So I'm marking all uploads as mature which means they won't show up in timelines, just directly here. I'm not marking it as a sexual theme as that's a lazy, uni-dimensional way of looking at it and I'm trying to keep this small without thousands of people knowing about it again. Just for people that really understand how many psychological levels this operates upon. Whether it'll make any difference..
This was a large and urgent skirt flomp while shopping a few years back. I had to bail quickly due to the increased leg spill potential of low protection with only tights and underwear but it's generally so much easier than having to awkwardly pre-wash jeans. I'm leaning forwards, bum isn't this planetary. Apologies for the quality but HBC has always been awful in low light. Nothing to tie around this time so it certainly got my heart racing x
Still here, I'll get back on to posting some random walks this winter. Slight amount of naivety thinking the floppy trousers would hide things more. I've no idea how long this will last but I still maintain that this is about as soft as imagery gets. Why they had to delete literally a months worth of non stop writing hours I don't know. Whoever made the call must believe everyone needs bubble wrap.
This will be my last post on this blog. Thank you to everyone who has read my posts. I won’t close my account so people can still read old posts but I won’t be posting any more.
The reason why I won’t be posting any more is because, as some of you know, I moved to Scotland last year. Everything has been so busy since then, and due to many reasons, I have lost my interest in this subject, I’m sorry to say. I’ve had the feeling for a while but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. It was a phase of my life that I can look back on now. I don’t regret a thing though. I enjoyed it mostly and I wouldn’t change my experiences for the world. I have been looking after a friend’s baby a lot and this may have been part of the reason for my lack of interest in the fetish for a while, but I’m also now in a serious relationship with someone I really care about (male, in case anyone is wondering) and I kind of want to move on. Life is accelerating so quickly that it’s quite scary. I’m rapidly approaching 30 now.
Right now it feels like I’m done with panty messing, but who knows what the future will bring. That’s why I’m leaving my account open and I’ll still check every couple of months or so.
I love you all.
(Ps katannauk, I still absolutely adore you and love what you do. Keep on being amazing. For science! xxx)
Y'know what I need more of, lap poops. I need more people pooping on someone's lap, so desprate that your the only toilet they have to use. I never see content of this but i need it!
A fictional story of a messing accident in first person.
CW: desperation, loss of control, public embarrassment, messing, scat, bodily functions
I was standing there, leaning against Linnéa's car. It had broken down, and we were waiting for her cousin, a guy I had never met, to come pick us up.
The view of the farmlands around us would have been pretty great if I was able to pay attention. I really wasn't.
My gut was screaming at me. I needed to shit so damn badly. I was genuinely considering just stepping out to the side of the road, pulling down my pants and squatting there... But no. Cars were passing all the time, and I still hoped we could get home in time. It would be less than a 10-minute drive from where we were until I was home.
And I'd be lying if I said the idea wasn't turning me on, in some abstract way. Just as it was incredibly embarrassing and disturbing, I couldn't help but notice how my panties, at this point, were quite slick, and stuck to me in a way that was more than a little bit distracting.
As I said, I was leaning against her car, a black Audi of some kind from the early 00s. I don't know about cars, but it was a comfy one. The way I was leaning wasn't a cool, suave kind, looking like a cowboy—or more likely a prostitute. No, I had my face buried in my arms out of shame, as they were resting on the roof. My legs were pressed tight enough together that I thought I would grind up the cloth, or set it on fire or something.
Most of the time it was okay. I mean, I still needed to poop badly, but most of the time it was just a distraction. The cramps, however... They were a different matter. Every now and then, every minute maybe—or perhaps every ten seconds, I was too desperate to keep good time—a new cramp would twist my stomach, and the pressure against the inside of my asshole would magnify. All I could do during the cramps was to stand up straight, press my ass cheeks together and pray that I was strong enough. I had been so far.
Linnéa could tell how desperate I was, and I think it made her uncomfortable. She said her cousin would be here any moment. I wasn't listening. A new cramp had struck, and to my horror, I felt my sphincter begin to give way. I felt the shit force its way out.
I squeezed for all I was worth with my butt cheeks and through that heroic effort, I managed to force the turtle head back in, and I held on for the rest of the cramp. I stood there, panting, as the realization hit that my sphincter was exhausted. I didn't think I would be able to handle the—
Oh god, the next cramp was coming already. I felt the pressure build against my asshole again, and just like a few moments ago, I felt the hole begin to dilate. I whimpered—whined really—as I felt the log force its way past my pressed butt cheeks. Hot, sticky, and inevitable.
I can't believe that even at that point, I was deluding myself that I wasn't shitting my pants, but when I felt the strange sensations of my panties tugging at me, as they were being stretched out from within, then I knew, then I had to admit to myself; I was pooping my pants in front of my best friend.
Just as I had thought that, the log cut off, and placed itself snugly in my panties, just between my butt cheeks, but my body wasn't done. A second log followed immediately on the first, going smoother now that the first one had cleared the way.
I gave up at that point and just let it happen. And god damn it, the relief was nice. The shit filled the seat of my pants like some kind of mudslide, but I was beyond caring; all I could think about now was how I no longer needed to hold it.
Eventually, probably less than a minute later, it stopped, not because I was done pooping, but because my trousers were so full that there was no more space for waste in them. That's when I gave out the first sob, because I just heard Linnéa cheerfully say, "Oh, there's his car!"
Y'know what I need more of, lap poops. I need more people pooping on someone's lap, so desprate that your the only toilet they have to use. I never see content of this but i need it!
jacobvanloon
jbbartram-illu
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
dailybridgerton
gummygunk
