Good to hear from you again Rachel.
There was no excuse for your friends dad not to at least pull off to the side of the road and let you go to the bathroom. When I was real little, that's what my dad did, all the time. No one could be in that much of a hurry as to be that inconsiderate. I bet if you had gone and told your own dad about that, he would have punched that guy out. Did you ever ask your friend if he had ever done that to her? Of course, maybe he just got a kick out of seeing you desperate and pooping in your pants. Take care!
Here's something that happened to me a couple of weeks back. I went to a theme park with my friend and her Mum and Dad. Any way, the night before I needed to poop but I didn't go as I was watching something good on TV. The next day I got in the car and we set off on the interstate. We got into loads of traffic and were there for an hour when I really needed to go. I was really desperate. I told the her dad that I needed to stop but he said that the services were not for another hour and that the traffic would take us ages. I wanted to cry. I held it in for another ten minuites but I couldn't hold it in any longer. It started to come out and I could do nothing about it. I kept doing little farts and I was straining real bad. I did the whole lot in my panties. I could feel it wet against my legs. I was so embaressed. Nobody found out but I had to go all the day with it in my underwear. It was horrible.
Last week I discovered one of life's great pleasures. It involves urination.
I was in the shower and the water was not running yet (I had just taken off my clothes and gotten into the shower stall). I realized that I had the urge to pee. I couldn't wait until I got to the toilet- it was several feet away. I just stood in the dry shower and peed. For a little fun, I closed my legs and kept going. The urine went down my legs.
Then I turned on the water and washed it off.
But while I was in the shower, I had to go again.
I sat down in the shower stall and pointed my vagina up in the air, and I peed. It landed on me.
That was fun to do.
Hello People ! Been away a bit recently, so have just spent some time catching up on the site. Thanks to those who have recently commented on some of my stories.
TRAVELER: I love that word, "vicariously" ! Being able to imagine a scene through the words of another is one of the best things about this site. I'm pleased you were able to enjoy my story about cousin Sarah.
TONY (SCOTLAND): Thanks for your critique on my "novel" ! I know my "scene building" goes a bit over the top (!), but I can't help myself sometimes. What I'm going to try and do in future is split my stories up into smaller posts. I've still plenty to tell, but they will run out pretty quickly if I keep up the length of my last couple of posts. So the stories I have stored in my mind about my last cousin, Jayne, will now be told in several shorter parts (perhaps!). PS, your return story about Diane was excellent ( not too heavy on the lead in !), and just the sort of thing I like to read. Many! thanks for that!
BILLY: My primary school days were in the 70s (I'm 35 now). You say your school days were seriously dull by comparison. Even so, I never saw a girl pee at school like you did ! That would have made such an impression on me, I'd have made a real good story out of that !
What was seriously dull was my secondary school days. I don't have any toilet stories from 11 to 16. The only event I remember involved the formation of a school "tickle gang". This was a group of around 8 lads, who would target some poor individual, wrestle them to the ground, and then tickle them to death ! They always picked on lads, and the most that happened was usually a number of uncontrollable farts from the victim. However, I vividly remember the day they picked on their first girl, poor Angela. They were very careful not to touch her in any private places, concentrating on her legs, her ?????, and under her arms. Unfortunately, they took no notice of her screams for! mercy until this enormous gush of wee sprayed out from under her short skirt. I remember that all the witnesses present were very shocked by what happened, none more so than the boys who were the perpetrators. They were very sorry for what they had done, and even more sorry by the time the headmaster had finished with them ! Needless to say, the tickle gang was banned, and became another distant memory of my fondly remembered school days !
Next post about my cousin Jayne. Speak to you all again soon. Love Andrew P.
To concerned mum
I wouldn't be worried at all - some of my friends at the same age needed to go twice a day. 17 year old boys eat heaps and it all has to go somewhere so that seems normal to me. If he is not having a dump he is probably masturbating and that is normal too.
To Concerned Mom:
It's possible your son may be doing something in the bathroom other than a #2...something familiar to many a teenaged boy.
I was watching the PBS history of NYC last night, which included a segment on women in garment factory sweatshops in the early 1900s. Among other atrocities, the women and young girls who worked there were not allowed many breaks to use the restrooms during their very long shifts. Under these conditions, I can imagine these poor women having numerous accidents in their clothes. Also, note that the "sanitary napkins" of those days were nothing less than cloth diapers (from which the expression "on the rag" came). I'd bet these ladies frequently used their napkins for a toilet as well as their periods.
This is not to belittle the horrible conditions under which they worked, or the memory of the victims of the 1911 fire...but it's something to think about.
Yesterday, I went for a morning swim but somehow felt a big urge to dump. Went to the pool male toilet, but there was only one cubicle and it was occupied. I heard flushing and decided to wait. However, another guy who was there first said he needed it urgently. I let him go. I went back to the pool and swam a few laps more, but felt very breathless due to the gas in my stomach. I went back to the male toilet and waited. Finally, he flushed and came out. I asked,"Done?" and he replied, "Yeah, thanks a lot!" "No problem", I said. I went in, pulled my swimming trunks down and sat. Firat, I farted. Ohh! That felt good. I started to grunt. The head of the turd started moving but it was a BIG one. Ouch! I grunted harder and it started out. I stopped pushing and let the turd proceed by itself. Ow! The turd was very large and very knobbly, scratching my anus. Well, it did fall and I farted even more. I wiped, but not too clean as I will be swimming again and the water will wash my an! us clean anyway. The best dump I ever had, and also the nicest deed I ever done by letting the poor man in first.
Sometimes, I have this feeling that the large turds you see passed by the models at scat sites are fake. They just stuff it in and take a picture. I don't know, you guys think so?
Hey, guys! I can't resist this contribution to the "foot-flusher" tales! In my own university library men's room, the extreme left-hand stall looks out PERFECTLY on the two side-by-side half-wall urinals through the natural crack (about 1/2 inch wide) between the hinge-hung door and the wall. As a result, you get to observe the many different ways guys piss at the urinals (how they hold their fixins', how they target their streams, how they deal with their foreskins, how far back they stand, etc. etc.) while you're just sitting there taking a leisurely dump. The nice part is that they don't even realize they're being "studied"...so you get to see how other guys piss (and handle their dicks) when they believe they're totally alone! Talk about fun! I could write a whole book about those observations...but my story here is that I once saw a guy (black dude as it happens) stand back about three feet from the urinal after he had pissed...and nail the flush handle with one very high! and well-placed karate kick! I almost lost it from stuffing my laughter! (Good thing I was already sitting on the pot!) I'll bet nobody's ever seen THAT "feet feat" attempted before. Any challengers?
By the way, as to the regular stalls -- of which there are three -- about 50% of the guys flush with one foot. It's also interesting that more and more young guys these days head straight to the stalls just to piss...especially if one of the two urinals is already occupied. I doubt if THAT many guys are seriously pee-shy. I think we're seeing a sad and disappointing resurgence of prudishness and body-shame that we thought (hoped) had been abandoned following the "liberated" 1960s. Many of these same younger guys also take "gang showers" with their bathing suits on. It's amazing that such prudishness, and I suspect a basic underlying homophobia, are so difficult to eradicate from young male psyches at this late date in our cultural evolution. Young guys 30 and 40 years ag! o were a whole lot more relaxed about showering naked together...and pissing together...and even dumping together...than this present generation of (pardon my language, but I'm afraid 'tis true) candy-assed wimps. Anybody got any ideas what we can do to extricate them from their absurd neurosis?
Wow! Nicola! I am finding it hard to get away from the image you describe where you have to lift your bum off the seat to let the rest of your magnificent turd out because it is pressing against the bottom of the pan! Do you really do them that big? You certainly are an amazing person - and quite knowlegable in medical matters too so it seems. You have told us a lot more about laxatives and such than I would have expected from a doctor. Thanks also for the account of your sharing a major toilet session with your mum. I love the picture it gives of those two big bums taking turns to deposit vast quantities down the pan.
I happened to be at a railway station today, and I could see two very large thick turds laid on the track. Despite the fact that this is quite disgusting in this day and age, I couldnt help imagine the big shapely bottom that must have produced them. Have you been near to Bristol recently Nicola?
To swatty potty: I once had the honor to spend about 24 hours in the pokey. It was just the holding tank, not a full blown "big-house" or "joint". It was a combo toilet and drinking fountain, all stainless steel and no lid or seat. You just sat right on the rim. The holding tank got pretty crowded throughout the evening and night. There was one guy thrown in there, and I mean he had a problem. He spent the whole night in the toilet section. (About 1/4th of the holding tank was the toilet section. It had two toilets in it. It was separated by a cinder block wall about 4 feet high to give the guys on the shitters some measure of privacy). Anyway he spent the whole night in that section all by himself. In the morning someone had to take a shit, (a somewhat intimidating black man) and this guy was still standing there with his dick almost hanging out in anticipation of seeing this guy take a shit. Well all it took was a dirty look and a request to get lost to get him t! o move. Fortunately throughout the night he slept soundly when I and others had to use it. Nobody flushed them at night as some measure of courtesy to the others who were trying to sleep.
Long time no see, you guys!
Anyway, it's been a while since me and my friend have both pooped together, but last week he did. Of course, as usual...I sat on the tub next to him and talked to him as he dropped poops. I told him that they sounded cute as they plopped into the water.:-) But anyway, he flushed a few times during the session but after he finished up (wiping, etc) he didn't flush! Then, he decided that he wanted to take a shower and by that time, I was standing at the sink. He got into the shower and started washing, when I said...."I can't believe you didn't flush that!" He said that he didn't want to because (as many of you know) flushing during a shower could not be a very pleasurable thing. But I kept playfully harassing him about how I never had that happen in the past and blah blah blah...And to make a long story short, I guess he got fed up with me going on and on, so he opened the shower curtain a bit, stuck his leg out and flushed! the toilet!!!!!! It was just really funny to me and I couldn't believe that he did that.
And of course, he looked at me and said," Happy, dear?" :-)
Have any of you ever done something wacky like that before?
Hey I'm a 16 y/o guy. Have any of you teenage guys out
there done this? I do this all the time. I go in to a
mall bathroom to poop. Then I sit down and push out a
big log and don't wipe. When the bathroom is empty I
pull up my pants and walk over to a urinal and pretend
to piss until somebody comes in. Then when a guy shows
up I watch and see what his reaction is to the big poop
sitting in the toilet usually he'll just flush it and
look disgusted but other times he just walks back out!
I think it is a kewl prank :B
My poop is normally brown and 2 inches thick but the
size of the logs bugs me. I am 6'1" and 200 pounds and
I poop every few days. I am in good health but my logs
are usually 18" long. I don't flush at the mall because
I might overflow the toilet. Anybody else have really
big shit? They are almost 2 feet long!!
To Nicola and Pete (US): Yes, Epsom Salts can be violent. Let me tell you a true story. Some years ago we were vacationing in the (we are French). Whenever we are on vacation my wife gets constipated. Just before driving into the L.A. metropolitan area we stopped at a Drugstore in a Plaza. I bought some beer, etc. and my wife consulted the farmacist. She came back with a little bottle called "Fleet Ennema" of which the farmacist, according to her, said she could swallow it down half or even completely with some Coke or whatever (because of the bad taste). I have never been able whether this guy really said so or whether she misunderstood (her English is not that good). She emptied the whole bottle along with a can of Coke right there on the parking lot and off we went.
It went about like this (of course I did not time it):
15': I can feel it start moving already.
40': Actaully I think I could poop now already, but I'll wait until we ge! t to the hotel.
60'-90': Oow, this is getting bad. I really have to go badly (and squirming around in the seat of the car).
By then we were in the rush hour on the Interstate getting into L.A. (5 or 6 lanes with even the emergency lane being used).
95': If you can find somewhere an exit into a plaza or so, please take it. I am getting desperate.
Almost immediately after: Get off now immediately, there is poop shooting into my panties!
I pulled over and took the next possible exit with a wife next to me that was litterally in panic. She was complaining about poop getting into her panties withour her being able to stop it.
About 5 minutes later I stopped in front of a Burger King: My wife gets out. I can see a small brown spot on her shorts near the bottom of her sheeks. While trying to move (first fast, then very careful, etc.) without more damage I hear a loud explosion. Her white shorts turned light brown almost completely. She! stops in panic and seconds later the mess starts running down her legs (even into her shoes).
A (crying) wife: What do I have to do? There is more to come. Well honey, just finish it in your panties. I don't think it still makes any difference. She got one more wave of diarrhea later on and that was about it (except for some minor stools afterwards).
The product sure did clear her system. Later on, we found out what this product actually was. It actually says on the box it may work within 30 minutes.
Missed this page. Been so busy, I've not had time to visit for a week or more. I had a fascinating BM this morning. Due to my diet, rich in fruit and fiber, I always pass very soft turds, which are quite small. This morning I counted them as they hit the water. The first installment consisted of 41 small turds, with a big fart after number 23. I flushed that lot, pissed and then produced another 21. I flushed again, sat for a while longer and after a few grunts and struggles produced another 6 small ones. I bet that that lot would make a big one if they were all in one big stiff turd instead of 67 soft turdlets!
Me and a friend had gone out to have dinner at a mexican resturant and then we went on to a play. After dinner we went to see a production of Hello Dolly. We got to the auditorum my stomach started to cramp. All decked out in my jeans and cowboy boots, I went in persuit of the restroom. I was shocked to find that not only was the room very crowded, but that the stalls had no doors. So I walked into the second stall, wiped the seat, pulled down my jeans. Just as soon as I sat down the poop start to roll out of my butt, and of course it was one of those messy kind that smelled up the place, and took a whole roll of paper to clean up. Then I had to go back and wonder if these guys will remember my face. Oh Well!! when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Several days ago, someone here I believe asked the question as to whether a person preferred to have either the "traveler's diarhea" (sp?) or "traveler's constipation"...To answer the question from my own personal experience, I would have to say "traveler's constipation", as the "runs" or "Montezuma's revenge" as it is sometimes called is no fun at all while out on vacation. The last time I had such a case of constipation while on vacation, it lasted me a whole week, and when I finally was able to pass the mass that had backed up, it came out very slow. I didn't time it, but it felt like it must have been about 5 minutes of a continuous log that came out of me. When it finally ended, I wiped and got up and looked at the job I had done. It was about 20 inches long and curled around back on itself once, yet it looked very solid...
As for the question about flushing public toilets with my feet or hands, I prefer to use my left foot to do so, as most of the flush mech! anisms have the lever on the left side when facing it...
Public Toilet Hater
To Claude: All right! I also flush public toilets with my foot. That's the only way. Why? Because guys get urine or poop on their hands, and I don't want to touch that flush handle. Additionally, once one person uses the foot flush maneuver, that means that all the germs from the sole of his shoe are now on the flush handle. Of course, the guy will have been standing in a puddle of urine on a nasty filthy vile floor. I refuse to touch a flush handle. The kick flush is the only way to flush a public toilet. I have been laughed at for the kick flush, but I don't care -- my hands do not coated in another man's urine. The last guy who laughed at me for executing a kick flush got to eat my shoe. He wasn't laughing after that. I am tall, and also received some martial arts training, therefore the kick flush is easy to pull off.
But, there is a danger! Once I saw a guy attempting to kick flush, and he slipped. His foot slipped off the flush handle, and INTO T! HE URINAL!! He threw his shoe in the garbage. I don't blame him. If public toilets were not so nasty, people would not act that way.
ALL public toilets should be self-flushing. This would eliminate the need for the kick flush.
OK, I have seen posts that raise the issue of homophobia, and I want to make a defense for those folks who like some privacy in their bathroom affairs. Please allow me to first state that I am inclined to leave people alone, and am not making a comment about homosexuals. The following is not meant as gay-bashing.
I'm a fairly large and athletic guy. When I was in college, I lived in a dormitory that had community toilets and showers. Thirty-two men shared a communal bathroom. On weekends, most students went home, and there were not many men staying in the dormitory.
On one weekend, I was sitting on a commode, taking a dump. A homosexual saw me there, dropped his pants, and burst through the door of the stall. He made suggestions that offended me very deeply. He apparently didn't realize how large I was, because when I stood up, I towered over him. I was angry with his violation of my privacy, and I punched him and kicked him. As I have mentioned! , I have some training in self-defense, and I left him unconcious on the floor.
The next day, the university charged me with assault.
Before I could appear before the university's disciplinary body, the same homosexual guy made an advance toward another person. This second victim was a star player on one of the university's athletic teams. The athlete also punched the homosexual, and injured him quite severely. He broke the man's ribs, causing the guy's lung to collapse. He also gave him a concussion. The homosexual man was hospitalized for several weeks, and after the university's investigation, was expelled from the university.
When the university investigated the incident concerning the athlete, they disovered that the same person was the instigator in my case. All charges against both the athlete and me were dismissed. There is no public record of the incident, since an athlete was involved.
I do not advise violence, a! nd let me point out that I don't view this person's behavior as typical of homosexuals. I am simply relating the story as it happened.
Has anyone else had such an experience? What did you do? Let me say that I clearly told this person "NO" and resorted to violence only when he would not respect my saying NO. The only way to get him out of my face was to punch his head so hard that I knocked him down. Once he was down, I made sure that he did not get up. Before I knew it, he was knocked out.
My view is that I will not make any comment about anyone for being a homophobe. I certainly won't ridicule anyone in a public bathroom, or do anything that might be irritating to them. I don't know what the experiences of other people have been. The person who seems prudish might have a very good reason for his behavior. A person who seems a bit too open might just have a different background, and I'm not inclined to get defensive unless provoked. Everyone de! serves respect and privacy, and anyone who bothers someone else in a public bathroom is asking for trouble. Especially if they bother large men with training in martial arts!
Peace to all. Don't forget to use your foot to flush.
I can imagine how cold the stainless steel toilet seats are in jails when it is the winter time. From what I read, it really sounds like the jailers have to rough it.
Thursday, November 18, 1999
Are you sure thats what he's doing in there? At that age its time for a girlfriend if you get my jist.
To concerned Mom,
When I was young as a teenager I spent an hour in the toilet reading and pooping. Sometimes it was because of a good bm others times to read my girly magazines. Whenever, I have a bm I'm particularly sensitive sexually. I have always had two bms a day. I think its a sign of good health.
To "concerned mom". Assuming your post was a serious question, has it not occurred to you that your son might be doing "other activities" in the bathroom. Teenage boys have been known to from time to time!
To Concerned Mom:
Your son is masturbating, it is normal for a teenage boy. Do him a favour and ignore it, you'll both be better off.
to concerned mom: I'm 17 too, and it usually takes me about A minute or two for bowel movements. I'd suggest that you ask him if everything is ok. He may be suffering for constipation.
To the "concerned mom"- I've got two words for ya: Masturbation. Okay, one word. But I bet that's what your teenager is busy doing in the bathroom for so long. Boooiiooiing!!!
To concerned Mom:
Your son is probably masturbating. Boys do that sort of thing. :)
Concerned mom, Duh, I think he is emptying his bowels as well as two things hanging between his legs.
I was trying to find something on teenage boys bathroom habits because I am concerned about my son. He is 17 yrs. old and I noticed that he goes #2 two times everyday...usually once in the morning after breakfast and once before he goes to bed. The thing that concerns me is how long it takes him. He is usually in there for about 20 minutes! This seems like an awfully long time to me. I was wondering if this is normal for teenage boys? If there is any other moms with teenage sons or any teenage boys themselves, could you please tell me if your habits are anything like how i described my sons to be?
To swatty potty,
There are no seats (as you normally think of them)on toilets in U.S. jails (least not the few I have been in BRIEFLY). The toilets are one piece stainless steel things. You literally sit right on the edge of the pan. They sit right out in plain view in the cell, usually next to a small sink, also stainless.
One of the ways evil prison guards intimidate prisoners is by standing outside the cell while convicts are using the toilet. Ir reminds one of how the great apes in zoos must feel being on display all the time. In fact, many convicts will throw their turds at the guards through the bars as an act of disdain, also much like chimps, orangs and other apes. All in all not too civilized.
Sarah. hey you're not alone.. when i drink choco milk the same happens to me and I'm not LI. I thought maybe is it possible for some to suddenly become LI rather than be born that way? hmmm.
As some of you already know, I am usually the long-logged type, but lately I've done some extremely (for me) long jobbies. One checked in at about 18". (No, I ddin't take a ruler into the bathroom! I just estimated by spreading my thumb and little finger, a span for me of about 7 inches.) The 18-incher isn't a prize winner here, I know, but I enjoyed it. There was something strange about passing it and the other long ones of late, though. As it came out, I was sure that the log wasn't sizeable at all, just a shortie. Then, when I looked afterwards... Surprise! Has anyone else had this experience?
I'm off on a trip to the East Coast of the US to visit my family for a week. I'll try to check in with all you guys over the weekend. Hopefuly I'll have some good airport toilet stories for you all!
At 16, I lived with my uncle and his two teenage sons. One bathroom in the house. These are some of the images from that time. Hope this version satisfies all the requirements of this forum, so I can share these special memories and we can enjoy them together. This is about my 19-year-old cousin Vinnie. I had a kinda hero-worship thing for him which, of course, I concealed totally.
It was a hot, humid morning. My uncle had already gone to work. My cousin Tony was still in bed. Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and was going through the towels, sniffing for one that didn't smell too bad. In our all-male household, things got pretty raunchy sometimes. Through the open window, I heard tires squeal and bump the curb at the head of the driveway. Then, a car screeching to a halt. A car door slams. Trailboots running on pavement, pounding across the wooden porch. The screen door squeaks open. Keys jangling, crashing to the floor, then jangling! again. The front door swings open and bangs against the hallway wall. Trailboots charging across the hallway. CRASH. Glass breaking. Something heavy falls to the floor with a thud. Trailboots stomping up the stairs, two at a time. A pleading "Ahhh, f****k!" The bathroom door got a sharp kick and flew open. BAM. Vinnie burst in, both hands occupied with unbuckling his heavy belt, a look of painfull desperation on his contorted face. Trembling fingers fumbled to unzip. He groaned. We made eye-contact for a second, but he immediately looked away and bowed his head. He was in another world. Backing toward the bowl, he bent forward as he shoved down his jeans and jockey shorts - worn, torn, and stained - down below his knees. Vinnie slammed down the toilet seat as he squatted onto the bowl, his sweaty butt landing hard on the seat.
Enthroned three feet away from me, he grunted hard - twice -
his twisted face reddening from the strain. Thundering farts ! ripped out of his butthole, echoing in the bowl, filling the room with his stink. Right then he let out a loud groan of relief, and his fierce jet of piss splattered into the bowl, the stinging smell of morning panther piss assaulting my nostrils. Next second, a sparkling dark yellow projectile shot up from between his legs, arcing out and down, spraying my feet and leg. He gasped and, frantically, his big trembling fist shoved his hose back down past the seat. He squeezed his eyes shut, drew in a sharp breath, and grunted even harder. He was sweating heavy, a greasy sheen covering his stubbled, handsome face.
He leaned forward, both hands thrust between his spread thighs, clamping a death-grip onto the front of the toilet seat, his body, head to toe, strained to the extreme, in the classic "burst a blood vessel" state. He let loose with a long, loud uhnnnn-UHHNNNnn-aaAHHHnnnnnn-AHHHH. His endless stream of piss shot out even stronger, and I heard a loud PLOPP, t! he first big torpedo turd exploding out of his aching butt. Then another PLOPP, and a PLOPP-PLOPP, as he grunted and farted shamelessly. Intense, long spurts of piss splattering into the bowl. He inhaled sharply, and an explosion of juicy crap blasted into the steaming brew of his horsepiss.
After a lot more of this unloading, he seemed exhausted and finally collapsed, slumping back on the bowl. Regaining consciousness, he looked up at me sheepishly, suddenly and very obviously embarassed. As he half stood up, grabbing a wad of toilet paper, he said, quietly "Man, I almost shit my f**kin' pants". As he tried to wipe his shitty buttcrack, he tried to explain about what had driven him to a state of such gut-wrenching desperation. Vinnie and his three buddies were driving back from a rock-climbing weekend. They had gotten a flat and, by the time they changed the tire, they were running late, and two of the guys got frantic about not being at their jobs on time ! and getting canned. The last two-hundred miles, they burned rubber and avoided stopping at all costs. So then, Vinnie gets this powerful urge to take a dump. Actually, he had been plugged up since Friday. And then "all that f**kin' black coffee". As his cramps got worse, he hoped that his buddies guts would overwhelm them and they'd beg for a pit stop, but they didn't. Soon, he was in agony, having big problems concentrating on driving, particularing keeping anywhere close to the speed limits. He counted the miles, praying he wouldn't shit himself in front of his friends. The images of his ordeal raced through my mind, as we stood beside each other, engulfed by his manly fumes.
Can any of you guys relate to this ? More,later. Thanks for listening.