I've been turned on by poop habits since i was a little girl. Often,i would go to the bathroom with my friends when they needed to shit and i'd help by pushing on their abdomen.And i would love the straining and the plops,and i'd often look in the toilet to see.It was a lot of fun.As for being constipated,i was quite often as a child. i was always messing my pants and getting in trouble for it.I always would go into a corner or somewhere alone and cross my legs holding it back.I was often constipated and sick.One time at 4 or 5yrs old i had to go to the hospital to get a needle up my ass and then was forced on the toilet and pooped finally.Then as i left the hospital i threw My mom would always get stressed out by my not pooping.And would always sit me on the toilet everyday until i did something,then she'd come in look at it and tell me if it was ok or had to do more.I hated that.Anyone else used to hold back so often? Hey,the other day i went and did something,but i felt full yet and nothing came.I tried to lie down and stick my finger up there,and i heard stories of people pulling out pieces of it,but i cant do that!It just didn't work.I am doing it wrong or something?What else could i do to get it going?i was putting pressure on my abdomen and leaned forward and all that stuff,rubbed my ????,couldn't get it going.Does vaseline work?is it ok to do?Just apply it on your hole? keep the great poop stories coming!i love hearing about them!

I had a very shameful accident in my panties this evening. I went to go park my truck in the street, and then I took a walk around the block. I was wearing a short dress, and I was self-conscience about exposing my panties. It's the kind of dress where I have to keep pulling it down, so that it doesn't ride-up and reveal my white, nylon panties. After I parked my truck, I decided to take a walk around the block. I felt a painful shit cramp in my stomach, and I was worried that I would have an accident. As I was walking, I noticed that a man had just parked in the church parking lot in the corner of the block. I noticed that he was staring at my legs, as if he was hoping that I'd bend over with my short dress and expose my panties. That's when the urge to crap got really uncomfortable. I stood there and squeezed my legs together, and hoped that I wound't soil my undies. The man in the church parking lot kept staring at my legs, as if he was praying that I'd crap my panties. Finally, I couldn't hold it anymore. A large turd escaped from butt and filled my panties, accompanied by a loud farting sound. I saw the guy across the street giggle. Then I saw him talking to another guy, and he was pointing at me, and said "ha, ha - that girl over there pooped her underwear". I had to continue my trip home, with a load of crap in my panties. I felt very ashamed, because the bulge of crap in my panties was entending below the hemline of my dress, and it was obvious to anyone that drove by that I soiled my panties. As I walking home, two cars that drove by honked at me and yelled out something like "hey, go poop in the toilet next time".

David W.
Gary, I appreciate your response. There have been times that I've had to poop real bad but it was like the Richard Pryor routine, "Don't you hate it when you gotta shit real bad but when you sit down only a little bit comes out?" I know there were times when only two or three "marbles" came out but I never knew beforehand whether it would be logs or marbles. If I had tried that, it would be a mushy mess. This happened in the 70's when boxers for boys (at least Americans) was unheard of. I guess he was not wearing any underwear under his jeans, which was also unheard of.

Thanks to the other Bridget who posts on this site, who wrote to readers not to identify us as the same person. This way, people won't be confused as to who is actually writing. What Bridget has experienced has never happened to me personally but I really sympathize with what she has gone through. Therefore, I believe parents should use a different approach when it comes to toilet training or supervising their child's defecation habits. Maybe toilet training would be easier and children would be more open about toilet issues if parents would not make them feel so humiliated and pressured. Also, making a child sit on the toilet for 2 hours as punisment or reprimanding a child who has difficulty "relieving" him/herself will only result in the child resenting the idea of using the toilet, which would then slow the process of training. It is no wonder that afterwards, school nurses discover that many children have not passed any stools for a very prolonged period. Finally, I understand why Bridget was reluctant to use the school bathrooms, considering there were no doors on the stalls. I, myself always wait until I get home to use the washroom even if the public washrooms have doors on the stalls. I have never once gone into a place which had no doors in the toilet cubicles. Every school I have gone to, as well as any other public establishment has always had privatized stall enclosures. Perhaps it is because I live in Canada where we are more conservative about such issues.--- Bridget

I wonder if your trouble with having a BM in an open stall stems from homosexuality? Bill Clinton is famous for supporting gay causes and President George Bush did it to a lesser extent. 10 years ago, people did not dwell upon that issue like they do today. Young people will grasp upon new ideas faster than we oldsters. I hear in some high schools being bisexual is fashionable. Our last two presidents endorsed the gay life-style. The president is a role modle whether he likes to be or not. I would like to hear from you junior high schoolers, high schoolers and college students about the situation. Your feed back would be interesting.

I was away over last weekend at a conference. We were based in a hotel out in the country and the food was amazing and in seemingly endless supply. Suffice it to say that I pigged out on the food and enjoyed some very satisfying visits to the toilet as a result. Some people (my husband for instance) have problems when it comes to a change of diet and routine, but that hardly ever affects me. I suppose it is what we refer to as our "constitution". There was a fitness suite in the hotel, so I burnt off the excess calories in there. I think I can say that every "movement" I had could be described as "easy" and that on a couple of occasions, I did that sort of poo that seems to go on forever - it just keeps sliding out. That is, I have to say, the most satisfying of any kind of poo I have ever had. I was back at work towards the end of the week, and I saw something on the train on Friday morning that made me smile, and might interest readers here. (Caroline are you there?) We were nearing the end of the journey, and a woman, obviously dressed to draw attention to herself - low cut top, very short skirt, long boots, bleached blonde hair, you know the type I mean! She flounced down the corridor and went into the loo. I was rather amused to see that she was still in there when we pulled into the station at the end of the journey, and everyone dashes off. My guess is that she mistimed it and took longer than she was expecting in there. I happen to know that almost as soon as the train stops, people walk through to check no-one is left on board, in case they get taken off to the sidings, and they always check the toilets. This will have left her a small dilemma (not that I imagine she had too many brain cells to occupy!). If she flushes the loo she gets into trouble for doing it in the station. If she doesn't, the person who finds her gets to see what she left in the loo. How do I know this? Yes, it happened to me once! (I flushed!).

I found George's latest post giving his analysis of the reasons people are turned on by both their own defecation and that of others of great interest. It is myself he is refering to in his recent post as the friend at school who felt that listening to his mother defecate and seeing her motions occasionally evened the score for her watching him as a young kid and asking about his bowel movements. As Ive said she was somewhat private and a bit prudish about her own motions but from when I was a toddler till I was about 6 or so she would accompany me to the toilet when I did a number 2 and observe what I had done. Once when I was about 6 I walked in on her when she was doing a motion and got smacked for my troubles and told "Not to be vulgar and dirty", my protest that she watched me doing a jobbie cut no ice. I was brought up in a strict Roman Catholic home where anything to do with the body or sex was considered sinful. After that she stopped coming in with me but did often ask if "I had had a motion" I always said yes even if I hadn't although she didn't dose me or herself with laxatives as happened to some of my classmates , some getting their weekly dose of strong purgatives even if they werent constipated just to clean then out, this often resulting in their having diarrhea accidents in their pants. A barbarous thing to do to kids without their sanction! Defecation was something that was "vulgar" to my mother, just like periods, or even reference to underwear etc. Certainly the forbidden fruit syndrome as George put it was the case with me. Listening to her doing her motions and especially seeing the turds she had passed from time to time was both a coup for me and a turn on. From an early age say 7 or 8 I felt no guilt about such matters unlike my mother. To me it was a natural matter and if you enjoyed it so much the better and I also got a buzz out of passing a nice big solid jobbie myself. (Needless to say I am not now a Roman Catholic myself rejecting ALL religions as vehicles of guilt and repression in my youth and ever since). Secretly I knew as much about my mother's bowel movements as she did herself whether it had been hard or easy, small or big, one turd or a number of them, and sometimes actually saw what she had passed. Im glad to say she never found this out as I would have got a frightful thrashing. Finally, if she had been as open about such things as some mothers mentioned in these pages I wonder if I would have had such an interest in defecation? Observations from other readers with similar experiences would be appreciated.

Bridget, No one, especially your Mother, should ever punish you emotionally, to the extent you describe, no matter what the benefit. If I looked at it from her side in a previous post, I was wrong and I admit it. It is very difficult for a parent to balance things, and your Mom didn't choose the right path. There must have been some other way to help you out of your fear of the school toilets. It is good that you can look back on it now, in all its painful aspects. Very best wishes to you,

There were 6 of us, Bem, Mike, Bong, Aries, Beng and I. We always like to stay in the school toilet. We refer to it as Beng's pad. One day, I brought a case of beer inside THE pad, Bem brought tequilla. All of a sudden, Mike sprayed something towards Aries. We thought it was beer. Yeah, it looked like beer, but the drops tasted different. Little did we know that Mike was already drunk and was spraying his water. All of us joined in and unzipped our pants. We were all drunk as hell. We frolicked wet with ammonia-smelling liquid. I puked... at Aries' orange head. Bem took some turdied water from the bowl and rinsed Aries' head with it. This anecdote really stinks, man

Sunday, April 05, 1998

Thanks to everyone for all the sympathy concerning my accident on the way home from school and the way I was treated by my mother. Though that was a while ago, I still sometimes have nightmares about it. Nightmares like it happening again and Mom really marching me back to school to clean it up in front of my friends. You people are wonderful to be on my side. As to the one comment about mom at least breaking me of my habit of holding in, that may be true but I do think there were better ways she could have gone about it. Trust me, I think I was already broken of the habit as I waddled home with that enormous load of poop in my panties. As bad as the school toilets were, nothing was as bad as that. Nothing that is, until mom confronted me and then made me clean it up in front of her. There were no more embarrassing accidents but my bowel habits in school was also a source of stress between us (even today, she sometimes still mention the subject) and there were also times at school when I got into trouble for things sneaking into the teachers' bathroom to do it, pretending I was sick so I could use the nurse's bathroom and even cutting class, so I could go to the bathroom somewhere else. Mom didn't "cure" me of my school bathroom problem, she just scared me into not letting it happen again. Incidentally, I'm a different Bridget than the one who wrote about the different kinds of poop.

I was at Disney world quite recently and while waiting for the use of the johnnie, a gent with a (3? year old) toddler asked me if he could use the next stall availible as he was in a hurry. I wasn't in the ultimate hurry, and when a stall became availible he just ran in, dropped a soiled (huggies?) nappy in the johnnie, and flushed, and ran out. I was quite surprised to find that the johnnie wasn't plugged up and that the nappy was gone. Unfortunately a couple wipes landed on the seat, had to brush those in the johnnie with the paper. Are huggies or something like that in the states flushable? I know the huggies here would easily plug any johnnie. Also, is it standard practice among parents over there to run nappies down the johnnie? Has anyone else seen nappies being put down the johnnie?

I live in a semi-detached house, which is adjoining to another house (for the benefit of people in other countries). If I go into my loft I am able to crawl over the rafters and look down into the neighbours bathroom through a small crack in their ceiling next to the light fitting. I am fortunate in living next to a very attractive 25-year-old lady with a very good figure; she is married with a four-year-old son. Every morning as soon as her husband leaves for work, she goes to the bathroom accompanied by her son. She sits on the toilet with her pyjama bottoms pulled down to her knees and lean right forward playing with her sons toys on the floor in front of her to keep him amused while she do her poop. I suppose this enables her to keep an eye on him and helps to toilet train him. My view is straight down over the toilet seat and I can vividly see the top of her bum on the toilet, she usually sit there for about 10 minutes before standing up to wipe her bum. From the view I have I can see clearly into the toilet and by how much she needed to go. After she has wiped about 5-10 times she flush the toilet then sits her son on the seat while she get dressed. This has become the highlight of my mornings.

Last weekend, my wife and I went to Dallas to meet her folks. We took some time and went to the Southfork Ranch as seen in the Dallas TV series. We got a tour of the inside of the house which looked totally different from the show. When we got to the upstairs, there was a bathroom with "dual dumpers", that is, toilets right next to each other. There were these 2 good looking H.S. girls taking pictures of each other squatting on the johns making grunting noises. It was hilarious. I'll envy any guy who marries those girls. Hopefully, they will be very open about their dumping. As per George, he mentioned that some couples will play in all sorts of sex but yet insist that they dump in privacy which my wife falls into.

David W.
Gary, I appreciate your response. There have been times that I've had to poop real bad but it was like the Richard Pryor routine, "Don't you hate it when you gotta shit real bad but when you sit down only a little bit comes out?" I know there were times when only two or three "marbles" came out but I never knew beforehand whether it would be logs or marbles. If I had tried that, it would be a mushy mess. This happened in the 70's when boxers for boys (at least Americans) was unheard of. I guess he was not wearing any underwear under his jeans, which was also unheard of.

Gary, Well, if I had been constipated my mom would ask each day thereafter for about a week or two whether I had pooped that day. Then she would forget about it for a while. Usually there would be no one around when she asked. There were several occasions that I went with a friend after school and we would take turns sitting on the toilet. My mom asked once: "Did you both go?" and: "Do you both go right after school?" and a couple of times we passed massive turds at school (3-4 days worth) and just left it in the toilet for everyone to see. I think the janitors flushed them after school.

Saturday, April 04, 1998

I now find it funny how you've all been complaining about no doors on stalls in bathrooms or having to hold it in school. Today, at our school, they locked all of the boys bathrooms due to offensive graphiti. All the boys had to go to the nurses office to relieve themselves. I was lucky to have gym today cause there are bathrooms there. But I don't know what I'll do on Monday when I have to pee.

I hope this posting is not a repeat but the one I did this morning possibly didnt transmit properly so here goes again. I like Bridget's and Gary's posts on constipation and must agree with Bridget that many people are interested and turned on by defecation when they are kids but have this programmed out by parents " Its dirty, polite people dont talk about these things, its very private" etc. Again when they reach adolesence most are realigned towards physical sex either with the opposite or their own sex. Myself and Moira, while hetrosexual, still retain our coprophiliac interests and turn ons. My childhood was lucky and unusual in that Aunt Helen and the two girls Nicky and Debbie were very open about such matters even to the extent that Helen didnt mind if myself or her daughters were having a shower or bath when she came in to do a motion and we heard and saw what she was doing. To her, defecation was a completely natural function like eating or sleeping and nothing to be ashamed of. Although we didnt discuss our bowel motions in front of strangers or people likely to be offended, we did ! quite openly in the family commenting on the size, colour etc. It was not uncommon for my aunt to say something like "I had a really good motion in the Ladies' Toilet at work today" then go on to describe the jobbie passed. My wife Moira on the other hand didnt have quite such an open mother and both she and her young brother enjoyed listening to their mother doing her motions and sometimes seeing what she had passed. I suppose its the Forbidden Fruit Syndrome. To most people defecation is a very private matter, even couples who are very intimate with each other indulging in Oral and Anal sex and other practices will not permit their partner to watch them defecate. Moira and I have quite progressive friends who like bondage and spanking but who consider Moira and I accompanying each other to the toilet when doing a motion to be too far out. Well, each to their own. Hearing someone doing a good solid motion and actually seeing the jobbies produced lets one into to a very pe! rsonal secret and also one can share the experience . I also had a friend at school with similar interests who felt that it evened the score with his mother who watched him doing a motion but who was very jealous of her own privacy while doing one herself. As regards childhood constipation , it was more usually my aunt and the girls once they reached puberty who were constipated and I agree that this seems to happen to many females around the time of their menstrual periods. My motions have always been usually in the firm to easy catagory. Whenever any of us or my Aunt were constipated we would insert some vaseline in our rectums and sit in a warm bath, then my aunt would rub our ???? (she did this for herself) and this normally resulted in the passing with some straining of some large solid jobbies. Laxatives were NEVER used either by my aunt or given to us. I agree with Gary about the ideal approach of parents to defecation as regards their kids. That it is a natural function not something to be ashamed of. After all we enjoy eating the food so should also enjoy passing the motions which result at the end of its being digested.

Some Guy
After some heavy thinking I think I remember a time where I walked on one of my female friends sitting on the toilet. I can't remember whether it really happened or if it was just a dream, though. I was between 3 and 5 when this happened. This could be where my toilet fetish originates.

About 10 or 15 years ago a conversation about toddler arose. In the nursery there was a rule. The children were not to close the door when they were in the bathroom; the little ones could get into trouble without supervision. One day a girl was putting up a fuss. She did not have a penis like the boys. The attendant had to explain to the girl that the reason she did not have a penis was because she was a girl. If she were reincarnated she would remember that simple fact!

Friday, April 03, 1998

Last weekend I went to the beach with my wife and our next door neighbor. We took a 5 liter box of wine and a bunch of beer. The beach was a rather primitive beach, no restrooms or many people for that matter. We parked at the far end of the beach and the kids all took off for the water (2 boys 3 girls). We parked next to a woman in a nice BWM. She was 47 and very nice looking. The water was the right temperature for the kids but to cold for us. THe lady next to us (Sandi) introduced herself. We shared wine and beer together for a while. I picked this beach because it had no bathrooms. My wife lets me watch her pee all the time. I was wanted to see Christine (neighbor) pee too. She had no problem going outside. After her first beer Sandi announced that she had to pee. She went behind our car and went and pee. From where I was sitting I was able to see her stream. As she started back from peeing I went back to go. As I passed her she told me she could pee standing up. I lied and told her I never saw that before. I asked if I could watch next time. The next she had to pee she invited me back to watch and my wife said ok. We went behind my car. She pulled the crotch of her suit asisde, opened her lips and peed. I watched her pee and got pretty turned on. As she finshed I peed for her. Before I could finish Christine came back squatted next to me and I got to watch her. Through out the day I got to watch them go many times. My wife Joan never went though. I found out later that she needed to poop real bad and didn't want to poop in front of them. I asked my wife why she let me watch them, she said that she knew if I got really turned on I would be great for sex that night. Christine is over at my house almost every night now. She lets me watch her pee when ever our kids are not around. My wife is very happy with this because she gets more sex.

Hello everyone!!! I want to comment on the chart that is used to describe the different types of shit; it is very interesting. I, myself, range between level 2 and 3{firm to easy}, although, like everyone, I do get the occasional bout of constipation or diarrhea. It's interesting to know that actual medical facilities use this chart to analyze the consistency of stools. Personally, that is a profession I wouldn't mind having. Like Moira has once mentioned, illustrations would definitely help in enhancing that chart. Also, with all the recent talk about constipation, I have to say that I find that particular subject fascinating. Obviously, many people are turned on when listening to or watching someone who is constipated and trying to do a motion. Primarily, because of the excessive straining that is required or because of the sound that the round, hard turds make when they splash into the toilet. I myself am aroused about such things. Reading some of the posts here, I have come to figure out what it is that causes us to have such a fascination for toilet issues. I think our interest might stem from some of our childhood experiences, perhaps with the unusual toilet training methods some posters here have been initiated to. On the other hand, many families don't associate much importance to discussions or strict methods of training pertaining to bowel movements. So, there is also a factor of curiosity involved for many of us, like me, whose families were never open with such issues. I guess it is prompted by the voyeuristic sense that is in all of us. I would like to know other people's views on this subject. I have been fascinated by defecation since childhood and I am now 24. While I do not quite remember how my interest began, I would like to know how others have developed their fixation and whether or not some of you believe that it is somehow connected to the theories I have described above.---Bridget

Silent Spice
I saw Titanic for the second time last night and because of what happened I never want to drink pop when Im watching a 3 hour movie in a theatre again!!!!! It was a medium pop and I peed just before we left and the pop was gone even before the old Rose tells the story of the Titanic! I was too thirsty to save any for later. I was fine until the part when Rose tells Jack she is marrying Cal. Thats when I got the urge to pee. I wanted to watch the whole thing without missing any again because its a cool movie. I REALLY had to pee when Cal was shooting at Rose and Jack in the flooding Titanic. And seeing all the water flooding and stuff didnt help me hold it much!! I always have to pee badder when I see water!! Right after Rose tries to wake up Jack when they are in the water I felt the pee leaking out and felt a wet spot between my legs. After My Heart Will Go On ended I wrapped my jacket around my waist and hoped that no one saw the wet spot on the chair after I got up. Then when we got home I went to the bathroom to change my pants. I should of did what I did the first time I saw it(not get any pop at all)!!! Thats all I have to say.

Reply to David W.
Hi David...I read your post down below about the boy who passed a marble through the leg of his pants. You said that you couldn't imagine how anyone could do such a thing. Well...I'll tell you! It's really very easy! When I was a boy I did it all the time! Here's How! First of've got to be wearing loose fitting "boxer" briefs! Second...Your pants have to be rather loose as well... Third...pick a time when you've not had a bowel movement for two or three days. Your turd will be rather firm; and quite large. Fourth...You will, of course, experience strong urges to defecate. After haven't gone in three days! You'll enjoy feeling that big hard turd pushing relentlessly against your anus. At some point, your efforts to "hold it in" ease up... just for a second...and the massive turd manages to peek out a bit! That's the moment!!! Squeeze with all your might and pinch off that marble! Fifth...The marble will be hard and dry enough so as not to soil your underpants or cause excessive odor. Simply allow enough time and it will work it's way out between your cheeks and fall down through your pant leg. It's easy! Of course it's up to you whether or not you want to draw anyone's attention to what you've just produced. You realize that even though your young friend only passed the the time you two were playing his rectum was no doubt very full with feces that he chose to retain for a while longer. I wonder how big that movement was when he finally emptied himself? Gary...always ready to discuss the "finer points" of childhood bowel activity.

Hello Donny
Just finished reading your reply to my earlier post on the subject of childhood constipation.
So your folks asked you every day whether or not you'd had a bowel movement? Exactly how was that accomplished in your case? Did she ask you in private...or were other people around to hear your reply?
My Mom tried that with me too...'cause I had so much trouble with constipation.
But, 'cause I fibbed to her a couple of times...then she started making me leave my movement in the bowl until she could examine it. I was (supposedly) an "after-breakfast" pooper...My routine; or what my Mom wanted my routine to be...was for me to sit on the toilet 10 minutes after breakfast; whether or not I had the urge to go. Much of the time I would eventually be able to produce a movement after sitting there for a while. I'd tell her...and she'd come look at it and then flush it.
Back then, I didn't know the meaning of stress. But now, looking back on those years...I realize that the expectation of me being able to produce a bowel movement every day at that time was indeed stressful for me. I worried a lot about it.

I don't know which is worse:
(1) You hear of parents who have no idea whatsoever as to the bowel habits of their children. Their child lands in the nurses office at school because of a stomache ache or some such symptom...and it's discovered that he/she hadn't had a bowel movement for weeks...and the parents had no idea.
(2) Then there's my Mom's type...not willing or able to let nature take it's course...and doing a daily quiz/exam to insure what she feels is a normal pattern exists.

The enlightened parent should do the following:
(1)From infancy; through diet and exercise, lay the groundwork for your child to be regular. Very important.
(2) Never, for any reason, and in any manner, draw your child's undue attention to his/her bowel function. Mother nature does just fine 99% of the time.
(3) Through the normal, unplanned "opportunities" of family living (jr. forgetting to flush, for example)...make observations of the normalcy or lack there-of of your children's bowel movements.
(4) Again; in a purposely off-handed way...make your children aware of what is "normal" and what is not in relation to their process of elimination. For example; your child should know that it is not "normal" to experience pain when moving their bowels. Just like all other things in their lives; make it easy for your child to tell you of problems they may be having in this regard.
P.S. Other posters...let me know the degree of daily involvement your parents had in the function of your bowels...and the manner in which they handled it.
Thanks so much!

Thursday, April 02, 1998

I wanted to answer Gary's survey. Every now and then I was constipated as a child, 3-4 days without shitting, maybe 5-6 days occassionally. I was given a mild laxative once or twice but most of the time I worked a little vaseline into my butt with my finger. (my mother showed me this trick) and I still like to do this. I was told not to strain, but to lean forward to put pressure onto my ????. Sit on the toilet and relax, to take my time. I remember reading or doing coloring books while sitting on the toilet. I always got an erection while sitting on the toilet and got caught playing with my dick a couple of times. I never went to a doctor because of constipation. Constipation was a word I never heard until I was about 12, I was usually asked if I had been to the toilet that day. I often pooped at school and got into trouble for being away from class too long. In seventh grade I was gone for about 30 minutes one time and when I got back a girl asked me if I had fallen in or if I was playing with myself. I told her I was playing with myself and she cracked up.

Hullo again. I enjoyed reading Gary's questionaire about Constipation and some of the replies so far.
As a kid I wasnt often constipated, indeed Im lucky that I have always tended to pass firm to easy motions (grades 2 to 3) the only exception being when I either have a ???? upset or exam / interview nerves or in very hot weather if Im sweating too much and have less fluid in my system so my stools harden up. I certainly new the meaning of the word constipation as my mother, as I have previously written was often constipated and I see that other women and girls say that they too are constipated about the time of their monthly menstrual period. My mother certainly was as I came to realise when I was old enough to understand such matters and her PMT bad temper used to coincide with her constipation . Although she was a bit prudish about such matters she didnt hide the fact that she was bound up. Normally she never mentioned the matter of her stools she just went to the toilet for a motion and was out in a few minutes passing 2 or 3 easy turds with loud "Ku-ploonk! Kursploos! h! Kaplonk!" type sounds which I enjoyed listening to . However when she was constipated she she would say, before she went to the toilet, "You'd better go to the toilet before me , Im a bit constipated and will be in there for a while" Even if I didnt need I'd go to the toilet and pull the flush as our toilet had a slow filling cistern with a weak flush and this would improve the chances of my seeing her jobbies if they didnt flush away properly. As soon as she was safely in the toilet if no one else was in the house I'd tip toe up to the toilet door to listen and look through the key hole, seeing her fat legs and large panties at the top of them. Her wee wee would tinkle and she would fart a lot then I would hear her grunt and strain "OO! OO! OH! AH! PLOP! OH! OO! OO! PLONK! OO! OO! PLINK! PLUNK! " as the hard balls were slowly pushed out of her back passage. This would go on for a few minutes then she would pause to get her breath back then do some more "PLOP! PLOONK! PLOOMP! As she sat there her motion would get a bit easier and I'd hear the familiar cracking sound accompanied by a sustained OO! OO! AH!and she would sometimes do another short wee wee then "KERSPLOOSH! OO! OO! AH! KURSPLOONK!" as she finally passed the bulk of her motion in 2 firm fat turds. Finished I'd see her hand peel some paper off the toilet roll and go behind to wipe herself then she would get up pulling up her panties and dropping her skirt. I would then get away from the toilet door as she pulled the flush and came out to wash her hands in the bathroom next door. Sometimes the cistern hadnt filled and there would be a dull clunk when she pulled the chain. I knew then that I would be able to see what she had done and waited till she had gone somewhere else in the house the entered the toilet and looked in the pan at the fat hard balls and easier though still knobbily carrot shaped jobbies in the water. When she came out of the toilet she was often a bit red in the face from her exertions but never commented on what she had done only to say "That's better" or something like that. Once she had dumped this hard load every month she would be back to normal doing her usual daily motion. To answer Gary further she didnt use any medicines such as laxatives when she was constipated and this was usually for about 4 or 5 days before she did a hard motion like the one described above. I remember that her ???? did sometimes seem a bit distended causing a neighbour one time to ask if she was expecting a baby. To his great embarassment and my amusement as a 10 year old boy she replied, "Oh no, Ive been constipated for the last 3 days" Later that day she dropped a large hard load and her ???? returned to its usual size. I hope this interests Gary and have other readers similar histories to relate?

All of your stories about toilet activities never mention the subject of enemas. I enjoy giving my wife an enema while she is sitting on the toilet. She is fully clothed at the time and she enjoys taking an enema. The sight of her sitting on the toilet with her silky pink panties stretched across her stocking clad knees (she always wears a garter belt or thigh top stockings) gives me an enormous you know what. I also rub her ???? while she is expelling the enema and I love to hear her grunts and groans and sighs of relief

story: On Sunday I went and did some shopping at a local mall. After having lunch at the "food court" I felt the need for a BM coming on. Going down the hallway to the bathrooms there was a mother about 40 with a little girl ahead of me. The girl was 4 or 5 years old. They went into the bathroom ahead of me. The mother was of medium height and build with dark shoulder length hair. She had on jeans and white T-shirt. They went into one of the middle stalls togeather and I went into the one beside them. I pulled down my jeans and slowly sat down on the toilet. I could see under the stall and hear that the girl had to pee first. She was so small that I could just see her feet below the partion. As she was peeing I started to push myself. I was able to push out 3 small logs fairly quickly without much effort. As I was starting to wipe I could see that the mother had changed places with her little girl. All this time the two of them were talking back and forth. The girl was asking questions, like " what are people doing etc." The mother started to pee at first. But as she was talking to her daughter Icould hear starting to strain. She had to keep telling her daughter to stay in with her. I think she kept trying to open the stall door to leave. As she was pushing I could hear the girl say "are you pooing momey" I could hear reply soflty that yes she was. I heard two pieces splash into the toilet. Then she started taking toilet paper to wipe. She seemed to be in a bit of rush but I think that was due to her daugher wanting to leave. I had finished by then and went out to wash my hands. I sometimes think it is sad that this kind of closeness doesn't carry on when we get older. Take Care, Susan

Kevin L
Last week I made my annual trip to Myrtle Beach with a couple buddies for a long weekend of golf. It is about a 9 hour drive from our area, and we usally leave about 4:00 am. Consequently I usually become a little constipated on these trips, which usually involve lots of eating and drinking.It was the third day there and I still have not gone, but I could feel the pressure on the golf coarse that morning. When we returned to the hotel after lunch the other guys went to the poolside bar, but I went to the room to try to work out that dump. As I was walking to the room I noticed the maid was at the room next to mine and thought this could be a good oppertunity for her to catch me on the toilet. I waited to sit down until I could hear the door close nextstore. Then I quickly went into the bathroom and closed the door, so when she knocked I could not hear her. I pulled my black levi shorts to my ankles and my white underwear below my knees and started to take the dump. The maid knocked on the door but I pretended not to hear her. I started releasing this big dry turd and was actually straining quite hard(with some pain) it seemed like it was stuck halfway out. I could hear the maid cleaning up the room, when suddenly the bathroom door burst open and this heavy black maid in her middle thirties walked in. The bathrooms were actualy quite small and the toilet faced the door she must not have been paying attention because she took a full step in the bathroom before she noticed me, she was probably only 2 feet from falling on me. She stopped with a startled look then her eyes looked at me up and down when it sunk in at what I was doing. In the mean time I squeezed off the big turd and it hit the water with a big splash when she was staring at me. She then quickly apologized and closed the door and went in the next room. After I finished and cleaned up and was heading to the pool bar I stopped in the room she was cleaning and told her I was finished and had left the fan on to air it out, she laughed and said she was sorry again, but I told her you looked more startled than I was. True story, Kevin L

After weeks of lurking, reading everybody else's posts, I thought I'd make a post myself of quite a nasty episode I had during my stay in France on my Year Abroad. I had been part of a production at the Faculty where I was studying, and the proceeds from the retiring collection had been used to buy food for the cast party. It was very nice, with a delicious fish dish and a steak chasseur, delicious wine followed up by ice cream with brandy. I thoroughly enjoyed myself - until I arrived home. Not having taken a dump that day, I stripped off and slipped into my dressing gown (bath robe for all the US folks) before heading for the head. I sat down and strained and strained - nothing. Putting pressure on my belly and heaving again had no result. My colon felt almost full to bursting, and here I was getting nowhere. I went back into my bedroom, applied some vaseline to a candle (a process I've done before many times, but usually for a very different reason) and inserted it slowly into my anus. I felt as if I were being split apart, and when my fingers touched my ring, I discovered why: my pucker was horribly swollen and very sore to the touch. No wonder I couldn't shit: my ass couldn't open far enough to let my logs out. I returned to the john and began heaving again, and at the same time I started biting my fingernails, which were already quite short. Since nothing was happening still, I reached down and slowly, carefully, inserted a finger into my anus. It was AGONY! I inched it in, and felt inside a huge, hard turd waiting to be released. I tried to heave out past my finger, but to no avail. Taking a deep breath, I resorted to Plan B. I pressed another finger inside myself and began to hook out pieces of my shit and pull them out of my ass and into the water. Bit my bit I disposed of the monster log, since my gut propelled it forwards as I removed it. Oddly enough, it seemed to get easier the more I shat out. When I finally removed my hand and was about to wash it, I realised it was completely covered with blood. Turning around, I saw the whole pan was red: the water, the pan itself and my turds. If I hadn't just pulled the last piece out, I would have shit myself in terror: I have a fear of peritonitis, for one reason or another. Fortunately, I hadn't ruptured my bowel: in reaching inside to pull out the turd, I must have burst the swelling in my anus, causing the blood to gush out like that. I've never had such an experience before, although I had shit blood, particularly when I lost my virginity to my first lover. Ugh... what a night...

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