucky and fulfilled. I had a momentary scare as the fan system on the ceiling kicked on and was quite noisy. I had just reached for the toilet paper when I found the empty roll. A couple of seconds later the doorknob started to turn and an old lady swung the door open. She was startled at first. She just has stood there speechless for about 5 seconds (and exposing me to my classmates right across the street), and then she angrily slammed the door. I knew I had to get out of there and fast. I immediately got off the toilet, yanked up my underwear that I knew would have to be my toilet paper, and left to see many of the students waiting for my arrival. Luckily the bell rang just then and I ran for the entrance. My fist stop was the first girls' room where I luckily had a doored stall. I sat on the toilet, took off my jeans, and then tore off my underwear. There were two skidmarks that still had some soft, caked crap that I wasn't about to scrape off. I used much of the remaining toilet paper just cleaning myself, so I got off the seat, jumped into my jeans, and threw my so-soiled underwear into the bowl where I had all the toilet paper I had used. This doesn't sound good, but I didn't even try to flush because I knew the toilet would overflow.
I was the last to get into our classroom. Two of my friends saw what happened but luckily hadn't talked about it. At lunch they helped me understand that I had missed a sign that said toilet users had to get a key from the attendant. I peed twice later that day at school. It seemed so different having no underwear on. And the coarse fabric of my jeans made me feel uncomfortable the rest of the day.
Day after Christmas clean out
Well, I hope everybody had a great Christmas. I know I did. Fun day with family and really busy. So busy I never got around to taking a dump yesterday. Whenever I skip a day the next days output is usually pretty impressive.
I was unlucky enough to have to work today, so I got up at 5:30 this morning, took a shower, then came out and turned on the coffee. I drank a big glass of water, then took the dog for a walk. I always walk him for about a half hour, so by the time we get home the coffee is done.
So we're out walking and he's doing what dogs do, sniffing every tree and bush we walk by. About 15 minutes into our walk I start getting a heavy feeling in my lower gut, so I'm hoping to cut this walk short, but we're halfway around the block, so we just keep going. I let out a few long farts while we head for home, and that relieves the pressure somewhat, but by the time we're home, I have to go!
When we got home, I poured some coffee, fed and watered the dog, fed the cat, then I grabbed the morning paper and headed to the bathroom. Once I got seated, I read for a few minutes, peed and farted a couple more times, then I felt the turd start to crown. I leaned forward and let nature take its course.
The turd began to emerge, crackling the whole time. I think it took a good 10 seconds before the end finally exited, so I knew it was a long one. I sat reading for about another 5 minutes, enjoying some me time, before I started wiping. Took about 5 wipes before I was clean.
I couldn't wait to stand up and see what I created, and I wasn't disappointed. It was a smooth, cardboard brown, coiled up snake, about an inch to an inch and a half around. I had no idea how long it was, but it obscured most of the water, so I would estimate at least 2 feet, and probably even longer. I took a picture of it, then flushed and washed my hands.
I got dressed and left for work, feeling a few pounds lighter. I think I had just experienced the best dunp I had taken in quite some time. It's interesting how a great bowel movement helps your day get off to a great start.
Hope everybody has a great weekend and a happy new year!
To Catherine on Force Awakens.At least your dump wasn't full of large or squeaky farts, then zoe would have been laughing the entire time. I wonder if poop will become special to her, after having seen you go? Just how bad was the smell 1 - 10? 1 not horrible, 10 very strong. Also how many feet of turd do you think you made?
My childhood experiences storyI was 6, in 1st grade, bored at home so when my dad announced he had to go to Sears to buy some tools, I wanted to make sure he would take me. He made sure he had his credit card and told me he had to leave right away because he needed to pick up a couple of tools to finish rebuilding the steps to the front of our house. My mom would have gladly waited for me to go to the bathroom first, but dad was even more impatient that day. I had some new jeans on and had been in the backyard on some play equipment and had no shoes on. It was about a half hour drive to the store. About half way there I slid down in my seat next to dad and he saw may bare feet against the dash. He asked where my shoes were and I told him right where they were in my bedroom and he said something that I much later on learned to be sarcastic. He was the the sales guy discussing a couple of large power tools and later they were demonstrated for him. He then got to try one out and while he was my tiny bladder was full because I had drank almost all the Kool Aid that had been prepared earlier that afternoon. So as dad finished the deal, I started to dance around a little and finally started pulling on his blue t-shirt telling him I had to wee. The salesman showed him the door in the next aisle and dad walked me over to the ladies room. I talked him into letting me go in alone because I found it embarrassing to being forced to follow him into the guys bathroom. None of the stalls had doors and they were sitting on the toilet with all colors and configurations of underwear at ankle level and some had their water spout (my grandma's term) going. So dad pushed the door open for me and I entered. I remember seeing the first stall door was unlocked so I went into it. I was careful to latch the lock on the bright green door and I
checked it at least twice. Then I ran into my biggest problem. I couldn't get the golden button on top of my jeans through the hole so I could lower them. I moved back, sat on the toilet seat because the light was better there, and remember hurting my finger and thumb in finally getting it open. I was so thankful that the zipper worked on my jeans and I dropped them and reseated myself. My wee started almost immediately and I was surprised I wasn't hearing it splashing against the water. At that point I felt liquid gathering between my legs, but it took me a couple of seconds to figure out what was happening: I had forgotten to lower my underwear. I dropped them as fast as I could, but they were dripping wet as a wash rag. It took me a minute or so to decide what to do. Being barefoot, I didn't need to take any shoes or socks off. So I pulled my underwear down with my legs spread out toward the door. I took my jeans off and hung them on the door hook, then took my seat back on the toilet, and stepped out of my soaked underwear. I used much of the toilet paper drying myself before I put my jeans back on. I was lucky that they buttoned up easier than when I tried to open them. Then I hurried to the sink and washed my hands. I just left the underwear on the floor by the toilet because I didn't want to get caught with them.
Christmas Eve dinnerMy body is busy turning my Christmas Eve dinner into poop
It was ???? looking forward to seeing it In the toilet tomorrow
My second grade "accident"It was lunch time on a beautiful fall Tuesday about a month into my second grade year when a whisper started spreading like wildfire across the playground: Rhiannon, a girl in one of the other second grade classes, had wet her pants just before the bell rang. Even as the rumor was being confirmed ("Yes, she's in the nurse's office, waiting for her mom to bring her clothes!"), I started thinking about it. "Wow," I thought, "she wet her pants in second grade." I hadn't even wet my bed since I was four, and my last daytime accident had been before that. Three, probably. I started wondering what it was like for her, what she was thinking just before it happened, how it felt when it did happen, what she was feeling now. Lunch ended, and I kept wondering. All afternoon, during class, I wondered. Then I decided: . would find out, the very next day.
Wednesday morning I got up as usual, went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and hands, and combed my hair. But I didn't pee. Then I went downstairs, ate breakfast, and went to school as usual. The morning went on and recess time came. I went into the bathroom as usual, but I didn't pee; I only washed my hands, took a drink from the fountain, and went back to class. I felt like I had to pee, but that was the point here. I sat at my desk for the rest of the morning while my urge to pee grew stronger. Lunch came. I ate lunch, went outside and played, and, when I came back in, once again went into the bathroom and washed my hands without peeing. On the way back to the classroom I stopped at the water fountain and took another drink. I really had to pee now, but I went back to class instead.
The first class of the afternoon was music. As I stood singing I found it harder and harder to stand still. By the end of music class I was fidgeting and dancing. As we walked back to our main classroom, I thought that I had never had to pee so badly in my life.
I got back to my classroom and sat down in my desk, but I couldn't find a comfortable position. I squirmed around in my chair, trying to get comfortable, but my bladder was just too full to allow me to be comfortable.
Then, as I shifted one more time, I felt a little bit of pee leak out. It was only a few drops, but feeling my underwear get damp jolted me into reality. "I'm not some kindergarten baby," I thought. "I'm a second grader. I'm almost eight years old. I don't want to wet my pants!" But it was too late. I felt a surge go through my body and felt a warm wetness spreading across my crotch. I looked down and saw the pee bubbling up through my khakis. Soon, pee started pooling on the chair. It soaked the seat of my pants and started dripping off the back of my seat. At the same time, it began spreading across my lap, eventually reaching my knees, and began trickling down my leg and out of my pants cuff. I tried everything to stop it, but I just couldn't. It seemed like I peed for an hour.
When I finally ran out and the peeing stopped, I took a few seconds to assess the damage. My crotch, lap, and butt were all soaked, and my socks were wet from the pee than ran down my legs. There was what appeared to be a small lake under my chair. The whole class was staring at me in shocked silence.
"Danny," the teacher said, "what happened?"
"I had an accident," I sobbed, seriously understating the fact.
"Why don't you go to the nurse's office to clean up?"
Off to the nurse's office I went, utterly humiliated. When I got there, the nurse assessed the situation and determined that, yes, I had definitely wet my pants, and called my mother to bring me a change of clothes.
As I sat waiting for my mom to show up I reflected on the situation, answering the questions I had asked on Tuesday. Just before it happened, all I could think about was how badly I had to pee and what a bad situation it was. If only I had raised my hand a few seconds earlier and run for the bathroom! As it happened, the feeling of relief from my painfully full bladder was welcome, and the wet warmth wasn't at all objectionable. Granted, we are trained at a young age to not want to be wet in those areas, but other than that it wasn't too bad. But now to deal with the aftermath. I knew that the whispers on the playground today were about me. And the wetness had lost its warmth; it was now cold and itchy, and getting worse with every passing minute.
Finally my mom showed up with my fresh clothes. "Danny, what happened?"
"I forgot to go to the bathroom after lunch," I lied. She handed me the dry clothes and sent me into the nurse's private bathroom to change.
I changed and came out. "All better?" both my mom and the nurse asked.
"Not really. I itch really badly where it was wet."
"Well, Jean, you'd better take Danny home and have him take a bath. We don't want him developing diaper rash."
Home we went, and I took my bath. I changed into my play clothes and went about the rest of the day as if nothing had happened. The next morning, as I left for school, my mom said, "Remember to go to the bathroom today." And that was the last thing she ever said about the incident.
That morning at school, I got quizzical looks from a few of my classmates but nobody said anything until recess. Then Rhiannon came over and said, "I heard you wet your pants too." I said nothing, but nodded my head ashamedly. "That sucks, doesn't it?" she said.
"I hope it never happens to either of us again," was my reply. And, at least for me, I made certain that it didn't.
An AccidentFromChildhoodHi everyone! It's Hailey. I think I introduced myself on this site a while back and said that I would share an experience from childhood and how strict mom was in terms of bathroom.
I have this accident that I remember really well. It was from when I was in grade 2. I had started to need to pee during class, but it wasn't bad so I just ignored it. Then the bell rang for recess and because me and my friends had fun during recess I didn't want to miss it by having to go to the bathroom. So I held it in and joined them on the field. By then, I was starting to really have to go, but still I did not want to miss the fun. We were telling jokes when I laughed and I started dribbling into my panties. Quickly and with great effort I managed to stop the flow, but only for a little while. My friend then said something really funny and I could not help but laugh, by then I was laughing hard and knew the pee was going to come and that I could not stop it this time! Pee started pouring into my panties and ran down my legs. I was wearing jeans at the time, and the pee was soaking my jeans. After what felt like forever the pee stopped and the pants of my jeans are completely soaked. All my friends were staring at me and many people on the field also noticed what happened. My face turned red and I was so embarrassed! Thankfully my friends were nice and helped me cover up my accident.
I had to phone home to get mom to bring me a change of clothes afterward. My mom was shocked and furious about the accident. She came right to school with a change of clothes and took me home for the day. For the rest of the day, I was yelled at for having an accident and how in grade 2, I should have known when to go to the bathroom instead of peeing my pants. Even today this memory is still vivid, and I feel ashamed when I think about it. Moreover, I can almost hear mom's voice yelling at me that afternoon and how sad she was because I remember the words she used and they were harsh.
Well, hope you enjoyed my story as I did sharing it!
Diarrhea...againEarlier today I went to a diner and ate some fried chicken. My family went to Lowe's afterwards to look at blinds and my stomach started feeling funny. I felt a huge rush of diarrhea coming on. We went to a few other stores because the Lowe's didn't have the kind of blinds we wanted. We went to walmart and walked around, then left. By now I was getting cramps, but didn't want to say anything. We went to a liquor store and then started driving home.
By the time we got home ten minutes later, I was about to explode. I hobbled inside, let my dogs out into the backyard, and sprinted into the bathroom.
I ripped my shorts down and pure liquid shot out of my butthole, not stopping for nearly a minute. I let out a few loud, wet farts and a few small semi-solid turds. I still felt far from empty. I let out a huge, sputtering fart which was followed by another wave of liquid poop.
After the second wave, I passed a few more solid poops, and then my stomach cramped up again. I farted and a smaller wave of diarrhea rocketed out of my butt. I felt done finally, so I wiped twice (it was totally liquid so not much poop had gotten caked on), pulled up my pants, and washed my hands.
Monday morning "beer shits"On Monday morning, I was at work when I got my usual urge--a bit earlier than usual--and it was quite urgent indeed. I made my way to the mens room and took my usual middle stall where I can spot through the crack who is coming into the mens room. The medical students are on break, so I figured it would be pretty quiet. Right after I sat and dropped a very large load, the door opened and a guy entered the mens room. He was about thirty, wearing a baseball cap, jeans and a sweatshirt. I figured he was one of the maintenance workers, since the students are gone and his dress code meant that he wasn't one of the office workers. He saw that the middle stall was occupied, and then turned around and left. I figured that perhaps he didn't want to poop next to me and he would find another facility, or perhaps come back. I pulled out my phone and started to browse my email messages, and about five minutes later, he re-entered the bathroom. At this point, I guess he figured he couldn't wait any longer, so he took the handicap stall to my left. Most guys will take this stall if the middle stall is occupied, since there is a small gap between the two toilets, allowing for a bit more privacy. He dropped his jeans and I could hear all the keys on his key ring hit the floor. I knew from the keys that he was most probably a maintenance guy. After a few seconds, he let out a soft grunt as he started to push. He then released some soft stool, followed by three loud farts that helped propel the remaining poop inside of him rapidly into the bowl. He then sighed and immediately started to wipe. After two quick wipes, he left the stall, washed up and left. I suspect that he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. I also would surmise that he wasn't quite as clean as he could be since he only wiped twice. By now, the odor had reached me and it was quite rank. I quickly finished up, anxious to get out of there to escape the unpleasant smell. As I passed his stall on my way to the sink, I took a peak and noticed that he had splattered the back of the bowl with little bits of shit. As they say, "shit happens!" As I exited the mens room, I saw him by the elevators talking to a fellow maintenance worker. My guess is that after dropping that loud, smelly load, he was feeling quite relieved.
This got me thinking about Monday morning bowel movements, especially during the football season. I theorize that this guy had spent Sunday with his bros watching football, drinking beer and eating wings and pizza, which resulted in this very messy Monday morning bowel movement. I also came to realize that this wasn't the first loud and gassy Monday morning bowel movement that I had witnessed this past fall. Perhaps--like post-Thanksgiving bowel movements--Monday morning post-football watching bowel movements have their own characteristics, commonly known as "beer shits."
J. A. G
Merry Christmas to each and every one of you on this forum - may you have a wonderful day as you celebrate with friends and family, and I'm sure that with all the delicious food that will undoubtedly be consumed, you'll have lots of great stories over the next few days (tee hee hee!). Happy holidays!
QuestionWhat's the craziest thing that has happened to you while using the bathroom?
For me, I once was only pooping out water clear mucus, sorry if TMI, but it was weird. I eventually got back to normal. It might have only lasted 1 day.
to catherineHello Catherine, I just wanted to say I'm glad you enjoyed reading my story and thank you for the compliment. I thought it would make for a good story to share because it really surprised me a girl like that would be so open about killing it in that restroom. Although I think she talked like that on the phone because she wasn't expecting anyone else to be down there. Sorry for replying so late but I don't get on here as often as I like sometimes. I read the story you told me you posted in the older pages and I really liked it as well as your most recent story.
O Car Mom, we miss you!
Responses - Follow Up, Hillary Clinton and Shout OutsGood Morning!
Wow! Some great stories today!
First, I apologize about all the type-o's on my post! I always re-read my posts when they appear. For the record, it was not Alan's mother who scolded Chloe, but Chloe's mother - Alan's ex. She really has had a hard time. Alan says that she is very discreet when she uses the bathroom and always seems to go in the evening. To be honest - I've never noticed.
Second, Alan did tell me on Sunday that when he tucked Zoe in bed, she mentioned how big "Catherine's poo-poo" was. Of course, he said that he told her that everyone poops and that we did not need to talk about it. Alan said that Zoe has a little bit of a curiosity about poop but that Chloe never mentioned it.
Third, I did not see the Democratic debate but I thought it was very rude what Donald Trump said about Hillary Clinton returning from the bathroom. How crude! I am not a fan, but I thought she was very dignified and it could happen to anyone!
Finally, some responses!!!
British Dumper: Great to hear from you! Yes, I think we are kindred spirits! Isn't it great to have a safe space where you can talk about how good it feels to defecate??? (I love that word, by the way!) I was wondering, are you a big woman like me...I'm 6'1 and 185 lbs.!! I guess I just seem to put away a lot of food! Yes, I can't wait to hear more from you. That sounded like a monster dump!
To "The Poop that Changed My Life": That was the best story by far written by a guy on this forum that I have ever read! And, I want you to know - I get it. Totally. Please read my story on 2466. I wish that everyone could have the experience that you had. I've had it and it is almost like a spiritual high or something. It feels like what people describe when they smoke marijuana or something (I've never done that). I'm sorry that Jen did not share your understanding. Are you still together? It sounded as if it didn't bother you. Thanks!
Just Another Girl: Miss you!
comments & stuffTo: Catherine great story it sounds like you had a really great poop and it sounds like those women were beyond desperate and just barely made it to the bathroom in time and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.
To: Anna great story about your big poop at the theater I bet you felt pretty good afterwards and I look forward to your next post thanks.
Well thats all for now and this may be my last post until after christmas since I dont have internet at home and the library will be closed from the 24th until the 29th so unless there is another update tomorrow so happy holiday and I lok forward to all the great story to come.
Sincerely Brandon T
PS. I love this site
For Tristanah; that accident of yours...
Don't feel bad; it happens to me too sometimes. I just take my mind of my sphincter **JUST FOR A SECOND** LOL and it's too late :)
What I thought was just a cramp or a fart ends up touching cloth LOL!
Actually; I happen to think that such strong urges are a sign of good digestive system health; and also somewhat symbolic of our youth.
I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be IRL friends with someone like you from the TS forum. No reason not to tell you when I felt an urge....or how good it felt to feel full....
To CodyI'm the oldest (18) out of my 3 brothers.
My middle brother is kinda secretive about going poop. I assume he's regular, if not, then he might say something about it to me or my parents.
My youngest brother might have issues. He doesn't drink plain water, he only drinks water if it's mixed with a powdered flavor mix. He only drinks juice, sprite/sierra mist, or the flavored water with the powder mix, and sometimes milk. Sometimes, he leaves the toilet unflushed, and everytime I've seen it, it was only balls of poop instead of logs. Hopefully, his drinking and eating habits will change for the better in the future.
We were raised normally with our bathroom habits. Bathroom related stuff is sometimes joked about within the family and with grandparents.
For me, I've grown comfortable overtime with bathroom habits around guys AND girls. It's important to have that comfort level since I'm going to college and that I'm going to live in a dorm hall with roommates and communal bathrooms. I'll have more stories and experiences from college that will make good reads on here in the Fall of next year.
Forgot to pull my pants down...Hi everyone, Abigail here. So last night, I got up and went to the bathroom. However, I was so tired that I forgot to pull my pajamas down. So when I thought I was going in the toilet, I was actually pooping in my pajamas. It took me until I was done to realize it. Then I emptied the poop into the toilet. I wiped and put my pajamas in the wash, then went back to bed. Anyone else ever have that happen to you?
End Stall Em
What color should public toilet seats be?For winter break from my college classes, I'm back at the mall working the customer service kiosk, which as you can imagine, is one of the busiest operations in the large regional mall. Livvy, a graduate student who is working on her doctorate and me each have put in about 60 hours in each of the past three weeks since exams. We have to coordinate all our breaks between one another since the management really frowns on help not being available to our mall's thousands of guests.
On Monday, my morning crap was knocking at 9 a.m. and with our special hours, we had been on duty for two hours already. However, we had eight assisted living and retirement homes bringing their residents in and that means a lot of gift cards and each of our 10 wheelchairs being used. So I had to hold it in. Finally, after the last van arrived--and this one was from a vets home and I just love those guys because they are so appreciative and polite and some even try to flirt with me--I told Livvy I needed to take my morning 10 (what management calls our break). So I walked as fast as my heels would carry me to the nearest bathroom complex. I walked right down the line of about 20 stalls which were in use and sure enough the end one had its door open. My black thong was pulled down as fast as I could and I seated myself onto a pretty comfortable toilet. Luckily, my deposit started immediately and it all dropped in one semi-soft piece like size of a banana. Then I weed for about a minute which was something I knew I had to do or otherwise, I would be inconveniencing Livvy again soon. At that point, I heard two girls, by their voices they seemed to be of middle school-age, open the stall door next to mine and one told the other, "Oh, I can't shit from a black seat, you take it because I'm going to hold it for a while." I was thinking back to 10 years ago when I was their age and thought about my feelings at that time. I was more concerned about good lighting in the stalls and cleanliness of the seat for my butt, not something as trivial as color.
Is seat color really that relevant? Whether its black or white, I don't think I really give a damn. Or am I, as my boyfriend Spencer teases me, just getting old?
Sister had an accident!Hi everyone, Emma here. So today, I was playing outside with my sister, Abigail. It was 25 degrees, and we were building a snowman. Then... "Be right back, gotta pee!" Abigail ran behind a bush for a moment. I could hear her struggling to unbutton her jeans. So I went around the bush to see if I could help. And no sooner did I ask her, "Need some help?", that I saw the front of her jeans turn dark, the darkness spreading downward into her boots. Abigail just stood there with her mouth wide open looking down. When she eventually looked up at me, her face turned bright red. "Uh... It should dry soon, we shouldn't worry about it," she said. "No way! Abi, it's 25 degrees outside! The pee could freeze your pants to your legs! Plus it's just gross! We are going inside and you will clean up." We're twin sisters, but it was interesting feeling like I was the older one in charge for a few seconds. "I see your point." So we went inside, and she cleaned up. Luckily our dad was shoveling snow in the front yard and our mom was still sleeping. So, we got away with it.
In January 1985, me and my family were living in North Sydney, Australia. One day back then, we went to the local pool/aquatic centre and it seemed to be this very new, modern sort of place. When I was in the men's changeroom, a boy of about twelve or thirteen came walking out of a toilet stall he had used and nonchalantly made no effort to flush the two or three moderately sized pieces he had left in the toilet. It seemed kind of odd for him to have done something like that in that sort of nice, relatively new facility.
To Tristan: How old are you? Sounds like you were holding on for a long time. It is a good thing you wear briefs and not boxerbriefs or boxers, else you would have had a big problem on your hands.
To Lucus: another great story from your past, keep them coming!
To J: Dang it sounds like you were cutting it pretty close and you have had a few accidents before. If you aren't careful you might have another