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To answer Bill some of us do prefer stockings and suspenders to tights for more than one reason. A girl feels kind of more desirable with the secret that they are wearing exiting undies. Panties,(we often call them pants in UK), are more easily pulled down in an emergency for toileting and finally, in warm weather the gusset of ones knickers suffers less than when they are encased with tights which cause restriction. As the material does not breathe so easily and in very hot weather a girl may have to change herself more often because of the sticky discomfort and smell. In UK, and I would have thought sensible anywhere despite what has been shown in the movies and stories from men who do don’t know what they are talking about, it is usual to wear ones panties over the top of the suspenders and other kit to make that fast pull-down more convenient. I think there is nothing more frustrating than experiencing welcome relief from a big purge but standing in front of the toilet kno! wing you are doing it in your underpants and mucking yourself, believe me, I know. So the form is suspender belt or open girdle and suspenders, usually one at the front and another at the back of each leg, attached and clipped to top of stocking tops, then knickers pulled up over the top so that the suspenders go through the leg of ones knicks and will stretch and contract as the girl walks. You must not confuse my term open girdle with a panty girdle which is a different type and more modern garment and is usually worn over the tights, I do wear one of these sometimes. Although I am not overweight, have an excellent figure and don’t need the extra control afforded by a girdle or panty girdle, I find all these undies more interesting and a girl can feel her figure being hugged when wearing these items. However, a panty girdle is very restricting and although these do have a gusset of their own, I find it better to wear a small pair of knickers underneath, as these are more ! easy to wash and there is nothing worse than seeing a woman’s badly stained panty girdle on a washing line where the marks in the gusset will not remove. As a matter of history pantyhose or tights, we call these, arrived when skirts became very short some years ago. Also came the panty girdle, for those who liked or needed to wear a girdle, which gave a girl a more streamline underwear system to suite the higher hem-line. Don’t forget we had to learn to manage a short skirt in public, bending and sitting. I remember, even before mini skirts, my mother telling me that wherever you are will be a dirty old man, sometimes younger ones, trying to see what is up your skirt. I had a friend who, when mini skirts became fashionable started to wear a micro one. We were both 19 at the time. She got some fun flashing her knickers by bending down in front of boys and sitting carelessly so that men in front of her got a good eyeful. She would often gradually open her legs more and more as ! it became obvious they were interested . We once had a laugh when sitting in a pub, a man who could not get his bins away from looking right up Penny’s skirt to the gusset of her little blue knicks forgot himself and suddenly shat his trousers, I suppose from neglecting his toilet, being otherwise engaged! (excuse the pun). I was too shy to flash owing to my liking for wearing stocking but have found myself sitting accidentally carelessly on occasions and usually could tell when a man opposite would start furtively showing an interest, most males are so predictable! Anyway Penny, who liked to show off a really tight figure, always wore a panty girdle over her tights but with little knickers under the tights for the reason I mentioned before. Actually Penny was a very active girl and as a result changed her knickers at least twice a day as they would soon become too sticky. However, she did not like the idea of showing men that she was wearing a panty girdle, I suppose she wa! nted then to think her figure was all her own work, so she always wore another pair of knickers over the panty girdle. So to recap, under her very short skirt Penny had a little pair of nylon knickers, a pair of shear tights, a control panty girdle and finally another pair of panties over all of that. I remember saying jokingly to her one day, "You will be well covered if you shit yourself". We both collapsed with laughing. However, divine justice lurks! One afternoon it happened walking back from an extended session in the Pub. We were both tipsy and somewhat unsteady, however, I thought I was more far gone than Penny. We still had a long way to walk when Penny said she urgently needed the lavatory. I asked her which one she needed to do wondering if she just wanted a wee. She replied, looking very worried, "A much bigger job than you think". We walked on but I was aware the Penny by now had a look of panic in her face and was holding the back of her skirt with one hand! covering the area of her bottom. She declared "Oh my god let me get there in time". Then she stopped and I walked on a bit thinking with concern for her that she may just want to fart, we are actually very private people. But when I looked back she was still not walking, her legs were a bit apart but now looking absolutely shocked she called me back, and said very urgently, "Carol, please don’t laugh I think I have just shit myself". I went back to her and asked her if she was sure and she said putting her hand just up her skirt at the back of her knickers and panty girdle, "I am almost sure I know I have, yes I have. Dam it I’ve mucked my pants, (remember for us theses are panties), I have totally messed". I asked her if she had done it really bad and how it was and she said that she had filled her knickers and it was like a very large soft pancake. She started to walk awkwardly, remember we were a bit pissed as well. I told her to try to keep her knees together. Sh! e was quite angrily cursing her carelessness saying "I have messed my panty girdle and everything". She did it in her knickers again before we reached home and blurted, "Oh god, shit, some of it’s even gone up my back". Well I suppose she was well covered but certainly had a load of underwear washing to do after cleaning herself up. She was in an awful mess. I wonder if is was such a good idea to wear so many items under a skirt.

I intended to post here anyway to confess that at 18 years old I regularly drink far more alcohol than I really should which has on numerous occasions resulted in arriving home the worst for wear, quite drunk and with dirty knickers. However, after reading some of the letters I must hasten to add that these are all true accidents. In no way do I enjoy finding myself in this situation and to be quite honest I would not purposely shit myself for anyone or for all the money in the world. I hate the feeling when I know that I have done it and although a drunken state creates a feeling of gay abandon, afterwards I am somewhat ashamed and wish that I had been able to effect more control. But it happens and although I don’t know much about other females because I have never discussed this matter, I do hear it is very common among young men, particularly after the excitement of rugby and football matches, to have big drinking bouts and getting so far gone and often leg-less that so! iled underpants are a common result. With me it is a more private matter, I have publicly disgraced myself in the past, but I think now my system has adjusted to large amounts of drink, I do not get leg-less but there are times I realise that I have lost control and filled my pants requiring a major clean-up when I get home. I know I will have to do something about my drinking habits quite soon as my reflexes seem to be not as they were. Last week ago I woke up after a particularly big session the night before feeling more than just hung over. I reluctantly got dressed in a black pleated skirt, light blue nylon knickers and some tights. I don’t often wear a skirt and of the knickers and tights I had worn these the day before. I could not face even coffee, decided not to report for college but started to walk to the local shop for a newspaper and, because I had not done my washing and had run out of fresh knickers, to purchase some paper panties which can be got in a pack of ! five. On the way I realised my bowels wanted to move, remembering that it was unusual with such a big drinking session that I had arrived home the night before in clean knickers my internal system was beginning to get its own back. A girl I know stopped me to talk, we used to be in the same class when we attended grammar school. I was not really feeling up to it but she insisted and I couldn’t be bothered to anything but stand there and listen. She was going on and on about her new boyfriend lots and lots of details and I was just getting bored out of my mind. Now I think about it I may have been still slightly pissed from the night before. My stomach started to feel peculiar, my bowels felt very full and suddenly thought, I think I am going to shit myself ! Now this is very difficult to explain unless you were feeling the way I was. I did not want to do it, specially in front of her, and I could have stopped myself from making a mess in my panties if I had really tried to ho! ld it. But I really couldn’t decide one way or the other. Although it was not diarrhoea it needed no effort or push on my part, it just all came out so easily and somehow I just allowed a large load of poop slide out of me which filled my panties spewed out of both my knickers legs and soiled the whole of the panty section of my tights and the top of my thighs, messing up the back of my skirt as well. However it didn’t happen quietly, she was still talking away until that burping spluttering splattering sound from the back of my skirt which seemed to go on for such a long time. The effect upon her was quite devastating. She stopped talking, her mouth gapped open and she looked in shock. She muttered something I don’t even know what it was. I said quietly I have just had an accident. Her eyes opened in disbelief and she enquired if I had done something in my pants. I was really fed up by then and not too pleased with what had happened and blurted out, "You can put it that wa! y if you like, but to put it another way I have just properly shit my myself, I have filled my knickers, messed up my tights and skirt." She exclaimed oh no, surly you new you were doing it, why didn’t you stop? I told her maybe she was carrying on so much I thought I should give her something interesting to tell her boyfriend. She said "Oh how can you do something so disgusting and out in the street too". I felt really pissed and told her it was very easy and she should try it some time in front of her nice boyfriend. She walked off telling me this was quite disgraceful and I waddled off back home without going to the shop and without the paper panties I needed now more than ever. I don’t think we will ever speak to each other again. I won’t miss much but she might. This would have been the end of my posting but I feel a need to appeal about a related matter. I have confessed that arriving home from the pub, unsteady, quite drunk and realising I have used my pants for the toilet is all too familiar. But this is my problem which should not be made worse by men who take advantage. To give an example of this, I was walking home two days ago from a whole evening at my local hostelry absolutely pissed. I know that I nearly walked off the pavement into the road a few times and bumped into a few lamp posts, I was having difficulty waking in a straight line. But, in my own way I was making some progress and new I would arrive home sometime, somehow. Some bloke in the pub had offered to drive me home in his car and I almost excepted until in the pub entrance lobby he touched me up, obviously taking advantage because I was drunk. I was wearing loose fitting trousers and had some tights over my little knickers so he didn’t get his hand into much but it was too much for me without asking my permission. By the way this is why I have alre! ady said that I don’t often wear a skirt. I am convinced that some men are such cowards they wouldn’t touch a woman in the street, pub or in the office for fear of criminal prosecution even though they are lusting to do so. But get a girl on her own who has become disadvantaged because of drink and they get so bold and think they can get away with just anything and they often do. I once saw a chap in the pub car park one night with his hand so far pressed up the skirt right into the crotch of a drunk girl he was pretending to escort, she had tears in her eyes but was quite unable to prevent him exploring with all his might. She told me latter that he had managed to get his hand inside her knickers. He did not know that I had seen this and when he had done what he wanted he just walked off sniffing his fingers leaving the unfortunate girl in a daze. I helped her adjust her underwear and got her a taxi with a female driver. Back to that other night, the man who touched me earlier, had a painful reward but even I was incapable of a fight so was glad when he disappeared. However I had not stumbled too far along the road when I recognised the familiar wetness in the seat of my pants and underneath me. When one is so inebriated, (I am glad I can still spell that), it is not always possible to work out all that is going on. I hoped and thought that I had just pissed myself. Sometimes I am unsure what has happened and my first task on getting inside the door of my flat is to lean against the wall, so not to fall over, just lower my trousers to the top of my thighs, enough to just drop my pants to inspect the damage to my knickers gusset and inside of my trousers. Often, I am only able to discover whether I have pissed myself or shit myself on examination when I get home. A big difference I know, but try it when your drunk! Anyway, this time I kept walking but put my hand to the back of my pants, (just realised that these are panties in American), inside the seat of my trousers and felt something not too wet but quite sticky and on examination my fingers were stained. Dam, I had messed my knickers by shitting myself, I thought no big deal, just another time. Its best not to cry over spilt milk or in this case cream in the panties and joking thought if only I got paid a £1 every time I do this I’d be a wealthy young girl! I nearly walked off the pavement again and then narrowly missed another lamp post, I was aware how unsteady I was. Then all of a sudden without warning I did a big load, filling the seat of my knickers and making a bulge which protruded the back of my trousers. There was no mistaking that one I started to be able to smell it to. I had shit myself again but a really big job this time this time and it will be even more difficult to walk. I thought this must be the largest panty load I have ever managed and wondered if there could be a prize, there was. I gingerly put my hand to the back of the trousers, on the outside this time, my fingers detected the bulge. It was like a huge soft pancake but seemed evenly placed around my bottom and, between my legs it did not feel as if any had yet come through the elastic of the legs of my knickers. Hopefully, I thought, the top of my legs would not become soiled. As I have said I do not enjoy this happening but always do try to limit the damage. I estimated that if I walked more carefully, although more slowly, I would eventually get home without too much discomfort. The one thing I must not do tonight is loose my balance and fall over. That would really soil or mess everything I had got on. So, I have stumbled and half waddled on my way home. I heard some footsteps overtaking me and an older man was at my side saying that he was most concerned for me as I appeared so unsteady and declared that he should look after me and see me home. I thought oh no, not another one. He did the usual question time just to be sure of his ground and as we stumbled on , now with his arm around my shoulder, asked I had been drinking too much, was I really drunk and how far did I have to go, if I was on my own and maybe he should come home with me to put me to bed. I had heard it all before! He was just making sure that he could safely suggest rude things maybe try something on, whatever he could get away with, you can read these people like a book. I was surprised he could not smell that I had soiled myself but supposed he was thinking up his plan. This all sounds silly but when you are far gone with drink, you know you have shit yourself, you were not in a fit state to work thing out and you just let things go on. I don’t even remember what he looked like. I told him yes I was pissed out of my mind, I did have a log way to go and no there wasn’t anyone waiting for me. If I had be more in possession I should have said I only live round the corner where my policeman boyfriend would be waiting at the door. But I fell right into his hands, I was blown out of my mind but I did say that I was used to this and could manage on my own thank you very much and please take your arm away from my shoulder. He told me he had a daughter my age so I had nothing to be afraid of. He said an attractive young girl should be much more cautious drinking too much and told me to be very careful not to wet my knickers. I suppose saying that to me gave him a thrill. I still do not know why he could not smell me as it appeared later he just did not know. Then still with one arm around me he asked me if I had wet my pants and patted his other hand on my bum outside the back of my trousers. I just did not have the energy to even push him away but thought, here we go again! Looking back I think he was waiting until he was sure no one was walking nearby and no cars were passing on the road. All of a sudden he revealed his dirty plan and what he did next took me completely by surprise. He moved his hand pushing his fingers still outside my trousers, underneath me from behind pressing his fingers hard into me and reaching right forward to the front part of my vagina, pushing the crotch of my trousers and gusset of my underwear right up inside my bottom and my vagina and wriggling his fingers as he groped me very hard. He was after a quick one feeling as much of my parts as possible in detail. As he slid his fingers from reaching far at the front towards the back he treated himself to a detailed feel of my undercarriage now that my pants and things were right inside me. What he had not bargained for is he had squashed my mess so hard and some and leaked through the back of my trousers all over his hand. Although I had not done diarrhoea it was quite soft and he, without knowing what was there had squeezed it all out. Realising now that his hand was in a load of mush and although wet this was not wee, he snatched is hand away very quickly and at the same time there was an awful stench coming from me and his dirty hand. He come to that terrible realisation and shouted angrily oh you dirty fifthly bitch and promptly waked off probably to secretly enjoy himself somewhere. Here is proof of the performance of a coward, thrilled himself by embarrassing a young girl with the fatherly pretence asking if she had wet herself and would have no doubt been bold enough to politely enquire if I had messed my pants. But when it appears that the dirty deed has been really done and have embarrassed themselves and are off like a bat out of hell. I knew that I was in a terrible muck. Shit was everywhere, down my legs, into every crevice and opening underneath me, up my back, right through my trousers at the back, the crotch and even right at the front of then. It was so messy and uncomfortable I had to walk with my legs wide apart and I stunk to high heaven and I felt sick. I new I had been violated, seriously sexually assaulted, but what could I do. Imagine the newspape! rs, it would make the nationals. Young female of 18 years drinks too much, shits herself and then claims it was made worse by an indecent assault! I got home at last, waddled my way across the hall and to the stairs leading to my flat. Old Harry waiting by the door of his ground floor flat. Once on the way to the laundrette I left my black sack of clothes for washing at the bottom while I went back upstairs to use the toilet, I had bee taken short again. I returned just in time to see Harry examining the contents of the sack, he had some soiled panties in his hand which I took off him. He said he wondered who the bag belonged to. I later discovered I had lost three pairs of soiled knickers and one pair of used tights. Anyway, there was dirty Harry all eyes on me, as boy was I in a state, it was obvious what I had done. He tried to make a grab at me and said, "You naughty girl, you are completely pissed and I can see you have badly shit your pants". I stepped aside to avoid another experience there had been enough for one night and told him as I escaped walking wide legged up the stairs. Okay big boy, I said, I have messed my pants, soiled myself and shit my knickers terrible, but it was not helped by a dirty old fart like you. Okay I appeal to you Male Knights in Shining Armour, please don’t take advantage of the misfortunes of defenceless young girls and please keep your dirty roving hands to yourself.